That Half-Finished Drink Was Lethal— What Happened When I Left My Bottle Behind in a 1:4 Male-to-Female World - 7

Chapter 7: That Man, Because He’s Earnest — A Coin and a Life-Risking Confession

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I had once thought that this world was just a little bit colder than the one I previously inhabited.

《A male-to-female ratio of one to four. An extreme scarcity of men and an abundance of women. This distorted population balance granted men a privileged status, while simultaneously driving women into a frenzy known as the “struggle for existence.”》

Whenever I walked through the city, the arrogance of men steeped in a sense of elitism and the murderous glares of women who had to fight over them were hard to miss… or so it felt.

(Then again, there might be something wrong with me for seeing the world that way.)

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Today, I decided to splurge a bit and have lunch out, so I went to a nearby restaurant. Inside, I spotted a customer acting timid and fidgety because the staff hadn’t noticed them. For some reason, it made even me feel restless. Even though it wasn’t my order, I felt the urge to butt in and say, “Excuse me, that person over there is calling for you.”

Well, I actually did butt in, though. On my way home after eating, there was a young man littering.

(That’s the kind of thing you end up regretting once you’re a proper adult.)

Besides, seeing a volunteer cleaning right in front of him made me feel inexplicably anxious on their behalf. Eventually, I decided to wander around a bit more and headed to the station front. There, a street musician was performing a solo live show. Passersby were lobbing cold sneers at the singing voice, which was slightly off-key. Watching that made me feel sad. People were free to laugh if they wanted to, but I wanted to ask them if they were really such perfect human beings themselves that they felt entitled to mock others.

(Well, I don’t have the courage to say that to their faces, though.)

Even the people sneering must have realized somewhere in their hearts that by laughing at someone who was trying their best, in other words, by looking down on them, they were merely trying to reassure themselves.

(Well, everyone has their own life, so I’ll just leave them be.)

I stopped for a moment to listen to the song of the young man performing.

(The notes are a bit off, but it’s a good song with a lot of passion behind it.)

I parted the crowd of people passing by with ridiculing smiles and walked up to the empty guitar case. I took out a coin engraved with a paulownia from my pocket and flicked it with my finger.

The coin gave a sharp clink as it bounced inside.

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Lately, strange things had been happening one after another. For some reason, empty cans would frequently be lying right in my path. And when I looked up at the sky, a single drone would occasionally be circling above as if watching over me. The drone’s movements were somewhat hesitant. It was as if I could see right through to the “clumsy earnestness” of the person operating it.

“Oh, you’ve been flying around here lately, haven’t you? You’re always so skillful with that. Bye-bye!”

I didn’t know if the person on the other end could hear me, but I tried saying something like that anyway. Immediately, the drone shook violently up and down and flew away, just like a young girl whose face had turned bright red.

(That was kind of interesting. …Wait, was that an expression of ‘shyness’ just now?)

I had always been quite fond of this kind of “interaction through a window.” Like waving at a total stranger on the deck when a passenger ship sets sail, or giving a big wave to a helicopter flying overhead. It made me feel somewhat happy when I got a reaction from the other side.

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A few days later. While I was reading a book in the plaza, a girl appeared before me. A deep hood and massive headphones. An inorganic log scrolling across her smart glasses. Her slender frame was buried in an oversized hoodie, and her skin was pale, as if it still held the glow of blue light. Her eyes, scanning the surroundings timidly, were like those of a small animal; in stark contrast to the coldness of her devices, they were strikingly clear.

(Oh, she’s the girl I picked up something for a few days ago.)

At that time, she had only managed to squeak out an “Ah, ugh…” before running away from me. This time, she stared at me with eyes filled with a tragic resolve, as if to say, “I am about to engage in a duel.” Slowly, as if removing her armor, she took off her headphones. Her hair, which flickered softly like feathers, accentuated her small features. Frowning at the ambient noise and trembling as if fighting something, she opened her mouth.

“I… I… l-love you! P-Please… go out with me!”

It was an all-out confession, one that felt like she was carving out her own heart.

The moment I heard those words, I was lost for speech. It was because I had never been told “I love you” with such earnestness before. Her entire body was shivering. Her clenched fists had turned white, and tears were welling in her eyes. Honestly, I was happy. Anyone would be happy to be confessed to by an attractive girl… but.

(Since she’s hitting me with such powerful feelings, it’s only right that I give her an answer after getting to know her properly. We’ve never even had a proper conversation, and I don’t even know her name.)

After thinking it through, I looked into her eyes and spoke my conclusion.

“…I’m sorry.”

In that instant, the light vanished from her eyes, and they were dyed in a hue of deep despair.

“Ah, ah, aaaaaah…!”

Letting out a scream, she took off running.

“Wait! At least let’s get to know each other first…!”

My voice no longer reached her, as she had already pressed her headphones back over her ears. 

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I sank onto a bench and couldn’t stand up for a while. I wanted to chase after her, but my feet wouldn’t move forward.

(…I messed up. But it would have been ruder to just nod along half-heartedly, wouldn’t it…?)

A friend who happened to run over was looking at me in exasperation, saying, “Why did you reject her?!”

“You should get to know someone before you start dating them, right?”

“You’re as stupidly earnest as ever in the weirdest ways.”

My friend patted my shoulder, half-amazed. Unable to even chase after her, I looked up at the sky for no particular reason. The setting sun was pouring in, staining the plaza in a vivid shade of orange.

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