Bristol Temple Meads Station, located to the south of the city center, was regarded as Bristol’s biggest railway station. All the way from London to the west here in Bristol, you can take the Great Western Railway. And the me of the present knows that the one who instructed this railway was also the same person who constructed the Clifton Suspension Bridge—Isambard Kingdom Brunnel.

As Bristol flourished with its trade, they intended to make it grow even further and built the railway plus station. Additionally, Brunel was one of the most influential Engineers of the industrial revolution, so when he constructed this train station, he must have envisioned a dazzling future for Bristol. However, he surely would have never dreamed of the fact that after roughly 200 years, his beloved Bristol would be famous and holy ground for the odd and mysterious art known as graffiti. I also heard that more and more parts of the train station had fallen victim to the passage of time, which is why a lot of the areas he had built were now not in use anymore. In a way, this train station is being continuously overwritten, adjusting to Bristol’s development.

I got off the bus I had been on since my university’s dorm and looked up at the large clock tower. I still remember vividly when I first stepped outside this train station. The train that had GWR written on it was colored in typically UK-based colors like green and yellow. When I saw it come in at London’s Paddington Station, shaped beautifully with comforting colors like Japan’s bullet train, I knew that this baby was the real deal. But when I actually sat on it, it was astoundingly relaxing, and the further west I went, the more the surroundings outside the window changed into the countryside.

It takes about an hour and 45 minutes from London here. Arriving at this train station and its age yet odd polishment, I knew that something was different here. I was used to seeing more green from the UK landscape here, but the refined culture and its scent really became apparent when I got off here. And, my premonition was on-point. It’s been two months since I first arrived here. In the long history of this train station, it would be like blinking once. And even so, two things definitely changed.

First, there were decorations of red, green, and yellow. In the UK, the month of November also marked the beginning of the Christmas season. Even the people walking down the streets seemed a lot more gleeful than usual. As I figured, this holiday held a special meaning. And second, I actually came here to pick someone up for once. Up until not too long ago, I was a complete stranger to this land—a visitor. And yet, now, I’m a citizen of Bristol, making my way to the train station to pick up someone else. Normally, that would fill me with pride…that I had become a part of this land, but all of that vanished when I remembered the face of the person I was here to greet.

When I stepped inside the building, I heard a singing voice. And even though I knew this tone, my ears welcoming a familiar melody, I tried my hardest to pretend like I didn’t. However, it was futile resistance. A crowd of people had gathered toward the voice. And I confirmed my suspicions to make my way there. Standing in the center of the mass of people was a street piano. Regarding its shape, it was like an upright piano, with colorful and adorable drawings filling its surface, which contradicted the stoic black ones I was used to. Here in the UK, you’d sometimes have street pianos set up, as people would play music. And watching this happen live in front of you created a feeling like you could even pull it off with a bit of trying, even open to the general public. That being said, that wouldn’t work in this crowd…and I knew exactly why that was.

While playing the piano, she sang a song—Santa Claus is coming to town. Granted, her skill with the piano wasn’t anything outstanding and kept fairly simple. But then why did she gather so many people? Simply because her singing voice was so alluring. The sound of it could very well be described as clear and transparent. There was no murkiness to be found, but it equally didn’t break, either. It wasn’t as fragile as a crystal ball, and rather sturdy like the large acrylic water tanks in an aquarium. It could handle any kind of pressure, not suffering any fissures or breaks. It didn’t matter if you were British or Japanese, one thing was clear to anybody.

That the girl’s voice was truly a special gift. And there was only one person I knew who could create such a voice. While she continued her performance, I glanced at her profile. With each note, her expression changed, as her almond eyes stood out, especially because of the red makeup beneath, and her long eyelashes seemed so pompous they felt as if they had been artificially created. Despite her youthful singing voice, the chest that continued further down her neck was packed to the brim with mature charm. Each time her lips opened and moved, you’d think you were looking at a ferocious hunter about to leap at its prey. And as you keep staring at her sweet yet spicy appearance, dignified and frank atmosphere, pureness, and yet seductive nature, all of that combined into her charm that would make you feel dizzy.



Her singing voice and appearance were utterly breathtaking. And yet, each second I looked at her, I was simply shivering in terror. She continued to sing for a while when her eyes happened to catch me. Immediately after, she stopped her performance and dashed through the crowd of people, aiming directly for me.

“Yoshiii!”

That living being called out my name and jumped into my arms like a bullet. The impact almost had me stagger backward, but I somehow managed to keep myself standing.

“Santa-san is finally here! The wait was so long!”

She was speaking fluent Japanese. The fluent type I hadn’t heard in a while.

“Actually the lyrics would mean that Nerlina is Santa…Oh well! Bristol, Nelina’s here!”

Normally, that gaze of hers looking up at you could easily make your heart flutter, forcing you to fall apart at a single touch of hers. That’s how charming she was. However, I’m different. I’ve been played and fooled by this lovable appearance so many times, my body remembers.

“I didn’t expect you’d actually come, Nelina-san…”

I couldn’t hide the exasperation in my voice. The reality that she was standing in front of me…was something I didn’t want to accept.

“But Nelina said she’s not gonna wait, right?”

I held my head. A while after she texted me ‘Not gonna wait’, the very next message was ‘At the station.’ I don’t know where she gets off thinking that this was perfectly normal behavior. She took this as lightly as heading to a friend’s house a few train stops over. Even the flight alone takes 12 hours straight, being around 12,000 kilometers, so this isn’t anything to do on a whim. In fact, I’d like to be praised for putting the facts together with just this much to work with…or rather, I deserved to be praised for that, but she wasn’t the type of person for minute thoughts like that. I knew that better than anybody else.

Because this is Nelina we’re talking about. Even if we played in a band together in Japan, her attitude didn’t change one bit after coming to Bristol. Her voice was alluring as always, her figure enticing, and a moment’s relaxation will lead to a lifetime of service. It’s like being deceived by a fox.

“And what would you have done if I hadn’t come here to pick you up?”

“Nelina just knew. Just as you knew that Nelina would come here. Right? Perfect.”

“Nothing is perfect here,” I sighed. “Why have you come here…”

“Enough about that! Nelina’s hungry, and Bristol has some delicious food, right? Show Nelina around!” She took my hand, waving it up and down like a child.

Looking around, the crowd had already dispersed. Nobody had expected the performance to end this way, I bet. If possible, I’d love to join them and just pretend as if none of this happened.

“Right now, I truly wish I hadn’t come here. Maybe I should just leave you here.”

“Then do that?”

Hearing her blunt response, I subconsciously turned my gaze toward her. However, that was her usual act. Her eyes pierced through me like they could see what I felt deep inside, as her lips formed a cunning smile.

“Yeah, there’s no way you’d leave Nelina behind, right?”

I struggled to respond. She knew too well. That if she were to come to Bristol, I’d have to pick her up. And also, that I couldn’t leave her alone here in this town where she didn’t know left from right. This is how things always end up with Nelina in front of me. I try to fight against it, only to play along to her tune.

“Which bus should we take? C’mon, hurry up!”

I looked up at the sky, indulging in its clear blue color as a cold gust of wind hit me. This world is connected. The same sky that towers over Bristol can be seen in Japan. And for the first time ever, I cursed that.

*

“Oh, wow. The buses here aren’t too different from the ones in Japan, huh?”

We hopped on the bus, to which Nelina looked around like an excited child. The famous two-floor red London buses that were like a cultural sight for the UK only drove around in London, so if you came all the way out here to Bristol, you’d see the regular ones. And just as Nelina stated, they didn’t differ much from the ones you’d see in Japan. The only difference is that there was a larger space for passengers to place their luggage and such. And as you’d expect, I was responsible for pushing around her large suitcase. I had her sit down before me, paid for two tickets with my card, stuffed her suitcase in the back, and then sat down next to her.

“You can pay me back the money for the ticket later.”

“It’s not euros here, right? Pound, was it?”

“I’m shocked you managed to make it here while being this clueless…”

“One way or another, Nelina made it here!”

Really, how did she manage that? Going from the airport to London, and then taking the train from Paddington station should involve several payments at least. Granted, a credit card could handle most of that, but if she’s this oblivious, then it’s nothing short of a miracle that she got here in one piece. It just works out with her…which, in a way, is what makes her, her.

“And what were you up to in Bristol, Yoshi?”

“Well…”

I explained most of the details to Nelina during my message, but I still repeated it now in person. What led me to come to Bristol, how I encountered graffiti and its culture, the purge of the Bearpit, the actions of the writers, and the fact that graffiti made a glorious return by the end.

“Mhm, Nelina doesn’t really get it, but those drawings were turned into something beautiful, right? Good enough.” Nelina pouted as she leaned against the back of her seat.

She was the one who asked, and yet had the gall to ask. Then again, that was nothing new, and complaining about it won’t change a thing.

“Were you listening to me? Those aren’t drawings, it’s graffiti, and…”

“Why are you getting so passionate about this graffiti stuff, Yoshi?”

Met with this sharp question, I was unable to respond. I haven’t told Nelina about Boudicia yet. I said I met the writer they call the Ghost of Bristol, but I didn’t touch upon the fact that we are colleagues at work, or that we were greatly involved with the incident at the Bearpit. It’s not something that needs hiding or anything. But, I just hadn’t fully clarified with myself how I should tell her.

“Listen, none of that matters right now. What Nelina wants to ask is…” Nelina stabbed me where it hurt as I couldn’t even finish my words.

However, before she could continue, the bus stopped and we were rocked left and right. As she got off the bus, her step was light like a dancer’s, as I struggled to pull her suitcase after me. I pretended to not hear the scream of terror as the suitcase slammed against the stone pavement.

“I’ve gotta head to my job after this. Where are you staying, Nelina-san?”

“Where…At your place, of course.”

What is she talking about?

“That won’t do. I’m staying at a student dorm, and I also only have one bed…”

“But that’s more than enough, right?”

“…Huh?”

“A bed’s better than anything we have at the studio. You’re gonna play the guitar until Nelina’s fallen asleep, yes?”

At first, I sighed in relief because that’s what she meant, but felt anger boiling inside of me at the fact that this treatment wasn’t any different than in Japan.

“You just slept while I was busy recording, don’t you remember?”

“But a lack of sleep is the mortal enemy of beauty.”

“At least make it the enemy of music, okay?”

“Beauty is just as important. Aren’t you happy when Nelina looks all glossy, Yoshi?”

“Not at all. Though I bet your fans would agree.”

Nelina wasn’t selling herself as an idol or anything. The reason she was popular with both men and women is that she swiftly adjusted her attitude depending on who she was dealing with. Being able to act this way in such a perfect display was also one of her abilities, and what allowed her to play with the hearts of others.

“You say that, but you’re Nelina’s number one fan, right?”

There’s no end to this. I tried to pull the suitcase after me, but it got stuck on the stone pavement. Raising it up was a pain, but the only way.

“Anyway! Find yourself a place to stay right now. There are hotels, and you can even book them online, so you should find one even today…”

“Not happening.”

“Why?”

“Nelina doesn’t understand English.”

For a second, I was absolutely bewildered.

“Huh? But you were just singing, right? Santa Claus is coming to town…and in English, no less.”

“Singing is one thing, but Nelina doesn’t understand the meaning one bit.”

She’s able to sing it just fine without understanding what any of it means…In a way, this is just another side of her talent, and I had to accept that.

“…Fine. I’ll reserve something for you, so maybe look around town until my shift at work is done…”

“Waaaah, no way! So scary! What if something happens?! Nelina’s coming with you!”

Her voice may sound as sweet as honey, but also adhesive like glue, always making the people in her close vicinity act for her own sake. Thanks to that, I went through hell and back more times than I can count. And yet, I couldn’t cover my ears and distance myself because her voice was, as much as it annoyed me, utterly beautiful.

*

In the end, we came to the 8-Bit World while I dragged the suitcase after me. As you’d expect, the UK stone pavement wasn’t made for large suitcases like these. But I can imagine how they handle it—they probably had slaves just like me who suffered through it. Or maybe I’m the only one who’s resenting this, and everybody else happily accepted. Either way, my head was full of this heavy luggage…That’s why I just opened the familiar door of the shop without even considering what could happen from now on.

“Oh, you’re here!”

As soon as I opened the door, Boudicia came jumping at me like those jack-in-the-box jumpscare toys. In her hand, she had a sketchbook.

“Hey, Yoshi. I was coming up with some new stuff I could write and…”

She stopped herself mid-sentence, as her gaze wandered from my face to the suitcase I had behind me, then moved toward Nelina, who stood next to me. And it didn’t take too long for her expression to change into something akin to fury.

“Yoshi, who’s that woman?”

By spending time with her, there is one thing I learned. If you wanted to spend time in the same cage as this lion, you had to become extremely proficient at reading her emotions. And this…was the worst possible tone imaginable.

“No, well, um, there’s a good reason for this…”

I didn’t know how to properly explain myself, fumbling over my own words. I mean, this good reason isn’t something I fully understand myself, but…Nelina must have felt the animosity coming from Boudicia, as she looked at me in disbelief, and then quickly hid behind me.

“Nooo, this person is scary! Save me, Yoshi!”

Why does she need to say everything in such a sweet voice? It’ll only make things worse—

“Huh? What? The hell is this fox? Yoshi, you don’t know that wench, right? Right? Because if you do, I’ll make sure to slam you down Clifton Suspension Bridge.”

Meanwhile, Boudicia was burning up to the point I could feel my skin turning black.

“Honestly, I regret having her as an acquaintance…”

“Whaaat? It sure feels like she’s bad-mouthing Nelina! Go tell her, Yoshi!”

“What was that? Japanese? We’re in the UK, you dimwit. You Japanese people should…Wait, Japanese? Are you that vocalist?”

“Ah, she just said vocalist, right? Yes, of course. Can’t you tell with my absolutely charming voice?”

“I see, I see. So it’s you. I’ll skin you alive and hang you up as a trophy, then.”

Boudicia knows. She knows that because of my band’s vocalist and her words, I ended up with severe trauma that left me unable to play the guitar. And at the same time, it’s thanks to Boudicia that I became able to play again. Seeing her this angry did make me feel happy to some degree, but when I realized that I should be the one who should be most furious, I started to feel pathetic. And as sparks flew between the two, Nelina’s gaze wandered toward the sketchbook in Boudicia’s hands.

“Ah, right, right. That makes sense. You’re that person drawing the art or whatever, right? What a shame, but Yoshi prefers Nelina’s singing much more than your weird doodles!”

“…She just laughed, didn’t she. She laughed at my graffiti, right?”

“Huuuh? If you’ve got something to say, then say it in Japanese. Why would Yoshi have to match your preference and speak in English? Makes no sense.”

“I haven’t got a single clue what she’s even saying. But I fully understand that I should kick you out of here right now!”

I held my head once again. One is speaking English, the other is speaking Japanese. Despite their words not being conveyed at all, only their hostility towards each other is clear as day. Some things in this world are meant to never get in contact. Water and oil. A dog and an ape. Chlorine-based soap and acidic liquid—A lion and a fox. And yet, I was caught right in the middle between them. What bad fortune this was.

If only I had anticipated that this would happen if I put them into the same space, things wouldn’t have escalated this much. I think Nelina’s sudden arrival just threw me off course that much. Honestly, I kinda wished this was some hallucination or even a nightmare.

“What is going on out here, Boo-chan, Yoshi-kun?”

With all this ruckus, Manager Radesh showed up from the back of the store. Hearing his gentle and peaceful tone only fueled my guilt even further. That’s right, we were still inside his store right now.

“Radesh, ain’t that obvious? I’m on a fox hunt.”

“But that’s not something you should be doing inside my store. Aren’t you a naughty one, Boo-chan.”

“Oh, zip it!”

“Scary, scary. So, Yoshi-kun, who’s this girl?”

“Ah, well…”

I couldn’t help but admire Radesh’s ability to silence Boudicia with a single word, as I explained the circumstances.

“Hmm, I see.”

After listening to my brief explanation, he came up with an unexpected idea.

“Why not entrust her to Aeon-kun, then? He should be able to understand a bit of Japanese, no?”

“But didn’t he go on a trip to Japan just the other day?”

“He’ll depart in three days, so this should be perfect. She could teach him some of Japan’s popular spots, too.”

Aeon deeply fell in love with the idea of Zen, so he regularly visits Japan. However, I wasn’t too sure if Aeon and Nelina were that good of a mix.

“Sorry about all this trouble…”

“Now, now. Your good friend has come to Bristol, so we have to welcome her. And she must be feeling worried because she’s only got you to talk to.”

“Hey, Yoshi. This person is pretty nice, right? Nelina can tell!”

“You should probably just be quiet for a while…”

I explained where Aeon’s store was, as Radesh showed her his phone. I considered sending her off, but since my shift was coming up…and even more so because I needed a break from her, I decided to have her go there alone. I needed some time to get my thoughts in order. Nelina seemed a bit confused at Radesh’s explanation, but she should be able to read a map, at the very least. Or so I hoped.

“See you later, Yoshi! Surely, you’ll be lonely without Nelina around, but do your best!”

The fact that her blowing a kiss at me didn’t physically hurt was probably due to her talent, as well. And as she stepped out of the store, her hair glittering from the sunlight, Boudicia gave her one last comment.

“Stop by again! I’ll have my shotgun ready for you, then!”

In any other country, you’d be letting this one slip, but Boudicia’s sarcasm was very much UK-style. And when I saw Nelina turn around to stick out her tongue, I realized that they were both just the same as always. At the same time, Radesh didn’t seem bothered at all and just returned to the back of the store. Meanwhile, Boudicia let out a snort and sat down on the plastic chair, who screamed in pain and terror at the force she used.

I looked at her face, which didn’t make any attempt at hiding how displeased she was. When I first met her, I was utterly baffled at the beauty she possessed. And even her ferocious attitude didn’t lay waste to her looks, but the impression she gave me did change greatly. All the expressions I had seen from her up to this point overlapped, making her feel much more three-dimensional. This must mean that, to me, Boudicia has become an existence I had slowly grown accustomed to. But that’s also why…I wanted to discuss this with her.

“Um, Boo-san.”

“Listen, Yoshi.”

But right as I made up my mind and called out to her, she did the exact same.

“Ah, um, go ahead.”

“…Nah, forget it.”

I apologized in the heat of the moment, but it appeared as if it was already too late. While sitting at the cash register, Boudicia rested her head on one hand and looked away. Was there something she wanted to tell me? Even if that was the case, I couldn’t immediately think of anything. After all, she’s the type to immediately say if anything’s on her mind. Like, “Let’s go eat lunch” or “Tell me what you think about my new graffiti” and so on…Is it just me or is she pushing me around like a lackey? Whatever the reason, it’s rare for her to be this tongue-tied.

“Oh dear.”

As I was lost in thought, I heard a high voice fill the store. Two tails of hair shook as the light entering through the window illuminated their bluish-green color.

“Welcome, Lara-san.”

She seemed to have caught on to the stiff atmosphere, as she looked around with a dubious gaze.

“What’s going on here? I just happened to run into a Japanese person right outside. Is this related or something?”

“Good guess. Fox fur, made in Japan.”

“Hm, I get what’s going on. Yoshi, I am sorry.”

“I humbly thank you for your kind words…”

Our exchange felt the same as usual, but it almost looked like a shadow lived on her face.

“Well, none of that matters right now. Boo, have you seen this?”

“What’s it now?”

Lara made her way over to the cash register, showing Boudicia something on her phone. I also glanced at it over Boudicia’s shoulder. On the screen, I could see something that looked like a picture uploaded to social media. Someone had written graffiti on the shutter of a store.

“The bookstore at St George’s Road, right? That’s some lame graffiti, though. Some lazy ass tag like that isn’t worth a damn thing nowadays.”

I could tell that the graffiti wasn’t too complicated or well executed. It even looked closer to being some sort of prank graffiti. However, what really attracted my attention was something else. There was a middle-aged man looking at the shutter. His expression contained a wide arrangement of expression. Sadness, anger, but also…exasperation—all of them blending together. I couldn’t tell what exactly he felt, but with the graffiti in front of him, he must be shocked at least.

“Look at this.” Lara pointed at the comment added to the picture.

Written there, it said—Harm saves no one. And if I had to guess, harm must be referring to the graffiti.

“It was uploaded this morning, and it’s gotten a lot of comments, too. And all of them show disdain toward the graffiti.

Honestly, I thought it was a great picture. It told more than reality itself. Everybody would sympathize with the man, as he looked at the graffiti in shock. I personally have become very attached to the idea of graffiti, but some people still cause pain and trouble like this nonetheless. I understood what some of the comments had to say, too.

“Who uploaded this?” Boudicia asked, leaning against the chair, not showing much interest at all.

“Gabriel. The Musician of Bristol.”

“Huh?” Lara’s words had me audibly gasping.

“Yoshi, you know him?”

“Well, yes.”

“He’s quite famous in the world of music, after all. But, he absolutely despises graffiti. And lately, he’d upload pictures like these.”

He…hates graffiti. When I heard that, I covered my mouth and started thinking.

“Musicians usually are into graffiti, right? Do people like him actually exist?” Boudicia’s doubt was perfectly reasonable.

Bristol’s graffiti was closely connected to its music. Even the walls of concert houses had large murals drawn on them by liked artists. And many artists are involved in both music and graffiti at the same time. Dealing with a musician who actively despised graffiti here in Bristol must be quite a rarity.

“Of course. Right here.” Lara tapped on the phone screen with her flashy nails, answering Boudicia’s answer. “I don’t know if it’s because of Gabriel’s influence, but lately, the atmosphere’s changed. The city council’s been quiet since that last incident, but some citizens still don’t like the idea of graffiti nonetheless. And I’m aware that not all graffiti is correct and deserves to exist. The citizens have the right to judge our art. But…I don’t like this at all.”

The purge of the Bearpit was instigated by the city council, and pushed further by George behind the scenes, but the distrust toward graffiti and its writers still stood by the citizens no less. If so…

“If this opposition grows, then the city council will move again…do you mean?”

“That would be something we could at least deal with to some degree…”

“Heh, if they pick a fight, we fight back. Easy as that.”

“You’re such a simpleton…But that’s also what I like about you!”

“Wah, l-let go!”

Lara leaped over the counter to cling to Boudicia, burying her face in her chest. At first, Boudicia was extremely aggressive and bothered by Lara’s affectionate attitude, but now that some time has passed, I can see that she opened up a lot more, which was a relieving sight. And after enjoying Boudicia for a bit longer, Lara left the store again. She said she’d be on the lookout to make sure the opposition against graffiti didn’t grow any stronger.

“Now then.”

“What?”

“It’s time to work.”

Nelina may have gotten in my way, and Lara brought up an interesting story, but that left it with all the work still undone.

“Mmm, later.”

So Boudicia said, but I was painfully aware that she didn’t mean it in the literal sense of doing it later. However, I wasn’t in the mood for another argument. The only thing on my mind was that Boudicia looked oddly melancholic since that time she was about to say something.

*

By the time all my work was done, the sun had begun to set outside. Because of Bristol’s position on the globe, the length of days could vary quite a lot simply depending on the season. Once winter rolls around, the sky would turn dark already in the early evening. After not doing any helping the whole day, Boudicia yawned loudly and stretched her arms, which once again reminded me of a cat. We locked up the store and then started making our way down south on Rupert Street.

The city was already drenched in a Christmas atmosphere. The street lamps had decorations hung on and around them, and the various shop windows of the street were filled with Christmas trees. All of the town felt excited about the upcoming holidays. Compared to Japan’s snow-white lights and illuminations, the UK felt a lot darker. However, the orange colors everywhere created a warm and inviting sensation.

“Almost Christmas, huh.”

As she uttered these words, Boudicia’s profile had a heart rending look on her face, making my chest tighten up. However, she quickly returned to her usual expression.

“You guys in Japan have Christmas, too?”

Not wanting to overstep any boundaries, I just answered her question.

“We sure do.”

“Oh, huh. So it’s not all Buddhism over there.”

“Explaining that will turn complicated, but I suggest you ask Aeon-san for the details, he’ll probably explain it in easier terms…That being said, Christmas is probably the second biggest holiday after New Year’s.”

“Hmm…So I guess you spend it with your family?”

“That’s mostly the case for New Year’s, but Christmas is usually spent with a partner or so on.”

“I see. Then, what about you? What did you…do last year?”

I thought about it for a moment. And then I opened the door to a painful memory I’d rather forgotten, which made my face stiffen. That’s right, last year was…

“…I was with Nelina-san. She calls you over wherever and whenever, even on holidays. Thanks to that, I was stuck in the radio recording all day.”

“It’s rare to see you complain about something, I gotta say.”

“You’ve met her, haven’t you? That person will make you want to throw complaints around.”

Boudicia listened to my statement and went quiet again. Something’s off, after all.

“That reminds me, wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me earlier?”

“…It’s nothing. And what about you? I interrupted you, right?”

“I…”

In the end, I had to tell her. But because of what we discussed earlier, I was now hesitating. And then, as if my mind had been read, my smartphone made a notification sound. Normally, I’d leave this alone, but just this once, it felt like a saving grace, so I looked down at it. The notification came from a message that Lara had sent me. All it said was “Lower Ram Street.” That’s all it said…But I knew what exactly that was referring to.

“Geez, we were in the middle of a conversation here. If it’s from that fox, I’ll push her down Cabot Tower.”

“Boo-san, this is…”

“…Tsk!”

I showed Boudicia the screen, to which she clicked her tongue and started running. I followed after her. That’s right, she knew. Going down Rupert Street and then taking the turn into Anchor Road, we entered a narrow side street. Two brick walls stand at both sides, as a path continues all the way until a dead end. It was the place where Boudicia had written her first genuine with her left hand—Or at least, it should have been there.

“This is…”

At first, I thought it was a flash of lightning. It went in a straight line, sharply turned, and then twisted up. And this lightning now sliced through Boudicia’s graffiti. Of course, it wasn’t possible to slice through graffiti written on the wall, but the important part of this sight—was that Boudicia’s graffiti was being erased. Like someone had run an eraser along the wall right through the graffiti, revealing the brick stone underneath. There was nothing written on it. It was simply being erased. Erasing parts of Boudicia’s graffiti. Would this also count as an overwrite?

“So you’re here.” Lara stood on the stairs facing the wall.

“Hey, what’s this about?”

“That’s what I want to know. I spotted it while patrolling the area.”

“…Reverse graffiti, huh? Damn bastards.” Boudicia placed her hand on the part of the graffiti that was erased and inspected it.

“Is this also a type of graffiti?”

“Graffiti’s written with spray paint, remember? But you can remove it with a high-pressure washer, writing something new in return.”

“I see. That’s why you call it a reverse one.”

That explained a lot. You erase something to write something new. It sounds quite unorthodox, but it’s one option, one type of graffiti.

“It often happens that you see graffiti being removed like this…but using this method to overwrite is a first for me.”

“This is supposed to be an overwrite? Don’t make me laugh. Normally you practice the alphabet in the nursery.”

“Alphabet…”

I looked at erased parts of the graffiti once more—[Z]. That’s the letter I could make out. If this was like any other graffiti, it might contain some sort of message. It’s the last letter of the alphabet. The end…But to what? Maybe…Graffiti as a whole?

“Boo, what are you going to do now?” Lara’s question pulled me out of my thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“This seems like a tough one to crack.”

“…I know.”

That response filled my head with doubt.

“Is it really that big of an issue? It doesn’t seem like something that’s complicated to surpass, so can’t you simply overwrite it again?”

The rule of overwriting says that the new work has to be either more complicated and time expensive or show a higher level of quality than the previous one. That is the unwritten law of graffiti, taught to me by Aeon himself. However, this reverse graffiti does not seem more complicated or even genuinely better than Boudicia’s graffiti. The previous one had so much more vigor and life to it.

“It’s the opposite. It required next to no effort. Would Boo writing another graffiti over it really count as a victory?”

Lara’s words made something click in my mind. This reverse graffiti does not adhere to the regular rules. As such, it was idiotic to even be bothered by worrying about effort or quality. But that’s exactly why a fight outside the regular playing field was a waste for all parties involved. If the next graffiti ends up erased yet again, there’s nothing to gain. If you’re going to overwrite, you need something that surpasses the norm.

“No matter how you twist it, this isn’t a case where the term overwrite applies. It’s plain and simple disrespect. I can feel clear animosity, too. A wild guess would be that they knew it was the Ghost’s work and purposefully chose this act.”

After the incident at the art museum, talk of the Ghost of Bristol has made the rounds, and everybody in the writer world knew of it. Naturally, the same goes for the signature in the shape of a ghost. And Boudicia has become active slowly but surely since then. However, she was still on the path of recovery, let alone overwriting, she was building up her skill from zero and worked on tags or slow-ups. In fact, rather than writing on walls, she’s been facing her sketchbook more than anything else. And with these few works, assumptions about the identity of the Ghost have been spiraling all over.

The Ghost is a robust man. Maybe an innocent child. A famous musician. A renowned beauty…And while the last one’s pretty close to the truth, these rumors have made the rounds. Of course, a few selected graffiti writers know the Ghost’s identity, but they were keeping this fact a secret. That’s why you could say that this graffiti here on this wall was one of the few genuine works of the Ghost. And just as Lara said, the other person must have been aware of this fact, so erasing it like this was nothing short of a challenge directed at the Ghost.

“Be careful, okay? …Boo, is something wrong?”

Boudicia must have been thinking about the person behind this just as I did, but after Lara called out to her, she sighed once and stopped glaring at the graffiti.

“Nah, it’s all okay.”

“If you say so…Well, contact me if anything comes up,” Lara said as she headed up the stairs and left the scene.

Now it was just me, Boudicia, and the raptured graffiti.

“…Boo-san, what were you thinking about?”

I asked her, as she still had her arms crossed.

“Mm…” She hesitated for a moment and then opened her mouth. “Sure, I could just overwrite it. But…when I saw it, my head felt dizzy, and my chest tightened up.”

I patiently waited for her to continue.

“Seems like I wanted it to remain there a bit longer. It’s an important memory, since it was the first graffiti I wrote with my left hand. And…you were with me, too.”

“You can write something better, I’m sure.”

“I wonder about that.”

I tried to cheer her up, but the reason it turned into something so half-baked is that something struck me as odd. Because…I was there?

“It’s weird, right? So far, I never even thought about stuff like that.” Boudicia stuffed her hands into the pockets of her red hoodie.

I wonder…how aware she even was about the words she had said just now.

“Well, anyway. Just writing something new ain’t good enough, and I wouldn’t know what to write either…Let’s just go home,” she said and turned her back toward the wall, walking away on heavy stomps…which pulled at my heartstrings.

I try to always be discrete and deliberate. That’s why I don’t like to work with hypotheticals and what-ifs. But…the reason why looking at her graffiti like this makes her chest hurt…and the reason why she even wrote this graffiti with her left hand…If there is even the slightest possibility that I am even a tiny fragment of this whole reason, like a tiny drop of ink falling into a large pool of water, then…

“Um, Boo-san.”

“Hm?” She turned around.

Her blonde ponytail and earring shook as she did so. If there’s even the smallest thing I can do to clear up the vague shadow falling over her usual sharp gaze, then—

“…I’ll find [Z] no matter what.”

“You…”

“And then, I’ll make them apologize to you.”

At first, she looked at me in doubt, only to burst out laughing.

“Hah! Not like them doing that would make me any happier.”

I realized what I’d just said and internally groaned in embarrassment.

“R-Right. That’s also true. Sorry for saying something weird like that.”

“Now you’re gonna be the Graffiti Detective? Don’t overdo it, ‘kay?” Boudicia walked toward me, gently bumped her shoulder into mine, and turned around again.

While I rubbed my shoulder, I looked after her. We first met here in this very place, without even knowing of each other’s existence. She planned to erase her graffiti and then leave Bristol. And if Boudicia’s future once again was on the line during this very incident—then I wanted to be of help to her.