Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/2912051600327232539
Whoever first designed the heart symbol must never have seen a real heart muscle.
It’s far too perfectly symmetrical. A real heart is just a bloody, lump of muscle, thick and misshapen, with the left ventricle bulging out.
I think using that beautiful symbol to convey affection is a grave betrayal of medicine.
It was past 2 a.m. in the park. Sitting on a bench, I stared at the “Like” heart icon on my smartphone screen and pondered the hypocrisy of humanity.
“…Hey, what have you been muttering to yourself about? It’s kind of creepy.”
From a distance of 15 centimeters, Shizuku gave me a sidelong glance while sipping her super-sweet cocoa.
“I was pondering the nature of love.”
“That’s not a topic to be thinking about in a park in the middle of the night. And honestly, it’s creepy.”
“Then let me ask you this: if someone you had feelings for sent you an anatomically precise illustration of a heart with the aorta and coronary arteries drawn in realistic detail, would you be happy?”
“I’d block them immediately and look up the number for the police hotline.”
“I figured. Which means humanity loves beautifully stylized lies more than grotesque truths. So-called ‘true love’ is fundamentally dependent on fiction.”
“That’s a huge leap… Why do I have to listen to such a complicated theory just for drinking some cocoa?”
Shizuku exhaled with a look of exasperation and set the cocoa can down on the bench.
That was when it happened.
“Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzzzzzz—”
Inside my jeans pocket, my smartphone began vibrating as if it were having a seizure.
It wasn’t just one or two notifications. Like worker bees receiving a simultaneous command from their queen, the vibration motor kept spinning nonstop.
“…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe my phone detected a local fault line shift?”
“Isn’t it just a call? Answer it already, it’s annoying.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped the screen.
Instantly, the LCD light illuminated my face. And there, an extraordinary scene unfolded before me.
From the top of the screen, pop-up notifications were cascading down like a waterfall.
“Your post has been shared.”
“〇〇 liked your post.”
“〇〇 replied to your post.”
The numbers on the notification badge were spinning at high speed, like a slot machine, increasing by the digit.
“…It seems the message in a bottle I illegally dumped into cyberspace got caught in a massive deep-sea fishing trawl net.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
Without a word, I turned my phone screen toward Shizuku.
Displayed there was a video of Shizuku dancing that I’d uploaded three days ago using a random account.
The view count counter kept jumping up—10,000, 20,000—even as we watched.
And at the very top was a quote from an influencer with hundreds of thousands of followers, who was likely the catalyst for all this.
[Found a fairy who crash-landed in a park late at night. She’s so cute I don’t even get it. Who is this girl?]
Shizuku stared at the screen without blinking.
Her mouth hanging open, she was completely frozen for several seconds.
Eventually, the empty cocoa can slipped from her hand and rolled across the asphalt with a dry clatter.
“…………Huh?”
“It looks like Shizuku’s traffic directing caught the attention of drivers all over the country.”
“Huh? Whaaaaaaaaaaat!?”
Shizuku’s scream pierced the silence of the late-night park.
She jumped up like a wind-up toy and began shaking my shoulders violently with both hands.
“Minato! Minato! Look at this! The numbers! The numbers are broken!”
“Calm down. My cervical spine isn’t designed to withstand a magnitude 6.5 earthquake.”
“People are watching! So many people are watching me! What do I do? What do I do?”
Still in a panic, Shizuku clung to my arm and pressed her face against the sleeve of my hoodie.
I felt like I could hear her heartbeat through the thick fabric. It was an anatomically correct, clumsy, desperate thud.
“What are we going to do? This is what you wanted, Shizuku. It means tens of thousands of judges evaluated your dance—not just your tongue twisters.”
“Y-yeah…! You’re right. I’m going viral…!”
When Shizuku looked up, her eyes shone brighter than ever before. They sparkled as if reflecting the streetlights, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. That expression was unmistakably that of an ‘idol.’
Feeling a slight tug on my sleeve, I looked down at my phone screen again.
“Too cute,” “I’m shipping her,” “Raw talent discovered.”
Countless unfamiliar icons were pouring out their affection for her. Each one accompanied by a beautiful, symmetrical heart emoji.
“…That’s great for you.”
I said it in my usual, matter-of-fact tone.
Seeing her happy wasn’t a bad thing.
It was just that the light from the countless notifications flickering on the screen seemed to introduce a slight, alienating noise into our dark, quiet front-row seat—a faint sense of unease.
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