It's hot.
It's unbearably hot.
Even for summer, when the sun's rays turn from nature's blessing into a weapon, isn't it too much to feel this hot first thing in the morning? Has global warming gotten this bad?
If it's this hot before sunrise, humans will be extinct in a few years without even fighting ghouls.
"Mmmnya mmmnya…."
"Hmm…?"
I opened my eyes at the strange noise coming from my chest and realized the cause of my heat.
Eto, who turns five this year, was there, nuzzling against me in her sleep like a cat that's found a kiwi fruit. Of course—you were the culprit. Don't you have any sense of heat at all?
I gently slid her off me so as not to wake her and stretched as I got up.
Once I wriggled free of the burning, almost suffocating look of affection from Eto, a cool morning breeze wrapped around my sweat-drenched body. Seems humanity still has some time before extinction.
Lost in that idle thought and trying to clear my foggy brain, I glanced around.
Things have changed in a lot of ways since I was raising baby Eto.
I put away the bottles and diapers once Eto could eat and go to the bathroom by herself.
The rattles, teddy bears, and other baby toys—too precious to throw away and filled with memories—ended up shoved in a corner of the closet used as both a cupboard and storage.
That was about what was gone. What's new is the replacement computer I bought after Eto wrecked the old laptop, a bunch of anime CDs that kids are into lately, a huge guitar case, and so on….
I softened the corner of my mouth and spoke.
"…Good morning, Father."
The home altar occupied one side of the room.
On it was a memorial tablet bearing my father's name and a photo of him smiling brightly.
I opened the fridge.
I'd finished the curry a few days ago, and my paycheck still had a few days before depositing.
I was thinking of settling for simple toast for breakfast when something stopped my gaze.
In the fridge's deepest corner, not easy to spot behind the other leftovers, was the bagged 'meat.'
Seeing there wasn't much left, my eyes narrowed before I even realized it.
"…I'll have to go 'resupply' soon."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nothing, just saying I'll go grocery shopping."
"Really? I want to go too!"
Eto popped her head up under my chin while I had my face buried in the fridge, applying for membership to the grocery-shopping party.
I hastily changed the subject—but those words strained my wallet's air supply.
Guilting myself for my complacency, I started planning the unplanned grocery trip.
As I walked around the house checking the supplies—soap, toilet paper, and other dwindling essentials—and making a list, Eto read a book while waiting for me to finish. My gaze accidentally fell on the cover, and I was struck enough to ask.
"Hey, Eto. Have you already read this far?"
"Yes! This book is fun!"
I can admit it's fun, but isn't she reading too fast? If she finishes this series of novels, Eto will have gone through every book in the house.
For some reason, Eto has shown interest in learning letters and reading since way back.
When reading books she'd come across difficult Chinese characters or idioms, and if I handed her a dictionary, she'd look up the meanings herself, studying with determination.
In the end, despite her young age, she could handle pretty difficult books without much trouble.
That was both admirable and worrisome.
Reading books repeatedly is important, but if she gets stuck on such a limited selection, a 'box' will form in her thinking.
The danger of fixed thinking becomes clear when you look at the various conflicts happening in the world.
Buying more books at the bookstore also had its problems: where to put them in our house and money, for starters.
After a moment's thought, I looked up at the clock. It was 7:48. I had roughly three hours before I had to head to my part-time job.
"Eto, how about we go to the library together today?"
"Library? Let's go!"
Eto jumped like a small animal discovering food.
Holding Eto's hand, we headed to the nearest municipal library to our home.
It's not huge, but its collection ranges widely from old books to the latest novels that teenagers would like.
As we passed the entrance, the counter had a sleepy-looking elderly man nodding off, who I took to be a librarian.
I've used this library several times since high school, and back then he was dozing off in the same spot. Seeing him in the same place for years, I half-suspected he was a doll made to look like a napping old man.
Anyway, passing the counter into the interior, the smell of paper enveloped me, and books—so many that comparing them to our home shelves felt insulting—welcomed us.
Eto's eyes sparkled as if she'd discovered a treasure trove.
"Pick any book you want to read."
"Yahoo~!"
"Quiet in the library."
"Ya, Yahoo…!"
At my light reprimand, Eto lowered her voice, but I guess she couldn't calm her excited heart.
I sat down on a suitable chair and smirked as I watched Eto bounce around silently, looking like she was at an amusement park.
On the surface, she's just a kid who loves books and is bright and cheerful—but there's one thing that sets her apart from everyone else, making it impossible for her to approach others recklessly.
This child is a ghoul.
A creature that can't live without eating humans.
Social experience for Eto carries risks that ordinary people don't face.
Failures in youth are natural, but for Eto, failure means ostracism or death.
If she makes one misstep, only tragedy waits. Eto has no choice but to live such a life from here on out.
"Books will surely become her weapon…"
One must not underestimate the power of books. They're not just records.
In any novel or book, the author's values and experiences are mixed in.
Lives of people who came before Eto, who experienced the world, failure, and success, hide behind the letters.
Though Eto can only read text and information so far, if she grows a little more, she'll be able to read the author's values and opinions, and then accept or refute them.
Grow with the characters in the book, fail with them, and grow with them.
So that when you become an adult, you can use that as a weapon to stand firm in this cruel world…
"Heave-ho!"
Eto stacked books so high that almost none of her upper body was visible and placed them on my desk.
Then she picked the book she liked most and sat opposite me.
Eto's expression was as serious as can be, like she'd found something surprising.
I got curious and peeked at the title.
"…"
I froze, face propped on my hand, unable to say a word.
My head throbbed with pain as I forced open my mouth.
"…Eto, what are you doing right now?"
Eto looked up from the book, smiled brightly, and answered.
"I'm inheriting the knowledge of adults, Father."
The title of the book Eto was currently reading was this:
『How to Be a Mature Woman and Topple Men』
…What on earth does this library stock? Topple men? Topple how? I don't think it's by tripping them at the ankles or anything…?
I put the book back and left the library with Eto tucked under my arm.
On our way out, I had my hands full calming Eto, who struggled and whined, "Noooo! I'm going to read that book! I'm going to become a mature woman!"
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