SIDE STORY - spicy-tails.net · remember her saying that she’d go to Lisa’s place. If I’m...

S I D E S T O R Y

S h o r t S t o r y o f

W O R L D E N D E C O N O M i C A

Investment is the process of putting money into securities and

enterprises in an attempt to gain profit.

“Well, well. What might this mean?”

It’s by pure chance that I notice the oddity. A company ingloriously

decorating my lady’s “Doomed to Bankruptcy” list happens to be on

Miss Chris’s “Golden Goose” list. Now, the two of them are investors.

To one a step behind the times such as myself, they seem rather like

wizards, their conjuration springing money forth from money. When

it comes to investing, I simply cannot hold a candle to either of them.

Despite this, there is one thing I do know: they cannot both be right.

One or the other has incorrectly evaluated this company. The only

question is, which of them is it?

As per my habit when having a good think, I turn to Marco as he

conducts his clerical work in the office and request a spot of tea.

The Schweitzer Family I serve can be traced back to traders a

good five hundred years ago. These days, the family operates an

investment firm out of a small office on the Lunar Surface. It would

be more accurate, then, to call me a humble employee of Schweitzer

Investments, rather than the storied family’s butler. Indeed, the 28th

head of the family has assigned me to the care and aid of the 29th,

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S h o r t S t o r y o f W O R L D E N D E C O N O M i C A

Lady Eleanor. My daily labor consists of making sure that my lady does

not fall prey to the myriad temptations that writhe in this god-forsaken

Lunar world.

To give myself a fighting chance, I struggled to learn how to operate

a personal computer, and I can proudly say that I understand the basics

of the vocation my lady has sunk into since fleeing the mansion back

on Earth. She analyzes thousands of companies on the moon, with

another digit added should we count Earth companies. It’s that sheer

amount of enterprises which gives the Lunar Surface its character, for

better or for worse.

Indeed, there are companies about that prove rather difficult

for one of my years to understand, as well as those I feel a touch of

hesitance to give any endorsement. My lady, however, boasts a vast

knowledge of these as well. Yet among a select few are companies

that we cannot lay next to the Schweitzer crest. Mining companies,

for example, whose inhumane labor practices are public secret.

Companies that sell weapons which do little more than bring death

to the world. Contracting organizations that deploy soldiers wherever

they are desired.

Which is not to say, of course, that I spend all the hours of the day

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staring at such information. No, I also parlay with clients who have

the misfortune of being beholden to rather dated ways of looking at

matters. The 29th head of the family, Lady Eleanor, is still young. And

no matter how brilliant she may be, there are those who ignore her

accomplishments in favor of her age. This is where I, and my rather

considerable years, come in.

“Here’s the tea you asked for.”

Marco lays a tea set down before me. He may be young, but he has

consideration beyond his years. Perhaps a touch too stubborn for his

age, though that may be simply be what the era calls for.

“I appreciate it.”

Marco goes back to his work with a smile. Before me is boiled

water, a warmed cup, tea leaves, and a cup for steeping them. As I begin

steeping the leaves, I continue with my thoughts. Miss Chris expects

a great profit from a company that my lady believes is destined for

bankruptcy. This is an excellent example of a clear contradiction. One

of them has to be incorrect, and that means it would not be wise to

leave this be. Miss Chris makes her stock purchases at speeds difficult

for my old eyes to keep up with, but both she and my lady are in

positions to lose much should they make a poor decision.

As the holder of the highest responsibil it y in Schweit zer

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Investment, it is my duty to reduce said risk. However, I cannot say I

am a better investor than either of them. Yet, as I mull over the issue as

I gaze down at the tea leaves dancing in the water, a grand idea strikes

me.

Much like I cannot trust Marco to steep my tea, one cannot leave

matters of investment to the layman. To that tune, I have a perfect man

in mind. Though I cannot personally attest to his abilities, he boasted

of Miss Chris’s approval from the start and earned my lady’s respect,

testifying to his skill. And besides, this would prove an excellent chance

to test his aptitude. With that in mind, I gauge the time to steep the tea

leaves with my pocket watch as I reached for the landline. Then, I give

the man I called a job.

My phone rumbles while I’m doing a bit of helping out around

Lisa’s church. The church, constructed of scrap material, needs repairs,

and the only staff on hand are the two of us. I’ve been never too skilled

with my hands to begin with, and the incident four years ago hasn’t

done my hand any favors, but I can still hold things in place. Besides,

Lisa’s even clumsier than me, so I feel secure in how moderately useful

I’ve been.

Then, the call comes. My face and hands are soiled with paint, as are

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Lisa’s. I wipe them off with my apron, step into the hall, and answer the

phone to find myself subject to yet another odd job.

“Wow, Hal. It’s not every day you look so flustered.”

Lisa remarks as I step back into the church after hanging up. She

doesn’t seem to have been listening in on me—no, she’s just sharp.

What gets me, though, is the fact that even though I can barely emote

after that incident four years ago, she can somehow pick up on my

emotions. What magic is she using?

“He wants me to play detective.”

My announcement has Lisa frozen in surprise, paintbrush in hand.

“Well, well.”

“So, Eleanor seems to think a company that Chris believes is worth

a fortune...is actually going to go bankrupt. One of them has to be

wrong, so he wants me to figure out which. Without either of them

noticing, no less.”

“Hmm. Why so shiftily, though? Is Eleanor’s company really that

secretive?”

She gives me a curious look, implying she didn’t get that impression

from them.

“This probably sounds strange, but you’re kind of put to trial as a

person when you’re investing. You feel proud when things go well, and

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the shame really hits when you lose—and that all gets more intense the

more seriously you’re investing. Hell, when I asked Chris to show me

the results of her investing program, she got all fidgety and red.”

“Oh my.”

“ You probably wouldn’t pick that up if you haven’t invested.

Actually, I’m kind of impressed the old guy had a keen enough eye for

it. Like, knowing that if we sat Chris and Eleanor in a room to work

this out, they might not get into a fight, sure, but there’s no way they’ll

totally trust each other’s judgment in stocks after that.”

Lisa gave me an understanding shrug.

“Well, when you really love something...” She said, glancing at the

statue of Christ in the back of the church’s room.

“It’s a bit of a pain, but I can’t say I’m not interested.”

“In playing detective?”

Since I can’t physically smile, I push up the sides of my mouth to

make one.

“This face would probably make me a perfect private eye, but

that’s not the reason why. Chris and Eleanor are both really talented

investors. It’s not too often they’d be on opposite sides of the fence like

this.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. You should have seen how

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sulky you were while helping with repairs.”

I keep calm at Lisa’s jab and deliver my counterpunch.

“Oh, I wasn’t sulking. I’d say I was just frustrated at how clumsy you

were.”

“...Someone’s getting mouthy.”

It looks like she’s self-aware, at least.

“Well, I’ll get to work. They cut me a pretty beefy check, and I’d

better earn it.”

“Yeah, and I’d better grab someone who knows their way around a

hammer before I bring this whole church down.”

Instead of pushing up my mouth, I opt to shake my shoulders in

amusement. When I start leaving the church, however, Lisa’s words

stop me.

“What’ll you do if you think they both have a point, though?”

I turn around to see her wearing a mischievous smirk, and I’m sure

she thinks she’s asking me which girl I prefer. She throws these topics

at me sometimes. To make me forget about Hagana, I’m sure. If I’m

being honest, I can’t complain about Chris, and Eleanor’s a bit out of

my league.

“If it’s between the two of them?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re going to have to piss one of them off, right?”

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I don’t like dancing to Lisa’s tune.

“Sometimes, you’ve gotta have a bit of both.”

“Hal!”

“I’m talking about investing.”

A sly escape. Lisa looks a touch unsatisfied, but she doesn’t give

chase.

“Right. Investing.”

“Well, take care.”

She lets me off with a wave this time. Still, I have to wonder, what if

I do have to pick Chris or Eleanor? I mean, there’s only one truth, and I

find myself shrugging off the thought of something that I know won’t

happen.

I open the text Hal had sent me to check the time and place noted

within it again. Clapton Square, the café near the big auditorium.

There are plenty of bistros and bars around, and some of them act as

cafés while the sun is still up. Still, I’m sure this is the place. This has to

be the place, I tell myself. Because if I don’t, I’m going to check the text

again and again.

There are still eleven minutes until the meeting time. Last time I

checked, there were twelve minutes. I know that checking it again

won’t make things any faster, really, I do, but I end up looking at my

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tablet again. Eleven minutes left. I let out a groan and take a peek at the

mirror attached to the pillar next to me.

My hair’s popping up and standing on end again. Lisa tells me

it’s fine, tells me it’s my calling card, but I’d really rather have pretty,

straight hair. And sure, you can say that blonde hair is bright and

healthy-looking, but it also has this flighty feel to it. The hair color of

looseness, of lacking the ability to bunker down and be serious. But

most of all, I feel like this blonde hair’s the reason I can’t get rid of the

last of my childishness. I would like nothing more than a nice head of

calm, intellectual, silky-smooth black hair.

Black hair, like Miss Hagana has.

The more I think that, though, the foggier my reflection in the

mirror gets. I flick a strand of golden hair I’d been playing with and

let out a sigh. Hal...still loves Miss Hagana. I lean my forehead on the

mirror in defeat and let out another sigh.

“Something up?”

“Eep!”

The surprise voice from behind has me reflexively try to make a run

for it, but I slam my head against the pillar instead. Something, a loud

sound or impact, ripples through me from my forehead down to my

nose and wipes out my vision for a moment.

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“Urgh...”

My sense of pain finally catches up to reality and my forehead

begins to throb. That’s when I notice I’m flat on my butt, and I hear a

voice from above.

“...You okay?”

I turn around and want to cry. Not because of the searing pain in

my forehead, but because Hal just saw me mess up, big time.

“You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

I can’t remember if this is the fifth or sixth time he’s asked that, but

I know Hal is worried. And I tell him through tears that I’m fine every

time. Still, I can still see the worry and unease on his face as he sits

across from me at our table.

“Make sure you go if it really hurts, all right?”

I nod quietly and clutch my forehead, letting out a tiny yelp.

He probably has it all wrong, though. I didn’t actually seriously

hurt myself when I ran into the pillar. I was just surprised. But when

Hal scrambled to help me up, naturally, he reached to part my hair. To

check to see if I was injured under it on my scalp, of course.

But I didn’t see it coming, and the unexpectedness made me react

as if someone had hit me with a soldering iron. I couldn’t believe I

pulled off an overreaction like that, and the next thing I knew, Hal was

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just standing there with his hand reached out in midair, frozen. I was

going to explain that I was fine, but for some reason, I couldn’t.

It was probably because of what Hal said next.

“Can you walk?”

When I realized he was going out of his way to be considerate,

that put the lid on me. All I could do was ambiguously nod. I put my

hand to my mostly painless forehead and made my breaths labored. I

was kind of surprised that I was such a liar, but I couldn’t stop myself.

When Hal put his arm around me to take us to the café, the chemical

reaction of nervousness and joy made my face so hot it hurt, giving me

a perfect excuse to push away my guilt.

“Er...”

Hal hesitantly speaks up, his voice probing.

“I know it’s probably not the best time to ask, but...”

I peer at Hal under the hand I’m covering my forehead with to see

him regarding me with eyes a touch guilty.

“There’s a few things I wanted to ask you about.”

Things he wants to ask about. Not to ask for. Disappointment hits,

especially when I know I’d say yes to most things Hal would ask me for,

too.

I guess he isn’t asking me out on a date, either. That gets me down,

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but I’m also disappointed in myself, that I keep getting worked up over

tiny things like this.

“Like what?”

“Oh, about investing.”

I guess Hal thinks far more about investing than he thinks about

me. Still, I take a deep breath and release my forehead. When it comes

to investing, Hal can’t look down at me like a child – no, I can stand

shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Investing? Have you heard of any juicy stocks?”

“Hm? Oh, no, not exactly.”

Hal was like a fast-moving beast four years ago, but I can’t say I

dislike how he’s older and calmer now. But even someone as dense as

me can tell that something’s going on if he stutters like that.

“Is it something I need to fix on my end?”

“Well, something close.”

“What is it?”

“This company called Bridge Capital.”

Hearing that name flips a switch in my head, and data pours out.

“Ah, the company with my highest endorsement right now.”

I speak with passion and force in my words. This means Hal is

keeping watch of the company I’m most passionate about right now.

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A smile comes to my face. It feels like he’s acknowledged my investor’s

acumen.

“Yeah, the one on your Golden Goose list.”

“That’s the one. It’s an investment company that’s been around

for seven years now. Its PER was 13 yesterday, its PBR a 1.2, and its

dividend yield is a shocking 9.4%.”

Now, with a stock market as healthy as the Lunar Surface’s, people

don’t pay too much attention to dividends. The other numbers aren’t

terribly surprising for a company like this, either, but it has a few other

reasons for drawing my eye.

“You don’t seem like you’d be too stuck on dividends with your

investment style.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. If more people are trading and the market

is booming, that makes it easier to get into. If you want to dish up a big

profit, you need a big bowl.”

“I see.”

Hal says he sees, but it’s clear from his face that he doesn’t.

I remember what Lisa told me when I said how cute Hal is when

he’s aloof like that. My taste in men, she said, wouldn’t do me any favors

in the future.

“So what else is there?”

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“Well, business is just going really well for this company.”

“Business being investments, right? You sure people like us

investing in it doesn’t just make it a fund of funds? I’m not really seeing

the reason to put money into this.”

Schweitzer Investment is an investment fund, so investing in a

company that invests is like putting a roof on your roof. There are

investment funds that invest in other investment funds out there, but

all they do is double the cost of doing business for clients. These are

popular, for some reason.

There’s a reason I’m sticking with Bridge Capital, however.

“When you think of the stocks that grow the most, what’s the first

thing that comes to mind?”

Hal looks a little surprised before he answers.

“Small businesses, right?”

“Right. Businesses grow the fastest when they’re small, right after

they’re founded. Bridge Capital doesn’t go after the big companies on

the stock exchange. They keep their funding in micro-enterprises run

by individuals, or companies that lend those people funds.”

“So, basically...it’s a bunch of tiny profits, but they grow really

quickly and there’s a lot of them?”

“Right, exactly. Remember the general store I helped my father

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with four years ago? It felt like it kept doubling. Still, the numbers were

really small, and it eventually stopped growing.”

“Oh yeah...?”

Hal doesn’t seem like he gets my grand plan yet. I frown. See, I love

this company, and I want Hal to like it, too.

“This company has a bit of a secret, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s something my father took advantage of. If you’re running a one-

man business, you can borrow capital from the Lunar government.”

“Borrow.”

He parrots that word as if to confirm it to himself, proof that he’s

interested now.

“Say you borrow 100 mools and start your business. Your profit

rate is 50%. But even if you borrow another 100 mools to make it 200,

your profit rate will probably stay at 50%. That means it would be more

profitable to borrow, right?”

“Right.”

“ The ke y d i fference is that mone y you borrow from the

government, you just need to return. Money you borrow from

companies, though? That isn’t how it works.”

“Mm.”

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Hal’s eyes shift away, something he usually does when he’s thinking.

He’ll look like he’s in a bit of a foul mood when in thought. For some

reason, though, it doesn’t scare me. Probably because he looks like a

little boy who’s just lost a game.

I think that’s really cute.

“So, basically, it’s like this.”

The negativity vanishes from Hal’s face.

“Bridge Capital has claim rights not just to the profits from the

100 mools it’s invested, but to the profits from the 100 mools the

enterprises have borrowed from the government?”

I let out a sly smirk.

“That’s right. Basically, it’s like using leverage, and it’s basically free.

In fact, if the business is small enough, they can get reduced taxes,

meaning even higher profit ratios.”

“That makes sense...”

“So they’re using the government system to crank out unreal

profits.”

“And since your program’s picking up on it, you’ll also crank out

unreal profits?”

My cheeks heat up with joy to hear Hal say that. And if it were

the old me, I’d be satisfied with just that. But I’m not the old me—I’ve

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decided to be more daring with my life.

“Y-You’re pretty unreal yourself, upgrading my program so easily...”

It takes everything I have just to say that. I shoot Hal a glance, but

he’s looking down, seeming to be taken a bit aback. Right as I start to

feel down, worrying my praise came off too forced and awkward…

“It’s pretty childish of me to not be able to take a compliment, huh?”

I look up and respond.

“Oh, I wouldn’t...”

I couldn’t finish my sentence because his words came as so much of

a surprise. Hal? Childish?

“Like, you’re really mature when it comes to that, Chris.”

“Huh?”

The surprise has me speechless. He looks at me with eyes so gentle

they color the rest of his frozen expression and continues.

“I want to learn from you.”

Then, he drinks the coffee on table. I just watch him with vacant

eyes. Hal, childish? Me, mature? How many times have I dreamed

of this reversal? Still, Hal is four years older than me, has experienced

things I haven’t even come close to, and always has such a mature look

about him. The only time someone as childish as me can stand next to

him as an equal isn’t when I’m helping him with rehabilitation, or even

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when I told him I’d made it into college.

It’s only when we’re talking about investment.

Realizing that gives me the courage to move forward.

“In that case...”

I speak up.

“I’ll have to shower you with praise.”

Hal responds with a look of surprise.

“So, can we talk more about stocks?”

This bold step forward makes me feel like I’m doing something bad,

but oh-so-fun. It’s the type of feeling I definitely can’t tell Lisa about.

And I don’t regret a thing. This is how I’ve decided to live.

A spark of laughter slowly overtakes the surprise in Hal’s eyes,

ending with his shoulders shaking. Then, he responds.

“Sure, I don’t mind. Just not enough to make Lisa mad, all right?”

His smile is contagious, and I answer.

“Not enough to make Lisa mad, then.”

The first, bold step is a valuable one. The rush in my heart is similar

to how it feels when I first buy a stock. Hal’s attention might be fixed

ahead on Miss Hagana, but all I need to do is keep pushing my pace,

until I’m at least standing beside him.

One does not make a fortune in a single day.

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While I’m quietly getting excited about pushing myself, Hal’s eyes

are distant.

“Hm?”

Then, he mutters something to himself. I turn around to follow his

eyes, nervousness accenting my action. There’s when I see her: Eleanor,

coming down the escalator with a group of suit-clad men. She’s a tall

girl with a resolute air about her, looking only more noble among

businessmen.

Hal quickly gets up and turns to me.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

“W-Wait, what?”

He hobbles off with his cane, and I can’t even say anything. I just

watch as Eleanor takes notice of and stops in front of him. I let my

program run as I observe.

See, here I thought Hal only had eyes for Miss Hagana. But when I

think about it, Eleanor is beautiful, with pretty platinum blonde hair.

She acts really mature, and most of all, she’s amazing when it comes to

knowledge about investing.

Still, even though I think it’s a long shot, I put a label in my mind’s

program, just in case: watch out for Eleanor.

Self-loathing hits. This is childish, I think. But I’m bolder now, so

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the thought strikes me.

Maybe I’m not the one at fault here.

“Stupid Hal.”

I poke at the coffee cup he left behind.

That day, I’d been all over the moon, and all to evaluate companies

I find nothing but utterly pathetic. This is my work, and it is a stepping

stone for my grander goal. I can’t let myself do a sloppy job. However,

when I think of how a company’s stocks would rise or fall depending

on my evaluation, the temptation to give them ridiculous ratings

presents itself on occasion.

Part of me wants to give the best companies an awful rating and

praise scam enterprises to the high heavens, throwing the markets into

disarray. The dark thoughts bubble up inside of me, reminiscent of

the joy of pouring water into an ants’ nest as a child and watching its

denizens scramble about amidst the chaos.

I think I’m tired.

I’ve known this for a while, but it feels like I’ve gotten fragile right

down to my core.

Perhaps, I find myself weak enough to think, I should take a few

days off.

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They say the Lunar Surface’s financial world runs ten times faster

than Earth’s. If I take even a few days off, I’ll be behind. Extremely

behind. And worst of all, that blasted analyst Eisman would take all of

my work.

Still, countless companies looking to take advantage of the Lunar

Surface’s economic boom pop up one after the other, each more

dishonest than the last. No matter how many I crush, I’m just one

woman against legions of greed.

Exhaustion hits. This feels like a futile job.

What’s worse, the lunch they had delivered during the meeting was

unacceptable. Pizza, with extra cheese and salami, and some cola? Did

they think they were serving a testosterone-addled day trader? Could

they not have provided a real meal?

I step onto the escalator, quivering in rage behind the sunglasses

I’ve disguised myself with. I have about thirty minutes before the

next meeting. Grand Central Hotel isn’t a terribly far distance from

Clapton Square, and sitting down in the booth with the aquarium

in that café, sipping some fragrant coffee, sounds like a wonderful

refresher.

But as I entertain those thoughts, I notice someone walking

towards me. Ever since I’ve started appearing on TV and in magazines,

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I’ve grown awfully sensitive to people trying to approach me in public.

I grimace at myself as I turn to the person, thinking my talent a rather

unpleasant one, when I’m surprised at who I see.

“Hal?”

“Hello. I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a moment?”

“Sure.”

When I step off the elevator, I feel the eyes of the men I was in a

meeting in the hotel upstairs with. The financial world has few women,

so I know how much I’m standing out, for better or worse. Still, Hal

and I do not have that kind of relationship, and what’s more, I’m too

tired to care.

“What do you need? After my autograph, perhaps?”

At this moment, I ’m not Eleanor Schweit zer, head of the

Schweitzer family. No, I’m the massively popular stocks analyst, Susie

Wu. Hal politely pushes a side of his mouth up with his finger to laugh

at my joke. I would be annoyed if anyone else did this, but coming

from him, it’s endearing.

“Less an autograph and more an opinion on a stock.”

“A stock?”

I tense up slightly. A reflex from sensing work, no doubt.

“There’s one I’m wondering about investing in.”

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“......”

Hal has a sharper eye for investments than even Chris does. I have

to feel at least a little suspicious about what he's going to ask me, so I

decide to throw him a bit of a curveball.

“This would be much easier if you were a girl, Hal.”

“Huh?”

“When girls chat about whether or not to ask someone out, there’s

usually only one answer, right?”

Ever since his miserable experience four years ago, Hal has been

blaming himself for his downfall, all with the face like an old man who’s

had it with the world.

But when he’s surprised, he always looks childish.

Seeing that look on his face makes me feel a little relieved. Probably

because in a place as filled with greed and falsehood as the Lunar

Surface, it feels like one of the few scraps of truth.

“But, you know what they say. Never fall in love with a stock.”

“Indeed. And a girl coming of age is like a freshly-hatched chick.”

I can likely blame my fatigue for the barbs in my words. Hal keeps

his eyes on me.

“Tired?”

He sounds more amused than considerate, but I appreciate the

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gesture.

“Things here go ten times faster than on Earth. How could I not

be?”

“Ah... More meetings after this, then?

“Right after. What was it that you needed? Something we can’t talk

about here?”

“I don’t think it will take too long, but...”

“But?”

Hal may not be able to physically emote, but I can see the mischief

in his eyes as he responds.

“It might excite you a bit too much.”

“My, whatever could you mean?”

“Bridge Capital.”

I stiffen up the second I hear the name. Before I know it, Hal’s

shoulders are shaking, as if he is coughing. I can tell right away that he’s

laughing at me.

“Well, you’re right. That isn’t a name I can keep calm after hearing.

And you going out of your way to bring it up could only mean...”

“Mm-hm. I’m a reckless boy rather than a cautious girl, you see, so I’d

like to hear the views of an experienced lady.”

Hal is like dust in the air. You can try to catch him, but he will

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simply dance out of your grasp, fluttering around you all the while

until his needle pricks deep. A simple glance at his investment history

told me of this sharpness, and that is what has won him his sizeable sum

from me.

“In that case, tomorrow...no, the day after tomorrow would be best.

Around lunchtime. With just the two of us, might I ask?”

“Hm? Oh, right. This may be a bit too exciting for Marco or Chris

to hear.”

“In that case, I can give you a piece of advice right here, right now.”

“That being?”

I can’t tell if Hal is a grown man or a little boy. I sigh and deploy my

device.

“You don’t want to extend invitations like that in front of other girls.

Chris looks pretty unhappy.”

“Wh...”

Hal must not have paid that any mind, because he quickly turns

back to face the table. Goodness. The man can’t see the forest for the

trees.

Whether you’d call that being foolish or simply not letting trifles

get to him comes down to a matter of opinion.

I pull out my tablet, secure myself some time during lunch the day

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after tomorrow, and then speak.

“Well, I’ll get us a table for two. See you then.”

I give him my best smile and turn away. I feel him giving me a

baffled look from behind, but I’m just as surprised as he is. Why did I

put on a smile like that? No, why did I want to fluster him so?

As an analyst, I’m well-versed in looking back and analyzing my

decisions. And yet, this time, I’m at a loss.

“I’m probably tired.”

That, and the company Hal brought up was a dangerous name.

Of all the thousands of companies one could buy stock in, he had to

bring me that one. And I can’t imagine it’s a coincidence. The company

drew my attention, and it must have drawn Hal’s nose, as well.

I smile behind my sunglasses. We really are master players, obsessed

with the same game.

Something feels twisted about ordering the highest class fast food

in the world at the front desk of the highest class hotel on the Lunar

Surface. When it gets to my room, however, excitement washes all of

that away.

A cheese-plastered pizza may be slop for the traders, but this—this

is a symbol of youth itself, and I can say that with a straight face. I take a

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massive chomp out of a hamburger the size of my head.

“Some things never change.”

Hal, sitting across from me, doesn’t seem terribly impressed by my

display. I said I’d reserve two seats, but in fact, that’s all this room has.

Hal and I sit facing each other in the dining room of my hotel room,

and it’s filled with books.

“It’s not as if this would taste any better with a knife and fork.”

“Mm, just as buying stocks in a three-piece suit won’t make their

price jump, either.”

“Precisely.”

I munch on a fry after answering.

“Now then, Bridge Capital, was it?”

Hal seems a bit surprised that I brought it up.

“I’m sorry, were you in a hurry?”

He seems to be thinking I cut to the chase for want of time.

Now, I could clear up the misunderstanding right away, but where

would the fun in that be? I take a sip of the black liquid that has melted

the bones of countless humans.

“I have time, but I can only keep up my smile while having this junk

food, I’m afraid.”

Hal looks at the hamburger at his hands and shrugs.

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“Well, about Bridge Capital, then.”

“Since you brought it up, should I assume you wish to buy?”

“Since a short sell would be harder.”

Anyone could understand the process of buying a stock and

waiting for the price to go up. There are, however, more dastardly ways

of playing the market. Borrowing and selling stocks one does not own,

and then waiting for the price to go down so that they can buy back

and return what they’ve borrowed, for instance. Short selling.

“Not that I’m opposed to short selling if I have a reason to do it.”

“I’d imagine so. Judging from your investing history four years ago,

you didn’t seem the type to buy stocks and patiently let them lie.”

“You seem less than fond of this company, though.”

I give Hal a bit of a glare.

“Beating around the bush, are you.”

Still, it feels a little nice.

“You are correct. Did you find it on my Scam Companies list?”

“Wasn’t it your Doomed to Bankruptcy list?”

“Ah, it was.”

The Lunar Surface is so filled with lies the company would be at

home on either.

“Its PER, PBR, ROA, ROE and interest coverage ratio aren’t bad at

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all, and the dividend yield is as good as it gets.”

Since Hal is being a little mean in his presentation, I swish the ice in

my cola with my straw a bit before responding.

“If I saw a man too good to be true, I wouldn’t believe him.”

“...Is that all?”

“Oh, no.”

I decide to stop our little exchange of jokes.

“Bridge Capital is a scam operation. That I believe.”

“Because it’s basically a loan company?”

“Investment company” may please the ears, but Bridge Capital

specifically lends money to people who come to the Lunar Surface

with nothing more than the clothes on their back and hopes of starting

a business. They do this in the form of “investing capital,” allowing

them to take from the business owners’ profits for as long as they

please. One does not need to deal with a loan company after repaying

the money owed, but a shareholder? As long as business goes well,

they will continue to suck up those profits.

But I am not one to be a stickler over such ethical concerns.

“Their business practices are the problem.”

“Business practices?”

“The way they operate, in essence. The method of their crimes.”

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Hal simply nods, without a word of agreement.

How long has it been since I’ve spoken to someone who did not

simply credulously believe everything I say, like those who see me on

TV, or eagerly wished to refute me, like my rival analysts? No, Hal is

simply listening to me, giving me my fair say.

“Bridge Capital funds many individuals and micro-enterprises.”

“I looked into it. They’ve got from two to three hundred.”

“That they do. Now, did you look into how that progressed?”

“Yeah. Their return on investment’s about 70% year-over-year.”

Hal gives me the right answer to the wrong question.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Huh?”

“How the individual recipients of Bridge Capital progressed, I

mean.”

Hal looks genuinely surprised at that. And I can’t blame him. Most

people on the Lunar Surface with investing fever do little more than

look at surface information before throwing in immense sums of

money. After all, no one has the time to do the research into any one

company before they invest.

“You’ll notice this if you look into it, but Bridge Capital’s business

is going a little too well. They aren’t getting a return of ten percent or

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higher on their investment, no. Many of the stocks they’ve sold off have

been for many times the money they invested. Of course, the appeal

of a small business is seeing how quickly and big it grows if you catch

a good one. In Bridge Capital’s case, however, when their investments

see profits, it’s only from those kinds of businesses. Do you understand

what I am saying?”

I deliver my words with such force that I can see why people

whisper about me being “bossy” or “too aggressive” behind my back.

“Essentially, they have never suffered a loss.”

“Well, maybe they...”

“They’re good at investing? Is that why? You can’t be serious.”

I scoff and continue.

“I’ve spoken to genuine moneylenders. The types of people who

loan money to those the banks won’t. Now, the people who take these

loans use them for business, of course. And from the people I spoke

with, there are quite a few examples of business owners who turned

those loans into massive successes. But for every business you lend

money to succeed so? Bridge Capital is in far too comfortable a spot.”

“...So they’re covering something up?”

I nod.

“However, the actual profit Bridge Capital has seen, the assets

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they’ve invested in and sold, are all real. Despite my hunch that they

had a shell corporation buying some fake businesses.”

“Then, the cover-up is... Oh, I get it. To raise their average, they just

need to make sure no losses show up?”

I smile brightly.

“Precisely.”

Hal’s eyes, however, do not agree so easily.

“Have you confirmed this?”

“Did you think I hadn’t?”

I accept his challenge with a smile, and Hal averts his eyes, face as

neutral as ever.

The last Schweitzer was crushed by the foolishness of the crowds

who believe all that they are told, and the cowards that took advantage

of them. This has taught me not to believe in simple data, no matter

how much is shown to me. I must see to believe.

“Stupid question, sorry.”

And Hal has acknowledged that. I let the tension out of my

practiced smile, allowing a natural one through.

Hal always sees what people prize, no matter how they hide it, and

the stock market is a battle of wits. It’s easy for me to see why he stands

out in it.

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I have a feeling, too, that he can prize what others prize because he

lost something so dear to him four years ago. And come to think of it,

I think I know why I find speaking to Hal so...comforting. It likely isn’t

just his witty responses, no. It’s because he understands me. And here

on the Lunar Surface, where people think of everything in terms of its

monetary value, Hal sees the true value in the truly valuable.

It’s probably that weakness of his.

I pluck out a slightly cold fry and nibble its end. Then, I give Hal a

mischievous look. He seems a bit flustered.

“Bridge Capital is simply shining a light on their profits and hiding

their losses, managing to barely keep afloat. They say the businesses

they’ve funded are still going, claiming no loss. But I see through it.

Their profit ratio is far lower—in the red, even. Which is precisely

why...”

“They’re doomed to bankruptcy?”

I let a beat pass before replying with a smile.

“They’re a scam company.”

“...So, is this a short sell?”

“Short sell.”

I repeat Hal’s words, like he often does himself. A touch of hostility

colors his eyes. It looks like he knows he’s being imitated, and I’ll bet

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someone else teases him like this often. If they didn’t, he wouldn’t be

able to pick up on his own habits so well. It must be someone close to

him, that sister-like nun, perhaps. Lisa.

A mature woman.

There’s a touch of malaise in my heart, and it probably isn’t because

of Lisa.

“Hal, you aren’t actually planning on short selling, are you?”

Short barbs peek between my words.

Hal always looks like a man bearing the world’s troubles, but if you

catch him off guard, he’ll sometimes make the most childish face.

And I was a bully in my youth.

I nibble my fry some more and continue.

“Perhaps I should speak of the true value of investing. You could call

it a problem of choice, really.”

Saying “choice” seems to have clued him in. He shoots me a testy

look that says I should have told him earlier.

“Chris is making quite an immense profit from that company, is

she not? And I imagine Le Goff entrusted you with investigating the

details, without letting either of us know.”

“...Right on all counts.”

“Well, I noticed the matters with Chris after running into you the

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other day.”

I make sure to say this with an innocuous look. Hal looks even

more bitter at his loss.

“What were you thinking, slinking around your employer’s back

like that?”

“I didn’t think it would make you that angry.”

“Angry?”

I repeat his word, and that’s when I notice. Get...angry? True, I

suppose I am angry. But, why? I look back at Hal, stunned myself, then

notice right away.

“Of course I would be angry.”

And I speak.

“Because you did not say this was a short sell, even after hearing my

explanation.”

Like a child, I want his agreement. I could say this was because of

the reason I’m in the stock market to begin with. Because of what I

believe is right. I want that approval, someone to say that I’m doing the

right thing.

I know I’m being selfish, but not in a childish way, oh no. I say this

like any proper daughter of a noble house would, with my tone as

demanding as it needs to be.

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“Chris is making a big profit, though. I’d say that’s a fact.”

“And?”

I lay in strong, as if pressuring him to choose Chris or myself.

They say you should never fall in love with a stock. No matter how

much you love it, it won’t hesitate to betray you. But what of one’s

motivation to pick a stock itself?

It is hard to put a prize on hearing someone like what you do. And I

can tell from the pained look on Hal’s face that he knows the answer I

want to hear. He’s not the type who can give a half-baked answer to get

out of an awkward situation.

He’s too honest for that.

I look past him, out to the skyscrapers of Newton City. And with

a smile, I let myself bask in a pleasant sensation, much like that of

drifting off to sleep, as I think: please. Let me be the demanding rich

girl, just a little longer.

“So, how did it turn out?”

I hear those words the moment I lay the Irish coffee my customer

usually orders before him.

I have worked as a server at this hotel—the highest class on the

Lunar Surface—for no small amount of time, and I have come into

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contact with my fair share of customers. However, I cannot say that any

of them stand out quite as much as this one. For some reason, you see,

whenever he visits this café, he gives me a course on the stock trade.

“How did what turn out, might I ask?”

“That stock, the one I told you about. Bridge Capital.”

“Ah, that one. I let it go.”

“You let it go?”

“I did.”

I pick the silver tray back up and hold it by my elbow.

“Which means you didn’t think holding onto it would do you any

good.”

“I did not.”

“Then why didn’t you want to short sell it?”

Now, I am not so ill-mannered as to pry into my customers’ affairs,

but I still find myself able to find out just how successful they are. This

customer, however, is nothing like the others, the ones who trip over

themselves to show off their success. Appearances mean little to him—

he simply likes the coffee here.

Which is how I can tell his question is serious. Rather than giving

one of my typical answers, that sounds fine but has no depth, I elect to

take a moment to think. That is what etiquette demands.

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“Though, yes, you taught me of short selling, I shall not.”

“Oh yeah? Isn’t that strange? If it’s not a buy, it’s a sell. Am I wrong?”

His eyes say he already knows the answer too well. They have a sense

of childish amusement to them, and I am sure it is because he knows

that I know.

“As you have taught me, I researched them meticulously.”

“Yeah? And?”

“I believe that the company is, unfortunately, only recording their

successful investments as profits while leaving their poorer businesses

as-is, thus inflating their profits.”

“Oh yeah?”

“However, it is true that their business is going well.”

I may sound like a skilled investor as I say this, but all is thanks to his

teachings. As I speak, I feel as though my eyes have been opened. It is

not every day, after all, that I can truly feel just how much this man has

poured into me in terms of knowledge.

“So you would give up your position, then, for no risk? You think

that’s the best choice?”

He shoots a glare up at me, and I remember the graduation exam I

had to take at etiquette school.

“That is but half of my answer.”

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“Oh?”

He turns his head to me, rather than simply his eyes. I steel myself.

“Working at this hotel has allowed me to pick up on the trends of

the world. To feel them, if you will. And that has taught me one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

He smiles, seeming to know my answer.

“Falsehood lasts surprisingly long.”

I have seen much in this hotel. Infidelity, immoral romances, the

extravagant excesses of the nouveau riche, attempts to win great sums

of money for ventures built on deceit. Many have come to this hotel,

this café, and they all vanish. Good and bad alike.

Yet, through working here and observing, I have learned that even

that with a foundation of falsehood lasts a surprisingly long time.

Despite not being a woman of faith, I often wonder what God is busy

with. Yet, the reason I still find myself opening the Bible on occasion

is not because I was born on Earth, but because I know that almost no

one avoids pitfalls forever.

“That company will eventually get its due. The problem is, one of

my modest investing talents cannot venture a guess as to when. Thus, I

will not buy in hopes of its price rising, and I will not sell in anticipation

of its fall. Having no part of this is the best move. And yet, that is still

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only 90% of my answer.”

“And the last 10%?”

He leans back comfortably in his cushiony seat, closing his eyes as if

enjoying some music. I quietly answer.

“I invested in my own integrity.”

He sits relaxed, eyes closed, looking almost as if he has fallen asleep

for a moment. I know that is not the case, however. Then, his mouth

twists before he bursts out laughing, entire body shaking.

“Haha, hahaha! It seems my trust in you is not wasted. Most of the

suits that strut around the city streets like the own the place don’t have

that kind of eye for quality.”

“You are too kind.”

“But no, you’re right. An investor’s integrity...or beliefs, we could say.

That’s what you want to stay true to. That’s what investing is all about.

The stocks, the companies—they’re just a mirror, reflecting it back to

you. All you want is profit, it looks like a golden goose. You want to do

what’s right, it looks like nothing but a scam operation. In that sense,

this is quite the good stock. There’s a lot to learn from it.”

“Indeed. Yet…”

I say something I almost never say to a customer. The moment

you say “yet” or “but” to a customer, you have failed to provide proper

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service. Such is what I learned. Still, my curiosity overtakes my sense of

duty.

“Yet what? Come on, let’s hear it.”

“Thank you.”

I straighten my stance and ask him my question.

“I cannot help but think that you see even further beyond.”

“Oh?”

“You will neither buy nor sell, nor stay neutral.”

Now, I know there is no other possibility, and yet. I believe that this

man, an investor of his caliber, would have his eyes set squarely on that

impossible possibility. Or, perhaps his authoritative air simply makes

me believe that.

Still, shame hits me when he falls silent. He may have allowed my

question, but a breach of etiquette is a breach of etiquette. I am a

server, and he is my customer. A customer, and a professional, I would

imagine. Prying into his secrets for my curiosity alone must have been

rude.

“Forgive me.”

“Hm?”

He adjusts his position in his seat and gives me a gentle smile.

“I just thought you were a bit too pretty to speak about that with.”

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“...You are too kind.”

When you work a job like this, you have customers who say things

like this to you from time to time. I give him my reflexive answer I give

all the others, but when I look up, I find him chuckling at me.

“A suitable answer for one who works at this hotel, indeed. I’m not

joking, either.”

He quickly adds that last part, but I had not doubted him.

“Let me know when you change workplaces. I’ll order coffee if it’s a

café, and hire you if it isn’t.”

Is this a jest? Is he serious?

Or is he simply hinting at a third path, while taking the fourth?

I cannot hope to put together an answer.

Yet from that unknowability, I feel not fear, but comfort. It must be

his personality. I smile at him with a thank you.

I let out a sigh as I watch the beautiful, silver-haired server take her

leave. There I went, enjoying a conversation with a younger woman,

hardly acting my age. I let out a grimace. Guilt? Utterly ridiculous.

I pull out my tablet and contact the subordinates I have on Earth

working the markets.

The job: Bridge Capital.

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“It’s me. How much of that stock did you manage to buy? Right.

Buy as much as you can. The price’ll go up the more you buy. That’s

how it’s set up. Just like a Ponzi scheme. Hm? The sell timing? That’s

not for you to worry about.”

I finish giving my orders, let out a sigh, and sip my coffee. There are

many evil actions in the world, but the number of categories is rather

lacking. Most are mere variations.

And Bridge Capital is another variation.

In a Ponzi scheme, one boasts of high returns and gathers funding,

then pays off said returns. The payment, however, is done with the

initial funding. Still, that gives them “evidence” of how lucrative the

venture is, allowing them to gather more victims and more funding.

They pay the returns as promised, but do no investing, no. All they

do is pay off the returns from the funds they collect, and the funding

keeps coming as more and more hopefuls are drawn in by said high

returns. It is a castle built on sand.

Now, a wise conman will know when to make his exit, doing one

final call for funding before disappearing.

Bridge Capital is doing something similar. Something in a murky

gray area of legality.

They would sell off companies that did well to turn a profit, return

0 4 5


those profits to shareholders as dividends, and draw the eyes of

prospective investors. Then, they can use high stock prices preserved

by their popularity to turn said stocks into cash, or have new investors

buy those stocks to gain funding. From there, they continue to invest

in other small businesses. They’d fund them hundreds at a time, sell the

ones that did well, distribute dividends, and repeat.

A wise investor would think that Bridge Capital would end up with

a book full of bad assets.

Now, there’s one special quality this company has that makes it a

kind of Ponzi scheme. As they grow in popularity, gaining funding and

scale, the losses from their failed investments occupy a smaller piece of

their funding pie.

Say they had 1000 mools in funding, and ended up with a total

loss of 400 mools. If you look at one of their investments, let’s say, it’s a

profit of 500 mools. When that money goes to dividends, it’s going to

be massive. Now, that will draw eyeballs. Say we have 10,000 mools this

time. 400 mools out of 1000 mools is a 40% loss, but 400 out of 10,000

is only 4%. The larger the pool of funding, the smaller the loss on the

books gets.

A cunning trick, yes, but any trick can be taken advantage of if you

know how it works. That’s one lesson I didn’t give that cute server.

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I call someone else on my phone, one of the guys I have gathering

information.

“It’s me. What’s the story on that job? You got it? Evidence, too?

All right, organize it all. When that price blows up, you send it to the

justice department. Right. Drop some dirty breadcrumbs for ‘em, too.

Good.”

She thought the company would eventually get its due, but could

not tell when. And that makes me chuckle. Indeed, who can say when

it will fall into bankruptcy? Who can say, except the man who causes

it.

If you open your coffers to gather information and spend money to

get people on the ground, a compromised company will fall. That is a

fact.

My investment philosophy is simple. Make the best profit at the

best time using the best methods. If I know the price is going to rise, I

don’t care if it’s a fraud of a company, I’m buying those stocks. If there’s

word that it’s soon time to sell, I’ll switch gears and hurry things along.

It’s all how much I can make from what I spend.

And perhaps a touch of pleasure from exposing a group of frauds? I

chuckle. Perhaps I had put a touch too much brandy into my coffee.

I think, too. What a bore every day is! Is there no one with some

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exciting news? That fireball of a brat from four years ago sure was some

fun. Will I see him again, I wonder? If he’s still investing, possibly. I

imagine the look on his face, if we did meet again.

The image brings a bit of a smile to my face. It must be the brandy.

With that, I lean back in my comfortable seat, let out a chuckle, and

allow myself a spot of sleep.

“Well, that does sound like Hal.”

For some reason, it’s Serrault I hear the end of Hal’s detective story

from. Apparently, he’d heard it from Chris, who disappointedly said

she’d had a feeling it would end up like this. Still, Serrault goes on like

he usually does, talking about how Chris keeps talking with him, and

how maybe she has a thing for him. I make sure to tell him the chances

of that are zero.

The two of them talk about computers a lot, so I think they’re fairly

close.

By the way, this conversation takes place while Serrault is helping

me repair the church. Surprisingly, he’s handy with that kind of thing.

Part of me thinks that I probably should be nicer to him, since he’s

helping me and all.

“Don’t you feel it’s kinda not like him, though?”

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“Hm?”

“Like, he normally would have made a bunch of money from it,

then reported them to the government, don’t you think? But instead,

he just told Chris to get out of there, and that...Eleanor, was that her

name? He told her she might want to keep away.”

I don’t really understand investments, but I get what he’s trying to

say.

I think I understand Hal a little more than investing, though.

“I guess he has his ideals when it comes to investing, right?”

“Hm?”

Serrault looks less than in agreement, but I simply sigh. I let out the

first thought that floats into my mind.

“He’s definitely dedicated...”

“Hm? You say something?”

“Nothing at all.”

With that, I get up from my chair.

“So, how much longer should repairs take?”

“About...an hour.”

“Let’s have dinner somewhere, then. My treat.”

“Seriously? Damn, I shoulda dressed better, then.”

“And get all covered in paint?”

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“Oh. Good point...”

Serrault looks genuinely disappointed. I strain out a smile and think

of Hal.

He isn’t forcing himself after one, and he’s not going after both at

once. He definitely wouldn’t have been like that four years ago. And

as I mull over that, someone else comes next to Hal in my mind.

Someone Hal bases his actions off. Even now, pain follows her name.

Yet, that’s the type of love of which humans are capable.

“Really, I’m jealous.”

Thinking of that, it strikes me. Maybe the world isn’t all bad.

Afterword

This is a side story of the finance adventure visual novel, World End

Economica. It’s intended for those who have finished playing through

the game, so it has a few spoilers!

Now, I had a poll on Twitter for those who finished the game,

asking which character to write a story of. The results were impressively

evenly divided, leading to the story taking the shape that it did. Hagana

didn’t make an appearance, but, well...she really couldn’t. Sorry. But!

She should be in the last episode, so please look forward to that.

0 5 0


By the way, the company in this story has a model in real life. It’s

Allied Capital, from the book “Fooling Some of the People All of the

Time.” The book was written by the hedge fund manager who was

short selling Allied stock, David Einhorn, so it’s a bit biased, but seeing

what happened to Allied afterwards...I figure he was probably right.

I’m hoping to use more tidbits like this that I couldn’t use in the

main WEE series in stories like these. I’m hoping to get out one new

book each quarter, as well.

Still, my biggest objective right now is finishing the final episode!

All of us on staff are working our hardest, so I really hope you like the

final product. Oh, and there’s a translation in the works, as well, so

please take a look at the developer website if you’re interested. http://

spicy-tails.net

Well, here’s hoping I’ll be able to finish another book by Summer

Comiket.

From a sit-down restaurant drenched in capitalism in the dead of

night,

Hasekura Isuna

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P R O M E N A D E



This is a tale of what happened shortly before the finale.

“So, I’ve put in the request for time off.”

At 3:30 a.m., I return home to the first time in 184 hours and lie

down for the first time in 47 hours. Two and a half hours later, however,

I leap up at the sound of my 6:00 a.m. alarm clock, and those are the

first words I hear.

“Time...off? Oh, you’re going back to Earth? Well, you have been

working a lot lately. Good idea, Lisa.”

After not getting even ten hours of sleep a week lately, I’ve almost

forgotten what it feels like to be sleepy. My joints all ache, the area

above my temples feels incredibly heavy, my throat is dry, my skull feels

like it’s made of clay, and yet, my mind remains surprisingly clear.

Which means whether or not I can still work is just a question of

whether my body will listen to what I say.

I slowly pull myself off the couch, noting that my shoes are still

on, and notice a fully prepared breakfast right there on the table. My

appetite returns. It feels like it’s been ages. Lisa can be awfully strict

when it comes to “living properly.” Under her watch, you have to

eat three square meals and actually sleep at night. And certainly, it

would be wonderful to have such a beautiful life rhythm, as classic as

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Newtonian physics, but can she not see that now is not the time?

Mulling that over as I reach for the freshly-brewed coffee, I stop.

What is Lisa doing here? I flip through my memories. I left Lisa’s

church years ago. But before I can continue my thought...

“It’s not time off for me. It’s for you.”

“Huh? What? Lisa, why—”

“And here’s the key to the apartment.”

She throws it at me. I catch it and see that it is, indeed, the key to this

apartment, but I can’t remember giving her a spare key. I guess I could

have, since I at least have the self-awareness to know I can’t maintain

my life with how busy I am, so I can see myself asking her to keep my

room clean. Then again, I’ve barely been home, so it isn’t like I have any

way of dirtying my room.

And besides, when Lisa gets really worried and brings food, it’s

always to the government office.

As I absently look down at the key, I notice the keychain it’s on. The

wily-looking cat, its coat a dull gold.

“Aha!”

I finally recognize the key, and Lisa lets out an immense sigh.

“I can’t believe you. And you’re making decisions that decide the

fate of tens of thousands?”

0 5 4


“Huh? Well, hey, that’s totally different...”

Just a few hours ago, I was in an incredibly long meeting with Earth,

about dealing with the consequences of the Lunar Surface’s housing

bubble and all the damages that explosion of greed caused. Stock

prices on both plummeted, reaching to half of their total price in a

mere two weeks. You can imagine the confusion this caused investors,

all their wealth suddenly being halved. For a moment, I thought that

all companies would go bankrupt, nations would collapse, currency

would be abolished, and we’d go back to stone age bartering.

Yet, just as modern medicine can bring someone back from the

brink of death where they would previously have fallen prey to the

grave, the financial system still lives on. All I do now is deal with the

aftershocks of the crisis, but the constant decisions presented for me

to make involve the livelihoods of tens, even hundreds of thousands of

people.

The scale is so huge that I can hardly believe, sometimes, that any

of it is real. To think that my signature is all it takes to either extend a

life-saving rope to a huge yet dying company, or condemn it to its fate.

Even worse are the many that I don’t even have the time to think them

over carefully, to consider all of my options.

If a company goes under, plenty of people can end up on the streets,

0 5 5


their lives utterly ruined right before their eyes. How can I know if I, a

mere mortal, have the right to decide such things? I vaguely recognize

that saving the world from financial destruction might be a little above

my pay grade, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m lending a hand to

something atrocious.

Still, someone has to do it, and anyone would feel overwhelmed in

such a role. I simply happened to be in the right place at the right time.

And since I’m a key part in the machinery of the global market, I’m

going to have to believe this is all correct. I can’t keep the world going

otherwise.

This leaves me with no choice but to put everything else on the

back burner. If I know anything about myself, it’s that even if I forget

to sleep, to eat, to shower, to flush the toilet, even forget my own

name, the lucidity I now possess will allow me to take on any financial

problem that presents itself. Therefore, just because I forgot about the

spare key does not mean I won’t be able to make the right decision to

save a financial institution on the brink of bankruptcy.

But just as that is true, so is this.

“So you’re okay with losing everything you have, in order to save the

world?”

So says Lisa, servant of the omnipotent, omniscient God. She’s

0 5 6


right. A mere mortal can’t hope to attain everything under the sun.

Life, indeed, is a process of choices. Of choosing what to give up.

“I...no, I...”

I try to say something, but the words don’t come out. I understand

what Lisa is trying to say, but my body simply won’t move. The storm is

still blowing all around us, and we’re all trying to hold up the great tree

before it tumbles over. Could I really allow myself to mosey on home?

Before I can express this, however, Lisa speaks.

“It’s not like you leaving will change much.”

“What?!”

I look up at Lisa in surprise and a touch of anger, but see her gently

smiling back at me.

“Or did you think you’d been achieving all of this all on your own?

Just think back to the floor you work on.”

“......”

I do as she suggests. The floor is staffed by plenty of personnel, who

are in turn supported by even more workers. Every single one of them

is excellent at their job and losing just as much sleep as I am.

“I mean, I know you don’t want to leave when things are really

rough, but part of the job is resting when you can. And haven’t I heard

that you’ve been rotating time off for the staff? As direct orders, too,

0 5 7


since no one’s eager to leave their position?”

She’s right. And Lisa’s not the type to say or do things without

thinking them over first. I just know she engineered the perfect timing

to show up today.

“Unfortunately, there’s no one in your office with the authority to

command you to take the day off...so that’s where I come in.”

Lisa shoots me a confident smirk, and I feel my shoulders slump. I

look down and scratch my head, then look back up at Lisa.

“Then what are you supposed to be to me, Lisa?”

There’s not even a speck of hesitation in her answer.

“Your strict and kind big sister.”

I figured she’d say that, though, really, I feel like she’s closer to a

second mother than a sister. Either way, she’s not someone I can refute,

so I’ll give her that.

“All right.”

I give up on that point, then continue.

“ Thanks, though. I was about to lose sight of what’s really

important.”

Lisa gifts me with an exasperated laugh and her agreement.

“Anyway, eat up, drink your coffee, take a shower, shave the beard,

brush your teeth, and get dressed. Your date, I’m afraid, is pretty upset.”

0 5 8


“Th-That bad?”

I look down at the key. The bronze cat looks indifferent. When I

look back at Lisa, she’s clearly angry this time.

“She’s been sitting on the sofa all day, biting her nails and staring at

her tablet. She’s supposed to live here, isn’t she? Look, I’m already up

to my eyeballs in people coming to the church for help. It would be

a different story if she had nowhere to stay, but she does have a place,

doesn’t she?”

Lisa put her hand on her hip and keeps the blows coming.

“Because she’s the person who means the most to you.”

Really, I deserve to be chewed out. The spare key in my hand...I had

it made for the other person who was supposed to live here. Still, I’ve

been so busy I barely get to come home. And even when I do, it’s just

to sleep, and even that’s three hours at best.

Sure, I feel guilty, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I also clearly

remember her saying that she’d go to Lisa’s place. If I’m just going to

leave her alone in this needlessly large maisonette condo, then of

course she’d be more at ease in the bustle of Lisa’s church.

I don’t even remember the last time we ate together. All I can

remember is how much fun it was.

I’ll do whatever it takes to patch things up between us.

0 5 9


“But...”

I stumble over my words as I fumble with a boiled egg. Lisa tilts her

head, still in a sour mood.

“What?”

It’s hard to admit...but in Lisa’s presence, I’ll always still be a teenager.

I take a deep breath and speak.

“Can you wait until I get ready?”

I’m too scared to go by myself. Lisa’s eyes go wide, then she gives me

a smile that takes up half of her face.

“There we go. I’ll be waiting out here, so go get yourself ready.”

“Hey... Thank you.”

When I say my thanks, Lisa crosses her arms and lets out a

melodramatic sigh. “Oh, men,” she goes. It hurts to hear, but I now

know what I need to do. It’s time to just do it.

“So, one slice of bread or two?”

I nearly say one, but decide on two. I’m going to need energy

for this. This person I’m about to go up against wouldn’t bat an eye

at dropping the moon into the Earth, after all. Before I get to my

breakfast, though, I take another look at the key.

Hagana is most definitely angry. I’ll have to be ready.

0 6 0


The apartment building housing Lisa’s church is now property of

the church itself. Wallace donated it, after gambling all of his assets on

the housing bubble bursting and barely winning out through short

selling. A gesture of appreciation for Lisa hearing him out and leading

him to the big decision, apparently. With a veteran investor as old as

Wallace worrying over something like a child, I can see why Lisa says

that men are boys all their lives.

Why am I thinking back on this? To pump myself up, in a way.

I’ve become the chairman of the Lunar Surface Central Bank, a

title that makes me blush with unworthiness to think of, and I rub

shoulders with the storied power players of Earth on a daily basis. Yet,

I’m overcome with nerves at the prospect of stepping through the

door to this church.

I’ve completely abandoned her for months now.

I’ve already experienced that, with the rage she’s built up over

eight years, she could destroy the Lunar Surface. With that in mind,

I can guess a few months' worth of anger is definitely going to be

noteworthy. Lisa notices how hesitant I am to open the door and

chuckles.

Still, when I realize that the longer I hesitate, the further I get from

Hagana, my mind is made up. And besides, opening the door gives me

0 6 1


a moment to appreciate the nostalgic air of the church. It brings me

back.

“...Wait, what? It’s really quiet here.”

The Lunar Surface is in the throes of chaos, in one of its worst

recessions. Many have lost their jobs, and no one is investing in the

housing market, so we have plenty of empty houses coexisting with

plenty of homeless people. I imagined a philanthropist like Lisa would

have lent out some of the apartments and therefore expected it to

be loud inside, but it’s even quieter than it was four years ago, when I

frequented the place.

“We moved the main church. Misa and the others have borrowed

the assembly room in another ward for it. Marco’s helping her. This

here is more like a manager’s office. Kind of reminds me of eight years

ago, you know. Being all alone with Hagana someplace quiet.”

“...Wait, where is Hagana, anyway?”

I haven’t prepared a rehearsed apology or any remorseful gifts. I

figure that little tricks like that will only make Hagana angrier, and I

want to apologize from the heart. I straighten my back, and Lisa gives

me a thumbs up and points down the hall. Telling me to go alone, I

imagine. Hell, she’s already forced herself into my house, made me take

the day off, and come with me all the way here. She’s done too much

0 6 2


already.

“I’ll be in the other ward. Go ahead, fight it out. Enjoy yourselves.”

She pats me on the shoulder and heads outside. It’s now or never.

I take a heav y step, and with that momentum, I keep going

down the hall. The room has completely changed from the church I

stumbled into eight years ago, yet I am visited by the strange sensation

of remembering how it was back then. Lisa’s lived her for so long, so

perhaps her aura has seeped into the walls. Maybe that’s the source.

But when I get out of the hall and into the living room, I realize

the truth. When people live in a place, they bring their aura to it. The

nostalgia isn’t coming from Lisa’s aura alone, but from Hagana’s scent.

Still, Hagana has changed quite a bit, herself. I thought that after

our eight-year reunion, and even though this time much less time has

passed, she’s changed just as much.

“......”

My first sight of her in months is a radiant one, bathed in the

morning sun. She has her tablet on the table, next to a cup of orange

juice. Her hair was as short as could be last time, but it has since grown

down to the middle of her neck.

I have to wonder if Lisa picked out her clothes. She’s clad in a thin

turtleneck sweater with jeans. Not womanly at all, but terribly sexy –

0 6 3


probably because of how much the clothes cling to her curves.

And probably because I’m that much in love with Hagana.

“H-Hey.”

Such are the first words of the chairman of the Lunar Surface

Central Bank, the Lunar Surface’s hero Hal.

I don’t even think. I simply open my mouth, and bam, I sound like a

teenager again. I almost can’t believe it.

Hagana looks up from her tablet to turn to me. Her face is as hard

to read as ever, but I can at least see she’s not angry. And that gives me

chills. It’s as if she doesn’t care. She isn’t even surprised at my sudden

appearance. If she had just yelled at me, I could have dealt with that and

gotten right to apologizing, but seeing her simply accept my presence

like this has me at a loss.

As I stand there like an idiot, Hagana lifts a well-shaped eyebrow

and gives me a suspicious look.

“Not going to sit?”

My stomach churns. It’s as if nothing at all has happened. Now, a

certain nun—a saint of Earth, apparently—once left behind a fearsome

quote.

The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference.

When you’re trading on the stock market, as well, what’s frightening

0 6 4


isn’t the price of the stock you just bought plummeting. It’s everyone

leaving the market. It’s not being able to buy or sell anymore.

“Uh...”

I figure I need to say something, but I find myself at a loss for

words. I learned that on the political stage, that the first person to

shut up loses, but I’m not on a rhetorical battleground right now. As

I desperately search for the words I want to share with Hagana, she

closes her tablet, puts it under her arm, and stands up.

“H-Hey, wait, where are you going?”

As I fumble out a question, she furrows her brow, as if to ask if it’s

any of my business.

“To see the realtor.”

The meaning of those words is completely lost on me.

“Lisa didn’t tell you?”

She didn’t!

My scream stays squarely within my lungs before going directly to

my brain, playing over and over again. She forced her spare key back

to me and is now going to the realtor’s. No matter how I spin it, she’s

clearly implying she’s moving out.

We haven’t even officially gotten married, so it isn’t like she’s moving

out of anything official, but I felt like we were. And that only enhances

0 6 5


the shock.

I’m aware of what I’ve done. I let myself get swept up in how busy

I was. I’m the one who abandoned her. And yet, here she’s laying her

cards on the table, and that can only mean one thing: she wants to

negotiate. If she’d really had it with me, Hagana would have left without

a word.

This is something I know from experience.

As I desperately try to suppress how shaken I am, I speak.

“N-No, she...she didn’t.”

I obviously can’t say I’m hiding my shock terribly well, but I at least

avoid the sin of keeping quiet.

“B-But, Hagana... It was all my fault.”

I manage to say it.

“I’m the one at fault here, and I apologize for that. I know it’s too

late, and I admit that I only came to my senses when Lisa brought it up

to me. But, I genuinely am sorry, so...”

“...?”

Hagana gives me a surprised frown, shutting down my barrage of

words. No matter what brutal thing she says, I’m going to take it. I’m

ready for it. Lay it on me.

“What are you talking about?”

0 6 6


“Urgh!”

Those words stack right into me. If you’re desperately apologizing

to someone, and they disinterestedly say you have nothing to apologize

for, that’s when it’s all over. I’m about to cry without an ounce of shame.

Right when I’m about to pray for Lisa’s help...

“Oh, and Hal. About the spare key.”

I waste no time in jumping on the topic, thinking this my opening

to apologize.

“Oh, uh, about that—”

“Give it to me.”

She holds out her hand to accompany her cold words. I look from

her hand to her face before freezing up. What is she getting at? I can’t

read her face, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking in the least.

“Lisa didn’t give it to you?”

When she suspiciously pries, I quickly pull it out of my pocket and

hand it to her. When it reaches her palm, she touches the bronze cat

keychain, the symbol of the financial center of the Lunar Surface...and

pops it off.

“I forgot to take this off.”

The object, now a mere key, is thrust back to me. I wordlessly take it

in shock.

0 6 7


Is she really that angry?

I feel like I could faint right then and there, but I desperately keep

myself upright. There are no guarantees in life, and I finally realize my

foolishness in thinking, hey, she waited eight years to see me, what’s

another couple of months?

And thinking that with Lisa mediating, we could make up, easily.

But that’s how humans are. Their relationships break, easily.

I look at Hagana with held breath, ready to suffocate over how

foolish I’ve been.

Hagana looks down at the bronze cat keychain, smiles a bit, then

reaches out to the cup on the table and drinks down the rest of her

orange juice. You know, since she’s been eating well and dressing herself

well under Lisa’s care, she looks like she’s actually gotten a lot healthier.

As if she’d gone and become an adult on her own, leaving me behind.

“Phew.”

Finishing up with a tiny sigh, Hagana starts to leave the living room,

tablet still under her arm. Now, this has all happened before. Hagana

was moving past me, about to disappear from my life forever, when I

grabbed her shoulder.

Yeah, that’s right.

I made up for my mistake back then, didn’t I? Why can’t I do it

0 6 8


again?

As Hagana passes by me, I turn to face her, but since she also turns

around to face me at the same moment, we nearly crash into each

other. I scramble to pull back, but lose my balance and fall on my rear.

Hagana looks at me gives me a surprised look before her eyes twist in

empathetic pain when I collide with the floor.

“...You all right?”

Hearing that, I only grow more confused.

Don’t act all polite. Quit pretending you’re not mad at me, come

on. I’d rather you just hit me, just yell at me.

I’m ready to just burst into tears as I look up at her.

“Hagana.”

I speak her name, and without an ounce of shame or pride, I say it.

“Please, don’t go.”

A desperate plea from the heart. Her eyes go wide, and she just

stares down at me.

There you go. That’s it, look at me. Sure, I get distracted and lose

sight of what’s really important, but I’m always willing to correct my

missteps, and I think I have the courage to do it, too.

So, please. Don’t go.

I risk my everything in those words.

0 6 9


Hagana, however, just stares at me for a while before replying.

“But...I’ve already called the realtor.”

The fact that she won’t expend the effort to cancel the appointment

suffocates me. The energy leaves my legs, and just when I’m about to

faint...

“Hey, Hal...you’re acting really weird.”

“Huh?”

“Are you busy after all?”

“Whuh?”

I stop myself from falling over to take another look at Hagana. She

seems worried.

“Lisa said it would probably be fine... But if we postpone, someone

else might buy it.”

“She what?”

“But I figured I shouldn’t decide this on my own, so I talked with

Lisa about bringing you along...”

“You what??”

“But, if you’re not feeling well, I understand. Go ahead and rest. I’ll

get you in a call on your tablet and send you video of the place, so we

can still—”

“H-Hold on a second.”

0 7 0


“What?”

I cannot comprehend a word Hagana is saying.

Something, however, dawns on me.

Perhaps Hagana is, in reality, not angry with me at all.

“C-Can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

Hagana prompts me along, her face as neutral as ever. She stares at

me with those big, black pupils, like an innocent kitten’s.

I gulp, and then speak.

“You’re not...angry?”

“Angry?”

Hagana furrows her brow and actually looks angry for the first time,

but then averts her eyes in thought and tilts her head.

“I wouldn’t say angry, no... Oh.”

She gives me a bit of an embarrassed look.

“The orange juice was a little sour. Because it was real juice from

actual oranges...but I’m not mad.”

She rubs her face a tad.

“People who come to the church keep thinking I’m angry, so I’m

really trying to work on that, but...it’s not something I can stop in a

day.”

0 7 1


She tries to force herself to smile. The result is twisted.

Her eyes aren’t smiling, so hers looks like the face of a cruel dictator,

ready to erase someone. However, her twisted smile soon vanishes,

giving way to a serious expression.

“Anyway, I’m not angry. Why would I be?”

It was a genuine question, without a hint of rhetoric.

It feels like a shell that had been covering me from head to toe

suddenly shatters.

The shell was probably my presumptions. And now, naked before

her, I speak my foolishness.

“...B-Because, I left you alone for so long.”

“Huh?”

Hagana tilts her head from side to side, looking as surprised as can

be.

“Well, obviously. You’ve been busy with work.”

Hearing the very first excuse I would come up with, not to mention

the lamest possible one, come out of Hagana’s mouth sounds more

like a mockery than anything else. Yet I can tell she’s serious.

“B-But.”

But this time, I’m the one who needs to ask questions.

Why? Why isn’t Hagana angry?

0 7 2


“The spare key, you...no, even before that.”

I lay my mistakes on the table.

“The reason you left the condo and came here, wasn’t that...?”

“Because I thought it would be better not to see you.”

“...!”

As I gasp, Hagana motions to open her tablet, but quickly rethinks

it.

“That’s another story in itself. I want to go over it, but it’ll take a

while.”

“Uh...huh?”

Hagana’s far too lucid in all of this. Her clear conclusion, too,

looks like an incomprehensible riddle from the outside. All of this

compounds with the fact that she apparently isn’t angry to bring my

ability to think plummeting into the depths. I can’t keep up with this

conversation at all.

Still, Hagana doesn’t seem too concerned.

“Anyway, I’ve got that appointment with the realtor waiting, and I

want you to come with me.”

She looks at me with embarrassed, hopeful eyes.

“Because, well...it’s going to be our house.”

A hue of worry reaches into her beautiful black eyes.

0 7 3


“Too busy?”

“Not at all!”

I give a strong answer and pull myself up, riding the momentum of

my words.

Hagana shrinks back a step, but I can’t let myself worry about that.

“It’s fine! I’ve already asked for time off!”

Hagana had looked as surprised as ever, but she gradually looks less

nervous at my reassuring words.

“I’m glad.”

This culminates in a soft smile. It’s the sort of smile that makes you

think nothing else really matters. Sure, Hagana’s awkward, and the

looks she gives and things she does lead to misunderstandings here and

there, but I don’t think she needs to “fix” those things. If I’m the only

one who gets to see this smile, how can this be wrong?

Hagana takes a look at the slender watch on her left wrist—Lisa’s

taste, I’m guessing—and loses her smile.

“We’re going to be late.”

“Let’s hurry, then.”

If Hagana isn’t angry, I don’t care about anything else. I reverently

escort her down the hallway, and though I’m smiling, I groan internally.

Lisa absolutely kept me in the dark on purpose. As someone who was

0 7 4


scared out of his wits, I can feel a resentful word or two bubbling up.

Still, her warning to not leave Hagana isolated was absolutely correct,

so I know I can’t complain in the least.

And really, I’m blessed to have someone who’ll push me like that.

“What?”

When we get out of the church and walk down the hall, Hagana

turns back to me, seeming curious. I shake my head to take attention

off of the question and respond.

“I was just thinking how good you look with that hair and outfit.”

“...”

Hagana’s face remains neutral but flushes red, and she looks away.

I spent thirty billion mools for Hagana, and I think it was a steal. I

gently hold her hand, and she squeezes it without looking at me.

We get on the train and arrive in town to be greeted with regular

life on the Lunar Surface.

Inside the government office, I see chaos. Interest rates plummeting

into the red zone, masses of refugees retreating to Earth, and a financial

crisis the likes of which the Lunar City has never seen. I believe the

Lunar Surface is in an unprecedented crisis, and I don’t doubt it for a

second.

0 7 5


But when I get out into town, I see plenty of people still around.

They’re running shops, and working their jobs.

It’s enough to make you believe the crisis isn’t happening.

Now, much like thinking you understand the world’s entirety just

by looking at the numbers is foolhardy, believing you can grasp the

truth simply by wandering around town is a ridiculous proposition.

Still, it feels like it’s been a while since I’ve been in contact with a truth I

can see, that I can touch.

To see the world I’ve sworn to protect.

I stand next to Hagana by the door as we quietly watch the world

go by. As I gaze at her face in profile, she glances back at me, purses her

lips a bit, and looks back at the scenery.

I figure she’ll get actually angry with me if I keep staring, so I look

out into the distance, too.

Outside, there are plenty of people living out their days. Living out

their lives.

I can still do this.

“So, where are we going?”

When we get to the last stop, my sentimentalism gives way to

curiosity.

The Lunar City is constructed in circular layers, with the rich

0 7 6


financial district of Newton City in the middle. The further out you

go from the center, the more land prices fall. Thanks to the rising

land prices from the bubble, however, the land has been redeveloped,

leaving a few areas quite impressive. Even the last stop is named after

some park I’ve never heard of, and the station itself is well put-together.

“Over here.”

Hagana, however, does not respond. She’s in call mode on her

tablet, contacting the realtor. I look around the station, remembering

that this used to be one of the outer sectors, a place where the poor

gathered. I can’t believe how beautifully it’s been remade.

As I stare, however, a middle-aged man with a bag comes running

towards us.

“Greetings! My apologies for the wait. I was at the opposite exit.”

“You’re still on time. Now, the property?”

Even though I’m sure he heard Hagana, the realtor’s eyes are

elsewhere. On me.

“Yes?”

I make myself smile as I inquire, and he quickly shakes his head, as if

returning to his senses.

“Please take us to the property.”

Hagana speaks up again and he stumbles through a reply. Of

0 7 7


course, he says. Right this way. He starts taking us where we need to go,

but keeps shooting glances at me throughout.

I’ve been on TV a lot, so I’m sure he recognizes my face. Still, I don’t

have any reason to reveal my identity, so I pretend not to notice.

“I have to say, you’ve quite the discerning eye, making a purchase

with all that’s going on!”

The man speaks in an old-fashioned way that reminds me of

Toyama, the man who lent money to Lisa eight years ago.

“As I’m sure you already know, land prices continue to fall, and

plenty of properties remain undervalued. On the other hand, however,

investments are beginning to return from earth—people are electing

to take advantage of the bottomed-out prices.”

Now that I’ve heard.

Speculation has it that the real estate market may bottom out

early, then spin back up. The bomb Hagana and Barton laid failed to

detonate, and the Lunar Surface didn’t collapse. The Lunar Surface’s

denizens made no motion to abandon ship, and plenty decided

that this was their home, that they would stay. And plenty of others

believed that if enough people stayed, the Lunar Surface would be

back in action.

I’ve even heard from Eleanor that Marco, now running Schweitzer

0 7 8


Investments, is investing in real estate as well. The reason I haven’t

heard from him directly is that, if I spoke with him in my position, I’d

confer suspicion of insider trading onto him. The interest rates and

financial support I decide greatly affect the market, after all.

Leaving the government office and coming back to reality makes

me realize just how fearsome a thing authority is.

“They used to call this place the Outer Block, back in the old days,

but you would hardly recognize it now, with how beautiful it’s become!

It was developed to be something of a resort area, so it’s rather quiet

around here.”

True, the buildings around aren’t terribly tall. Compared to Newton

City, where it feels like the sky slips through the cracks between

skyscrapers, the blue heavens seem immense.

“The property you’re after is quite an impressive piece, as well. It was

the atelier and residence of a famous jeweler, and it’s the perfect size for

two people.”

Hagana takes a moment to look at me and smile a little.

That’s all it takes to make me happy, but I’m worried about

something. Moving this far from the center is going to make getting to

work rough. Or maybe she’s just assuming that I won’t be able to come

home when things are busy in the first place.

0 7 9


Then, as we turn a corner...

“It’s right over there. The place has a bit of a strange history behind

it, having been rebuilt in different locations twice before coming right

back to where it started, but that simply goes to show how special it is.

It has been well cared-for, of course, and you’ll find little to criticize in

its appearance. And most of all, it matches the scenery quite well, does

it not? The previous owner who moved it back here must have had

quite the artistic sense.”

The realtor goes on eagerly about the property, but I just stand still.

“This is...”

As I stare in awe, Hagana gives me a sly look.

“I found out online that it had been rebuilt somewhere, and when I

looked in deeper, I found that it had come back. That’s when I decided

I’d buy it when it became available, no matter what.”

With that, Hagana goes with the realtor and has him unlock the

door. I just watch her, unsure of what to do. Should I laugh? Possibly,

but I also want to cry. To revel in this pain, to mull over the searing in

my chest.

Because the time I spent right here had such an immense meaning

to my life. It’s what started everything.

“Er, shall we go in, then?”

0 8 0


The realtor says that to Hagana, and she steps halfway in before

looking at me from the door’s shadow. She shoots me a childish look,

as if pleased to have pulled off her surprise. She...she really found a

wonderful property.

None other than the very church Lisa built eight years ago.

“Hal!”

She urges me to hurry, still with that childish face.

The realtor is stunned to hear my name, but I don’t mind. Here,

I’m nobody but Hal. I step through the door for the first time in eight

years and let out a resigned smile.

“I’m home.”

It’s changed here and there, but it really is the same place.

Much like the two of us.

What was previously the church area is now the exhibition room

and workspace. I can tell that the place wasn’t just abandoned because

the area has been properly tidied up, with sheets cast over the furniture

to keep dust away. The shelves are still sitting in the exhibition room,

but I imagine that’s because it would have cost too much time and

money to break them down. The workspace lacks any finer tools, but

it still looks ready to house a goldsmith, tapping away with his tiny

0 8 1


hammer.

The living space has changed quite a bit, looking like a messy

workshop.

“Now, this is where he made the alloys he worked with, and did

his grinding and welding. This huge vacuum-looking thing that’s

big enough to suck up a person...it’s used to suck up the evaporated

mercury and recover it when gilding. Oh, no trace heavy metals have

been found. The Lunar Surface’s environmental regulations are rather

strict, you see.”

The realtor explains while looking through the data on his tablet.

“So, that’s the living space.”

Not even listening to the realtor’s explanation, Hagana wastes no

time in heading towards our room. She turns back to look at me, so I

hurry on after her.

“The first floor is where his apprentice lived, while the second floor

housed his bed room. The third floor is where you’ll find his private

garden, the sort of thing you’d be hard-pressed to find in the Lunar

Ci—”

I don’t listen at all to the realtor’s fluid explanation. When we get

out into the hall, with the two rooms side by side, Hagana freezes up.

She makes no motion to step forward. It isn’t because she’s afraid or

0 8 2


nervous. I step up beside her and see her eyelashes quivering, her eyes

closed. Her chest is puffed up, as if she’s taken a deep breath from an

oxygen tank.

“Just like eight years ago.”

She whispers.

“...which makes it quite the bargain, I’d say, but it may run you

a touch in the way of renovation expenses. Still, plenty of interior

decorators are finding themselves with open schedules nowadays, so

I will take the liberty of introducing you to some wondrous names in

the business. Now, the price, including said introduction, should come

to—”

“We’re buying.”

“As you can see here—Hm?”

“We’re buying.”

Hearing that from Hagana, as someone without much in the way

of desire and prefers to hold onto whatever money she gets, is a rarity.

That’s what gives the words their force. Their pull.

“Oh, er...c-certainly. But, well, there are a few estimates to be made,

the final—”

“I don’t care how much it costs.”

I’ve never seen this kind of look of pride on Hagana’s face before.

0 8 3


“This is why I stayed at Lisa’s for so long.”

She looks at me as she says this.

According to Lisa, she’d been biting her nails and staring at her

tablet on the sofa. Now I see what she meant.

“That’s why I thought it would be better to not be at your place.”

She didn’t want the fear of insider trading to hang over her head

while investing. I’d thought negatively of her moving to Lisa’s church

solely out of my own guilt.

I let out a self-deprecating sigh and stroke Hagana’s right cheek

with my thumb.

“Make too much money and you’ll piss off Lisa.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll only make enough to live off of after this.”

“...Hey, you could at least rely on what I’m making for that.”

She narrows an eye, like my thumb on her cheek is ticklish, before

giving me a cattish smile.

“But.”

Her expression clouds up, and she’s about to say something, but the

realtor interrupts.

“Well then, with all associated fees included, the total comes to

2,700,000 mools. May I have your signature?”

I turn around to see the realtor’s eyes sparkling as he holds out his

0 8 4


terminal and tablet. With land prices plummeting, being able to sell a

property and get most of the money up front must be a critical lifeline

to him. And the price he’s asking for is one I could never imagine Lisa’s

old church going for.

Hagana immediately takes the terminal with the price on it and

signs her name.

“Thank you for your patronage! So, then, how will you be paying? I

can introduce a bank that has an excellent financing program—”

“Cash.”

Hearing Hagana’s immediate response, the realtor takes a glance at

me. All I can do is shrug.

“Ah, thank you very much. If you ever need another property...”

“This’ll be the last.”

Hagana shoots it down.

“This is all I need.”

I nearly burst out laughing at how stunned the realtor looks, but

there’s a different reason to my potential chuckle, as well. You can

count the number of things dear to Hagana on one hand. Maybe it’s no

wonder she doesn’t want to add even further to that number, knowing

that I’m now counted among them.

“Oh...r-right, then.”

0 8 5


The realtor mumbles to himself, humbled.

“When can we move in?”

Hagana asks.

“Ah, I have the key on me, so...hmm, well, I could hand it over to you

now.”

There must be all sorts of paper work regarding the deed and

transfer of ownership, but I imagine the immense housing bubble is

allowing those sorts of formalities to fall by the wayside.

“I’ll take it, then. I’ll deposit the money later.”

Hagana is, of course, no stickler for formalities herself.

“I’ll email you the paperwork later, then, so do take care to look

everything over.”

With that, the realtor respectfully bows his head and leaves.

Once he closes the door, the room gets incredibly quiet.

The silence is much like it was eight years ago, but still, different.

But we don’t want to return to the past. We’re here to start a new

life.

“Hey, Hagana.”

“...?”

Hagana stops from opening the doors to our old rooms and turns

to me in the hallway.

0 8 6


“Have you told Lisa?”

Hagana puts on another sly smile. Apparently, she wants to surprise

her.

“Brilliant idea.”

That draws a pleased look from her.

“I’ll check out the second floor.”

With that, she goes up the steep staircase.

After I watch her go, I stand in the entrance to my old room. Seeing

it looking exactly like it did eight years ago, simple furnishings and all,

makes me somewhat dizzy. It was meant to be an artist’s apprentice’s

room, so it’s probably humble on purpose. Either way, I was a youth

chasing a goal he believed in when I last lived here. I even had a teacher,

Lisa. Perhaps you could include Barton in there, too.

I step into the room and sit down on the freshly-cleaned sheets. I

can almost hear Lisa’s voice, or Chris coming to deliver something.

I close my eyes, open my ears, and really feel like I hear them. Such

nostalgic, dusty-smelling memories. I don’t want to go back to those

days, but I do want to treasure them.

As I remember all sorts of things, one memory stands out. The

time Lisa let me put my head on her lap. I realize now, with a grimace,

that she let me do it because I was a child. I can almost remember how

0 8 7


it felt—not merely soft, but just the right firmness, and the human

warmth. Being almost overbearingly kind as she is, I remember her

even stroking my head, too. I fade into my memories, letting the

feelings come back to life.

The feeling of her thighs under my head, and her hand on my

forehead.

Yet, it’s strange. Was Lisa’s hand this small? Right as I smile to myself

about that...

“What?!”

I open my eyes, sensing something strange, and I see Hagana

looking surprised.

“H-Hagana?”

“...Are you all right?”

She looks down at me with a worried expression.

“You gave me a scare, passing out like that.”

Closing my eyes must have made me lose consciousness before I

even realized I was drowsy.

“But, well...you looked like you were sleeping so well, so...”

She must have just left me there to my dreams.

“Yeah... I’m...fine. Just running low on sleep.”

I move my head around a bit and notice that I’m lying on something

0 8 8


soft and warm.

Hagana’s lap.

“I can tell you’re running low on sleep. You look awful.”

“Huh, that bad?”

“Yeah. I was worried about bringing you along, but Lisa told me you

should definitely be there to decide on our new home.”

True, I should prize Hagana’s feelings over my health. Lisa made a

good call there. If Hagana had come here alone and I’d learned about it

later, I would have really regretted it.

This is where Hagana and I met. I don’t want her to be here alone,

and I don’t want to be here alone, either.

“But if you’ve got the time, I think you should just keep sleeping like

this.”

I feel like there’s a little bit of force in the “like this” part.

Or perhaps that’s just my guilt talking.

In my dreams, it was Lisa’s lap I was sleeping on. I feel like she’s

walked in on me cheating, but I decide to keep that inside. Hagana’s

the only one I love, but Lisa’s special to me in her own way.

“...I appreciate that, but aren’t your legs going numb?”

“......”

Hagana stares down at me, lips pursed.

0 8 9


“A little.”

“Then—”

“No.”

Hagana stops me from moving with her hand. She has me virtually

pinned.

“Lisa told me you disappear easily, so I have to hold you down.”

Lisa definitely would say that. And she’s not wrong.

“But...you’re the one who disappeared.”

I say that without thinking. It doesn't occur to me that it might hurt

Hagana, or that I’m the reason she disappeared in the first place.

I just want to mess with her, to play around. That childish thought

animates me.

“But...”

She makes a frown, then smacks my forehead with her palm.

“That was your fault.”

And she’s right.

So I respond.

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Then stay like this.”

She leaves no room for objection.

“Isn’t it normally the opposite?”

0 9 0


“Opposite?”

“Like, isn’t the guy usually the one to put in requests for stuff like

this?”

Hagana looks a little surprised before smiling warmly.

“You don’t understand a thing, Hal.”

She looks like she’s enjoying herself, with a smile like the one she

made the first time a stock deal went well.

“Lisa really was right.”

“...What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Lisa taught me lots of ways to stop you from escaping.”

“......”

I give her a look of clear disapproval, but that just makes her look

happier. Lisa’s sort of like my older sister, but, in the end, she’ll always

side with her girlfriends. Hagana seems to pick up on my resignation,

with a smile that looks just like Lisa’s.

“So, what tips did Lisa share?”

“I’m keeping those secret. The first thing she told me was not to

show my hand.”

“...She’s right about that. Man, she should’ve been the investor.”

Hagana nods in agreement, then runs her slender fingers through

my hair. It’s a strange sensation, having someone play with your hair.

0 9 1


It’s the most normal thing imaginable at the barber’s, but here, it feels

delightfully immoral.

“There is one thing I can say.”

“Hm? Wh-What?”

I nearly doze off while she combs my hair. Lisa’s food must have

contributed to my drowsiness. It was good, and it had been so long

since I’d had her cooking.

“...You really should sleep, I think.”

“Well, you’ve got to tell me what you wanted to say first. Can’t sleep

otherwise.”

I sure am putting on a tough act, considering I can’t open my eyes.

“...Lisa told me that if I want to hold you down, I need bait.”

“Pfft, what?”

I laugh as I open my eyes to see her smiling a bit, too.

“She said you’re kind of like a tuna. If you’re not chasing your dream,

you’ll shrivel up and die.”

They do say tuna need to keep swimming, or else they’ll die. I’ve

seen a few in an aquarium on the Lunar Surface, but I still don’t believe

it. I remember thinking that as I watched the silver, bullet-like fish

swimming—that I don’t believe it, but I do understand the feeling.

“...Not exactly wrong, but not exactly right.”

0 9 2


“I think it’s right.”

She says that with such conviction, there’s no way I can refute her.

“Well, let’s say it is right. So, what is this bait you’re going to dangle

in front of me?”

I worry that she’ll answer at all, and I worry what her answer will be.

Still, I need to know. This is the woman who once claimed there wasn’t

a single good thing on the Lunar Surface as she plotted something

utterly ridiculous.

Her eyes are always on the future, and I want to know what she sees.

“It’s that thing I mentioned earlier.”

Worry comes over her face.

“It’ll take a little while to explain...and it might get in the way of your

work.”

“Get in the way of work?”

I pry open my shutting eyes to see a touch of pain in her eyes.

“There’s another reason I moved to Lisa’s church.”

“...”

I rub my eyes to wake myself up a little.

“What was it?”

“So, you know how I said the biggest reason was because I wanted

to avoid insider trading?”

0 9 3


Hagana has been investing to raise the money to buy this house,

I’m guessing. I’m about to say that I have enough in Schweitzer

Investments, if she’d just asked, but I then remember I’ve given all of

my share to the Lunar Surface Government.

I’m no longer a rich investor, but a humble salaried worker.

“But there’s a specific reason I made that decision.”

“I’m drawing a blank.”

She nods.

“I was surprised, myself. But I came across something that had to be

insider trading, no doubt about it.”

“What?”

I try to sit up, but Hagana pushes me back down.

That surprises me, but it looks like Hagana is surprised, herself.

After pushing me down, she pulls her hands back, as if I were a hot

stove. We stare at each other wordlessly for a time, but I let out a small

smile. She averts her eyes as her cheeks go red. With that, I relax a little

and let myself lean on Hagana’s lap. I’ll indulge in her offer.

Hagana’s words, however, are heavy. The financial market is still

in flux. No one knows what’s going to happen, and the government’s

actions are going to influence investors all over the world. The ability

to know the government’s next decision could make someone an

0 9 4


immense sum of money.

Do I think there are people like that on the Lunar Surface? Tons.

But I don’t want to think there are people like that among my own

staff. I want to believe everyone’s working too hard to have time to

think of subterfuge.

“Well...you mean, you have some evidence?”

“It’s more like...well, no, it probably is evidence.”

“What kind?”

After I ask that, Hagana takes a deep breath before replying.

“There was a phone call at the church. Lisa answered it.”

“A phone call?”

“Yeah. An invitation to invest. Nothing strange, she gets those a lot.”

“ Well, the investors have al l vanished from the market, so

companies have to pay their employees somehow. What then?”

“Mm, well, she normally just hangs up, but she remembers it being

a bizarre offer. They said they’d predict what would happen in the

market, and to invest if she believed them.”

Clearly suspicious, but then Hagana’s the type who wouldn’t believe

in ghosts if she saw one.

“I didn’t believe it when Lisa told me, but she thought it was really

odd. See, she said they’d made the right prediction four times in a row.”

0 9 5


“Give me the details.”

My mind instantly shifts into work mode.

“So, the investment company on the phone said they’d predict

whether the market would be up or down in two days. When they got

it right four times in a row, Lisa contacted me, saying there might be

some foul play going on.”

I assume she didn’t call me because she knew how busy I was at the

time, as well as knowing that becoming suspicious of someone close

to me would get in the way of my work. I have to commend Lisa for

bringing it to Hagana instead.

“I had a feeling that was the case, too. I’d started investing again

when Lisa suggested it, but the market is in such tatters there’s no way

anyone could predict it right now. Short-term predictions are possible,

but only when the market is stable.”

The perfect financial storm knocked everything over.

“The calls kept coming, though, and they ended up making the

right call seven times in a row. They said that the eighth time would be

the last, and if they got it right, to invest in them.”

I keep quiet and listen. Hagana squeezes out the rest.

“Lisa said that, if this was the real deal...she wouldn’t mind investing

in them.”

0 9 6


“Because there’s a lot of people in need, I’m guessing.”

Lisa’s not the type to be interested in money for her own sake, but

she knows how much it can help people. In a time where so many have

lost their jobs, you can never have enough capital on hand.

“But still, she thinks there’s something wrong going on. It says in the

Bible that fortune-telling is evil, after all, and she seems to be thinking

there’s some kind of trick.”

“Investments that don’t predict the future all make profit off of

system errors.”

Arbitrage, a practice that takes advantage of the price difference

between markets, is the greatest example of that. The same product

being traded at the same time for different prices is an example of the

system’s weakness. It’s something that can be improved on. Now, that

isn’t a bad thing, and it does contribute to the market.

But that isn’t prediction. It’s just labor that takes elbow grease. Brain

elbow grease. Not the sort of thing to get excited about.

Insider trading is like that, too. Ideally, all information about the

market is available to all players evenly. Insiders, however, are evidence

that the system hasn’t caught up to its ideals yet.

“So, she suspected there might be an insider around me?”

“She didn’t say that, but...I thought that if I started investing and

0 9 7


did well, people might think I was an insider. Since I was immediately

suspicious of that, myself.”

“I see.”

Hagana plays by the book.

Barton seems slightly more suspect, but he’s been busy with his own

work lately, and he isn’t the type to go after small change. If he makes

use of insider information, it’s going to be when he takes over Mars or

Jupiter.

“So, you were working on that mystery?”

“It isn’t a mystery.”

She says that with a straight face.

“Someone’s up to no good in the place you’re trying to protect. I just

can’t let that slide. And I don’t think you can, either.”

I feel a little embarrassed at how serious she’s being.

I am working to protect the Lunar Surface, it’s true, but that’s more

of my motivation. I don’t know how effective I actually am. I’m sure

there are those who suffer from my choices, and those who find them

illogical.

Hagana, however, doesn’t seem to mind.

“That’s why I want to find the bad guy behind this with you, Hal.

Like before.”

0 9 8


When I hear that, I’m finally the one to avert my eyes.

The ceiling looks both familiar and not at the same time.

It’s not like we’ve gone back eight years ago in time, nor that we

want to.

I figure that Hagana isn’t so much stuck on her indignation as

much as wanting to share a goal with me. While I’m happy to see that,

I realize that leaving her on her own is what led her to think that way.

After taking the time to regret my actions, I speak.

“Hagana, that isn’t actually a mystery at all.”

“What?”

She blinks in surprise before replying.

“But, they got it right seven times in a row. Not even my prediction

program could do that, not even with twenty thousand recalculations.”

So that’s what made her think that someone was working with

insider information. This is the problem with being too smart.

“They’re clearly a group of scammers. Lisa puts a single mool into

their bank account, and I guarantee they never call again.”

Hagana gasps and nearly gets up, before remembering my head is

on her lap.

“And this isn’t an insider issue. They don’t know anything.”

“But—”

0 9 9


“What, you think they were predicting the future?”

She nods to my question like a child.

Very skeptical, and yet very credulous. I wonder if I’m the only one

who thinks there couldn’t be a cuter combination of traits revealed in

one person.

“All they’ve got, at most, is two things.”

“Two things?”

“A piece of paper with a minimum of 128 phone numbers, and a

phone.”

“......”

Hagana furrows her brow, letting me know she has no idea what I’m

getting at. If someone could truly predict the motions of the market

seven or eight times in a row, whether it were to go up or down, they

could make a huge amount of money. And if someone were actually

doing that, they’d have to have something huge up their sleeve.

Normally, that would be the logical answer.

But the world’s a lot simpler than that.

“They just need to divide the 128 phone numbers into two groups.”

When I say that, Hagana audibly gasps.

“You...can’t be serious...”

“Oh, I am.”

1 0 0


A miracle is when something that would practically never happen

through fortune alone either happens by chance, or is brought about

through brute force. This case is the latter.

“There are only two options: the market goes up, or it goes down.

These people continuously call half of the 128 people with predictions

it’s up, and half that it’s down. With 128 people, after seven rounds of

calls, they’ll have gone through all possible permutations of market

trends, one of which will have had a streak of seven correct predictions.

And the reason they always give two days’ notice is probably because

that’s how much time it takes to call the entire group of victims.”

Hagana’s mouth is agape. It’s such a simple scheme that she hadn’t

even thought of it.

“A classic scam.”

When I say that, Hagana’s exasperation gradually turns to

disappointment. After all, she’d been hoping that we could go on a

detective adventure together, but now I’ve solved the whole thing in

one go. Which means that Hagana will be home alone again. But I

don’t want her in Lisa’s care anymore. I don’t need my surrogate big

sister to push me along anymore, so I take Hagana’s hand.

She looks at me with lonely eyes, and I smile.

“Hagana, I’m going to be busy for a while.”

1 0 1


“...I know.”

“But we’re getting through this storm. And that’s not because of my

talents, either. It’s because of the passion and skill of the others working

with me, and most of all, because the people of the Lunar Surface want

it to happen.”

“Yeah.”

“And I don’t think the end will be that far off. I know I’ll end up

leaving you on your own too often until then, but...”

I wanted to say this with a cooler set-up, and a more impressive

atmosphere...but much like I’m always a kid when I’m with Lisa, I can’t

suddenly turn into an adult when I’m with Hagana.

So, I say it from Hagana’s lap.

“I want us to see the same future, and head toward it together. If

there are 128 possible futures, I want to call them all on the phone

and choose the happiest one. At the very least, I know that I’ve sifted

through possibilities, made choices, and stumbled to where I am now

mostly by coincidence, but I’m tired of being alone.”

“Y-Yeah...?”

Hagana whispers a response as she stares down at me.

I’m sure she’s holding back her tears with a smile because investors

pride themselves on being able to predict the future.

1 0 2


“Hagana.”

“Yes, Hal?”

I squeeze her hand.

Just like I did eight years ago.

No, even stronger than I did back then.

“Will you marry me?”

I don’t get an immediate answer.

Because Hagana is wiping her eyes.

“Yes, I will.”

I bet Lisa would be mad if I were to tell her I feel relieved to hear

that answer.

But, I really am relieved. When investing, no matter how sure you

are, you can’t be certain until the results come up.

And like an investor wanting to secure his profits, I reach up to

Hagana’s face and stroke her cheek.

“I think this is the start of something beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

With tears in her eyes, Hagana strokes my opposite cheek.

“I want to spend my life with you, too, Hal.”

Instead of answering, I wrench myself up and hold her shoulders

tight. Lying back on the bed, Hagana’s surprised, but she starts to

1 0 3


giggle in embarrassment in my arms.

“Hal.”

“Hm?”

Right next to me, Hagana speaks like a teenager.

“Keep this a secret from Lisa?”

I hug her delicate body and chuckle.

Like that, a day of the Lunar Surface’s chaos ends as it takes another

step towards a new era.

1 0 4




C O M P U N DI N T E R E S T

I wake up to beams of morning sun peeking through the curtains.

Weather on the Lunar Surface is all pre-programmed, so you’re never

going to wake up to a headache-inducing rainstorm. I yawn and take a

look at the clock by my bed. Five minutes until the alarm.

I’ve been waking up before my alarm for a few months, but that

doesn’t mean I’ve stopped setting it. I need a line of defense against

possible oversleeping, true, but it also serves another purpose.

Five minutes left. I change my position. Hagana’s right next to me,

softly snoring away. She’ll wake up before the alarm rings sometimes,

too, or sometimes nod off again after waking. Sometimes, she’ll even

just pretend to be asleep. Especially if we fought over something trivial

the previous night. Although, she’ll usually turn her back to me if she’s

cross like that, so it’s easy to tell.

We didn't fight or anything last night. The two of us fell asleep while

having a conversation about nothing. I have an eight-year blank in

our relationship, and I want to make up for it by being by her side. If I

were willing to really go all out, I’d have to quit my job right now and

start making up for it 24 hours a day, but I’ve taken the next best step.

Whenever I get home from work, I spend most of my time with her.

The eight-year gap has not made her more talkative, however, and

I don’t bombard her with conversation. I also often have work to do

1 0 6


at home, work I need her help with. In exchange, she stays next to me

and puts her forehead on my shoulder, or her cheek or her chin, as if

claiming her territory.

And if I dare a counterattack, the battle only intensifies. A strategic

retreat is on the table, of course, but there’s nowhere to run away to on

the moon. Our skirmishes become total war in the blink of an eye.

I remember how we fell asleep during our negotiations after the war

last night. If only, I always find myself thinking, we were not bound by

time.

Hagana’s hair has gotten longer, much more so than it was after our

reunion, but not as long as it had been. Black as space itself, it stands

out frightfully on her white pillow. Though I fear that its void will

claim my fingers should I touch it, I reach out to stroke it. I know I can

toy with the strands on her cheek for hours.

Hagana is not a morning person by any stretch, but having her hair

toyed with is enough to wake even her. She slowly opens her eyes and

buries her face in my chest, like a pleased cat coaxing out more pets.

We’ve had days off where we just stayed in bed. I can say with a

straight face that I would keep up a lifetime of sloth like this with

Hagana if I could. Yet, as much as I wish this moment would last

forever, I house another self within.

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The investor. The one who prizes efficiency over all.

The alarm emits its shrill shriek right after, bringing my playdate

with the black cat to an end. If an alarm is meant to awaken its owner,

this one has done an admirable job. Whenever we’re alone, Hagana

and I end up lost in each other. Without this daily alarm, we’d never get

anything done.

“Hagana.”

I turn off the alarm and say her name. Hagana shakes her head in

resistance, protesting waking up since she doesn’t need to go in to work

herself—or perhaps she was just wiping the tears that leaked out when

she yawned on my pajamas. When she finally looks up, she has quite

the scowl on.

“Another day of work?”

Dear, diligent Lisa would have smacked her butt with a flyswatter

upon hearing that, but Hagana gets the answer she wants once a week.

Asking is free; it’s not a bad gamble.

“Yeah. Have to protect the Lunar Surface and all.”

I brush Hagana’s hair aside and kiss her beautiful forehead. That

doesn’t seem to placate her, and I feel the same.

“I just wish we had all the time in the world.”

After that childish complaint, we let out sighs in sync.

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I’ve been given the intimidating title of Lunar Surface Central Bank

Chairman, and I work on Lunar Surface financial policy. It’s work far

above my skills, but if being the “Hero of the Lunar Surface” whom

people lay their expectations on, and meeting said expectations, is

what it takes to keep order on this moon, then working my brains out

isn’t a bad proposition at all.

I have breakfast, look at a summary of what happened on Earth

last night, double-check the documents I’ll need for the morning’s

meeting, get myself dressed and cleaned up, and leave the house.

“Don’t stay at work late.”

She always says that, and always looks deadly serious.

I can’t always grant her wishes, but I still give her a tender hug before

I leave. When I step into the street, a car is waiting for me. I’m not too

fond of them, or how popular they’ve gotten on the Lunar Surface, but

taking the train and dealing with all the people who stop me to talk

will keep me from getting to work on time. Besides, being able to take

my time and work in the car has quite the appeal.

The home Hagana and I live in is the church we met in eight years

ago. She’d found that it was on sale, and scooped it up and repaired it,

and now it’s just the two of us there. We may be a bit far from Newton

City, but we could not ask for a better home.

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As I stare at our home, renovated to look exactly as it did eight

years ago from the outside, I feel like time is frozen in that past for me.

It may sound cliché, sure, but I can’t deny that’s part of the reason we

got this house.

If only time truly would stop. I could do so much more, achieve

so many things, and most importantly, have as much time as I wanted

with Hagana. An unrealistic dream, definitely, but what is a man but a

heap of unquenchable desires?

What’s worse, everyone around me has the hunger of a black hole,

fueling the flames of my ridiculous wish, and hoping for any of them to

tell me to ground myself is nothing but fantasy.

“Hey there, Mister.”

As I get out of the car in front of the Lunar Surface government’s

general building, the one that contains the Central Bank, I run

into Barton. He has a toothpick in his mouth, so I imagine he’s had

breakfast in a nearby establishment.

“Making money?”

I give him my usual greeting.

“Can’t complain.”

Barton and I are public servants, meaning private investment is

off the table. Still, as the head of the Lunar Surface Central Bank, I

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perform obscenely large investments. During the investment bubble

that threw the Lunar Surface into chaos a while ago, I had the bank buy

all sorts of at-risk properties. Any investor would dream of printing

unlimited money and investing with it, but the reality came with a cost.

Pouring masses of funds into the market means that if I make the

wrong call as bank chairman, I could send the economy hurdling into

chaos once again. Barton, myself, and the rest of the government are

working desperately to bring the Lunar Surface’s economy back.

“Calm even in the storm, I see.”

“Are you implying I should be more on edge?”

It isn’t like I haven’t heard barbs before that it “must be nice to invest

with someone else’s money.”

I do believe that the Lunar Surface’s money is far more important

than my own, but no matter how I try to defend myself, I find the rise

and fall of my own funds far more exciting. To counteract this, I make

sure to listen to criticism and suspicions. I want to engage with people

honestly—but Barton, when I ask him that, just laughs.

“Hahaha. No, no, I don’t mean that in a bad way. I’m still shaken up

myself, but you—nothing phases you, it seems. I envy you!”

“Yeah?”

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I raise an eyebrow. Barton, a man with multiple identities who has

done anything for money. A man with unimaginable personal wealth,

one who has done every imaginable kind of investment to reach the

art’s pinnacle.

And he’s shaken up? There has to be another meaning to that.

“Did...did something big happen in the world last night?”

I took a look at what happened on Earth in the news this morning,

but nothing stood out. Barton, on the other hand, likely has more

unofficial channels for information than one could count, so he might

have his hands around something critical – and still under the surface.

Although the Lunar Surface is recovering from the investment

bubble, the deep wounds have not fully healed. Even the smallest

matter can plunge us back into the nightmare, and as I wait for his

answer with bated breath, Barton shrugs his broad shoulders.

“Nothing of the sort. I simply had another early morning where I

spent some time thinking about how you approached me about this

job, and all I could do was sigh.”

“......”

I can’t see where he’s going with this, and he doesn’t care. He

continues, as if on stage to an audience.

“You approached me about working with the government, saying

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that there’s no better place to invest, remember? Well, you couldn’t

have been more right.”

We walk down the corridor together, coming to a split in the path.

The left leads to a variety of government offices, while the right leads

to affiliated organizations, such as the Central Bank.

“Because there’s nowhere you could make more profitable

investments than right here.”

A chubby finger points to the plate hung on the wall.

Lunar Surface Government Building.

“I sigh every day. Think of all the money I could make if I just had

the instruments of the state all to myself.”

His grin reminds me of carnivorous animals I’ve seen in the zoo.

“And people have done it before, too. Take over a small country,

and you’re a billionaire in the blink of an eye. Think about it—how

many countries don’t even have paved roads, but have dictators that

are filthy rich? Now think about just how much you could make if you

controlled a developed country’s economic apparatus. And I’ve done

just that, but I never imagined something of this scale. If I used all of

this power for my own profit...I don’t think even my greed could keep

up.”

He pats his belly.

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To an investor at the top of the food chain like Barton, your average

pile of money holds no excitement. That’s why I’m not worried he’ll

turn corrupt and try to line his own pockets. No, I feel a sort of respect,

one that borders on fear, that this man would not hesitate to consider

swallowing up a country’s seat of power all for his own.

“It taught me that there are still plenty of pleasures in this world one

must experience to understand. It excites me, just as much as my first

love...yet at the same time, it also frightens me.”

As I mull over my bafflement that this man could fear anything,

Barton lets out an embarrassed smile.

“When I realize how much fun there is to be had, it unnerves me to

think that time is limited. That I won’t be able to enjoy this world to the

fullest.”

“I...”

I realize I have to agree. Barton pats me on the shoulder.

“Now then, let’s fix the mess this bubble’s left behind. We’ll never

have enough time, and an investor always wants to get the highest

return in the most efficient way. We don’t have time to stick with old

investments forever. Efficiency, that’s what we need—otherwise, we

won’t get to do all the things we really want to.”

With that, Barton heads off towards the Ministry of Finance’s floor.

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The highest return in the most efficient way, huh. I think over his

words as he walks off. They have a great weight to them. The world still

has many pleasures to it, but not enough time to enjoy them, and that’s

a frightening thought...

I thought there was nothing more exciting than investment, but

now that throne has to be shared by another.

Investment and a certain black-haired girl. If I had unlimited

time, I could forego the alarm clock and live eternally in the world of

drowsiness with her. I bet I never would have believed that eight years

ago.

But in reality, I have to set that alarm, and the day where it all

ends will come eventually. It may sound ridiculous, but some of the

obscenely wealthy hire renowned scholars and scientists to research

immortality, giving them a chance to use up the wealth they’ve

accumulated, while others research reincarnation to find out who they

will be in their next life, and arrange to put themselves in their own

wills.

It’s easy to laugh and say it’s all useless effort, but they know how

enjoyable the world is. Their misery at the fact that they can’t enjoy it

all on the time God has given them alone is where I can relate.

What sense is having immense wealth if you can’t use it all? Then

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you turn to love, and wanting to spend an eternity with the one you

love, and yet...that is all too similar a wish.

Of course, I probably have the choice to close my eyes and ears,

throw everything aside, and run off somewhere on Earth with Hagana.

As long as she has the programs and internet connection, Hagana can

build any necessary capital in the blink of an eye.

Still, putting together all of the pieces to pull off that fanciful escape

teaches me something: it is not truly what I want.

There are too many people connected to me now.

To me, the greatest happiness is keeping my connection with them,

to the world, while enjoying my time with Hagana. Still, that’s about

the same as hoping for the world to go on eternally.

I let out a deep sigh and adjust my grip on my bag. Even though the

moon has a sixth of Earth’s gravity, I can feel its weight. I may be luckier

than the average man, and I’ve come a long way, but there are still far

too many walls I can’t overcome.

Which means that, just like Barton, who is always several steps

ahead of me in everything, I’ll have to make effective use of my time. If

I do my work efficiently, I’ll have more free time. Obvious, but still.

The highest return in the most efficient way.

I’d always thought that statement was so obvious, yet I find myself

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having to really consider it as I head to work.

Ever since then, I’m still thinking about what the word “efficiency”

means. Since life is limited, how much you can get done while you’re

still breathing depends on efficiency. Could I double my efficiency at

work, greatly increasing the time I have with Hagana...?

It may seem late to be finally giving consideration to such things,

now of all times, but I’m in a rather blessed position in that regard.

Right now, I’m bound by the task of revitalizing the Lunar Surface’s

economy, and what I need for that is money. Luckily, when it comes to

profitable investments, we have all the best people here.

“The best investment?”

I a sk Marco, once the lunch w ith his pri vate investment

organization to “deepen our understanding of the investment market”

is over.

Though things have calmed down, the embers of the investment

bubble’s burst still give off a heat in the market, so I’ve kept public

and private organizations in close contact. I invite heads of the largest

private investment firms for lunches every week to keep abreast of

current affairs.

There are complaints of working too closely together and

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preferential treatment, to be sure, but when the chips are down, you

need to trust who you’re working with. And to get that trust, you need

to meet in person. In fact, people who have gotten to know me at these

meetings have decided to borrow money from the bank when things

go south, knowing the establishment won’t take advantage of them.

We may be dealing with billions of mools here, but at the end of the

day, it’s still humans behind the wheel, something we all learned from

the recent crisis.

While the other company leaders leave in their expensive company

cars, Marco is walking home, and that’s when I stop him. When I ask

my question, he gives me a cheeky shrug back.

“I think most people would make a face if they heard you saying

that, Hal.”

Marco inherited Eleanor’s Schweitzer Investment after the bubble,

and he now has the obnoxiousness any investor needs.

“Not all of us can pull off an insane investment like you did, you

know.”

The investment bubble, set in the core of the real estate market,

gave rise to unbelievable financial products. They may have seemed to

be as safe as can be on the surface, but pull up the curtain and you’d see

they were massive gambling options, with enough volatile fuel to blast

1 1 8


them to Saturn. A few others and I wagered an immense sum on the

fragility of the financial casino, jumping head-first into a venture that

promised wealth beyond our wildest dreams.

The amount of money I nearly made would have made history.

“Nearly unlimited money to invest with, and odds in the hundreds.

No matter how well I do for myself, those are heights I’m never

reaching.”

A hint of resentment hides in his words.

“So I’m afraid I have no choice but to live out my days while

struggling with an inferiority complex.”

He puts his hand to his chest and sighs to accent his melodramatic

tone.

I don’t quite feel like playing ball, but I soften my response.

“I didn’t see a mool of that investment, and the risk was huge. And I

hear the fund is about three times as big now under your leadership.”

Marco is, without embellishment, a brilliant fund manager. His

methods are a mix of mine and Eleanor’s, with Hagana’s and Chris’s

mathematical tactics blended in. Most of the time, I worry that he’ll

be the one to pass me by, especially since public institutions move at a

snail’s pace.

Yet, he seems suspicious about my statement.

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“...Was that a compliment?”

Nothing would get a strained smile out of me easier.

“Not that my compliments are worth much, either way.”

“You’re the Lunar Surface’s living legend, Hal. You should act the

part a little more.”

I can’t tell if he’s complimenting me or not, but I know that Marco

is still Marco.

“But why this ‘best investment’ stuff all of a sudden? Have you

finally decided to go independent and take the market by storm?”

“I’ve only been here a year. I can’t just throw the post away. There are

lots of people whose livelihoods depend on me.”

“Tch. We could’ve really expanded the fund with you on board.”

“What, did you want me as an advertisement or something?”

Marco retains his mischievous grin.

“Come on... Anyway, I’m not going anywhere, but I do have a little

something in mind.”

“Oh? Well, let’s hear it, no matter how crazy it is. Your statements

are always crazy enough, anyway.”

“Like ‘the Lunar Surface is going to collapse!’ and all that.”

“And you went and wagered all that money on it. Unbelievable,

honestly.”

1 2 0


Marco shakes his head and continues.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have any information on new investments.

I’m walking the wreckage of the burst bubble, spending my days

picking up whatever treasures I can find. That said, you know as well

as I do how reluctant investors are to ever give up, so I’m sure they’re

planting the seeds of a new bubble as we speak.”

“Mmm.”

I nod and scratch my head a bit.

“I just wanted to ask out of curiosity, really. I was thinking there

might be some amazing method I haven’t noticed yet.”

“So being a worrywart is the secret to being a good investor.”

He winks dramatically and points to me.

I shrug and wave him away, encouraging him to continue.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Chris instead? If you’re looking for the

next financial Manhattan Project, she’s your best bet.”

Chris ended up as one of the key figures in sparking an internal

revolution and completely new system at the Lunar Surface’s largest

bank, E.J. Rochberg. The bank commanded financial might on bar

with a country, and she led the team in charge of developing new

financial products. What’s more, she’s the one who caused the bubble

in the first place, being one of the few people to profit from the

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destruction.

“Chris, huh... Hrm.”

I’ve known Chris for as long as...no, longer than Hagana, but I still

can’t just pop in and see her whenever I feel like it these days.

“Well, she does still have a thing for you.”

“......”

I’m about to say that I doubt it, but Chris is one of the beasts of the

financial world. Your average scam artist wouldn’t hold a candle to her

when it comes to hiding one’s true feelings.

“How about Eleanor, then?”

“Eleanor?”

“Well, she just happened to say she was going to spend the night at

Lisa’s church today.”

“Wait, she’s coming to the moon? She didn’t tell me!”

Surprise colors my words, but Marco just grins.

“She was sure you were busy and didn’t want to take up your

precious time.”

But if she’s staying at Lisa’s church, I’m going to catch wind of it

whether I want to or not. That was probably one of her classic, biting

jokes. A show of our closeness, really, but I’m not sure how much I

appreciate it.

1 2 2


“Personally, I think Eleanor still has a thing for you, too.”

Marco used to be infatuated with Eleanor, so he seems to be on her

side. Or perhaps he’s just waiting for his chance... Eleanor and Chris

are both amazing women, and any man by their side would pale in

comparison. And for some reason, they both have feelings for me.

Feelings I can’t return.

Just thinking of that makes me want to break out into a cold sweat,

making me feel both guilt, and, while I could never tell Hagana this, a

sense of shame at the wasted opportunities.

Much like I wish I had unlimited time, I wish I had three or four

lives to live in parallel. That’s something I never want Hagana to know

either, though, so I desperately keep it hidden deep inside.

“You never did go easy on me, did you?”

“I hear a past Prime Minister of England hired a cabinet solely of

people who were harsh with him.”

“I’m grateful, really.”

I speak without a hint of sincerity, and Marco chuckles.

“Oh, and Lisa told me to ask when you can come visit the church.

She wants to have lunch or dinner or something with everyone.”

“Wait, what? You could’ve said something earlier, then... All right,

let’s see.”

1 2 3


I reach to check my schedule, but I freeze in place.

“Does Hagana know about this?”

Normally, you’d expect Eleanor or Chris to spring something like

this on me out of nowhere. It isn’t like Lisa. Marco, however, lets out a

conflicted smile and a sigh.

“Lisa contacted Hagana about this a long time ago, but it looks like

she hasn’t let you in on it. Well, we all expected that to happen.”

I’m about to ask what he means when Marco lets out an exasperated

laugh.

“She really does love you, you know?”

“Hey, that’s...”

I’m about to complain about my privacy, but I can see what Marco

is getting at.

“Lisa figured Hagana would hesitate and keep the meeting a secret

from you, so she told me to tell you. Just in case.”

And you know, Lisa’s worry was exactly right.

My experiences with Chris and Eleanor were while Hagana was

absent. I’m innocent, of course, but Hagana is probably anxious about

what she doesn’t know. What’s worse, I don’t exactly have normal

friendships with Eleanor and Chris. We’ve connected from the depths

of our souls. And sometimes, I think that if only they were men, then I

1 2 4


wouldn’t have to deal with how complicated this all was.

Hagana probably doesn’t want to actively take me to a place where

there are two women I’ve had such intimate connections with.

“She also said that if you brought this conversation up to Hagana,

she’d put up a fight over showing up.”

She couldn’t be more right. Lisa is as observant as ever.

“So make sure you bring her over. Lisa’s orders.”

I can just imagine the scolding I’ll get if I refuse. When we’re with

Lisa, both Hagana and I are still the kids we were eight years ago.

“Got it.”

Marco grins at my answer.

When I get back to the house, I bring up the topic of Lisa, doing my

utmost not to blame Hagana. She looks just as miserable as I thought

she might, but I can understand how she feels about not wanting to be

invited. And like Marco said, she doesn’t want to go, but she wants me

to go even less. I can’t help but smile at that cute jealousy.

“But, hey, Chris still looks up to you as a teacher, and Eleanor wants

to be better friends with you, too.”

Part of that is Eleanor’s characteristic nobility, I imagine. To the

world at large, Eleanor and I are more than just friends. Hell, some

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movie cast us as lovers, and Hagana had completely bought it, putting

together some ridiculous plan...which is probably why Eleanor wants

to bury the hatchet, get everything out in the open, and start on a good

foot.

That, and to cheer Hagana on in her slightly awkward approach to

love...apparently. And I don’t mean to say that out of suspicion. Lately,

I’ve been thinking that Eleanor is close to Lisa, personality-wise. A

natural born busy-body, but one who enjoys the performance.

I think she’s definitely being nosy, but there’s a reason I can’t tell her

to mind her own business. It isn’t because I feel guilty about turning her

down, either—it’s because of how weirdly cute Hagana gets whenever

she talks to Eleanor. Hagana is, bluntly put, a square, but after her chats

with Eleanor...she acts in this cute way that I wish would stick. I’m a

little afraid to find out exactly what Eleanor’s putting into her head, but

whatever it is, it will sometimes make Hagana soften her sharp edges

a bit, and as hard as it is to believe, she’ll actually buy make-up, or have

new clothes tailored. There’s no doubt in my mind that these are all

Eleanor’s achievements. It’s almost like every time they meet, Hagana

gets a little more girly.

Of course, Lisa will lecture Hagana as well, but that’s more like

a mother advising her daughter. The daughter will say she’ll do it, of

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course, but not actually change her behavior. Eleanor, however, is

more like an older sister to Hagana—at least, that’s my read on their

relationship. Or perhaps she feels a need to resist, to surpass, when she

sees the noble air Eleanor commands.

In any case, I personally want Hagana to come along.

“...But...”

Hagana lets out a quiet sigh.

“I’ll have less time with you.”

Lisa told me I’d be the type to get really attached to my wife, and

boy, was she right. I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that from

Hagana, but I’m forced to give her an answer unlike my usual one.

“Well, there’s something I want to ask Chris and Eleanor.”

“...What’s that?”

I notice a glint of aggression in her eyes, but I keep myself calm.

“Just about more efficient investment methods, that’s all.”

“...?”

Hagana silently tilts her head, like a cat who’s just had her tail pulled.

“I ran into Barton this morning, and he told me how scary it is that

we’ve all got a finite amount of time. It’s a thought that’s been festering

in my mind for a while, but hearing it in words really hit me. I’d like to

think I’m doing all I can right now, but I was wondering if I could do

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things more...efficiently. Because if I could wrap up my work in half the

time, I’d have twice as much time to spend with you.”

Her eyes went wide, this time like a cat that’s found her toy.

“And my work’s all about investment, right? So there’s no one better

to ask than those two.”

I give her cheek a gentle pinch and grin.

“And if I found some amazing method that blows my work away

and gives me a lot more free time, wouldn’t that be the best investment

of all?”

I have to admit it sounds a little solipsistic, but Hagana seems cool

with it.

“Fine. But...”

She looks at me with saddened eyes.

“Why don’t you ask me that question, Hal?”

She’s probably hurt that I didn’t come to her first, but what

decorates my face is a slightly reluctant, sheepish smile.

“Well, if I asked you, I’d probably get so into it I’d forget to eat,

forget to sleep...and, well...”

I clear my throat.

“I thought you’d probably really miss– Ahh?!”

She leaps toward me and knocks me over. Someone watching

1 2 8


might sigh and shake their head, but I can say this without hesitation: I

cannot imagine being happier than I am right now.

I need new tools to gain even more of this time.

Making it to Lisa’s the day right after is impossible, but I manage to

find some time four days later. I wrap up work quickly and leave the

government building. Stepping outside, I see Hagana leaning under a

streetlight. She notices me right away, but doesn’t light up like normal.

She’s still too embarrassed to hold hands in public.

“I bought some gifts to bring over this afternoon, so let’s head

straight over.”

I gesture to one of the taxis lined up in front of the government

building. This is personal business, so I don’t want to use the

government car to go to Lisa’s church. I tell the driver our destination,

and the car quietly rolls off. The taxis in this area are used to ferrying

important government officials around, blessing them with the

propensity to not be chatty or prying.

Unfortunately, Hagana is just as quiet, forcing the taxi into a deep

silence. When I first met her, I thought she was this wild type who

didn’t care what anyone thought, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

In reality, Hagana’s the type of person who messes every conceivable

1 2 9


thing up once she starts caring about what people think, and her self-

awareness of that leads her to purposefully stay uninterested in others.

Her staunch refusal to hold hands outside and lack of speech in the

taxi are examples of this.

She can come up with a stochastic differential equation about

stocks at the speed of light, but once she starts worrying about the

right way to hold hands in public, it’s all over. I personally don’t think

random people in the street would care how a couple holds hands, but

that sort of muted expression of emotion is really hard for Hagana.

If she’s holding hands, she doesn’t want to—no, can’t—stop at just

holding hands.

So, that’s why we act distant in public. People often think she’s my

secretary. Still, that cold, distant expression of hers is appealing in its

own way. In fact, I love it when I pretend to accidentally grab her hand

and she goes beet red. It’s a little hard to clean up after, though, so I

don’t do it too often.

“...?”

As I’m thinking about all that, Hagana looks from the window over

to me, suspicion on her face. I give her a harmless smile, assuring her

that it’s nothing, which leads to her sighing and looking back out the

window. It looks like she’s a bit on edge, and I know why.

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Hagana isn’t so cold that she’s completely opposed to seeing Chris

and Eleanor. She always puts Eleanor’s teachings into practice, and

she can talk with Chris all night about investing. Above all, the two of

them really came through for us when we were getting ready for our

wedding. Hell, Lisa’s practically our mother.

No, Hagana is on edge because she’s going to be in contact with

people she simply can’t not care about. It’s because she cares so much

about Chris and Eleanor that she’s worried. What’s worse, Lisa loves

going out of her way to treat the two of us as husband and wife.

While Lisa’s probably just glad that the dumb brats she picked up

eight years ago have gotten together and are doing well in life, Hagana

doesn’t seem to like being shoehorned into that role. Something like

that makes her freeze up. And then, everyone will be able to tell from

the look on my face how cute I think it is, opening us to more teasing

from Lisa, Eleanor, and Chris, meaning Hagana will end up even more

stiff and awkward...

And here I am, enjoying the thought of it.

“Would you like to stop here?”

The driver takes me out of my thoughts.

We’re in a plain yet beautiful neighborhood of apartment buildings.

It’s oddly calm, compared to the rest of the Lunar Surface.

1 3 1


“Thanks, yes. This is the place.”

I pay him his electronic money and get out of the taxi. We’re in

front of the building that houses Lisa’s little church. It hasn’t gotten any

bigger.

“Hagana.”

She already looks tired when she looks back at me.

“You’re really cute when you’re being awkward, too, you know.”

She purses her lips and her eyes go wide, and I see her cheeks start

to go red. She quickly looks away and smacks my shoulder. Is there any

more proof of how incomprehensible the world is, than this woman

right here being smart enough to destroy the Lunar Surface’s economy

with her brainpower alone?

I put an arm around her as she fusses and start walking.

“Let’s get going.”

Hagana shoots me a resentful look, but she follows my lead.

Eleanor is the daughter of a rich family back on Earth, and she has

plenty of capital she’s earned with her own talents. I don’t point out

how she could easily rent out the most expensive suites in Newton

City, because no one on the surface knows better than I that you can’t

buy relationships with money.

1 3 2


“Hello, Eleanor. It’s been too long.”

“Hal! Wonderful to see you. My apologies for taking time out of

your busy schedule.”

Eleanor smiles softly as she gives me the standard Earth greeting of

a hug.

Taking an important government post and meeting plenty of Earth

folk, I’ve gotten used to this greeting, but for someone like Hagana,

who’s only ever on her tablet at home or hanging out at Lisa’s church, it

seems still a difficult custom to pull off.

“And you too, Hagana.”

I will, of course, refrain from pointing out how Hagana can leap at

me like a cat when it’s me she’s hugging.

“This is for you, Lisa.”

“So you’re grown up enough to bring gifts when you visit someone

now? Oh, they grow up so fast!”

It’s been eight whole years since the short period I was the ill-

mannered kid she’s remembering, but Lisa still tells these kinds of

jokes.

“Apparently we all grow up without even trying.”

“Whether you age well or not, though, that depends.”

She smiles, and I can see I’ve probably been aging gracefully in her

1 3 3


eyes.

“Well, the food’s almost ready. I’ll be right back.”

With that, Lisa just gives Hagana a tiny wave before heading for the

kitchen. Hagana comes to the church fairly often, making it something

like a second home to her.

“Chris here yet?”

“She called earlier saying she was on her way.”

“We’ll have to watch out for a group of black cars, then.”

Eleanor giggles, but she isn’t joking.

“I’m guessing Serrault and Marco are out doing the shopping?”

“They are. I feel bad about asking them to do the errands every

time, though.”

“As long Lisa’s hosting and you and Chris attend, I’m sure they’ll be

glad to keep it up.”

“You may be right.”

Eleanor giggles, and when her eyes turn to Hagana behind me, her

smile grows ever wider.

“Hagana, I actually have a little present for you, myself.”

“A...present?”

When Hagana says that, Eleanor nods in amusement.

“It’s a secret from Hal. Come with me.”

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Eleanor takes her hand and disappears along with Hagana into the

room she’s staying in. Hagana sends me an SOS with her eyes, but she

seems to be enjoying herself, too, so I wave goodbye.

“A present, huh...”

Last time, she gave her some classy perfume. Hagana isn’t in the

habit of using perfume, and she smells wonderful enough not to need

it, but this perfume was different. I imagine this is what people talk

about when they say scents are like flowers in bloom. I scratch my

nose, remembering the scent that floored me, blowing away all macho

pretense of being the “guardian” of the Lunar Surface’s economy, the

protector of the realm. At the time, I wondered if the perfume had

some strange drug in it, even though I know now that I just wasn’t used

to Hagana wearing perfume.

So, I have great expectations for Eleanor’s secret present.

However, with Serrault and Marco out doing the shopping and Lisa

grappling with the cooking, I have a whole lot of nothing to do. Right

as I’m about to do some work on my tablet, I hear the door opening,

followed by a light scream and the sound of someone falling over.

Peeking into the corridor, I see frizzy blonde hair splayed over the

hallway.

“Urgh...”

1 3 5


Groaning on the ground is Chris. She seems to have been in the

middle of work, too, judging from her firm grip of her tablet even

while she lies on the floor.

“Talk about your workaholics.”

After I help her up, she roughly adjusts her glasses.

“Th-Thanks...”

“You’ve got some serious bags under your eyes. Have you been

sleeping lately?”

Chris responds with a proud grin.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying life.”

“Tell Lisa I messed up my makeup, okay?”

I feel like you’re pretty far gone if you’re putting eyeshadow

underneath your eyes instead of on top of them, but she probably

enjoys the scolding from Lisa.

“Hey, I missed you at the last lunch meeting.”

I mention that as we head to the living room.

“You missed me? Working for the government sure has got you

lying more.”

“I’m serious. I like seeing familiar faces in stuffy, formal places like

that. It feels like I’m seeing some weird kind of performance, you

know?”

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Chris gives me a look that’s either sleepy or suspicious, but she ends

up giggling.

“You know, I think I know that feeling.”

“Right?”

When Chris and I return to the living room, Lisa looks back at us

in-between steps in her cooking.

“Oh, so that scream was you, Chris?”

“Hello, Lisa.”

“Who did you think it was?”

Lisa grins as she stirs the pot.

“I thought Eleanor had given Hagana some flashy underwear or

something.”

I can’t believe a clergywoman would say that. I also start to imagine

the sight, until I remember Chris is standing right next to me.

“Glad you’re having fun there.”

Chris teases me with a sly look. I can only avert my eyes.

“So, Chris, want something to drink? Non-alcoholic, of course—

you don’t look up for it.”

“...I could use something for more energy.”

“Got it.”

After finishing up task at hand, Lisa opens the fridge. Chris sits

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down on the sofa and taps at her tablet with drowsy eyes, and as I

watch her, I realize why Lisa used to scold me for bringing my tablet to

the dinner table. I also realize that, when she did scold me, she wasn’t

actually angry. It's hard to be too angry with someone who looks like

they’re enjoying themselves so much.

I also remember the question I need to ask Chris.

“By the way, Chris, there’s something I want to ask you.”

“I haven’t brought a recording device, but if it isn’t in violation of

corporate ethics or government standards, go right ahead.”

Mischievous eyes accompany her barrage of words. I shrug and ask

my question.

“I want to wrap up my work more quickly, so I’m looking for some

good methods.”

“...Good methods?”

Chris’ eyes look genuinely surprised behind her practical ,

unfashionable glasses.

“You mean, like some kind of ridiculous rags-to-riches investment?

And here I thought the Central Bank’s balance sheet was taking steady

steps towards fiscal health. What, do you need to hide some losses that

haven’t been made public?”

Chris, a private investing shark, looks like she’s about to drool like a

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dog. I wave my hand to calm her down.

“It’s not that. Work’s calmed down quite a bit lately, but it doesn’t

show any sign of finishing up, you know?”

I think over what to say, but in the end decide there’s no need to

hide the truth.

“I just think the position I’m in now is kind of weird, and that I’d be

more at home in the private sector.”

“Oh, so you’re looking for a snappy way of wrapping up your current

job? Investment or not.”

“Basically, yeah.”

Chris puts a finger to her chin, closes her eyes, and makes

thoughtful noises, then puts her hand to her mouth, as if to hide her

words from Lisa.

“Can’t you just write up a document explaining how you’ve saved

the economy with all the work you’ve done so far, and then shove

the post onto someone else? Whatever happens afterward isn’t your

problem.”

Well, she was part of a coup in the Lunar Surface’s biggest bank.

“What about my responsibility?”

“Responsibility?”

She repeats the word, then lets out a smile that is in no way

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appropriate for a church.

“Deciding to stick things out to the end is a great thing, but the

larger whatever thing you’re dealing with gets, the more that basically

becomes a delusion. Especially with the economy—when it gets too

big, it just becomes a monster. Nothing that any one person can deal

with. Once you accept your limits, you’ll realize there’s not much

responsibility you need to take on. I really don’t think looking the

other way is a bad thing.”

Chris knows the power of her organization more than anyone else.

“Whether you think that’s the right thing to do or not—that’s

personal.”

Embarrassment comes to her smile, something I remember seeing

often four years ago.

“That said, I do think that taking on problems headfirst, where

someone like me would just get the hell out of Dodge, is really

cool...and necessary sometimes.”

It sounds like life in the cutthroat world of investment banking has

helped Chris return to her old self, how she was four years ago. Still,

her experience in surviving the financial battlefield peeks through at

the corners of her speech.

Get the hell out of Dodge. Not the most elegant way of putting it,

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and I bet Lisa would shake her head.

“...I guess, at the end of the day, if you want something, you’ve got to

pay some sort of price.”

“It’s a nice bonus if everything works out and fits with your morals

at the same time, of course.”

Chris gives me a pitying smile, and I have to nod. She’s fought in

squabbles for power in a massive bank, so I’d imagine she’s seen far

more insanity than I have.

“Well, now I know a bit better how harsh the world is.”

“Classic Hal joke right there.”

She giggles, and I join her.

“Well, well. Having fun, you two?”

Lisa emerges from the kitchen, bearing a home-made banana

milkshake.

“I got some real honey just a while back. This will be sure to energize

you. Hopefully it’ll make up a little for all the sleep you’ve been

missing.”

“Wow, thank you.”

Chris giggles and takes a sip, then lets out a deep sigh with her eyes

closed.

“This blows energy drinks out of the water.”

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“Well, I’ll make them for you anytime if you come back home.”

Chris can only strain a smile out at that. I can’t imagine how hard it

must have been just to make time for today. Lisa knows this, of course,

so she just turns around and heads back to the kitchen.

“I’m so glad I came.”

Chris whispers, then looks to me.

“I’ll add this to my productivity secrets.”

A banana milkshake.

I shrug, and Chris grins.

Serrault and Marco return, and Rena shows up a short while after.

Eleanor and Hagana stay in Eleanor’s room for quite a while, but

Hagana didn’t look too different when they emerge. She doesn’t seem

to have perfume on, either, so my mind wanders to the underwear Lisa

joked about...before I quickly bring myself back to my senses.

Still, Hagana appears to be deep in thought about something, and

not simply because she’s around people, either. Eleanor seems to be

enjoying seeing her reaction, so I figure it must have something to

do with the gift. While I’m curious about what the gift could be, not

knowing is part of the fun, so I choose not to ask.

Around that time, the living room is filled with Lisa’s home cooking

1 4 2


and everyone’s chatter. The conversation turns to philanthropy on the

Lunar Surface, acting like a single ray of light in the city’s labyrinth of

greed.

Chris grabs Hagana to talk about some difficult mathematics, and

before I know it, Chris herself is nodding off. Hagana gets a blanket

from Lisa and tucks Chris in. I’m sure this used to happen all the time

eight years ago.

Hagana looks at Chris sleeping and lets out a rare, nostalgic smile.

After we finish eating, Lisa and Rena clean up, and since Serrault

and Marco eagerly assist them, the rest of us chat in the living room,

the kitchen being too small for a crowd of helpers.

Hagana seems nervous. She whispers something into Eleanor’s ear,

then locks herself in Eleanor’s room. I follow her with my eyes, curious,

and cross gazes with Eleanor when I look back.

“You’re in for a real surprise.”

With a smile that bright, all I can do is nod. This presents the

perfect opportunity, as well.

“Actually, Eleanor, there is something that I wanted to ask you.”

Eleanor puts her hand to her mouth and theatrically looks around.

“Ooh, whatever could it be? Should we sneak out into the hallway?”

“We might have to.”

1 4 3


Eleanor giggles and urges me to continue.

“I’ve asked Chris and Marco this already, too, but I’m looking for a

more efficient way to quickly taking care of work.”

Eleanor cutely tilts her head to the side, curious.

“So I can have more free time.”

When I add that explanation, her face lights up.

“Aha, now I see. At first I thought you were seeking to start a new

investment fund.”

“Well, if you think of life as an investment, it’s more or less the

same.”

Eleanor mercilessly teases Hagana and I both, so I figure I can get

away with teasing her back.

As expected, she looks as though she’s eaten something spicy and

delicious.

“So, you have an investment you’d like to pour all of that free time

into. My, my.”

She jokingly fans her face.

“Exactly. So, do you have any ideas? I figure that you and Chris

would be the best people to ask about this.”

“Face your goal and find the optimal answer.”

“Right.”

1 4 4


The comrade who faced off against an immense foe with me four

years ago closes her eyes, as if remembering our battle, and leans back

in her chair.

“I’m afraid I am not terribly clever.”

She has an adorable, mischievously girlish expression on.

“And you’ve seen everything embarrassing about me.”

“Even you in the bathtub.”

The way I say this would make Hagana go for the jugular, but she

was wearing clothes at the time, to be accurate.

“Precisely, which is why I feel I cannot give you a satisfactory answer.

I am from an old Earth family, you know, and my methodology has

not changed.”

A noble aristocrat of the ancient régime.

“Work, work, and work some more. Take a step with your right

foot, then your left, and keep on doing so, no matter what it takes.”

Eleanor’s workaholism four years ago would put even Chris’

enthusiasm today to shame. She just barely maintained her humanity

with a mixture of caffeine, sleeping pills, and anxiety medication.

“That may be efficient, but it will not last. We have a certain

amount of energy in us to burn, and that limited energy is what holds

us back when it comes work. There is no going against the laws of

1 4 5


thermodynamics—those are simply the laws of the land. Of the

universe.”

Eleanor used to call me a fireball. Heat. Passion. I heard that about

myself often.

“Then what kind of advice can I expect, with that in mind?”

“Advice?”

The Earth noble before me chuckles, as if enjoying a small joke.

I have seen her shout, wail, and go wild with rage. Perhaps Hagana’s

worries are not unfounded.

“Back then, I was on the verge of running out of gas, yet...gaining

you as an ally, Hal, allowed me carr y on to the ver y end. Do you

understand?”

She smiles, her tone that of explaining something to a child who

needs things spelled out simply to him.

Now, it’s my turn to lean back in my chair.

“Well...”

In searching for a way to gain more time to spend with Hagana, I

feel like I’ve hit a mental cul-de-sac. And how much more effective

would I be if I just worked harder, anyway? It feels like that would

sap all of my time with Hagana, while only giving a paltr y boost

of productivity at work. Does this mean I’ll have to throw out my

1 4 6


responsibility and pledge away my conscience as collateral, like Chris

suggested?

I’m crossing my arms and mumbling to myself when Eleanor stands

up and walks over to the kitchen. She whispers something into Lisa’s

ear as she does the dishes. Lisa leans over to listen, then glances at me

before putting on exasperated grin. I can practically hear her sighing at

my foolishness, and Rena strains out a smile at that, too. Lisa wipes her

hands and comes over to me, looking as though she’s going to tell me

something obvious—something I’m not getting.

And me, I feel like a kid about to get scolded.

“Goodness, Hal. You really never do grow up, do you.”

She stands before me, hands on both hips. I look up at her, all but

quivering.

“There are no shortcuts in life. If you want to live right, you need to

have disciplined habits, be grateful to God, and work humbly.”

S h e s a y s t h i s w i t h s u c h o v e r w h e l m i n g c o n v i c t i o n a n d

persuasiveness that I can’t object. But, there’s still something I want to

say.

“And what if you feel that’s not enough?”

I expect Lisa to say greed is a sin, but she takes a moment to think

before replying.

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“If you keep walking, you’ll eventually get where you want. It seems

obvious, but not many people actually stick to it. Plus, if you work

hard and keep your health up with good habits, you can walk for even

longer, and get even farther. No tricks needed.”

Obvious, yet necessary words, like the kind you’d heard at a Sunday

sermon.

“You look like you know that all too well, though.”

“Ugh.”

“That’s why I’m saying you’re still a child. You think you’re an adult

because you notice your flaws, but that’s exactly where you’re wrong.”

Lisa points at me, then pokes her finger on my nose.

“You can call yourself an adult when you realize just how privileged

a position you’re in.”

“Er... What do you mean?”

Lisa puts on an exasperated smile and sighs before responding.

“So, our little lamb is hungering for eternity, is he? Looks like I’ll

have to wake him up, since I’m the one who had him swear his eternal

love, after all.”

Lisa, the acting priest at our wedding, continues to twist my nose.

“I have to make you realize just how important healthy eating and

sleeping habits are—not to mention honest work. But, I will also say

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this. After doling out matrimonial blessings with the Bible in hand, I

realized something.”

“...What’s that?”

Lisa looks at Eleanor, then at me.

“Friends can help you through almost anything, but there’s

something even greater.”

“And you already have that, Hal.”

“Listen, no matter how healthy your lifestyle, there’s nothing that

will help you live longer than a good partner. This isn’t just typical

mom advice—it’s been overwhelmingly proven by modern health

research. Make sure you REALLY keep that in mind. See, the way

you’re forgetting how you got together with Hagana and just want to

wrap up your work for more free time—it’s like the king who wanted

gold so much that he wished everything he touched would turn into

the stuff!”

She’s twisted my nose so much it feels about to turn red like a

clown’s, though I have to admit that might be fitting for me right now.

Whenever I’m with Eleanor and Lisa, I revert to the same child I was

eight years ago.

“Is that about enough advice?”

“I think Hal has learned his lesson.”

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They’re merciless, but I have no comeback.

“Leave the kid to his own devices and come with me, Eleanor. I’ll

chase Serrault and Marco off, so you help me bake the pie for dessert.”

“Hehe. As you wish.”

She giggles, and I then find myself alone in the living room.

It’s a strange feeling, both lonely and comforting. Or perhaps I’m

more excited at realizing my redemption from the foolish phantom

I’d been taken in by. At the end of the day, the winning investments are

the ones that take their time, moving slowly and surely. The turtle, not

the hare. Didn’t I already know that?

Most of all, I have something even greater than pure gold. If I look

at that as an investment in itself, I can’t ask for a better one. Indeed, all

I need to do is think about why the housing bubble was the greatest

investment in history.

There are many investments that boast good returns, but you

can only put limited funds into them. No matter how high the rate

of return, if you can only put in a small sum, it will never be terribly

appealing.

That gamble’s strength was the sheer amount of funds that could be

put into it, as well as the massive return. With that in mind...

I get out of my chair, go down the hall, and stop in front of the

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room Eleanor has been staying in. This is a wager even greater than the

bubble. Back then, I wagered all my money. Now, I’m wagering my

everything.

“Hagana.”

I slowly open the door after knocking, and find Hagana sitting

down in the middle of the room, hunched over, silently working at

something. She notices me and looks over her shoulder at me, looking

surprised at my presence, but then an unconcealable joy suddenly

comes over her face.

“What are you up to?”

Instead of answering, Hagana shows me what is in her hands.

“Knitting wool?”

“She said this was a common present to give people on Earth.”

She keeps her hands moving as she speaks. I always had the

impression that Hagana was clumsy, but judging from her mechanical

movements and the book of complicated knitting techniques on the

floor next to her, I realize she just might be perfectly suited for this

type of task.

“What are you knitting, anyway?”

The Lunar Surface takes after Earth’s spring weather, so I can’t guess

what she is knitting. When Hagana hears my question, she beams with

1 5 1


great joy.

“It’s a secret.”

I get on my knees and sit on the floor like Hagana, then hug her

delicate frame from behind. She squirms in embarrassment a bit at

first, but quickly settles into my arms.

She’s as thin as always, but she also has a bit more softness to her

lately.

A secret, she said. That only makes me more curious. When

investing, you get curious about how much of a return you will get.

Hagana, well...she’ll pay me back a hundred times for a single smile at

her. She’s the greatest investment I’ve ever known, and whatever she’s

knitting–

“Hm?”

I realize what she’s making, and my mind stops.

“Is this...”

My arms around Hagana unconsciously reach out to what she’s

knitting. She doesn’t say anything, simply wearing her quiet smile.

I stroke it with trembling hands, then turn to look at her face from

the side. Her shy smile tells me everything.

At the end of the day, investment is a practice of increasing

something.

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And I have made a great investment.

“Hal.”

When she says my name, I wrap my arms around the two people

dearest to me.

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