When I Repaired a gal's bicycle, she became attached to me V1 Chapter 1

Chapter 1

★★★

A loud clatter rang out, followed by a flustered woman shouting, “Whoa!”

When I turned to look, a woman on a bicycle was about to topple over, bike and all. It seemed she’d lost her balance or her front wheel slipped while trying to get onto the sidewalk from an angle. In any case, she was in a real bind.

The moment I thought, danger, my body moved on its own. I rushed toward the bicycle with a speed I wouldn’t normally be capable of, grabbed the front basket to hold it steady, and managed to tilt it back toward the sidewalk. The woman seemed to have planted her feet on that side, and the bike stabilized.

“A-Are you alright?”

“Thanks, you’re a real lifesaver! I didn’t know you were so fast, Kutsuzawa-kun!”

Hearing her high-energy voice, I finally looked up from the bike to see its owner. Her glittery eyeshadow accentuated her sharp, well-shaped eyes, giving her a slightly intense look. She had a high, well-defined nose and lips colored with a pink that wasn’t too flashy. Three silver barbell piercings gleamed from ear to ear giving off an aggressive vibe.

It was the first time I’d seen her face this close, but she was probably one of the gals from my class. Her name was, I think…

“Dougochi-san, was it?”

“Huh?”

Instantly, the gal raised an eyebrow and glared at me.

Scary.

“I’m Mizoguchi Seika. Dougochi is my friend.”

“Oh, is that so? I-I’m sorry. My apologies.”

Crap. I got her name wrong. I’ve heard on TV and online that small things like this can often escalate into bullying. I just started high school, I have no friends, and if I make an enemy of the gal group that reigns at the top of the class caste, my school life is over.

“And, you are…”

Father, Mother. Please forgive your son for dying before you.

“Huh!? You’re gonna die?”

Mizoguchi-san’s bewildered voice surprised me, too. Looking closely, I didn’t sense that sticky, humid gaze unique to bullies.

“I don’t really get it, but you’re pretty funny… Anyway, I told you my name, why don’t you introduce yourself? It makes me look like an idiot, y’know?”

I wonder if she’s surprisingly concerned about manners. Well, she’s right. It would be a pretty jerk move for me to just walk away after she introduced herself, especially since I got her name wrong.

“Um, I’m Kutsuzawa Kousei.”

“Kou… sei.”

“Ah, the kanji is ‘Kou’ from ‘kenkou’ (health) and ‘Sei’ from ‘ikiru’ (to live).”

Sometimes people read it as Yasuo, but I quite like my name. I was a little curious about the kanji for her first name, Seika, but an elite loner like me asking would probably creep her out.

Whoa. Just ’cause I helped him when he almost fell, he’s already planning to call me by my first name? Gross! Let’s bully this guy.

If something like that happened…

Father, Mother, please forgive your son for dying before you.

“Why’ve you been trying to die every few seconds?”

Mizoguchi-san sounded a little exasperated, but I couldn’t possibly tell her that my paranoid delusions of being bullied by her were going haywire.

In any case, there’s no reason for us to talk anymore. It’s best to leave before I make a bad impression. It’s not like I’ll ever have a reason to call her by her first name in my entire life.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks for the help.”

Maybe Mizoguchi-san isn’t so scary once you talk to her. But, well, it doesn’t really matter. I doubt we’ll have anything to do with each other again…

—Clank!

I turned back at the strange noise and saw Mizoguchi-san trying to move her bike. It wouldn’t budge, as if it were nailed to the spot.

“Ugh, seriously?! Looks like the chain came off!”

Ah, right. I take it back. Looks like we’ll have a little more to do with each other.

“Um, well… should I fix it?”

“For real?! You can fix it?”

She looked at me with sparkling eyes, so I just said, “Probably,” as a precaution and went back to her side.

I put the kickstand down and inspected the bike. Looking at the rear wheel, the grimy chain had come off cleanly to the outside. I stood up, took the handlebars, and shifted the gear to one.

I took work gloves out of my bag and put them on. Then, I fit the loose chain onto the outermost, smallest gear on the rear wheel. I pulled the slack part taut toward the handlebars and fit it onto the front gear under the saddle so that the teeth would mesh. While gently pulling the chain with one hand, I slowly turned the pedal backward with the other. It made a normal clattering sound as it spun, and just like that, it was done.

“Whoa! You’re a god, Kutsuzawa-kun.”

If this makes me a god, then all the bike shops in town are shrines.

“Hey, hey, can I post this on Twista?”

Looking over, Mizoguchi-san seemed to have been recording a video at some point. Her fingers, adorned with nail art that looked like scattered flower petals, were busy tapping away at her phone.

“Umm…”

“I didn’t get your face in it. Plus, it’s my private account, so it’s all good, right?”

I wasn’t sure what was “all good” about it, but when she pressed me with, “It’s okay, right?” I couldn’t help but nod. It’s the fate of us gloomy types to be unable to refuse when the popular kids are pushy. I feel pathetic, but it’s probably just an account followed by her friends, so only they will react to it. It shouldn’t turn into anything weird.

“Ah, crap. Wrong one. Oh well, it’s all good, right?”

I feel like she just muttered something pretty unsettling. No, it’s fine, it’s fine. There’s no way a video of someone fixing a bike could turn into anything weird. I hate how worrisome and weak-willed I am.

Oh well. This time for sure, it’s time to retreat.

“Well, I’ll be going now. The chain’s pretty old, so you might want to replace it when you have the chance.”

I offered one last piece of advice and made my dashing getaway.

…Or I was supposed to.

“Is your house nearby, Kutsuzawa-kun?”

It seems we were heading in the same direction, so Mizoguchi-san just followed me. She was struggling to match my walking pace, sometimes pedaling slowly, sometimes pushing the bike. I’ve heard that popular guys match their pace to the girl’s, but that has nothing to do with me. I was trying to subtly hint, “You can go on ahead,” but Mizoguchi-san didn’t get it at all.

“Um, well, it’s within walking distance.”

Seriously, what’s with her? Does she plan on following me house? Scary, scary, scary. What’s her goal? My house is just a humble workshop. There’s nothing valuable, nothing interesting. Don’t tell me she’s going to use her subordinate thugs to take my meager savings and allowance…

“That’s nice. I wanted to move closer to school too, but it was all so sudden I didn’t have time to look around.”

“So if you call them, will like, twenty guys show up?”

If that happens, my family’s workshop won’t stand a chance. It’s mostly just my grandpa working there, anyway.

“Eh? Um, I don’t think I’d need that many. It’s a small apartment, y’know? I think there were about four?”

“Four. You’re saying that’s all you need.”

“Yeah, well… they’re all pretty buff, so that should be enough, right?”

“Buff!?”

“You scared me. What’s gotten into you?”

Father, Mother, your son—

“Enough with that already.”

Mizoguchi-san cut off my catchphrase.

A short silence followed. I could see the entrance to the alley where I turn right off the main street. It’s a residential area where many locals live, and further in, there’s a district with a few small workshops clustered together. One of which was my home.

“Um. I’m going that way… so, see you.”

“Huh. I’ve never been this way before. Well, I just moved here for high school, so I don’t really know anywhere else either.”

“Umm.”

Is this girl for real? Is she really going to follow me? I seriously hope she doesn’t have any shady plans. What should I do? Should I try to shake her off? Maybe pretend I forgot something at school. Yeah, that’s a good idea.

And then,

“…Guess it’d be annoying if I followed you all the way home, so I’ll stop here. See ya. Seriously, thanks for today.”

Before I could act on my plan, Mizoguchi-san backed off. Maybe she could tell from my face that I was annoyed. What if this leads to bullying… no, I should stop thinking like that. Just imagining a bad future is only going to depress me.

In the end, she gave a little wave behind her back and rode off on her bike.

“I’m exhausted.”

I ended up talking for so long with someone I usually avoid even making eye contact with. I want to get home and relax.

☆☆☆

I’m not trying to brag, but I’m one of the most, if not the most, conspicuous people in my class.

After all, I’m blessed with good looks. I’m currently working as a reader model, and the agency I’m with has even offered to help me become a professional after I graduate high school. I’m also proud of the effort I put in to stay beautiful, like studying makeup and fashion, exercising to maintain my figure, and so on.

I tend to draw a pretty clear line with guys, so I don’t have any romantic rumors, or rather, I’ve never even had a boyfriend. But whether it’s guys or girls, there’s usually always someone around me at school. Calling myself “popular” sounds kinda whatever, but that’s basically what it is.

It’s not like I’m trying to charm every single guy out there, but there was only one boy in class who I don’t remember ever making eye contact with. Kutsuzawa Kousei. I only learned his first name today, though.

The so-called normie guys in class try to get close to me, either out of ulterior motives or because they want the status of being a gal’s friend. And even the loner-type guys, while putting on an “I’m not interested in your kind” act, still sneak glances at me. But Kutsuzawa-kun is the real deal. During breaks, he’s either absorbed in writing something in his notebook or looking something up on his phone. He’s basically a loner, but there’s no tragic air about him; he just seems completely immersed in his own world. Once, I snuck up behind him to see what he was writing, and it was seriously amazing. Is it called drafting? The page was filled with some kind of blueprint, and the way he added new, machine-like precise lines was like magic.

Ever since then, I’ve been completely intrigued by Kutsuzawa-kun. My excuse is that I’m studying the behavior of a guy who isn’t captivated by me to find out why.

My job doesn’t directly require me to flirt with guys. Nearly 100% of the magazine’s reader base is female. But even if I have zero interest in being popular with guys myself, when I think about the readers who use my outfits and makeup as a reference, some of them want to be popular or have someone they want to impress. Considering that, I can’t completely ignore the male perspective.

So, it’s investigation and research. Even if I come up with such a self-serving excuse, in the end, I think I was captivated by that beautiful blueprint, by the fluid, sophisticated movement of the fingers that created it, and by the profile of his face, completely oblivious to my gaze. There was a world there. A world I didn’t know. Maybe I just wanted to see a little bit of it.

That’s why…

“I’m here.”

After we parted ways, I immediately parked my bike on the side of the road, secretly followed him on foot, sneaking so I wouldn’t be seen, and arrived at Kutsuzawa-kun’s house.

This is sobad. I’m definitely a stalker.

There’s no room for excuses. If a cop questioned me right now, I’m confident I’d be a stuttering mess.

But. I also think I’m glad I came.

Kutsuzawa-kun’s house was a small workshop. The sign, rusted red at the edges, read “Kutsuzawa Workshop” in large letters, with a phone number below it. Words indicating their business, like “woodworking” and “resin.” Below that, a wooden sign was nailed on as if hanging, reading, “We also make custom furniture.” Wait, what’s that symbol?

The residence seems to be next to the workshop, and the workshop’s shutter is down. But there seem to be employees inside; I can hear a high-pitched whirring sound from a window left open for ventilation. On the second floor of the house, I looked up and saw a shadow moving behind the curtain.

Maybe he’s changing? No, no. This is beyond stalking; this is perverted.

I should go home for today. If Kutsuzawa-kun finds me, it’ll be so awkward I could die. Then I’d have to say it too. Father, Mother, forgive your daughter’s impiety~ or something.

“Hehe.”

He was surprisingly interesting to talk to.

“Kou, sei. Kutsuzawa Kousei. Could it really be…”

★★★

The next morning when I got to school, the classroom was a buzz. Normally I wouldn’t pay it much mind, but today I had a bad feeling. I asked the quiet girl in the seat next to me, Yokokura-san, who I talk to occasionally, what was going on.

“Apparently, a boy suddenly appeared on Mizoguchi-san’s work Twista account, and everyone’s in an uproar. They’re saying she’s never once tweeted about anything guy-related before.”

“…”

Let’s just wait. It’s not confirmed that it’s me. But when Yokokura-san showed me her phone screen, I felt my consciousness fade.

There was the video of me fixing Mizoguchi-go, and a caption mixed with emojis that said, ‘A guy from my class fixed it for me. Isn’t it crazy how easily he fixed it? I seriously admire him.’ It probably didn’t mean much, but there was a heart mark at the end of the sentence, and it was pulsing regularly.

That’snot good. It shouldn’t be moving.

“I wonder if he’s her boyfriend?”

This is extremely bad. With her never having tweeted about guys before, it’d be impossible not to read into this. That “admire” is the god-like kind, meaning a feeling towards someone who easily did something she couldn’t, as if he were a god. It’s completely different from romantic admiration. But it’s not like I can go around explaining that.

“Are you okay? You look pale, Kutsuzawa-kun.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Just feel like my breakfast might come back up.”

“I think most people would call that ‘not okay’.”

Yokokura-san furrowed her brow and gave me a worried look. She’s such a nice person, even though we only talk a little now and then. Meanwhile, ignoring us, the classroom became even more chaotic.

“Hey, you got a 5 in arts and crafts back in elementary school, right?”

“Huh? Arts and crafts have nothing to do with bikes, do they? Besides, if I were really Mizoguchi’s boyfriend, I would’ve been bragging about it a long time ago.”

“True. But it says he’s in our class, so he’s definitely in here.”

“The guys are so desperate. Gross.”

This isn’t good. This is not good. A witch hunt is about to begin. Is this what the students who will carry the future of our law-abiding nation should be doing? It’s deplorable. Anyway, I need to erase my presence somehow. If they call me out on this, I might really have to commit that impiety of dying before my parents.

Just then, the classroom door was thrown wide open. Her bright, ash-gray medium-length hair, like silver, swayed gently, and the boys’ gazes were drawn to her as if on a string. I was watching too. Though I’m sure my expression wasn’t as giddy as theirs.

No, wait. Surely even she can read the room, right? The atmosphere is a little weird, but she’s still attending a college-prep school. She didn’t seem dumb either.

Please, I’m begging you. As long as she doesn’t say anything unnecessary, there’s no way I can get caught in this witch hunt.

“Oh! Kutsuzawa-kun! Thanks for yesterday. My bike’s running super smooth. It’s like brand new.”

“……”

Ah~ the sound of a lostcause~

After that.

Mizoguchi-san explained the situation to the whole class, and somehow, I managed to get through it without incident. An elite loner like me and her are just too different, so they believed that we really just met by chance and I happened to help her.

Well, in any case, this means I can go back to my normal life. She has no reason to interact with me anymore, and the same goes for me. The rest of the class will probably forget about this by next week.

That’s what I thought, but.

“Kutsuzawa-paisen, what do you usually do for lunch? I’ll treat you to say thanks for yesterday. Hehe.”

She’s using that weird senpai-slang. I mean, it’s amazing how she can talk to someone she just met yesterday like this.

No, seriously, I’m not being sarcastic. I really feel like people like her are the ones who make communities go ’round.

“I, um, brought a bento, so…”

“Eh? Kutsuzawa-kun… was it? You can cook?”

The one who popped up from beside Mizoguchi-san was a stylish girl with a two-toned black and pink bob cut. She was the one who was always with Mizoguchi-san. The one I mistook her for at first. So,

“This time it’s Dougochi-san, for real?”

“What do you mean, ‘for real’!? Did you meet an imposter or something!?”

I blurted out something weird. Mizoguchi-san burst out laughing, clapping her hands like she was applauding.

And so, I ended up having lunch with them. The Japanese is a bit weird, but it expresses my honest feelings.

The desks around me were connected one after another, and in no time, we became a large group. By the way, Yokokura-san from the next seat had made a swift retreat. I get it. I totally get it. You were overwhelmed by the normie aura

I would’ve done the same if I could’ve.

“Wow, this is amazing. Tamagoyaki, karaage, and is this a tuna and cucumber mayonnaise salad? Is that flaked horse mackerel on the rice?”

“It’s Atka mackerel. Do you cook, Sonoda-san?”

Another person who joined us was this Sonoda Ria-san. She has brown hair and a much more reserved compared to the other two. She only has one piercing, too. Oh, no, my senses are getting numb.

“Yeah. My boyfriend, you see. He’s always nagging me about home-cooked meals.”

I had a feeling she was popular in a different way from the other two, but she really does have a boyfriend.

“Ria’s the bitch of our group, y’know.”

Mizoguchi-san said in a slightly lower tone, still doing that weird junior-senpai bit. With a sullen face, Sonoda-san retorted, “Shut up, Baki-ver.”

“Baki-ver?”

For some reason, it reminds me of a hard ice pop.

“Short for ‘bakibaki virgin.’ Seika’s the pure one in our group.”

[Note: バキバキ (bakibaki): Onomatopoeia in Japanese. It usually describes something hard, stiff, or cracking. In this context it basically means she’s extra virgin.]

Dougochi-san explained. Wow, amazing. They talk about dirty stuff so casually even with a guy around. This is the top of the caste. Well, it might just be because they don’t see me as that kind of target.

“Shut up. I’ll find real love one day. The kind a bitch could never have.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Mizoguchi-san was lightly dismissed by Sonoda-san. I was starting to fall into the paranoid delusion that all three of them could have any guy they wanted and were looking down on someone like me who’s had a life devoid of girls… but Mizoguchi-san was one of us? I’m saved. But unlike me, who became like this out of necessity, she must have chosen this path herself. She probably has really high standards.

“What about you, Kutsuzawa-kun? Do you have a girlfriend or anything?”

Whoa, a killer pass. If I hadn’t heard Mizoguchi-san’s story, I think my mouth would have gone dry from paranoia, but I feel a little more at ease.

“I’ve never had one either.”

“I see.”

Well, I probably look the part.

“But, Kutsuzawa-kun, you can talk pretty normally, huh?”

“Um… should I be more timid and start dancing?”

“You don’t have to dance, that’s a bit much.”

“I mean, you should talk more. You’re funny. Isn’t it a waste?”

“No, I…”

Honestly, a large part of the reason I can talk to them on equal terms is because I’m in desperation mode. There was no way I could turn down a lunch invitation from three of the top girls in the class; I had no choice but to accept. If I try to be inoffensive to avoid messing up, they might scorn me for being boring. On the other hand, if I make a mistake, they might hate me. No matter what happens, in the end, a bottom-feeder like me is at the mercy of these three goddesses. So I had no choice but to throw caution out the window and let them do as they please.

“I’m more suited to working alone.”

“Working?”

“Ah, um, I make things as a hobby.”

“Oh. So you’re the arts and crafts type.”

“That’s right. I’m an operative.”

“An operative has a different meaning, y’know.”

A pointless exchange.

Everyone’s finished their bentos, and I sensed it was about time to wrap things up. They seemed to think so too, as the three of them stood up in unison and started moving the desks. I helped carry them too.

Just then, a guy came over, a bit forcefully lifted the chair I was about to carry, and joined Mizoguchi-san’s side. She gave him a small “thanks.”

Ah, I remember now. He’s the good-looking guy who sometimes hangs out with this group of three gals. He has smooth, fair skin like a K-pop idol and a trendy hairstyle called a mushroom cut, I think, which gives his whole head a rounded impression.

The handsome guy turned to look at me with a stern expression.

☆☆☆

As soon as the after-school homeroom ended, Kutsuzawa-kun quickly left the classroom. Probably at a level that only I noticed. His loner power is no joke. Chika said it too, he’s funny when he talks, so he should try to interact with his classmates more. It’s already past Golden Week, and the groups in the class have pretty much solidified, so it might be difficult now.

“He could join our group…”

No. That would be even harder. I’m not that dense. I really regret my Twista mistake and mentioning it in class. I had completely forgotten. That when people like us pay attention to loner types, it’s the people around them who get annoying. I guess they don’t want to see someone they consider lower on the caste ladder rise up.

Hah. What a drag. Can’t people be friends with whoever they want? Can’t Kutsuzawa-kun and I be friends? Not because of me, not because of him, but because of some completely unrelated third parties. Thinking about it like that really pissed me off.

“Mizoguchi.”

I turned at the voice. It was the handsome-ish guy with the mushroom hair. Miyasaka. So annoying. I’m walking ahead with a full-on “don’t talk to me” aura, and he just follows me like it’s nothing. So gross. Also, your hair type doesn’t suit a mushroom cut. When are you going to realize that?

“…What?”

“Wanna walk home together? There’s a new takoyaki place in front of the station. What do you say? My treat.”

“No thanks. I have no reason to be treated by you.”

I said it as curtly as possible and then headed for the bike racks without looking back.

I can’t stand them. Guys who have nothing but their looks. I think it’s probably a case of hating my own kind.

Then, for a moment, Kutsuzawa-kun’s face popped into my mind. Being able to draw such amazing blueprints, or rather, just having something he can concentrate on that much, is something I respect.

His own world, huh. I wonder if I’ll ever find mine. Or will I just get by on my looks?

As I started pedaling my bike, for some reason, I turned right in the middle of the straight road home.

Today, the workshop’s shutter was up. Crap, I thought. If an employee I don’t know questions me, I’ll be in a real bind for an excuse. I can’t exactly say I came to stalk their boss’s son.

I’ll just casually ride by on my bike. And I’ll take a little peek inside then. No… this is literally stalker behavior. But I’ve already come this far. Gently. Gently. Weaving back and forth, super slowly.

And then I saw it. Kutsuzawa-kun’s profile, his sweat glistening in the evening sun streaming through the workshop window.

On his work desk, he was carefully running a carving knife over a block of wood again and again. He had a white towel wrapped around his head, his mouth was tightly shut in a straight line, and his eyes were fixed solely on the carving knife and the block of wood in progress.

I held my breath. My bike’s tires had completely stopped spinning, and my feet were planted firmly on the asphalt. I couldn’t look away. I wanted to cut out this scene and take it home with me. The moment I had that stupid thought, I had almost unconsciously taken out my phone and launched the camera.

—Click.

“!? Eh!?”

Kutsuzawa-kun’s eyes widened as if they were about to pop out, and he turned to face me. Oh. Crap.

“M-Mizoguchi-san!? What are you doing? Eh? Huh?”

Well, of course he’d react that way.

“N-No. This isn’t stalking or secretly taking pictures or anything.”

This is bad. No matter how you look at it, I’m a stalker secretly taking pictures.

Seriously, why am I doing this?

“A-Anyway, excuse me for intruding!”

Retreat is my only option. I tried to hurriedly pedal the bike I was still straddling and…

—Clank!

There was a loud noise, and when I fearfully looked at the rear wheel, the chain had come off again.

Ah, yup. It’s over. I’m so embarrassed I can’t even look up.

“Um. For now, I’ll fix the chain… but besides that, could I ask you a few questions?”

As recommended, I sat on a chair in the workshop, and Kutsuzawa-kun got me a drink from the office fridge. A lychee soft drink. Lucky. It’s my favorite. But this is no time for that.

“Um, first, how do you know where I live?”

“Ah, right. The thing is, I just moved from the next town over and I don’t really know the area.”

Think, think. I have to bluff my way through this!

“I wanted to check out this area too. While I was doing that, I found the Kutsuzawa Workshop. It’s an unusual last name, right? So I thought, maybe this is Kutsuzawa-kun’s house?”

“…I see.”

It should make sense. Kutsuzawa-kun doesn’t seem to suspect anything, probably. Time to press my advantage!

“So yesterday, I actually wanted to follow you home to see if it was your house.”

Well, in reality, I pretended to back off because he looked annoyed, and then I stalked him to confirm it.

“Why? Whether this is my house or not, it doesn’t seem to have much to do with you, Mizoguchi-san.”

He’s right about that!

“Well, you know, it makes you curious. Like a crossword puzzle where you can’t check the answers.”

I thought that might be a bit of a stretch, but Kutsuzawa-kun opened his mouth and,

“Ah. I get it. That’s so unsatisfying, isn’t it?”

Yes! He agreed. Maybe he’s into puzzles too.

“Well, putting that aside… why were you peeking in and taking a picture?”

“Ah, that’s…”

Well, yeah. That’s a natural question.

“I just thought it was amazing.”

“Amazing?”

“Yeah. It’s weird for me to say it, since I was the one peeking, but the way you were so focused on what you were doing that you didn’t even notice me.”

“Eh!? You were taking a picture of me!?”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were taking a picture of the thing I was making.”

“Eh!? Oh, ahh.”

So there was that escape route. Ugh, so embarrassing. Is this like saying, “You were so cool, I just had to take a picture”? He’s going to get the wrong idea… no, wait, it’s not the wrong idea.

I operated my phone and selected that image from the gallery. A boy in an old workshop, bathed in the evening sun, facing his creation with an incredibly serious gaze. The silver of the carving knife is captured in a flash of light. It’s beautiful. Kutsuzawa-kun’s face itself is average to slightly above average. But in this picture, he’s truly beautiful. It sounds weird, but it’s probably because his soul is shining. A light that only people who are truly serious about what they love have.

“W-Wait, I’m totally in that picture!? I-I really can’t have you post that…”

Kutsuzawa-kun’s bewildered face. There’s a hint of fear in his expression. Maybe he didn’t want the video of him fixing the bike posted on social media either? And he couldn’t refuse. Everyone around me is the type to speak their mind, so maybe I couldn’t read the room. Plus, I accidentally posted it on my work account, so a lot of people probably saw it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t post this on Twista.”

When I said that, he looked incredibly relived.

Ah, I knew it. That makes sense.

For someone who has his own world and something he’s this engrossed in, spending his days peacefully in the classroom is far more important than getting involved with someone like me.

“…!”

Huh? For some reason, I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest.

“Um… honestly, I’d be happy if you could delete it…”

“Eh?”

No way, I thought, as a gut reaction. I probably won’t be able to take such an emotional picture again. No, it’s not like I’m interested in photography or anything. But even an amateur would feel like they want to keep a good picture, that’s normal, right?

“I won’t use it for anything bad. I swear, for real. It’s a really good picture. Isn’t it a waste?”

“I don’t know about you asking for my consent… If I, the subject of the photo, started saying it’s too good a picture to delete, wouldn’t that be creepy?”

“Ah, yeah. I guess so. So, is it a no-go?”

“…I don’t really get it, but as long as you really don’t post it on social media. And as long as you don’t turn it into a meme or anything.”

“I won’t! What do you think I am?”

I said that, but… I’m a stalker and a secret photographer, and on top of that, I have a record of posting a video on the wrong account. Yeah, if I were in Kutsuzawa-kun’s shoes, I’d be on maximum alert. I’m really sorry, Kutsuzawa-kun. And thank you for letting me keep the photo anyway.

★★★

In the end, I was pushed into allowing her to keep my photo on her phone. I don’t have the guts to firmly demand she delete it… I’m so pathetic.

“Well, I’m going back to my work now.”

“Work.”

I glanced at the block of wood I had just started carving. It’s not like I’m in a hurry, but I figured if I said that, she’d go home. As I thought… I wouldn’t say we’re like water and oil, but I can’t see any compatibility between us. We live in different worlds, I’m sure.

“Hey, hey. What are you making now?”

Seriously? I can’t believe she’s pressing me at this point. Our sense of personal space is just too different. Gals are amazing.

At a loss, I lifted the cardboard box next to me and placed it on the desk.

“Whoa! Awesome! Is this a rabbit? This one’s a frog. Eh, for real? You can make an elephant!? Isn’t that crazy? You’re a living national treasure.”

She’s exaggerating so much over a few wood-carved animals.

“So cool, so cute. They even have eyes. Whoa, whoa. Whoa.”

She picked them up one after another, looking at them from below, poking them from the side. To be honest, it’s good manners to ask the creator before touching their work, since it might be freshly varnished or painted, or waiting for glue to dry. But well, it’s her, so I guess it can’t be helped.

“There’s also Oda Nobunaga.”

“Oda Nobunaga!? In this lineup, Oda Nobunaga!?”

[Note: Oda Nobunaga was a Japanese daimyo during the Sengoku period, known for his ruthless military campaigns and for laying the groundwork for Japan’s unification.]

“This is it.”

I picked it up from another cardboard box. It’s based on what is probably his most famous portrait, the one where he’s sitting with a straight face, so it should be easy to recognize. I carved the details down to the belt of his kimono and gave it a three-dimensional feel.

“It’s really Nobunaga!! LMAO.”

Mizoguchi-san laughed her head off, snapped a picture with her phone, and started flicking at the screen at lightning speed. I had a bad feeling and,

“Mizoguchi-san? You’re not posting that on Twista, are you?”

“Oh! Sorry, you didn’t want me to, right?”

“Well, if possible, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Sorry, I’m really sorry. I already posted it.”

The social media generation is terrifying. They share things as easily as they breathe. She probably, no, definitely doesn’t mean any harm. And that’s precisely why it’s a problem. Maybe I shouldn’t show her the things I’ve made.

“Let me just check. My face and house aren’t in it, right?”

I searched on my phone. Um, her account name is… While I was fumbling, a slender finger reached out from the side and typed in the letters in an instant. Startled, I looked to my side and saw Mizoguchi-san’s face right next to mine. Her sharp eyes and her high, well-shaped nose. Her teeth, peeking out from her smiling lips, were also very beautiful. Ah, when she’s quiet, she’s a real beauty, I thought. I almost found myself captivated and hurriedly moved away.

I composed myself and focused on the phone screen. The top post was the picture of Nobunaga, with the text ‘Nobunaga made by Kutsuzawa-kun. It’s a mystery why he decided to make Nobunaga, but the quality is amazing,’ adorned with a flurry of emojis and emoticons. There was already a reply, from an account named Chika, who was probably Dougochi-san.

Looking at it, there were about ten laughing emoticons lined up. Another reply just came in, this one probably from Sonoda-san, ‘A talent too good to be buried, as expected,’ it said. No, please bury it. There are tons of people who can make stuff like this.

I felt a slight dizziness and turned off my phone. As I was about to put it back in my pocket, Mizoguchi-san protested.

“Whoa, you didn’t even scroll once. You have zero interest in my private life, don’t you?”

Well, I mean, even if I dig through her past tweets, it’ll just be a gallery of her gal lifestyle, and I’d be in a bind if she asked for my opinion.

“This is your private account, right?”

“Yeah. The one I posted on before was my work account.”

“Um. You’re a model, right?”

“Yup. A reader model, to be precise. This one has a lot of followers from outside school too.”

So the video of the bike repair got even more attention.

“Um… are your fans bashing me or anything?”

“Eh? No way. Most of my followers are girls. I think they’re just like, ‘oh, okay.’ Like, ‘she just tweeted about a skillful guy in her class.’”

“That’s a relief. I was worried it would turn into what happened this morning.”

“That was just the guys being stupid, or rather, they just think about everything that way. But I did cause you trouble, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no.”

If you really think so, I wish you wouldn’t tweet about me on your private account either.

“Does… that shiitake mushroom guy know about this private account?”

“Shiitake… you mean Miyasaka! Shiitake!! Ahahaha, I haven’t told him, hahaha.”

Mizoguchi-san burst out laughing again. It’s no laughing matter for me, though. But well, if that’s the case, it probably won’t turn into a hassle. I remember his expression when he cut in after we had lunch together. He’s probably after Mizoguchi-san.

It’s amazing. I can’t comprehend the mentality of being okay with earning the disapproval of your classmates for the sake of love.

While I was thinking about that, Mizoguchi-san seemed to have lost interest in him and was looking at the desk again.

“But still, this is cute, isn’t it?”

“Nobunaga?”

“Cough. Don’t say weird things when I’m about to drink something. I’m talking about the frogs, rabbits, and doggies.”

The word “doggies” was a little healing. She usually seems so rough, but she seems to like dogs.

“I want one, I want to decorate my room with it. So cute. Hint, hint.”

“…Those are already spoken for, so that’s not possible.”

Even if I have trouble going against the popular kids, this is one thing I can’t do.

“I’m giving them to the kids at the children’s home. It’s for an irregular neighborhood association event that many of the local businesses participate in… well, to put it simply, it’s part of a charity activity.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, no.”

She looked so much more dejected than I expected that I was the one who got flustered. But it’s not fair how beautiful people still look pretty even when they’re down.

“If you want, I could make you something else.”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, surprising even me. But…

“Eh? Seriously? You’d do that?”

Her eyes sparkled, and my own shock just… washed away.

“Well, as long as it’s not something too difficult.”

“Whoa, for real? Thanks! Oh, but I’ll pay you. How much would something like that cost?”

Honestly, I never expected her to offer money.

“Ah, I see that look. You thought I was gonna ask for a freebie, didn’t you? I may have a part-time job, but I know how to handle this stuff properly. I was planning on paying from the start.”

“S-Sorry. I was just surprised.”

So she’d been planning this even when she was teasing me earlier. I had seriously, no, majorly misjudged her. I’d even suspected she was some weirdo who collected photos of gloomy guys.

Still, taking money from a classmate felt… awkward. Hmmm.

“In that case… how about you help me out if I’m ever in a pinch?”

“A favor for a favor, huh?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Okay. But none of that ‘be my joint guarantor for a loan’ stuff that’s seriously troubling, ’kay?”

“Hahaha, you mean like in the dramas? Where the small-town factory is riddled with debt, goes bankrupt, and the president hangs himself?”

“That’s not something you should say so cheerfully, you know? Definitely not. You’re really something else.”

Just then, a look of realization flashed across Mizoguchi-san’s face.

“Oh, right! I totally forgot! I was going to treat you to lunch at the school store to thank you for yesterday, but you brought your own, Kutsuzawa-kun, so it all got kinda weird. I still owe you for that.”

“Ah… I kinda figured you eating with me was the thank-you.”

“That’d make us look pretty bad, wouldn’t it?”

Now that she mentioned it, yeah. It would be like, We, the top-tier girls, are gracing a gloomy-ass loser like you with our presence, so be grateful.

“Private Cabaret Club Academy.”

I bet they’d make a killing.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Anyway, this is part of my work, so it is what it is. But yesterday, I just fixed a chain. You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.”

“No way. You seriously saved my butt back then. Besides, like I said, you shouldn’t undersell your skills. For real. I get people like that at my job sometimes—guys who think, ‘You’re just taking pictures,’ or ‘Anyone can have their picture taken, so it should be free.’”

“Ah, that’s awful. Just learning how to use makeup takes a ton of time, and you can’t get beautiful without putting in the effort.”

“Right, right, right?! I can’t believe you get it!”

“Well, I do some painting. And I make dolls and figures, too.”

“Figures…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, no. Yeah, right. That Nobunaga was a doll, too.”

“Oh yeah. I painted the face on that one.”

In any case, if she was going to insist, I might as well accept.

“Then please, treat me to a meal sometime.”

“Okay! Tomorrow it is. Ah, wait, tomorrow’s Saturday. Crap. You got any plans, Kutsuzawa-kun?”

“Nope. I think I’ll finish the stuff for the children’s home today, so I’m free tomorrow.”

“Then let’s meet up tomorrow at eleven in front of exit four of Iwan Mall.”

“Eh?”

Before I could even finish, it was decided.

“Alright, it’s a date! Well, I’m heading home. Sorry for taking your picture without permission. Oh, and thanks for the juice!”

No sooner had she said that, she was out of the workshop, on her bike, and waving as she disappeared down the road. She really was like a storm.

“Man, today was one hell of a day.”

Soaking in the bath, I replayed the day’s events. I’d happened to help Mizoguchi-san yesterday, and thanks to her SNS post, the whole school was buzzing this morning, making me stand out more than I have all year. Then, I had lunch with her and her friends. It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten with anyone at school.

But now I’d gotten on the bad side of that Mushroom-headed guy who’s probably into Mizoguchi-san.

I didn’t want any trouble, so I was planning to keep my distance… and that’s when Mizoguchi-san herself snuck into my house and started taking pictures of me. Looking back, it’s completely absurd, but it really happened, so what can you do?

“I should’ve been more standoffish.”

She was clearly in the wrong, so I could have said something harsh, like telling her to never get involved with me again. But I didn’t. It wasn’t that I was too timid to say it. I think, simply put, I was happy. Not because the most popular girl in class praised me, but because she stared at my work with such sparkling eyes, excited as a little kid.

It reminded me of the girl I’d made a figure for when I was little; she had the exact same look in her eyes. That face, that joy—that’s my starting point. Making things is fun on its own, but that’s not all there is to it. Sharing that joy with someone through my creations makes it even more fun. Mizoguchi-san’s eyes were a perfect reflection of what taught me that.

“A figure, huh. Maybe I’ll try making one again.”

I’ve got my sculpting tools stored away somewhere. I wonder if there’s any aluminum wire at the workshop. Nah, they sell it at the hundred-yen store. As for the paint… what was best again? I’ll look it up later. Ah, no, first I have to make what Mizoguchi-san requested. Though it seems she hasn’t decided yet.

“Kousei~! Mom’s watching her suspense drama from nine, so hurry up and get out!”

My mom’s loud voice cut through my thoughts.

Crap, is it that late already?

I’ve been in here too long. Why do mothers love suspense dramas so much, anyway? Doesn’t she get depressed watching murder cases day in and day out?

☆☆☆

Ughhh, I really did it this time. I invited him out on a whim, and I’m not bragging, but this is the first time in my life I’ve ever gone out with a guy one-on-one. Now that I’ve calmed down, it’s super embarrassing. No… there’s something I should be more ashamed of, like getting caught taking his picture.

I found myself fiddling with my phone, looking at that photo again. It really is beautiful. The sunset, the sweat, his focused eyes that seemed to have forgotten how to blink, and the glint of silver. Kutsuzawa-kun was worried I’d post this on Twista, but even if he hadn’t said anything, I probably, no, definitely wouldn’t. It feels my own special secret.

Like a blacksmith forging a legendary sword, hidden deep in the mountains—it’s no exaggeration to say I felt a sense of mystique from him. Yeah, no point in trying to act cool in my own room. I’ll just admit it.

“I was captivated. I felt like I was being pulled in. And on top of that, it’s for kids at a children’s home? Seriously, what’s with that? Are you trying to kill me with cuteness?”

Even though it was only May, it felt like the middle of the summer, yet I got goosebumps.

“It was there, after all. A world that belongs only to him.”

I’d wandered into it. I was drawn to it.

“…”

I’m still staring at the photo. The towel on his head is so cool. And under his T-shirt, he’s unexpectedly… well, he’s quite muscular, isn’t he? Right. The materials he works with are big and heavy. Helping out at home is probably a hobby for him, but it looks like he’s really into it.

“The difference is kinda depressing.”

I barely even help out around the house, even though I caused my parents so much trouble when I was a kid. Ugh, I’m so useless. I figured it was fine since I earn my own allowance. But Kutsuzawa-kun helps his family’s business and works hard for those kids for free.

I left my room and headed to the kitchen.

“Mom, wanna let me do the dishes for a change?”

“Eh? What’s with you all of a sudden? They’re already done. My suspense drama is on from nine.”

“…”

Tomorrow, I’ll offer as soon as we finish eating.

With that in mind, I returned to my room.

My phone was lit up on my desk.

Oh, right, I don’t have Kutsuzawa-kun’s number. What if he doesn’t show up tomorrow? What if he’s sick? Well, in that case, I’ll just go to his house.

For now, I’ll check the notification. It was a Line from Chika.

“Man, that Kutsuzawa guy is hilarious.”

The message came with a sticker of a bear laughing its head off. The random Nobunaga that popped up on his timeline is totally Chika’s kind of humor. But.

“It’s not just one-off gags like that; he’s funny in everyday conversation too.”

I recalled our exchange at the workshop a few hours ago.

“Ah, I get that vibe. You gonna start hangin’ out with him?”

My hand paused at Chika’s reply. From now on, huh?

“Hmm. Dunno. For now, it’s kinda turned into me treating him to a meal at the mall tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. As a proper thank you for fixing my bike.”

“Heeh. A mall date, huh.”

A date. So, objectively, it’s considered a date. The definition has broadened lately to include parents and kids or friends going out. Still, in this case… a guy and a girl who’ve just met are going to the mall on a weekend. It feels closer to its original meaning.

“This might be nosy of me, but… is that whole thing okay?”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s just a thank-you.”

Besides, and this is just a maybe, but… what if Kutsuzawa-kun is the one… no, I have way too little information. It’s less than a wild guess. I’m probably just seeing a slight similarity because I’m so desperate to find him.

“Hmm. Well, if you say so. Just don’t let your emotions run wild and go all ‘Waaah!’ like you always do, ’kay?”

“Like I would. I’m just treating him to lunch.”

Jeez, Chika. What does she take me for?

“I see. Well, I guess there’s no way you’d go crazy over just a meal. ’Kay, well, you should get some sleep for tomorrow.”

“Yup. Nighty-night.”

I tossed my phone onto the bed and glanced at my closet. Tomorrow… should I try to match Kutsuzawa-kun’s vibe and go with something more subdued? No, that’s a bad idea. I’m just treating a classmate who helped me out. It’s only because Chika said that stupid “date” thing that I’m even thinking about it, which is so not like me. I should just wear what I want. If he’s put off by my fashion, then that’s his problem. On the other hand, if he compliments me… well… yeah… I might be a little happy.

I quickly put together an outfit in my head, the decision made instantly. With that, I lay down and closed my eyes.

★★★

It was 10:45 when I arrived.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to Iwan Mall, so I had to check the directory for exit four. Another five-minute walk. Crap, crap. I went the complete opposite way. 10:52.

When I arrived, Mizoguchi-san was already there. She was wearing a short, black top that showed off her midriff, with some gold English lettering on it. Below, she had on a pair of light, distressed jeans. A white shoulder bag was slung over her shoulder.

Whoa, I don’twanna talk to her. This sucks, she’s scary.

“Ah! Kutsuzawa-kun!”

When she turned, I saw she was even wearing sunglasses. It was a full-on gyaru look. Her ashen-grey hair, almost silver, fluttered as she turned, the ends curled slightly. It gave her a softer impression than usual. Her clothes were gyaru-style, but her hair was soft and fluffy. Is this one of those intentional mismatches? The legendary technique only the most fashionable can pull off.

“Good morning. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Nah, not at all. I just got here myself.”

There wasn’t much room to think about whether this felt like a date. To be blunt, we’re just too different. I doubt anyone would mistake this for a romantic relationship.

“Shall we go?”

“Hey, hey. What do you think of my outfit today?”

Ugh. She’s asking me that? This is one of those questions where I’ll be embarrassed no matter how I answer, isn’t it?

“…It’s gyaru, isn’t it?”

“I know that. I’m asking if it suits me, if it’s cute.”

I didn’t realize we’d progressed to such a perilous battle. I’m still suffering from summoning sickness over here.

“Um, you’re very beautiful, Mizoguchi-san, so I think anything would look good on you.”

“…”

Mizoguchi-san fell silent, looking taken aback, then she smiled a little, shyly. Wha—she’s actually cute. She must be used to hearing that. Does she look this happy every time? No, somehow I feel like that’s not it. It’s like she’s not the type to show her cute side to guys. Even with that Mushroom-head, she just gave a gruff, bare-minimum thank-you. Considering that, her innocent expression at my workshop and this bashful smile might be rare sights.

“Thanks. I think you look nice and casual too, Kutsuzawa-kun.”

I’m just wearing a polo and jeans, an outfit you could find anywhere. I actually agonized over it a bit, but I didn’t want to seem like some delusional guy trying too hard, so I ended up with my usual style.

“I’m glad. I was debating between this and a Nobunaga-print shirt.”

“A Nobunaga print?! I’d love to see that, but yeah, today’s not the day. For sure.”

Chatting amicably, we passed through the mall’s automatic doors. “Ahh, it’s so cool,” Mizoguchi-san said, spreading her arms.

We walked around for about ten minutes, and I didn’t get any of the stares I was worried about. I thought people might compare our unbalanced pairing and look at me with scorn. I was overthinking it. There are all sorts of people at the mall; no one’s bored enough to pry into other people’s relationships. My inferiority complex is so bad it’s made me self-conscious. It’s probably proof that I, more than anyone, feel unworthy of walking beside Mizoguchi-san. Well, in reality, if she didn’t feel indebted to me, we’d never be strolling through a place like this.

“What should we do? Wanna go to the arcade first?”

“No, I’m not really into pachinko.”

“What do you take me for? I’ve never even been in that section.”

Why do they even have pachinko and slot machines in an arcade, anyway?

“Let’s get some purikura.” (Japanese photo booths)

“Catch some buri? With a set net…” (Fishing arcade)

“Hahaha. I’m gonna send you flying.”

“My apologies.”

Did I push my luck? To be honest, I really don’t want to. That machine is the definition of a popular kid hangout. But Mizoguchi-san, ignoring my inner turmoil, grabbed my wrist and started pulling me along.

Whoa. A girl’s hand is tiny. While I was thinking that, I was dragged into the mall’s arcade.

A few minutes later, Mizoguchi-san was looking at the printout…

“Hee-hee, haah, oh my god. I’m laughing so hard my stomach’s gonna cramp.”

What she’s laughing at is, of course, my purikura picture. It was my first time, and I was more nervous than in an ID photo booth. On top of that, she was egging me on, saying, “Come on, smile, smile,” so I forced a smile that turned out incredibly awkward. If it had ended there, it would’ve just been a picture of me looking nervous.

“What am I supposed to do with this picture of me looking totally high? I don’t want it.”

“Stop, don’t say that right now. Aha, hahahahaha.”

Right. With that weird smile plastered on my face, the machine only made my eyes look big and doll-like, turning my face into something monstrous. Overriding my objections, Mizoguchi-san, laughing hysterically, pushed the print button.

And here we are. This two-shot of a tragic monster and a beautiful woman is a complete waste of paper.

“Come on, let’s go. It’s almost noon, so even if we line up now, it’ll take a while.”

The mall was crowded on a Saturday. I don’t even want to imagine the wait for a popular restaurant. As a loner, I’m already feeling overwhelmed. I feel bad for Mizoguchi-san, but I want to eat and go home.

“Wait, wait. One more time. A serious one this time. Without all the effects.”

“If that’s the case, wouldn’t your phone camera be fine?”

“Mmm. Purikura is something you take to commemorate becoming friends with someone.”

Friends. Is it okay for me to consider us friends? I don’t even have any gloomy friends, and suddenly I have a gyaru friend? The order of things feels as messed up as storming the demon king’s castle while the towers of the four heavenly kings are still standing.

“…Alright. This time, please don’t waste any more paper.”

And so we took a second one. Mizoguchi-san put her arm around my shoulder, which made me jump. The improper thought of her chest pressing against me flashed through my mind, but she had her bag slung over that shoulder, subtly guarding herself. I see. So she’s a gyaru, but she’s the pure-hearted type.

Leaving the arcade, we decided to get lunch for real this time.

The restaurants were too crowded, so we went to the food court. Well, this place was packed too.

“Which one should we choose?”

I subtly searched for the cheapest-looking place. There was a ‘Hanakara Udon.’ That one’s good, I said, pointing. Then Mizoguchi-san seemed to notice my reservation.

“You can pick a more expensive place, you know. I’m earning a bit, after all.”

She said. But I actually had another reason besides holding back.

“No. We won’t have to wait with that one.”

At other places, you get a buzzer and wait. But at ‘Hanakara,’ you take a tray, order, get your udon, pick up some tenpura, and head to the register. It’s a lot faster.

“I see. Then let’s go with that.”

Mizoguchi-san didn’t have to go along with me, but she lined up with me. It was a hot day, so I chose cold udon. She recommended I get some tempura too, so I picked the soft-boiled egg tempura.

“Ooh, soft-boiled egg. Good choice.”

“Yeah. You got the chicken tempura, Mizoguchi-san? That’s healthy.”

We made small talk while waiting for the register, and then it was our turn.

“We’ll pay together.”

When Mizoguchi-san pointed at both my tray and hers, the young male cashier looked a little surprised. Well, yeah. A beautiful gyaru treating a plain, gloomy guy like me. It makes you wonder about our relationship.

Having finished our meal, we were lazing around in our chairs. Mizoguchi-san took out what looked like a purikura album from her bag and started putting away our pictures. I got half of them too, but honestly, I don’t know what to do with them.

“Ah, right, right. I totally forgot, but let’s exchange numbers.”

Mizoguchi-san said, holding out her phone. Surprisingly, it wasn’t all blinged out. It was simple, with just a ring on it.

“Ah, okay.”

“Last night, I was thinking, if you hadn’t come, Kutsuzawa-kun, I would’ve had to go all the way to your house. That’s super inconvenient, you know?”

“Ah. I wouldn’t just stand you up.”

The aftermath would be scary.

“But I was pretty forceful when I invited you, right? I thought you might not be able to make it.”

If you’re aware of it, I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop.

Anyway, we exchanged numbers and Line addresses.

“Bridging the stars.”

“Ah, the kanji, right. Right, right, like Star Bridge.”

“Bridging the stars.”

That phrase sounds familiar somehow.

“…What’s wrong?”

“No. It’s nothing. It’s a nice name.”

“…Thanks.”

Mizoguchi-san gave me a quizzical, probing look. But in the end, I couldn’t figure out what was bugging me.

After lunch, we ended up wandering around the mall. It seemed she didn’t have any particular plans, so she might be bored if she went home.

As for me, I couldn’t just leave right after being treated; that would feel like I was just using her. Besides, while I hate crowds, I’ve gotten used to Mizoguchi-san. She’s not a bad person. The SNS incident and being secretly photographed were a huge turn-off, but she’s still not a bad person. She’s a person who honors her obligations.

“Can we check out some accessory shops?”

“Is there something you want to buy?”

“Nah. I still haven’t decided what to ask you to carve, Kutsuzawa-kun. Just looking for ideas.”

If she found something cute, it seemed like it would be faster to just buy it. But then again, wood carvings are pretty rare.

I nodded and followed her as we window-shopped.

“Ah, that one-piece is pretty nice, isn’t it?”

“Even if you ask me…”

I don’t know anything about girls’ fashion. And weren’t we supposed to be looking at accessory shops? She was completely fixated on a girls’ fashion store. Well, I guess it’s part of her job.

“A model, huh.”

“Hm? Are you interested? Wanna apply too, Kutsuzawa-kun?”

“Wha—?! Harsh joke. That’s not what I meant… I just thought, you really like clothes.”

“Yeah. Well, I do like them.”

“Is it your calling?”

“I wonder. If anything, your craftsmanship, Kutsuzawa-kun, seems more like a calling.”

“Ah, there’s no doubt about it. I’m happiest when I’m making something.”

“It’s cool that you can say that so confidently.”

“Can’t you, Mizoguchi-san?”

“My ‘like’ is… I wonder if it’s my number one? I can’t help but feel like I’m just doing it because I have a good face and figure, because I was born with better assets than others.”

The way she said it, like she was talking about someone else, was probably because she hadn’t quite grasped her own feelings yet.

Before we knew it, we were sitting on a bench in the middle of the mall’s walkway.

“Still, you’re pretty open about having a good face and figure.”

“Mmm, a cute girl, the kind guys like, would probably say, ‘Oh, that’s not true~,’ but I hate that. If you’re pretty, you’re pretty. What’s wrong with that?”

She’s right. A flattering humility wouldn’t suit her.

“Do you also think I’m not cute, Kutsuzawa-kun?”

“I don’t know if you’re not cute, but I prefer your way of thinking, Mizoguchi-san.”

“S… anks.”

She thanked me brusquely, pouting. I think it’s cuter when she shows this side of herself. She’s usually so assertive, but she’s surprisingly shy.

“Don’t stare!”

Apparently, I was grinning without realizing it. She pushed my cheek, her nail digging in. Is it a nail tip? It’s surprisingly soft. Mizoguchi-san gave a deliberately loud cough and changed the subject. If I teased her, we’d never get anywhere, so I kept quiet.

“Kutsuzawa-kun, were you always good at making things?”

“Of course not. I cut my hands a ton. My lines were all wobbly. It was all trial and error.”

“Right? I was pretty good at makeup from the start. Even if I made a few mistakes, my natural face already looks good, so it never looked that bad… Basically, it’s not something I’ve continued to do out of frustration from failure.”

“You mean the level of seriousness is different?”

“Yeah. If you ask me if I’ve poured my passion into it, wanting to get better even after being knocked down like you, Kutsuzawa-kun, then the answer is no.”

“For example, if you had poor skin texture from birth and makeup didn’t apply well, would you not have tried so hard?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Definitely. I would’ve used natural makeup and sloppy fashion as an excuse, pretending I wasn’t trying, and run away. I’m that kind of lame person.”

“…Hmm. I think that’s fine, though. There are plenty of things I run away from too. It’s just that I happened to find something I could be passionate about early on. For other fields I’m not interested in, I don’t want to put in even a bit of effort.”

I smiled at her.

“There’s no need to rush. You might find something else you like, or you might come to love modeling more in a flash. We’re still just high school students, after all.”

I thought it might have sounded a bit preachy, but seeing Mizoguchi-san’s relieved smile, I felt relieved too. I don’t like seeing someone as cheerful as her looking down.

☆☆☆

Without either of us saying anything, the atmosphere turned to one of departure, and we returned to exit four.

But man, I really opened up. I ended up whining like a spoiled brat. This is so not like me. But Kutsuzawa-kun tried his best to cheer me up. I got anxious after blurting it all out, thinking he might be disillusioned, but that wasn’t the case at all.

He’s kind, isn’t he? Seeing me down, he had such a worried look on his face that my heart felt lighter. And strangely, just as he said, I became a little more optimistic, thinking I should just keep going without rushing.

Maybe I’ll find something else I like, or maybe the moment will come when I truly think of modeling as my calling.

“Well then, thank you for the meal today.”

“Yeah. No, it feels like I was the one you were keeping company with, what with the window shopping… and the life advice.”

“Not at all. I had fun today.”

“I see. Hearing you say that makes me glad I invited you.”

“All that’s left is the wood carving. Let me know when you’ve decided. I can make an Imagawa Yoshimoto right away, or even in his burial robes if you’d like.”

“Um, about that.”

He started saying something ominous, so I hurriedly cut him off. This guy really has no respect for Sengoku warlords. Does he have a grudge or something? No, that doesn’t matter right now.

I take a deep breath in and out, psyching myself up.

“It’s from a kind of old anime. ‘Magical Girl Magical ☆ Crusaders.’ There’s a character in it called Kururu-chan.”

I took a gamble, the kind where you’re prepared to jump off the stage of Kiyomizu. It’s too hasty, and it probably would have been better to get closer first, but I really want to know for sure. After seeing him get hung up on the kanji in my name, I just can’t stop hoping.

[Note: “to jump off the stage of Kiyomizu” (清水の舞台から飛び降りる) is a famous Japanese idiom meaning to take a leap of faith or make a bold, risky decision.]

And as for Kutsuzawa-kun…

“Ah, there was an anime like that. I think I made one a long time ago. A figure, though.”

The reason he’s not using polite language is probably because he’s recalling his past. But I couldn’t care less about his tone; my vision was flickering with excitement. Did I win the gamble? Is Kutsuzawa-kun really Kou-chan?

“I was really into making figures back then, so I made a lot of different things. I think there was a character named Kururu in there…”

Calm down. It’s not confirmed yet. Just one more step.

“H-Heh. What did you do with the figure you made?”

“Eh? Ah, I think… I gave it to someone. Wasn’t it a kid who was in the hospital?”

“!”

Seriously? It’s for real. Kou-chan. It really was Kou-chan. I finally found him. No, I really didn’t think I’d ever see him again. Of course, I moved here hoping that would happen, but I was more than half resigned to it being impossible. And yet. I found him. Maybe I should go stuff ten thousand yen into the offertory box of the shrine I prayed at. What is this feeling? I want to pump my fist in the air.

“Kou-cha—”

“As for the figures, the first one I gave away, a boy named Meguru, was super happy about it. That made such a strong impression that I don’t really remember the other people.”

…Huh?

“Well, it was almost ten years ago, so it can’t be helped if I don’t remember, haha. So, um, I should make that Kururu character, right?”

“…don’t want it.”

“Eh?”

“I don’t want it! You idiot, Kou-chan!”

I was so sad and hurt that before I knew it, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I ran off at full speed towards the bicycle parking area, unlocked my bike, and jumped on it. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m such an idiot. It was just me… I was the only one who cherished it…

“!!”

As I started pedaling, the bike accelerated rapidly. Ignoring the lactic acid building up in my knees, I just pedaled frantically until I got home. Mom was still at work. Perfect. I wanted to be alone.

I lay face-up on my bed, staring at the ceiling and sobbing. And as I cried, I remembered the first time I met Kou-chan.

……………………..

…………….

……

I was really frail when I was a kid and spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital, which meant I had almost no friends at school. It was a lonely childhood. My emotional support during that time was anime. I’m not as into it now, but back then, I watched a lot of different genres.

Among them, magical girl shows were my favorite. I guess that means I had the sensibilities of a typical little girl. Thanks to my dad’s streaming subscription, I watched a considerable amount. And as I was binge-watching, I came across a girl who particularly caught my eye: Kururu-chan, from ‘Magical Girl Magical ☆ Crusaders.’

Just like me, she was frail and frequently hospitalized, but her abilities as a magical girl were by far the best in the series. She would always push herself to rush to the other girls’ aid when they were in a pinch, then collapse again after the battle was over.

To be honest, I really looked up to her. Not for the romance of being the tragic, strongest character… but for the strength of her heart.

If I felt even a little unwell, I had to go to the hospital again. Back then, I hated that more than anything. And yet, Kururu-chan could accept such an inconvenience for someone else’s sake. She might have had a pretty big influence on my life. I came to respect people who could act for others, even at the cost of sacrificing something of their own. That hasn’t changed.

One day, while I was living like that—I think it was right after I entered the second grade of elementary school—my classmates apparently organized an event where volunteers would give me some kind of gift because I couldn’t come to school often. I heard about it from Chika, who brought me a pin badge. That’s how we became friends, and we’ve been hanging out ever since.

I remember a few other girls gave me small items too. Since it was voluntary, there weren’t many people, but they all used their own pocket money to give me presents. I’m nothing but grateful. In fact, though I haven’t talked with most of them recently, they were such kind kids that I genuinely hope they’re happy.

Even with just that, I was incredibly grateful, but there was one final, biggest surprise. They said there was a gift from the only boy. I was shocked. Led by my homeroom teacher and a few girls, a boy came. He seemed quiet, his clothes were plain, and there was nothing particularly eye-catching about his appearance.

As soon as the boy saw me, he said,

“I’ll make you something, anything. Just tell me what you like best.”

It was something I had never even imagined, and I froze.

“Kou-chan is really good with his hands, you know. And he’s practiced a looot, so he can make anything!” one of the girls told me.

“Anything?”

“Yeah! He made me a Ripple-chan. Look.”

She showed me her phone screen. Ripple-chan was a character that was like a half-cat, half-human, from the sequel to ‘Magical ☆ Crusaders,’ I believe.

The Ripple-chan on the screen was of pretty high quality. At the very least, it was completely beyond the level of an elementary school student.

I still remember the excitement I felt at that time. I seriously thought he was a magician! There was no way a kid my age could make something that could be mistaken for a store-bought product unless he was a magician. And without a doubt, thinking that if he could make Ripple-chan, he could also make Kururu-chan, I…

“Kururu-chan! Make me Kururu-chan from MagiCru!!”

I had requested. I think I even thought that since he was a magician, he could probably just pop it out of thin air. Kou-chan nodded and asked me for reference material. I think I showed him the original manga. After flipping through a few pages, Kou-chan said,

“Yeah, I think I can make it. Wait a week, okay?”

I remember thinking, “What, you can’t just pop it out after looking at it?” Man, kids are amazing.

But that dissatisfaction was blown away in an instant. Because Kou-chan took out a sketchbook and started drawing with incredible speed. The other girls, and even the teacher, got curious and peeked over. I got out of bed and joined them. What I saw was magic. The strange lines he was drawing connected, and before I knew it, it had unmistakably become Kururu-chan. I watched the process with sparkling eyes.

And the week from then was quite long. Is it ready yet, is it ready yet? After about three days, I started having doubts, like maybe he’d forgotten. Thinking back on it now, I was seriously self-centered. Kou-chan probably had homework and chores, and he likely spent all his free time making it for me. He was so kind he didn’t say a word about it.

And he even brought it in six days. Kou-chan had bandages on his fingers, but I didn’t notice at all. My mom was there when he brought it and told me about it later. Even for a kid, I still think, “That’s not right, past me.”

But I was so overjoyed with the figure I received that I didn’t even think to thank Kou-chan for his hard work. Man, I was the worst. But Kou-chan didn’t get angry.

“I watched the anime for research too. she’s a strong girl, isn’t she, kururu-chan? she’s fighting a disease, but she also fights for peace. if it were me, I would’ve definitely given up.”

I turned around abruptly and finally looked at Kou-chan. He was the first person to notice not just Kururu-chan’s strength as a magical girl, but also the strength of her heart.

“Right! Kururu-chan is strong and super cool, right!”

From there, as if a kindred spirit had finally appeared, I excitedly talked one-sidedly about Kururu-chan’s charms. Kou-chan listened with what seemed like genuine enjoyment, occasionally chiming in. My mom looked happy too, and I feel like I kept talking until the nurse came. It was the most fun day of my entire hospital stay.

After that, Kou-chan came to visit about once a week. Before I knew it, I was looking forward to the days he would come more than anyone else.

One day, when I was complaining, Kou-chan gave me these treasure-like words.

“Sei-chan, you’re fighting much, much more than we are. just like kururu-chan. that’s why you’re so strong. when you beat your illness and can go to school, you’ll be stronger than anyone in class.”

I, who had always been called frail, never imagined I would be called the complete opposite: strong. I thought he was teasing me and pouted.

“my dad said so. people become stronger by the amount of hardship they overcome. so Sei-chan, who has overcome so much hardship, is already super strong. and you’re going to beat your illness, so when you overcome that, you’ll be invincible. definitely the strongest in class.”

In his straightforward eyes, there was no lie. There was a sparkle that made him believe it was the truth of the world. There was even a hint of respect for me. I was taken aback at the time, but looking back on it later, I was so, so happy, and for the first time, I was able to accept myself, suffering from illness.

But my happy times with Kou-chan didn’t last long. It was decided that I would be transferred to another hospital.

There had been talk of me going to a large hospital in the neighboring Yokonaka, but my mom was insistent on a hospital in our hometown, Sawamigawa—which is where I’m living now—so that’s where I was hospitalized.

Thanks to that, I was able to meet Chika and Kou-chan, so in that sense, it was the best, but considering how dramatically my condition improved at the hospital in Yokonaka, my treatment had been at a standstill.

Well, anyway, that’s how I ended up moving, but I was always bothered by the fact that things with Kou-chan had ended so abruptly.

No, that’s not all. The truth is, I realized it after we were apart. That was my first love. At the elementary school I started attending after getting better, there wasn’t a single boy as kind and calm as Kou-chan. Watching the boys in my class who were as noisy as monkeys, I finally realized I was heartbroken.

★★★

On the way home from the mall, I kept replaying her shout in my mind.

I don’t get it. Did I do something wrong?

Yeah, probably.

But I have no idea what. I tried to remember the moment just before she ran off. You idiot, Kou-chan. She called me by my first name. All day, she’d only called me Kutsuzawa-kun or ‘you,’ yet only then did she use my first name.

Furthermore, before she got angry, she was talking about Meguru. Could Mizoguchi-san know Meguru? No, she just moved here this year. There’s no way. And even if she did, it’s not something to get angry about.

I don’t know. My mind is a blank, and the image of her crying face keeps running through my head.

I went home like that, and a while later, I got a Line from her. It just said, ‘Sorry.’ I asked her why she was angry, but she just left me on read.

And just like that, five days passed. Of course, she didn’t talk to me at school, and I didn’t have the courage to persistently send her lines. Time just slipped by.

Well, I just went back to my old life, right? That’s what I think, but something feels really off. Probably the guilt from making her cry, and the fact that I still don’t know why. And more than anything… I was starting to have fun. I thought, just for a little bit, that maybe I could try making friends again. The state of having angered the person who made me feel that way is extremely uncomfortable. And sad.

“Ah.”

“…”

I almost bumped into Mizoguchi-san as she was coming back from the restroom. Before I could apologize, she quickly slipped past my side. Rather than still being angry, she looked at me with the same lonely expression I probably had.

Is last week’s incident casting a shadow over her too? If I’m not being too self-conscious, maybe I should be the one to make a move. Chase after her. Beg her. Her, the beautiful gyaru at the top of the class. Even if I’m ignored, even if the whole class scorns me as a stalker. Can I, a coward, do that?

…Do I have to go that far? She got angry on her own and ignores me when I ask why. What’s the point of chasing after someone like that? I have those feelings too, but I also have the guilt and emptiness. Every day, I decide that today’s the day I’ll talk to her, then go home looking for excuses for my cowardice. I’ve been repeating that cycle.

But today’s the day.

As soon as homeroom ended, I stood up with force. She was also standing, apparently about to go home with Sonoda-san. I would have preferred to talk to her one-on-one, but I can’t be picky.

If talking to her directly doesn’t work, then it’s over. I’ve done my part. As long as I’m not persistent, the class won’t laugh at me, probably. I mentally slap myself across the cheek. Now, to act.

And that’s when it happened.

“Hold up a sec.”

Someone tugged on the hem of my uniform, and my knees nearly buckled. When I turned around, Dougochi-san was standing there.

“Here,” she said, tossing me a can of coffee. I caught it, feeling like I was in some TV drama. The can was ice-cold, a perfect relief for my sweaty palm. It was only early June, but the heat was already scorching. This year was definitely going to be a hot one.

“I should pay you for this.”

“It’s fine. I’m the one who dragged you here, after all.”

“…Thanks for the drink.”

“So,” she started, “I’m sure you already know, but this is about Seika.”

“Right.”

“Ugh, I can’t help but be on her side, y’know? So a part of me is kinda pissed at you.”

Yikes. Is this for real? Is this bullying, or have I actually gotten on the bad side of the girls at the top of the food chain? I’ve been scared before, but this feels legit. Worst-case scenario, I could drop out, get my GED, and go to college. Or maybe it’d be better to just skip college and work at my family’sworkshop…

…It’s depressing how quickly my mind jumps to escapeplans.

Just then, Dougochi-san’s expression softened slightly.

“But, well, I get that from your perspective, Kutsuzawa-kun, it’s pretty damn unfair.”

“…”

It seemed like this might actually be a rational conversation. I probably wasn’t going to get punched or anything.

“Um, Dougochi-san, do you know the whole story?”

“Yeah. We’ve been best friends since elementary school. I knew her back when she was frail, too.”

“…Frail.”

I couldn’t imagine that from the Mizoguchi-san I knew. She was always so confident, bright, and energetic… well, she hasn’t been energetic at all lately.

Dougochi-san stared intently at my face, her eyes serious as if she were searching for something. The pressure was so intense that I unconsciously took a step back.

“Does that ring any bells?”

“Even if you ask me that…”

Honestly, I was completely lost. I didn’t understand what she was getting at. I thought she was going to talk about Mizoguchi-san’s past, but she didn’t seem inclined to continue.

“Kutsuzawa-kun, does anyone ever tell you you’re forgetful?”

“Not my family, really. I don’t have any friends, so…”

“Ah. Sorry about that.”

Even if she apologizes…

“Well, anything more is between you two. Here.”

Dougochi-san handed me a piece of paper. It was a copy of a map.

“The place with the red circle is Seika’s house.”

The location marked on the map was a beautiful, newly built apartment building. The exterior walls were mosaic tiles, I think. As for the construction method… No, now’s not the time for that.

At the entrance, I dialed the room number Dougochi-san had told me and buzzed. I probably should have messaged her on Line beforehand, but according to Dougochi-san, “She’s a total chicken when it counts. If you tell her in advance, she’d definitely run. It’s a surprise attack, a surprise attack.” So, I came unannounced.

One ring, two rings.

Was shenot home? I was just about to turn and leave when I heard a voice.

“Hello.”

A response came through. It was a woman’s voice, low and calm.

“Ah, um. My name is Kutsuzawa, I’m a classmate of Seika-san’s. Is she home?” I asked, trying my best to be polite despite my nerves.

“Huh!? Kou… Kutsuzawa-kun!?”

Huh, that was her? Everyone’s voice sounds a bit different over an intercom, but I seriously thought it was a family member.

“How did you find this place… Oh, Chika did this, didn’t she? Seriously, she’s such a meddler.”

“…I’m sorry. It seems she was trying to help because she felt bad for me.”

“…Just, come in.”

The call ended with a beep, and the automatic door in front of me slid open. The security here was top-notch, a world away from my house. I remember one time I came home to find one of our employees rummaging through the first-aid kit in the living room. He didn’t even look guilty, just laughed and showed me his finger, gushing with blood, saying, “Whoops, messed up.”

I took the elevator to the seventh floor. Once I arrived, I walked down the hallway looking for room 707. The drains along the side of the hallway were almost spotless—it just goes to show how meticulous the cleaning must be. At our workshop, I remember there was a dried-up piece of cat poop… let’s not go there. I’ve been having the weirdest thoughts for a while now. In other words…

“I’m super nervous, aren’t I?”

I took a deep breath in and out. I’d arrived. Room 707. The finger I was about to press the doorbell with was trembling. I still didn’t even know why she was mad at me. I might unknowingly step on another one of her landmines. Shouldn’t I at least try to figure out the reason before I open this door? That’s right, Dougochi-san said she knew everything, so I should ask her…

“No, that’s a bad idea.”

That was probably a no-go. If she found out later that I was snooping around for information… besides, I doubt Dougochi-san would tell me in the first place. She’d probably just say, “If you have questions, go ask Seika directly.” So, I had no choice but to brace myself.

Screw it, I thought, closing my eyes and pressing the intercom button.

“…”

Huh? There was no sign of anyone moving inside. I’m sure I heard the ding-dong of the doorbell. She couldn’t be out, and there’s no way she didn’t hear it. I tried pressing it again. Still no response.

“…”

What? Did she seriously just open the main door downstairs and then ditch me? Would she really do something that cruel? I really don’t remember doing anything to deserve that.

I tried calling her. This was actually my first time. I heard a sound from nearby—a rock number by a famous all-girl band. The call was immediately disconnected before the first phrase even finished.

“…”

“…”

“Mizoguchi-san? Are you there?”

She was probably right on the other side of the door, standing in the entryway. Maybe she buzzed me in and came right here to wait. I think that means she’s willing to talk. But then, when the doorbell actually rang, she froze. Dougochi-san had called her a chicken when it counts, and it seems that wasn’t far from the truth.

“…Are you, maybe, finding it hard to face me? If so… I feel the same way. Honestly, I don’t know why things ended up like this when we were just starting to get along. Did I do something? Are you still mad? When I think about it all, I get scared and can’t bring myself to talk to you.”

“…”

“Um, if I’m bothering you, I’ll leave. I won’t ever message you on Line again.”

“Don’t!!”

“Eh?”

Her sharp voice stopped me cold. While I stood there in surprise, the apartment door swung outward, almost hitting me in the nose. I hurriedly backed away.

“Wait.”

Her voice was a little hoarse, perhaps from shouting. It felt like it had been a while since I’d seen her face from the front. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her clothes—a white T-shirt and black sweatpants—were completely casual. Mizoguchi-san looked down, avoiding my gaze. I figured the polite thing to do was not to stare.

“…Come in.”

Invited in by a voice smaller than I could ever imagine coming from the usual Mizoguchi-san, I stepped into her home.

☆☆☆

For the past five days, it was as if all the color had vanished from my world. Whatever I ate, I’d forget the taste immediately, and sometimes I wouldn’t even remember what I’d eaten. In fact, I can’t even remember what I had for dinner last night. The same went for TV and videos. It was at a level where I wasn’t even sure if I was watching or not. Mom worried about me several times, but all I could manage was to say I was fine.

And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to make a move. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. We’d miraculously met again, so I was supposed to tell him everything, we were supposed to become friends again… All I did was picture that unfulfilled blueprint in my mind and cry. Because after I calmed down, I realized that from Kutsuzawa-kun’s perspective, the situation was completely nonsensical and unreasonable. He answered my question, shared a memory from back then, and I blew up at him, leaving things on the worst possible note… This is just…

He hates me now. I didn’t want to confirm that, so I’d been avoiding him. Just procrastinating. I knew I had to apologize, and I knew that the longer I put it off, the worse his impression of me would get.

And yet, I was scared of being abandoned, and deep down I wanted him to be more forceful. I mean, is Kutsuzawa-kun okay with cutting ties with me? He won’t even chase after me after a little rejection…? I even had such audacious thoughts. But I haven’t explained anything, so there’s no way for him to step in. I’m so difficult.

And yet… he came for a girl like me. But even here, while my heart wanted to jump out with joy, I got scared. I only managed to muster up the courage at the very last second before our bond was severed. I’m so pathetic it’s not even funny.

“Haaah~”

I took a bottle of oolong tea from the fridge, and as I poured it into a glass, I let out a quiet sigh. I placed my glass and a guest glass on a tray and slowly returned to the living room.

I gently placed the tray on the glass table and sat down on the sofa. It wasn’t a face-to-face arrangement; the sofas were placed in an L-shape around the table to make it easy to watch TV, so I ended up sitting diagonally across from him.

I looked at Kutsuzawa-kun’s side profile again. Now that I think about it, there’s a resemblance. I see, a part of my brain must have realized it. That’s why I was so hung up on him.

His serious face is cool, but the way he scratches his cheek awkwardly is cute. As I continued to stare blankly, Kutsuzawa-kun slowly turned to look at me. Embarrassed, I quickly looked down.

“…Why are you looking away?”

“Because, right now, I’m… barefaced.”

Am I speaking in fragments? Crap, I seriously can’t talk properly.

“Was I ugly?”

There’s no way the kind Kutsuzawa-kun would say yes to a question like that.

“No, not at all.”

“Then, what did you think?”

“…If I’m being honest, I think you’d find it creepy.”

“Say it.”

I’m the creepy one here. Why do I want him to say it so badly?

“…I thought, it’s unfair you look like this without any makeup on.”

“And that means?”

“Well… um.”

“Yeah.”

“That you’re beautiful after all.”

“~~!”

Adrenaline gushed through my brain like a fountain. No matter how many guys had called me beautiful or pretty before, I’d always just felt like, “I know,” and their ulterior motives were so transparent it was just gross. What is this? I feel like I’m about to scream.

“Please give me a break. This is the first time I’ve ever said that to a girl.”

My heart is seriously about to leap out of my chest.

“Ah, no. I guess I have said it before.”

“Huh!?”

To whom?

“You know, when we met up at the mall. To you, Mizoguchi-san.”

It was me! That’s right, he did say it. I got flustered that time, too.

But wait. Back then, he said it so smoothly, but now he’s worried that I’d find it creepy… which means the distance between us has grown. My chest hurts so much. There’s no way I’d ever think it was creepy to be complimented by Kutsuzawa-kun, and it hurts that I made him feel so insecure.

Ignoring my emotional instability, Kutsuzawa-kun tilted his glass and drank some oolong tea. Then, he turned his whole body to face me.

“Um, Mizoguchi-san.”

“Hm?”

“So, about what happened…”

“Ah, right.”

That’s right. That’s what he came here to talk about.

“Um, I came all this way, but honestly, I still have no idea why you got so angry back then. I’d like you to tell me.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

It’d be unreasonable to expect him to understand from just that.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“N-No, that’s not it!”

I have to be brave, too. Kutsuzawa-kun came to see me even after I kept ignoring him. He didn’t abandon an unreasonable girl like me. Now it’s my turn.

“…Wait a minute. There’s something I want to show you.”

With only those words, I returned to my room. I opened the walk-in closet and held the figure case that was stored inside with both hands. The Kururu-chan figure I received eight years ago.

I took a deep breath in and out. The time has finally come to show him this. In my mind, I was ninety-nine percent certain that Kou-chan is Kutsuzawa-kun, but it’s not one hundred percent yet. I’m about to make it a certainty now. I pushed the tiny chance that I might be mistaken deep into my heart.

★★★

The moment Mizoguchi-san left the living room, a sudden silence fell. The tick-tock of the wall clock sounded unusually loud. Th-this is awkward. Also, is Mizoguchi-san the only one home right now? Just as I started to worry that I had made a huge mistake on multiple levels, the living room door opened and she returned, holding something in her hands. A transparent case. I gasped when I saw what was inside.

“…That figure. That’s the… one I made.”

“I knew it… I knew it was you.”

“Whoa, this is nostalgic. Can I see it up close?”

Instead of answering, Mizoguchi-san placed the case on the table. It was a figure of a girl with black hair in a black one-piece dress. I remember being so engrossed in making it that I pricked my finger on the aluminum wire and had to put on a bandage. It was fun. And I wanted to make her happy.

“Ah, the color’s faded. The details are too rough. I remember I panicked when sweat dripped on it while I was making the face. Ah, this is seriously nostalgic.”

I found myself observing the whole thing from every angle, swaying my body left and right like I was playing a racing game. But then, a question popped into my head. I’m pretty sure I gave this to a girl who was hospitalized. I think her name was… Sei-chan. A synapse fired in my brain, connecting the dots.

“Sei-chan!? Ah! ‘To bridge the stars’!”

I remembered her telling me that explanation when I asked for her real name in the hospital room once. As a certain chain of memories began flooding out.

Then, suddenly, a hand reached out from the side, wrapped around my neck, and pulled me with incredible strength until my body was pressed against a warm one. Startled, I turned to see Mizoguchi-san’s face right there. She was crying. Teardrops clung to her long eyelashes, sparkling brightly. It might be awful to think this about a crying girl, but… she’s beautiful.

“Kou-chan. Kou-chan. I found you. I really, truly, met you again…!”

She seemed overwhelmed with emotion, resting her forehead on my shoulder and crying while sniffling.

Um. Well, I do think it’s an amazing coincidence, but I don’t recall us spending enough time together for it to be such an emotional reunion. I think it was about a month, and only once a week at that, so we probably only met about four times.

What should I do? Should I pat her on the back to calm her down? What if she calls it sexual harassment later… no, I don’t think she’s that kind of person. I cautiously tried to raise my hand, but then I noticed it was trembling pathetically. It was shaking so much you could tell I was a virgin just by looking at my fingertips.

In the end, I couldn’t muster the courage and just sat there dumbfounded while being hugged, waiting for her to calm down.

It was probably about two or three minutes. It felt much longer, but the long hand of the wall clock had only moved slightly. Eventually, Mizoguchi-san’s body slowly pulled away, and her tear-stained face came into view. Her eyes were red, and her lips were still trembling slightly.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded with a sniffle and turned her back to me. She picked up a hand mirror that was on the table and checked her face.

“Um, should I step outside?”

“It’s fine. If I put on makeup and then cry, I’ll just look uglier.”

Is she planning on crying more?

“And you said I was a world-class beauty even without makeup.”

“I didn’t go as far as world-class, but, well, yes.”

It was true that I thought she was beautiful even with a tear-stained face.

“So, um. Is it right to assume that the girl from back then was Sei… Mizoguchi-san?”

“My name.”

“Eh?”

“You called me Seika-san on the intercom, and you called me Sei-chan just now, so why are you regressing?”

Her voice rose at the end, like a child’s. The gap between this and her usual confident gyaru persona is huge. But, of course, I have my reasons.

“On the intercom, I thought it might be a family member. Your voice sounded different. And calling you Sei-chan was because I got carried away by old memories. You too, Mizoguchi-san—”

“My name!”

She said it like a pouting child, which made me forget the situation and smile a little.

“Umm, well then, Seika-san?”

“…I’ll let it slide for now.”

Maybe she’s the one who’s actually being pulled back by childhood memories.

Now that the issue of what to call her was settled, I faced her once more. There were still things we needed to talk about, things I wanted to ask.

But, before that.

“First of all… I’m sorry for forgetting until now, for not realizing. This is what you were angry about, wasn’t it?”

I bowed my head deeply to her. To me, she might have been just someone I’d gotten a little friendly with when I gave her the figure, but to her, it held a much bigger meaning. Considering her circumstances, and looking at this carefully preserved Kururu-chan, it was impossible not to understand.

“I’m sorry.”

I bowed my head again.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I wasn’t even sure myself until the day at the mall, and we only met a few times as kids. I only remembered your nickname. In a situation like that, it can’t be helped. I’m really sorry.”

Her kind words were a relief.

“…Well, I guess it can’t be helped that you didn’t connect me to her, but it’s still a shock that you forgot my existence entirely.”

I raised my face. She was smiling, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Your words truly saved me, Kou-chan, and whenever I was feeling down, I’d look at this figure and it would cheer me up. I never once forgot about you. But it can’t be helped, right? It can’t be helped. I’m just one of the many people you made figures for, right? You can’t be expected to remember every single one, right?”

She’s totally holding a grudge. My palms are starting to sweat.

“Um, what can I do to be forgiven?”

“Pat me.”

“Huh?”

“You were about to pat my back earlier, right? Do that.”

She noticed. And now she’s demanding a do-over.

“Nn.”

Mizoguchi, no, Seika-san, stood up and held her arms out to me.

“A-Are you serious about this?”

I stood up too, drawn in by her, but… if we’re in the same position as before, that means…

“Nn.”

We’d have to hug, and I’d have to put my hand on her back. I don’t have that kind of courage… whoa. Seika-san jumped into my arms without a moment’s hesitation. Before I had time to think, my arms were around her back, holding her.

Whoa, she’s soft. I thought she was slender, but she’s still a girl after all. This is bad. My heart is pounding at a speed I’ve never felt before. Oh, but Seika-san’s left breast, pressed against my right chest, is also beating incredibly fast. Wait… left breast? This softness, could it be… no, it has to be.

“So? I’ve got more of a chest than you thought, right?”

She said it with a provocative smile, but her face was bright red. Her body was trembling a little, too. Sh-She’s really not used to this. Just like me. Thinking that, I was able to calm down a little… no way I could.

I-I have to pat her. That was the deal. I moved the hand I had on her back. Immediately, I felt something like a ridge.

“Ah!”

D-Don’t make a weird sound. When I tried to peek at her face, she shyly looked away. Her reaction finally made me understand. A bra strap. R-Right. It’s a girl’s body, so she’d be wearing something like that. Of course, I knew that in theory, but actually touching it with my own hand felt incredibly real.

I-I think I’m going to have a nosebleed. No. The back is a no-go. I arbitrarily changed plans and placed my hand on her head, which was nearby. It was round and warm. As I gently stroked it, a nice scent wafted from her hair.

“My head.”

“W-Was that not okay?”

“It’s fine, totally. It feels good.”

Her sweet voice tickled my eardrums. It felt like magma was being poured into my chest. A vision of me violently pulling this soft, slender body into an embrace flashed through my mind. The rational part of my brain is shocked that even a herbivore like me has such a violent impulse sleeping within.

Before I knew it, I was stroking her hair rather than her head. Despite being heavily dyed, it wasn’t very damaged and barely snagged on my fingers. I’m sure she puts a lot of time and money into her hair care.

I bet it’s not just her hair, but her body and face, too, that she puts an amount of effort into that a guy could never comprehend. And I’m being allowed to touch it. I felt dizzy.

I moved my hand down to her back again. I want to hug her.

Sh-She shouldn’t mind.

“Seika-san.”

Just as my fingers were about to touch her thin waist, a sudden rattling sound came from the direction of the front door, and Seika-san sprang away from me as if she’d been electrocuted.

“Crap! Mom’s home!”

Whoa, whoa, whoa. If her mother saw us like this, it might make her reminisce about her own youth. I quickly moved away, lightly straightened my shirt, and stood at attention to greet the homeowner.

The living room door opened, and her mother walked in. Her slightly sharp eyes resembled Seika-san’s. She looked to be in her early forties. She didn’t seem too surprised to see my face, probably because she saw the shoes at the entrance.

“Seika, is this a friend?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, or rather, it’s been a while. I’m Kutsuzawa Kousei, a classmate of Seika-san’s.”

“Kutsuzawa… Kousei-kun.”

The lady looked at me with a stern expression. I don’t think it’s hostility, though. Her gaze is even more intense than Seika-san’s.

“A long time ago, when Seika-san was hospitalized, I visited her a few times, and at that time—”

I’m sure I’ve met her once before, but honestly, I don’t remember at all. I feel like if I’d been subjected to such a powerful gaze, I wouldn’t have been able to forget it. Well, back then I was just a kid visiting another kid, and now I’m a mysterious loner who went in her house while she was out. I guess the intensity of her gaze would be different.

“Ah, ah! You’re Kou-chan! I’ve been wanting to thank you too!”

Her voice was strong. She closed the distance between us with long strides. Scary, scary. Ah, Seika-san definitely takes after her mother.

“Thank you so much for being a source of support for Seika back then.”

So I was a source of support, after all. Though I’m sure it was mostly the figure I made.

“Normally, we should have visited your home to thank you, but… we were also busy with transferring hospitals and all that, you know? Things were hectic, right?”

Right? she asks me. But as I just smiled politely at this woman who kept talking and talking, it seems she decided on her own that we’d bridged the distance, and she started dropping the formal speech. Well, it’s awkward to have a classmate’s parent keep using polite language with me, so I guess it’s fine.

“No, I was also practicing, so please don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, really? It’s a great help to hear you say that.”

It feels like she was waiting for me to say that. Man, she’s bold. It’s not that uncommon with older people, though.

“But isn’t this great, Seika? You finally got to meet your beloved Kou-chan that you’ve been searching for all this time.”

My beloved Kou-chan? Ah, no. Beloved, huh… wait, what!?

“W-Wait! Mom! That’s not it! Kou-chan, she’s wrong, okay! R-Right! I just wanted to thank you again, just like Mom! You know, because I couldn’t say it properly when we were transferring hospitals, right?”

Right? she asks me.

“No, it’s okay. I won’t misunderstand.”

“Ah…”

I said it to reassure her, but for some reason, she’s staring at me with teary eyes. Her slightly parted lips… I wonder if she was about to say something.

“Anyway, I heard you moved here for high school, so I thought you were a complete outsider, but you were just coming back, huh?”

I completely thought so, so the idea that we might have met as kids never even crossed my mind for a second. Hmm, thinking about it again, getting mad at me at the mall was an impossible game to win.

At the same time, I was impressed by how dutiful she was, moving back just to thank me for something from the past… but it seems there’s more to it than that, and both Seika-san and her mother look somewhat awkward.

“Well, there were some family matters involved, too. Of course, it was also true that we wanted to thank you if we met you.”

Her mother explained. I don’t know what the family matters were, but they probably had no choice but to move. And since they had to move anyway, they chose Sawamigawa, where they had lived before and where they might be able to meet the person they wanted to thank. I guess that’s how it was.

“Again… I’m really sorry. From your perspective, Kou-chan, it was only natural that you wouldn’t understand.”

Having finished explaining the situation and calmed down, Seika-san seemed to be able to look at things objectively. But she’s already apologized so many times, and I don’t have any hard feelings either. As she said, it’s understandable that I couldn’t connect Sei-chan and Seika-san, but it was heartless of me to forget about Sei-chan herself.

“These past five days, too… I’ve been acting pretty nasty, haven’t I?”

“No, I understand how you feel now.”

It’s a shock just to imagine that the person you’ve felt indebted to for years doesn’t remember you at all.

“But my first Line message was left on read…”

“I’ll send another one. Something random… like about a warlord.”

“Kou-chan… thank you. But I’ll pass on the warlord.”

The two of us, though still a bit awkward, laughed together.

☆☆☆

And then, Mom’s deliberately loud cough echoed through the room. Sorry, Mom. I’d almost forgotten about you.

“Are you two dating?”

Before I had a chance to be startled, Kou-chan said,

“No, we’re not.”

You don’t have to answer so quickly. Aren’t you being a little too calm?

“Really? When I came in just now, it looked like you two were getting into a bit of a mood, didn’t it?”

“No, no, not at all.”

I’m telling you, you’re being too calm, Kou-chan… it’s making me depressed. I mean, it’s not like I, l-like, him or anything, even now.

“I was just touching her body a little, there was no consent.”

He wasn’t calm at all!?

“Th-Then that’s indecent assault! Calm down!”

“In-Indecent assault!? If I’m branded with such a disgraceful name… Father, Mother, please forgive your unfilial son.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard that one!?”

Ah, this is a total mess. Mom is looking at us and laughing with her mouth wide open. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Mom smile like that.

“Ahahaha. Haa~ you’re a funny one. To think you’d say there was no consent to your mother… ah, that’s hilarious.”

“Just so you know, there was consent, okay?”

I made sure to clarify, just in case. I mean, I’m the one who hugged him first.

“I know that. The fact that you’re in a situation where you’re alone in a room with a guy means you have feelings for—”

“Ah, geez! You don’t need to say anything extra!”

Just as we were about to start a mother-daughter squabble, Kou-chan looked at the clock. At that, we both quieted down. It’s about time, Kou-chan said as he stood up.

“Ah, I forgot. This is a souvenir. I thought something perishable would be good. It might have gotten cold, though.”

“Oh my, you shouldn’t have.”

“Um, Imagawa.”

“Imagawa Yoshimoto!?”

He finally did it! I looked away for just a second, and I couldn’t stop his rampage!

“What are you talking about?”

Mom looked at me like she’d raised me wrong, while taking out a white package from the paper bag he’d given her.

“It’s Imagawa-yaki, right?”

“Yes, it was a sudden visit, so I couldn’t find anything better than this.”

“No, no, not at all. We’re the ones who should be thanking you. Here, you too.”

“Eh? Ah, thank you.”

“Yes. But… are you okay, Seika-san? You suddenly started saying strange things.”

“You’re the one person who’s not supposed to betray me here!”

How can you look so puzzled? You’re the one who started it.

“Well… it’s true that Imagawa Yoshimoto disappeared a long time ago and has gotten cold, though. Hahaha.”

“That’s a bit too edgy. Don’t laugh.”

How did such an innocent kid turn into such a funny guy?

We came down to the first-floor entrance hall of the apartment, but I still felt reluctant to part, so I sat down on the shared sofa there and gestured for him to sit across from me. The time was exactly six o’clock. I knew it was a bother to keep him for too long. But I hadn’t talked enough.

“But still, I was surprised. To think that Sei-chan… has completely recovered. I’m glad.”

“Well, they did say the symptoms would get milder as I got older.”

“Then… it might be a bit late, but I’d like to give you a gift to celebrate your recovery. What kind of Yoshimoto would you like?”

“Can you stop assuming it’s going to be a Yoshimoto?”

“Huh? But just now, you mistook Imagawa-yaki for Yoshimoto…”

“That’s because you, Kou-chan! At the mall!”

I got that far before I hesitated a little.

“It’s a bit late to ask, but what should I call you from now on? Kou-chan? K-Kousei?”

“Feel free to call me whatever you like.”

“I see.”

Honestly, a part of me wants to call him Kou-chan, but that name makes me feel like I’m being pulled back to my childhood memories and makes me feel weak, like it’s not the current me. So, I have to be strong here, be myself.

“Then I’ll call you Kousei. Ah, but would you prefer it if I talked in a cute way like the old me~?”

The end of my sentence stretched out in a cloying way, which surprised even me. I can make such a flirty voice? No, but if he always wanted me to be this cute…

“No, I think it’s fine for you to be comfortable, Seika-san.”

“You think so?”

“I think you should just push forward without worrying about the little details, like you always do. You’re a gyaru, after all.”

“Aren’t you making fun of me a little?”

“Of course not. A little? Not at all.”

“What part of that are you denying!? Just say you’re not making fun of me!”

“Eh?”

“Just go home! Idiot! Okehazama!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Kousei stood up.

I’m sad, but it’s about time he had to go home.

“Well then, see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, right.”

After taking a few steps, Kousei turned back to look at me.

“What?”

“I was happy that you treasured the figure. Your way of speaking and your vibe have changed, but… I think you’re a deeply affectionate person who can cherish something that someone put their heart into. Both Sei-chan and Seika-san. So… I’m glad I could meet you again.”

After saying just that, Kousei passed through the automatic doors. As I blankly watched his retreating back…

“That’s… not fair.”

I couldn’t deceive myself any longer.

—I began the continuation of my first love.

Previous          ToC          Next