The 'Item Box' That Only I Can Use Is Bugged (Patreon)

Chapter 8: I Practice Old Martial Art

They ran until they reached a nearby park in the residential area. 

Okinaga led the girl to a bench and they sat down.

"Here, have this if you'd like," Okinaga said, handing her a bottle of sports drink from his Item Box.

"Huh? Oh, thanks... but, where did you get this from?"

"From my pocket. See, I have big pockets in my hoodie," he said, showing the large pocket on the front of his hoodie. 

It was indeed large enough to hold a bottle, so she seemed satisfied with his explanation.

Okinaga took out another small bottle of tea and began to drink it.

(Yep, it looks like she can't see the screen.)

He remembered a time when Aoi had walked into his room while he was looking at his list. 

He had quickly closed it, but the timing suggested she might have seen it. 

However, she hadn't acted surprised or questioned it, leading him to wonder if the list was only visible to him.

Deciding to test his theory, he kept the list open while talking to the girl. 

If she didn't react to it, it would confirm his suspicion that only he could see it.

Sure enough, the girl showed no interest in the screen, focusing instead on her drink. 

Okinaga was relieved. 

He did have to be careful, though, as manipulating the list in public could make him look like he was touching invisible objects.

The girl sipped her drink, occasionally glancing at Okinaga with a shy curiosity. 

It seemed she was a bit reserved, so Okinaga decided to initiate the conversation.

"Do you know those two boys?"

"N-no, I don't."

"But they were calling you Nakuru... is that your name?"

"Yes, it is... but I have no idea how they knew my name... Have we met somewhere before?" she wondered, furrowing her brows as she tried to recall any past encounters.

It was clear she had no idea who they were. 

Okinaga considered the possibility that the two boys were indeed stalkers. 

The thought made him feel sorry for her—she was too young to be dealing with such a disturbing situation.

(Two stalkers at her age... that's rough.)

No matter how popular she was, dealing with those two was more trouble than it was worth.

"Um, excuse me!" she suddenly said.

"Hm?"

"Um... I wanted to say... thank you for saving me back there," she said, her voice trailing off towards the end.

"Don't worry about it. I was just in the right place at the right time. I'm glad you're safe."

"R-really? Hehe," she replied, finally smiling. It was a charming and innocent smile, one that made Okinaga understand why she might attract attention, even unwanted.

"But that red-haired boy... he suddenly disappeared. What happened to him?"

"Oh, him? He fell into a pitfall."

"A pitfall? Really?"

"Yeah. He's probably lying at the bottom of it right now."

What Okinaga had done was to "retrieve" the ground beneath the red-haired boy's feet, creating a deep hole that he fell into. 

It wasn’t too deep, so the boy could probably climb out on his own.

(That redhead was surprisingly arrogant.)

Okinaga thought about how to proceed. 

Given the strange circumstances, it seemed he should stay with the girl a bit longer to ensure she was safe.

It takes a lot of confidence to call oneself the chosen protagonist. 

I imagine he must be quite wealthy, surrounded by fawning servants and pampered by doting parents. 

Otherwise, I doubt he would have turned out that way.

(Though, maybe anime had some influence on him... but even so, it's hard to believe someone would hit others so casually.)

This is what Okinaga thought, likely leaning towards the former assumption.

"By the way, that outfit... is it some kind of judo uniform?"

"Huh...? Oh, this is... our dojo uniform."

"Our dojo uniform? ... Does that mean your family practices martial arts? What kind?"

Feeling a bit curious, I asked, and she, though breaking her smile, showed that lonely expression again. 

Regretting that I might have hit a sore spot, I considered apologizing, but she continued.

"Our family... practices old martial arts."

"O-old martial arts? That's quite rare."

In all my experience, I had never met someone involved in such. The term "old martial arts" itself is enough to thrill any guy's heart. 

I couldn't help but wonder if there were any secret techniques involved.

However, the girl's face, having mentioned old martial arts, didn't look well.

"Are you troubled by something?"

"Huh? Well... that is..."

She hesitated, finding it difficult to speak. 

Admittedly, it might be tough to confide in a boy she just met.

"I don't mean to pry, but sometimes talking about things can lighten the load a bit."

I decided to give her a little nudge. She seemed on the verge of imploding from the weight of her troubles.

After a period of silence, the girl finally mustered the courage to speak.