I stagger my way through making breakfast, due to my lack of sleep, and my chickens go out. Those little… Going on and on with their chorus all night. Don’t they ever get tired?
That big bag of okara I got is already gone. I guess it makes sense to eat a lot when they’re running around the mountain all day. It’s raining again today, but go crazy and run all you want.
The dehumidifier gets full pretty quickly. I need to check the exterior of the house too, once the rainy season is over. There’s a mountain of things to get through.
“But to think there’s this much water in the air… Incredible…”
I look around the house, and imagine little droplets that can’t be seen. If left alone, they cause mold.
I go out to the field and harvest mustard spinach and cucumber. I bit the cap off a cucumber, and nibble on it. Yes, nice and fresh. Yuma is next to me, and when I ask if it wants one while holding it out, Yuma tears into it.
Come to think of it, my chickens have really sharp teeth. If they bite one of my fingers by accident, I might lose it. These really aren’t chickens.
As I think about that sort of thing, I go check the volume of water in the river again, and when I come back, I take a short nap.
It’s still daytime, but I notice that those two chickens aren’t back from patrolling. Still, just the fact that they’re on the mountain makes me feel better. And with those big tails as lethal weapons, they’re probably the apex predators of this mountain. That means I don’t get worried about them anymore.
“…Could it be that they got bigger to reassure me?”
Like Aikawa’s Rin. It’s a strange story, but not impossible.
Although their bodies being bigger also means they make more noise.
“Ahh…”
I yawn and stretch. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing left to do today. Let’s make boiled mustard spinach and deep-fried tofu.
I manage to sleep peacefully Saturday night. It really was lack of exercise.
And Sunday morning, I prepare breakfast like usual, and my chickens run outside. It’s pretty cloudy today, but it’s not raining. Come to think of it, I think the weather forecast said it wouldn’t rain. It doesn’t tend to be right, here on the mountain.
“Can chickens tell the weather?”
People say that when a cat washes its face, it’s going to rain. Is there something like that for chickens?
Tama tilts its neck, like it’s asking what I’m on about. So awful to me, as always.
Today, Pochi and Yuma went out to patrol. Yuma tends to stay with me more, but they switch it out from time to time. They’re all getting exercise. Being with me doesn’t let them exercise a whole lot. (And Tama seems a little sulky about it)
Since it’s not raining, I’m going to take the opportunity to go up there to see the graves. I feel like I’ll be cursed if I don’t tend to them from time to time. They lived on this mountain after all.
They’re going to get wet again when it rains, but I’ll clean the graves. And pull the bigger weeds too. If I get a little careless, they start spreading their roots widely, and their stalks get thick like trees. Give me some of that vitality too please.
I feel bad that it’s not one of their descendants doing this, but come to think of it, I haven’t gone to visit the graves of my ancestors in a while either.
“A lot of people go during the Bon festival… But if I go after the rainy season ends, I’m probably going to bump into people I know…”
It’s troubling. Not to mention that unlike the nearby village, if I take my chickens to my hometown, they’re going to catch a lot of attention.
“Could I take them with me? But…”
Going back home would take the whole day. It’s at least three hours on the highway just to get there. That’s how far I ran away.
“And they’d be in the vehicle the whole time… That’s a problem…”
“Notaproblem.”
“…Eh?”
Did Tama just say it’s not a problem? I turn to Tama, but it’s acting innocent by pecking at the grass. Can it actually speak as much as Rin?
“Tama, if you can understand me, listen to my troubles…”
“Notlistening.”
“Eeeeeh?”
It does understand. It can talk. What about its vocal cords?
“Tama!”
I get happy and hug it, but it swings its body wildly and tosses me away. What are you doing!? And then it pecks at me a lot.
“Ouch, Tama, that hurts! Sorry, sorry!”
Come to think of it, that might be like sexual harassment. Sorry. I guess Yuma just lets me hug it because it’s nice.
I brush the dirt off my work clothes, and think about going back. But before I do, I check my phone, and see pops called me, so I call back right away.
“Hello? What is it?”
“Ooh, Shouta? We’ve more or less decided what it’s going to be like from tomorrow on. They’re going to be patrolling five or six houses for two or three days. I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow.”
“All right. Thank you.”
I figure that still won’t be enough for my chickens, but it’s better than a house a day.
Then I get a message from Aikawa. He’s going to N town tomorrow, and he’s asking me if I want to come along. I say yes.
I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow either.
