Chapter 7: The Gyaru Friend

The next morning, as I swapped my outdoor shoes for indoor ones at the shoe lockers, a voice cut through the usual chatter.

“Yo, Keiji!”

Before I could react, a female student materialized beside me, her presence impossible to ignore.

“Oh, it’s just you, Maki.”

Sogano Maki—a flashy, short-haired blonde gyaru.

Even in early April, she’d already ditched her blazer for a pink school sweater, her miniskirt so short it blatantly defied school rules. Our school, Sōshūkan, might cater to kids from prestigious families, but we were still modern teens.

Light brown hair was common enough, but Maki’s dazzling blonde locks were a rarity, making her stand out even among the good-looking students. Her bold fashion and vibrant energy felt almost out of place in the refined halls.

“‘Oh, it’s just you’? That’s kinda cold, considering how close we are, Keiji!” she teased, her voice brimming with mock indignation.

“Close how, exactly?”

Despite her over-the-top vibe, Maki was oddly friendly with me, always sauntering over to poke fun or chat. She threw around my first name, “Keiji,” with a casual ease that didn’t bother me, though I never quite knew how to match her energy.

“By the way, Keiji, you finally did it, huh?” Her grin turned sly, like she’d caught me in some grand scheme.

“Did what?” I asked, genuinely clueless.

“Check this out.” Maki thrust her phone toward me, the screen displaying a photo of me and Sayaka walking side by side down a school hallway.

“Why do you have a picture like that, Maki? You weren’t even there, were you?”

Maki’s the kind of girl who commands attention. If she’d been in that hallway—where the exam results were posted—I’d have noticed her instantly. Her blonde hair and bold aura weren’t exactly subtle.

“That’s ’cause Maki-chan’s an info broker, duh.”

I could only stare, unimpressed.

Sogano Maki, self-proclaimed “info broker” of Sōshūkan, had an uncanny knack for knowing everything.

Who was dating who, who got into trouble off-campus, even whispers of inappropriate teacher-student ties—she had the scoop on it all. At a school where family backgrounds carried weight, Maki seemed to have dirt on everyone’s lineage. If she wanted, she could probably weaponize that info to ruin someone, family and all. It was honestly a little terrifying.

“I thought you just sold info,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But you’re buying it too, huh? Maybe I should snap some juicy scoop and sell it to you.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be stingy, Kiyomiya’s little prince! We’re friends, so if you get a scoop, just hand it over for free!”

“You’re the one using friendship as an excuse to be cheap,” I shot back.

Of course, I was only joking about selling info. That was her game, not mine.

“More importantly, Keiji,” she said, her tone shifting to something more conspiratorial, “I heard Hisaka-san bailed you out again when Fujikawa’s lackey was messing with you.”

“She seems cool, but surprisingly kind, that Sayaka.”

“Sayaka? Hold up, you’re on a first-name basis already? So, does that mean I can call her Saya-cchi too?”

“Don’t sneak in a nickname like that,” I warned. “If you try it with Sayaka, she’ll probably just ignore you completely.”

“That kind of cold shoulder can feel kinda thrilling, though, right, Keiji?” she teased.

“I’m not getting ignored by her, okay?” I said, exasperated.

“Tch, acting all high and mighty just ’cause you got a girl.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” I snapped, louder than I meant to. And definitely not my maid, either. Sayaka was just a freeloader I was generously letting crash at my place.

The shoe locker area was getting crowded, the morning rush of students making it harder to talk. We stepped away, moving toward the open, two-story lobby nearby where students lingered, chatting before heading to class.

“So, where’d you and Hisaka-san sneak off to after that?” Maki asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a refined ojou-sama?” I countered, dodging her question. “What’s with that crude way of talking?”

“Expecting a lady to be all proper is so outdated,” she scoffed, “Besides, the Sogano family’s kinda minor, y’know.”

I hadn’t heard much about the Sogano name, but at Sōshūkan, family status was a key part of admissions. If Maki got in, her family must have some respectable lineage, even if she downplayed it.

“Still, it’s kinda weird, right? Hisaka-san, who barely talks to girls, let alone guys, is oddly proactive with you, Keiji.”

“You’re in our class too, Maki. You know we’re just desk neighbors,” I said, keeping my tone even.

“That’s not enough reason for someone like Hisaka-san to be nice to a guy,” she shot back, unconvinced.

“Then maybe she’s just got a strong sense of justice,” I offered. “She probably felt bad seeing me get picked on by Fujikawa’s goon.”

“You’re saying that about yourself?” Maki’s grin widened, teasing. “Maybe she stepped in to stop you from doing something stupid…”

“Me doing something stupid? What’re you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing at all,” she said, her cheeky grin betraying her feigned innocence as she shook her head.

“But seriously, though—” Maki’s words cut off as she suddenly broke into a little dance, waving her arms and lifting her legs with practiced flair. Her moves were sharp, polished, a clear holdover from her days in the middle school dance club. Rumor had it she’d qualified for nationals at a competition, only to drop out for reasons unknown—not an injury, apparently. With Maki’s whimsical personality, it could’ve just been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

“Hey, quit breaking into dance out of nowhere,” I said, exasperated.

“It’s just what I do!” she chirped, unbothered. “You’re secretly thrilled to see my dazzling moves, admit it.”

“I’m over it already. You start dancing every chance you get.”

The guys lingering in the lobby or passing through couldn’t help stealing glances at Maki. With her skirt as short as it was, no high school guy could completely ignore her, though I kept my focus on her face. Her vibrant aura demanded attention, skirt or no skirt.

“Well, at least you don’t look at me with pervy eyes, Keiji,” she said, her tone half-teasing, half-approving. “What, not into girls?”

“That’s not it,” I replied, unfazed. “Your dancing’s so sharp, it’s the moves that catch my eye, not anything else.”

“Ugh… this guy, throwing out compliments so naturally…!”

“Why’re you getting mad about being complimented?” I asked, baffled as ever by her theatrics.

Her expressions were lively, almost exaggerated, yet Maki remained as hard to read as the cool, stoic Sayaka. For all her openness, her true thoughts stayed just out of reach.

“A-anyway!” Maki blurted, swiftly changing the subject. “Right now, the hottest topic in school is Hisaka-san. So, Keiji, can you hook me up for an interview?”

“Just ask her yourself, we’re in the same class.”

“She’s super standoffish!” Maki groaned. “I’ve asked for an interview like a hundred times and got rejected two hundred times.”

“Your math’s off.”

She was clearly exaggerating her rejections, but I could picture Sayaka brushing her off without a second thought.

“She transferred in during third-year middle school, knocked Fujikawa down to second place, and has been top of the grade ever since!” Maki rambled on, her eyes gleaming. “That stunning face and those huge—! Hisaka-san’s info would fetch a high price!”

“You’re not taking sneaky photos of her, are you!?”

“If it’s for you, Keiji, I could snap some custom shots,” she teased. “My telephoto lens is ready to shine!”

“Nah, I’m not into changing scenes or whatever. I’m more about the everyday glimpses—like armpits or thighs…”

“Ugh, Maki-chan’s totally creeped out.”

“…Crap.” I winced, realizing I’d taken the joke too far.

“Well, if she’s cute, sides or thighs are plenty, right?” Maki said, bouncing back with a grin. “Hisaka Sayaka’s one of the two most beautiful first-year girls, after all.”

“The top two beauties, huh?” I muttered. “Sounds like some nerdy ranking.”

Sayaka might be one of them, but I barely knew the other girl, so the whole “top two” thing felt abstract to me.

“Personally, I’m Team Hisaka over that ‘Yamato Nadeshiko’ girl,” Maki declared, her tone almost possessive. “I want her info for myself too! Starting with her three sizes and favorite underwear color!”

“Your personal desires are showing more than your info-broker business,” I said, giving her a pointed look.

Maki was clearly into cute girls, not just as an info broker. She was pretty cute herself, but I’d never say that out loud—her ego didn’t need the boost.

“Tch, fine, I’ll settle for just visiting Hisaka-san’s place.”

“That’s the highest hurdle of all!” I exclaimed.

“Y’know, a lot of people are curious about Hisaka-san’s house.”

“That’s called being a peeping tom,” I retorted. “I don’t wanna say it, but Hisaka’s a scholarship student with tuition exemptions. I don’t know the details, but doesn’t that mean her family’s not exactly well-off?”

Sayaka lived in a small but cozy apartment, nothing extravagant. It didn’t scream wealth, especially compared to the affluent norm at Sōshūkan.

“I don’t think it’s malicious. Our school’s full of sheltered kids, so they’re probably just curious about a ‘commoner’s’ house.”

“Even if it’s not malicious, it’s still tacky,” I replied, crossing my arms and fixing her with a glare. Curiosity was one thing, but prying into Sayaka’s life like that felt wrong, and I wasn’t about to let it slide.

“Tch, I figured getting close to Hisaka-san might give me a shot at unraveling her mystery.”

“No chance,” I replied firmly. “Let Hisaka Sayaka remain an enigma.”

Maki wouldn’t dig too deep into Sayaka’s secrets, though. For all her bluster, she stuck to light, playful gossip—nothing malicious.

“Fine, I’ll settle for you, Keiji,” she said, pivoting with a sly grin.

“Huh?”

“You moved into the Kiyomiya Family Old Manor, didn’t you?” she pressed, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“H-How do you know that?” I stammered, my mind racing.

“What, you forgot? You sent me a LINE with a photo the day you moved. Said you’d relocated to some creepy old Western-style mansion.”

“Oh… right,” I mumbled, a vague memory surfacing. The old manor’s classic charm had hit me so hard I must’ve sent Maki a picture in my excitement.

“The Kiyomiya Family Old Manor’s practically a legend,” she went on, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Even among Sōshūkan students, barely anyone lives in a Western-style mansion like that. It’s beyond rare. Can I swing by for an interview? It’s cool, right? You’re living alone.”

“W-Wait, Maki,” I protested, trying to slow her down.

“It’s fine, yeah?” she said, undeterred, her hands landing on my shoulders as she leaned in close. Her voice turned teasing, almost sing-song. “No reason to say no, right? Your cute girl friend’s just dropping by your lonely bachelor pad to keep you company ♡.”

I froze, words failing me—not just because Maki was steamrolling me, but because a beautiful girl with light brown, semi-long hair and black-rimmed glasses had just passed by. Maki, too caught up in her scheming, didn’t notice her.

Could she have overheard us…?

We reached the classroom, and my desk neighbor was already there, flipping through a new (used) paperback. As I slid into my seat next to Sayaka—

“A cute girl friend’s coming over to visit, huh,” she murmured, her voice low but sharp.

Of course, she’d heard.

“Leave it to me,” she continued, almost as if talking to herself, though every word was crystal clear. “Housework’s not my only talent—hospitality’s part of a maid’s duties too. It’ll be a perfect chance to show off.”

Sayaka’s soft mutter carried a quiet confidence. Could it be, she’s planning to play the perfect hostess for Maki?