A Trip to the Combini

[grimoireofkenji]

 

“I’d like to see the inside of an American combini, Human.”

That sentence started all of this. Your Elder God roommate’s charming way of referring to the convenience store three blocks from your building. That, and her sudden demand. Up until this point, she’s been living with you for six months, and with seemingly no intention to ever leave the apartment. So why tonight, at the peak of a heat-wave, a summer day so hot that even the normal relief of nightfall did little to alleviate the humidity and warmth that affected everything, did she decide that she wanted to accompany you to the convenience store?

“Why?” You remember asking her. She didn’t give you a straight answer, but shrugged with all four arms. A very human expression, and something she didn’t do much when she first arrived. Your mind flooded with thoughts about her potential reasoning. 

“I guess even a shut-in of unfathomable power still needs to go out sometime.” You say out loud, without realising it.

“My hearing is much better than you think.” Jam responds coldly. “I am not a shut-in, human.”

“You don’t leave the apartment.”

“Oh? How do you explain us walking down the street?”

By complete technicality, Jam is correct. You wipe the sweat from your brow as you walk down the messy sidewalk, your flip-flops noisily hitting the ground. Lights from corner bodegas guide you to the end of each block. You gaze up at street signs to make sure you’re going the right way. You’ve been trying to cook for your bizarre roommate, so you haven’t actually been to the convenience store in a while. Mostly just the supermarket, after work. Something about the disturbing, toothy, sharp grin Jam gives you after finishing your cooking fills you with warmth. She’s trying her best, so I guess I should, too. 

Cars line the street, even this late at night. Traffic lights and DON’T WALK signs flash around you. Jam seems intrigued at each one. 

“This isn’t how I pictured the city at night, human.”

“How have you never seen the city before…?” You ask, puzzled. She was just squatting in your apartment one day, but come to think of it, you’ve never asked how she got there.

“I’ve always been in your apartment.” She replied.

“What?”

“I’m there in all timelines and times. That means I existed in your apartment before you did. Before the apartment did, even.”

“I don’t get it, but it makes you sound like a ghost.” You respond with a chuckle, hitting the button on the pedestrian signal. Effortlessly, Jam snaps her fingers and the signal turns to WALK instantly.

“Could a ghost do that?” She responds proudly. You didn’t realize it till now, but Jam is wearing your sneakers. Your favorite pair of hi-tops, actually. She’s wearing your shorts and a t-shirt from your room, too.

They look cuter on her.

However, this does mean that she’s becoming bolder. Ever since the air conditioner incident, you’ve found Jam acting rather odd. One night, after work, you walked in on her with her face buried in your bedsheets. Upon confronting her, she snapped her head up at you, her ears twitching and turning red, along with her freckled face. With an almost feline-like hiss, she rushed past you and into her room. At first you thought she was mocking you and how you had become intoxicated with her strange, otherworldly scent, but looking back, you realize she’s not really as nuanced as to do something like that.

This means that she’s been in your room again since then. Not only that, but she’s outright stolen your clothes.

But they do look cuter on her.

The glow from the bodega sign on the corner illuminates Jam’s face. She’s staring straight ahead, focused on something across the street, barely visible under a fading streetlamp. All the other streetlamps on the block ahead are disabled, save for that one. Her skinny frame lets out a visible shudder.

“I’m going to pet that cat, human.” She proclaims in as excited a tone as she can manage, breaking away from you, and crossing the street with speed uncharacteristic for her laziness.

You jog after her, flip-flops scraping the concrete. The countdown on the pedestrian signal is at five seconds.

By the time you get across the street, the signal is still at five seconds. Jam is under the lone streetlight, so far ahead of you at this point that you almost lose sight of her. She’s squatting in front of a black cat and petting it with all four hands. 

From this far away, her normally tall and ribby figure takes on a strange and horrifying form, morphing before your eyes. Her entire body looks like a giant maw, engulfing the cat. You quickly shake your head, and realize your approach has slowed. Some kind of survival instinct kicked in, and you completely stopped moving towards Jam. Your eyes regain their focus as you snap out of your trance.

But Jam’s not a threat to me, right? 

You pick up the pace and reach her quickly, the sweat forming on your brow more intense than before. You aren’t sure if it’s nervousness or some kind of fear.

“Jam!” You approach, and the cat hisses, and runs away. Jam turns to you, very clearly unhappy.

“You scared off Reginald.”

“Why did you name that cat?”

“He told me his name, human.”

Disregarding the fact that she knows cat-speak, you quickly grab one of her hands without thinking twice. 

“What did I tell you about pulling out all four arms in public?”

“It’s 2:30, and the streets are empty.”

“And what if someone sees you?”

“Oh, I get it, human. You want me all to yourself?” Jam says haughtily, pushing up her huge, circular spectacles with one finger on the bridge.

“I really have to find out what anime you’re watching.” You respond, attempting to seem nonplussed. Your cheeks are a little red, but you doubt she notices.

“You’re still holding my hand, you know.”

“Yes, and we’re going to keep it that way until we get to the convenience store.”

“You mean the combini?”

“Y...yeah. The combini.” You reply in defeat.

Jam nods in approval, and you continue your walk down the street, moonlight shining down on the dark sidewalk. Eventually, Jam’s hand gets sweaty, so you try to release your grip. Instead, she tightens her own hand around yours. Her surprising strength locks your hand in place.

“You said you’d hold it until we got the combini.”

Is this a sign of affection? Is she just taunting you? You look at her, puzzled. She yanks you towards her as you walk, and you stop right as you’re about to ask why, because you notice you almost walked into a traffic pole.

“Thanks.”

She nods at you.

A few hundred feet away lay your destination. Jam excitedly takes the lead and drags you along. She’s clearly taking your declaration to hold her hand seriously. Seriously enough to enforce it herself. You can feel the excitement running through her body as she runs down the block. All the streetlights suddenly turn on at once, a few emitting sparks as she passes underneath them. Your heart is pounding fast. All the strange things happening tonight were because she was feeling off?

“Ah! Human! We’re here!” Jam yells out.

“Yeah, we are.” You say, still trying to pull your hand from hers. She hasn’t let go yet. She doesn’t even notice you trying to pull away.

“Ah, but… wait.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“This isn’t Lawson, Human.”

“Well, I could’ve told you that, Jam.”

“Then why didn’t you!?” Jam looks at you, a little betrayed. You aren’t sure why.

“Because there are no Lawson convenience stores i-”

“Combini.”

“Because there’s no Lawson combini in America. It’s a Japanese company.

Jam’s smile drops and is replaced by a pursing of her thin lips.

And then, another smile.

A more sinister, scheming smile.

“I can change that.” She says, her yellow eyes showing their unnatural glow, and her sharp teeth catching the moonlight briefly.