As Dylan descended the stairs from the second floor, the sight before him made it feel as though only a few moments had passed since he had gone up to the gaming section. But the truth was quite different.
Even though he had hurried to gather everything he needed, it had still taken him over half an hour. He wasn't exactly an expert in this kind of shopping, and that lack of familiarity had cost him time as he searched through various shelves one by one.
Considering he had only spent around fifteen minutes eavesdropping on Haru's conversation with the store clerk, the delay was significant. He was aware of how much time had passed since getting out of the car, thanks to the silver watch adorning his wrist: a graduation gift from his father.
A rare gesture of affection from the old man, as Dylan fondly called him. His mother, on the other hand, had always been the opposite. More invested in emotional bonds than material possessions, she had celebrated the occasion with a hearty homemade meal.
'Cheapskate,' he had thought at the time, with a fleeting twinge of resentment that faded over the years. In the end, all that remained was the warm memory of how satisfying that dinner had been.
His thoughts drifted briefly as he walked past a poster on the wall. It showed a family sharing a meal together: a composed mother with neatly tied black hair, a blonde and wild-haired father, and their daughter—whose hair was a vivid, almost exaggerated shade of pink. The image stirred something in him, though he couldn't quite say what.
Shaking it off, he approached Haru. She was still standing exactly where he had left her, completely absorbed in thought. Though now looking somewhat frazzled, a clear sign her frustration was building.
"どれを売ろう?どれにしよう?"
'Well, I have no idea what she's saying, huh.'
It wasn't surprising, really. Dylan had never bothered to learn anything beyond Spanish and English. The irony of the situation almost made him smirk; it was amusing, standing next to the very girl who, one day, would break down the language barriers of another world.
'And to think someone like her would be the one...'
"Have you finished your shopping, sir?"
The shopkeeper's voice pulled him out of his nostalgic drift and dropped him back into reality. Dylan's shadow stretched over the counter as the man, looking bored, scrolled through his phone. In a hurry, he stood up to assist him, leaving the device on the office chair he had been sitting on.
"That's right," Dylan replied, barely masking his irritation.
"I see. Were you able to find everything you needed?"
A polite question, but one Dylan found unnecessary. Small talk wasn't exactly his forte: years of handling irate customers and pointless chatter during his time at a call center had made him allergic to it. So instead of answering verbally, he simply nodded and began placing the items from his basket onto the counter.
"Perfect! Let's see how much it all adds up to."
Fortunately, the clerk was used to introverted customers and immediately sensed Dylan's disinterest in talking. Without pushing further, he began checking the product labels and entering the prices into the old computer resting beside the glass display case.
It was a slow process: every price had to be entered manually. The store's owner, intent on saving money, had refused to buy a scanner, arguing that the low customer traffic didn't justify the cost.
As the man continued working—surrounded by the hum of the fans, the click of keyboard keys, and Haru's soft murmurs—Dylan pulled out his phone. He checked a message he'd received while upstairs and sent a quick reply to the guy he'd rented the car from earlier that morning. Then, without looking up, he tossed out a casual question he'd already been mulling over.
"Hey, buddy, do you think this is a good gift for a teenage girl?"
"Huh...? That... uh, no, not really." The clerk hesitated, torn between honesty and the instinct to avoid killing a sale.
'Not bad, boy.' Dylan smirked slightly.
He appreciated the man's honesty, even though it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear.
"Oh? And why's that?"
"…"
'Did I just hit a nerve?'
The clerk stopped typing and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Well... The thing is... I don't really... y'know, get along with girls. So I wouldn't really know, sir." His voice grew fainter as he spoke, as if admitting it was difficult for him.
Dylan observed him in silence, trying to make sense of his reaction.
'Why is he embarrassed about that?'
To him, not being good with women wasn't something shameful.
But apparently, he was the only one who thought so. The moment the words left the clerk's mouth, Haru—who had been rambling non-stop—abruptly fell silent, tension thickening in the air.
That shared discomfort didn't last long. The clerk soon took a deep breath and pushed on:
"B-But! Huh, sorry for shouting. A-Anyway, I still think girls wouldn't be into this kinda stuff."
"I see," Dylan said, ignoring the man's flushed cheeks. "So—"
"What?! That's totally not true!"
Before he could finish, Haru cut him off with a shout full of energy.
"Excuse me, but I must correct him! We girls can enjoy hobbies like this too!"
She stepped forward, positioning herself next to Dylan and pointing at herself with both index fingers. Her expression was serious as her gaze swept across the items on display.
"These are gifts, right? I heard your conversation earlier. Don't worry, sir! If you really believe your daughter will like them, then she will!"
'Daughter?' Dylan blinked, caught off guard.
He had originally planned to pass it off as a gift for a niece. It had never even crossed his mind that without reaching thirty, someone might actually see him as the father of a teenage girl.
Or so he thought.
'It's okay. Just another reason to get in shape...'
With a light shrug, he struggled to let go of the discomfort curling in his gut.
"I see... Since a young lady like you says so, I suppose I should believe it."
Upon hearing his words, Haru's lips curled into a charming smile, like a flower blooming under the spring sun. Enthusiastically, she picked up one of the games Dylan had brought from upstairs and exclaimed, her eyes sparkling like stars:
"Oh! You've made a stellar choice, sir!"
Hearing her praise, Dylan let out a short laugh, though a hint of uncertainty still lingered in his voice.
"You think? Honestly, I'm not too sure. I just asked one of my daughter's friends for advice. She seemed pretty confident, but I still have my doubts."
Haru, on the other hand, looked at him with an expression full of confidence.
"Well, if you ask me, your daughter has great taste! Ah, I'd love to play with her someday—I bet we'd get along really well."
Dylan watched her excitement and, for a moment, allowed himself to reflect.
'You're right,' he thought. 'Without a doubt, you would be. After all, my 'daughter' is none other than your future self.'
Of course, that wasn't something he could say out loud without sounding like a lunatic. Still, while he couldn't reveal the truth, there was something else he could do.
"Really? If you're that interested, I can give you her username in League of Legends."
"Sir, you know about LoL?!" Haru asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
'Now that's a tricky question.'
Earlier, he had claimed not to know much about his 'daughter's' interests, so now he had to stay in character as the clueless dad.
"...Sort of. I only found out about it because one day, it showed up on my work computer. At the time, I had no idea what it was; I thought it might be malware or something. So I asked a friend who knows about tech. He explained everything and said it was probably installed by someone in my family. Unfortunately, when I asked my daughter about it, she denied knowing anything. Though of course, I was never mad at her. I just deleted it the next day, figuring she wouldn't mind."
As he finished narrating the story, an uneasy thought crossed his mind.
'Did I over-explain that?'
He knew that exaggerating any detail or emotion too much could raise suspicion during a performance like this, but before he could worry further, he noticed Haru's eyes—strangely glassy, as if his words had moved her somehow.
Dylan had no idea what had triggered such a reaction, but he chose not to question it. Doing so might only reveal more cracks in his act.
"Anyway, I think I've talked too much about my private life. So, do you want the username or not?"
"I do, I do!"
"Alright then."
Relieved to see her so happy at the prospect of gaining a new friend, Dylan pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. He tore off a blank section and, after borrowing a pen from the store clerk, quickly scribbled down a name: Mariacle—the username under which Haru was known in every game she played, and the alias she would go by for a while in the future.
"Send her a message tonight, okay? I don't like that she spends all her time locked in her room. It'd be better if she had fun with a real friend instead of strangers behind a screen.''
"Understood, sir! I'll take good care of your daughter!"
Dylan inwardly flinched at the intensity of her response.
'That... didn't sound right.'
He suppressed any expression that might betray his thoughts and shook his head to rid himself of any odd interpretations before turning his attention back to the clerk, who was now finishing printing the receipt...
When he stepped out of the store a few minutes later, an uneasy tingle ran down his spine. He had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him, but he chose to ignore it.
It was past six in the evening, yet despite being the height of summer, the air was surprisingly cool. The night had arrived early, casting its dark veil over the world. Glancing up at the clear sky, Dylan spotted the full moon glowing amidst the city's lights; its pale radiance reigned over the starless heavens.
The unpredictable weather reminded him of the effects of global warming, but he doubted it would rain that night.
Deciding to enjoy the moment, he strolled over to a roadside food stall and asked if they had coffee or any hot drinks. The woman behind the counter nodded right away, and before long, she returned with a steaming polystyrene cup in hand.
After taking a few steps, he leaned against the rented car and answered a call, sipping his drink. Despite the caffeine, drowsiness crept in, and after tossing his phone onto the car seat, he yawned.
He wanted to sleep as soon as possible, but there was still one matter to take care of.
"Good evening, young Haru," he said, turning toward her with a broad smile, trying to mask his exhaustion. "Lovely night, isn't it?