● April 12 (Tuesday) Saki Ayase

I glared at the ginger ale placed in front of me.

A welcome party for freshmen. I thought it’d be nice to join, but now I was wondering how to actually connect with people here. Honestly, I was just not cut out for this kind of thing.

On the long wooden table in the izakaya, plates from the all-you-can-eat and all-you-can-drink orders were packed tightly together. For the freshmen who didn’t drink alcohol, pitchers of oolong tea were placed at a ratio of about one for every four people. Maybe because most of the girls here were high schoolers until recently, there were plenty of orange juice and ginger ale options too. The girls who were well over twenty weren’t holding back, starting with beer and quickly moving on to cocktails or sours. I, however, was still stuck with my initial ginger ale.

When I looked up, the seat across from me was conspicuously empty.

I hadn’t had a conversation partner since the start. I didn’t want to be surrounded by strangers, so I’d quietly taken a corner seat at the far end, but maybe I’d been too quiet, because the two seats in front of me had been glaringly empty this whole time. The girl to my left had been engrossed in a heated conversation about trendy songs with the person next to her, and I couldn’t find a way to join in. Not wanting to interrupt, I’d ended up living the corner life, sipping my ginger ale bit by bit, almost like I was licking it.

If I finished this drink, I’d have to order a new one. The tablet for placing orders was all the way across the table, and I’d need to ask someone to grab it for me. But to do that, I’d have to raise my voice, and the thought of drawing attention made me nervous because I didn’t know how to act.

…What’s this feeling? Was I always this kind of person?

I thought about it for a while. Where was this timidity coming from?

And then it hit me. It was because I was expecting something.

It was a bit of a shock. I’d thought I wasn’t the type to expect anything from anyone. That’s why it never bothered me if no one expected anything from me. But somewhere along the way, that had changed.

I realized there were people out there worth expecting something from. People who, even if they were rare, might return your goodwill if you showed them some. Ever since I’d realized that, my world had gotten a lot more complicated.

Things used to be simpler. I’d believed that as long as I produced results, the world would shut up and leave me alone. And to get results, all I needed was effort—friends weren’t necessary.

That’s what I’d thought, at least.

“Man, I’m late, I’m late!”

A cheerful voice rang out, and two freshmen girls appeared.

“Sorry, sorry! Wow, everyone’s already going at it, huh!”

The girl walking in front spotted the empty seats in front of me and headed over, waving one hand in front of her face. The girl trailing close behind her poked her in the side with a smile.

“Sorry? Isn’t that, like, kinda old-school? Are you secretly a Showa-era kid or something?”

They must be friends, chatting so casually as they approached.

“Nah, people totally say that. My whole family does!”

“So your whole family’s from the Showa era, huh?”

“Oh? You wanna fight? I’ll knock you out in one go!”

She swung her fists back and forth like a boxer, but no matter how you looked at it, she just looked like a bratty kid throwing a tantrum. What a child.

“Hey, Kyoka, scoot over a bit! I can’t sit if you don’t.”

Poked in the back, the girl who was walking in front took the seat right across from me, at the very end. The other girl sat next to her.

The girl sitting directly across from me had orange-ash hair.

“Ah…”

“Hm?”

The orange-ash-haired girl—called Kyoka-san—looked up when I let out a small sound. Our eyes met.

“Oh! The McDonald’s girl!”

Huh? That’s how she remembered me?

“Uh, yeah. Um… I‘m Asamura Saki.”

“Saki-chan, huh? I’m Kyoka. Written with the characters for ‘mirror’ and ‘flower,’ Mizukami Kyoka. Feel free to call me by my first name.”

She flashed a bright, genuine smile, and seeing it warmed my heart just a little.

The girl sitting next to Kyoka-san spoke up.

“The McDonald’s girl, huh? Nice one, Kyoka! Weren’t you saying you really wanted to meet her again?”

Not just a way of remembering me, but a nickname now?

“Hey, Mayu! I told you not to say that! Ugh, sorry. I got so excited back then. I figured since you’re a freshman, I’d see you again soon, but then we didn’t, and I was like, ‘Huh?’”

“Excited?”

“This girl’s been calling Asamura-san her ‘gal sensei’ and totally idolizing her.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Mayu, stop it! You promised not to tell!”

…What’s this ‘gal sensei’ thing?

“Um, what does that mean?”

Kyoka-san turned her attention from the girl she called Mayu back to me, sticking out her fist with her thumb up.

“Hehe, yeah!”

“…Y-Yeah?”

Hesitantly, I stuck out my fist with my thumb up too. She bumped her fist against mine. What kind of custom was this? I’d never experienced this before. Was this what they called a culture clash?

“Saki-chan, your blonde hair is so pretty, right?”

“Oh… thank you?”

“Why the question mark?”

“I’ve never been told that before.”

“No way, really?”

It was true.

At Suisei High, a college-prep school, there weren’t many girls who dyed their hair as boldly as I did. Sure, some trimmed their eyebrows or did temporary curls that washed out in a day, but I never really connected with the people who did that kind of subtle fashion.

I’d always tried to dress according to my own sense of style, aiming to be appreciated as much as possible. But now that I thought about it, the experience of being told outright that I was “pretty”…

“Not really, I guess.”

Maaya… and maybe Ryo-chin —aka Sato Ryoko-san— might have said something like that. But that’s about it. I didn’t recall ever being told so openly by someone I just met. Suddenly, I remembered the faces of my high school friends and felt a pang of nostalgia.

Back there was my home turf. This izakaya was away territory.

“No way, no way! You’re totally rocking it. You’re like, a full-on gal from every angle!”

I didn’t know the word “gal” could be described as “full-on.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah! Your gorgeous blonde hair, the earrings that peek out and sparkle now and then, your lips with that subtle but glossy lipstick that’s practically begging to be kissed—”

Kissed—? I was caught off guard by the phrase coming from another girl, and I panicked a little. I’d never judged my appearance from that perspective.

“And then, that one-shoulder top with just the right amount of exposure, paired with a delicate chain necklace draped perfectly at your chest—total eye-catcher! And those rings on your wrists, like they were crafted by fairies, and your nails painted meticulously in ocean blue. You’re a gal who wouldn’t embarrass herself anywhere! But there’s this elegance, this intelligence at your core. That’s what makes you a modern gal, a bit different from the old-school ones. Saki-chan, you’re perfect!”

I didn’t expect her to describe my outfit with such literary flair. Was this what you got at Tsukimiya Women’s University… or something?

Still, being described like that made me wonder if my style was more like armor than I thought.

“…Thanks.”

From my perspective, Kyoka-san was the one who was bold, wearing an off-shoulder top despite the lingering chill of the season.

“Your fashion made such an impact on her, she’s been going on about wanting to get to know you.”

Kyoka-san blushed at her friend’s glossy smile.

“I told you not to say that!”

“No need to hide your feelings! I mean, aren’t you usually way more straightforward?”

That did seem like her. I recalled her saying, “You’re kinda different,” right when we first met. Whenever people around me said stuff like that, they always did it from a distance, whispering that I was “weird.” Well, I cut those people out of my life.

Kyoka-san’s “You’re kinda different,” though, felt like she was just saying what was on her mind.

“You… wanted to get to know me?”

“I mean, you’re the first person who ever called me cool!”

“Kyoka gets called ‘cute-sexy’ a lot, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, exactly! So I got super happy! And the person who said it was even cooler than me!”

“Oh, she’s totally smitten.”

“Hey, Saki-chan.”

She shifted her gaze from her friend back to me.

“Wanna be friends? Let’s do it!”

“Huh…?”

I looked at Kyoka-san again.

I’d thought the same thing when we first met, but I really did think her fashion was cool. That impression hadn’t changed today.

Long orange-ash hair, loosely curled at the ends, with some strands draped in front of her body. Her earrings were slightly oversized crescent moons in gold, asymmetrical in size, which was kind of interesting. Her top, as I’d mentioned, was boldly off-shoulder, showing off her tanned shoulders without hesitation. The cinched waist of her high-waisted outfit was tied tightly with a thin belt. To me, this was “cool.”

“Friends… with me?”

“I’m saying it right to your face, aren’t I? Yup, you!”

I wasn’t used to hearing words like that, so I needed to confirm. But this felt like a good opportunity. There were fewer chances to meet people in university than in high school.

“If you’re okay with me…”

“Yes!”

“That’s great, Kyoka!”

Her friend said in a relaxed, gentle tone.

“What’re you talking about? A friend of a friend is a friend! Saki-chan, this is Mayu. Come on, introduce yourself!”

“Kaneko Mayu desu. Just call me Mayu, okay? Can I call you Saki, Asamura-san?”

“Oh, yeah. Call me whatever you like.”

I took a proper look at Mayu-san.

My first impression, same as before, was that she was soft and fluffy.

She didn’t seem our age. She had a slightly mature vibe, with a calm way of speaking and an alto voice that was soothing to the ears. I bet some people could fall for her voice alone. She was wearing a light sky-blue cardigan (folded and placed behind her now), and compared to Kyoka-san, she showed less skin. But once she took off her outer layer, I couldn’t help but notice the size of her chest pushing up her blouse.

“Um… yeah. Nice to meet you, Mayu.”

“Mayu met Saki-chan on the same day as me, and we just totally clicked.”

When I processed her casual words, a weird sound escaped my throat.

“Huh? Wait… you two aren’t, like, old friends?”

“What? No way! I just moved to Tokyo from Fukuoka this spring. Mayu’s a local, so there’s no way we knew each other before. Come on!”

She said “come on,” but how was I supposed to know? Still, to think they met on course registration day and already had this kind of closeness.

“I see…”

“Mayu’s an otaku, but we totally vibe.”

“Hey, I’m just a fan, not an otaku, okay?”

I didn’t get the difference.

Still, they both seemed like good people, and since I’d been freed from my corner life, we started talking about university life and other stuff.

Things were going fine until the conversation took a weird turn when Kyoka-san suddenly asked, mid-meal, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Huh?”

“A boyfriend, I said. Or a sugar daddy, whatever. Basically, do you have someone you’re hooking up with?”

I was a bit thrown off.

Of course, I knew the general rule that when girls got together, love talk tended to start. Ryo-chin loved it especially—her eyes would light up. But this kind of blunt approach was a first for me.

“Kyoka, you’re out! It could be a girlfriend or a sugar mama, you know. Not very considerate.”

“Ugh, too much hassle! But fine, that’s okay too!”

What was okay? What?

“Um…”

“Oh, sorry.”

She apologized out of nowhere. I thought she realized this wasn’t the kind of talk you had with someone you just met, but…

“If you’re gonna ask someone, you gotta share first, right? That wasn’t fair.”

“True. Kyoka, you need to reflect.”

“Ugh, sorry, sorry! So, me? I’ve been single for about three months now. Wanted to get a boyfriend after moving here, but even if I hook up, it doesn’t quite turn into dating.”

“Huh?”

Wasn’t that the wrong order?

“I left Yuuta back in Fukuoka. Kinda regret it now. But I couldn’t tell a young guy with a future ahead of him to follow me, you know? Even if he wasn’t great in bed, a hardworking younger guy is just so cute. Yuuta was adorable.”

The name Yuuta made my heart skip a beat. No, no, not that Yuuta. Not Yuuta.

“So, Saki-chan, you’re not into younger guys?”

That’s not what I meant.

Next, Mayu-san started speaking in her calm, relaxed way.

“Experienced older guys are easier to deal with. Some older guys are still immature, though. I hear it’s easier when the other person—guy or girl—has more experience. With older guys, they don’t get all shy about buying condoms and handle things properly.”

“Oh yeah, back there, I was the one buying them. If I didn’t say anything, he’d just charge right in. Teaching him to wait was such a hassle. I finally got him trained, so it was kinda hard to let him go. But I really wanted to work in entertainment, and I was like, ‘Tokyo or bust.’”

She started mulling over her thoughts alone.

From what I was hearing, both of them already had experience in high school. None of my friends, like Maaya, were like that. I never saw anyone like that at Suisei High. It was April 12th today. It’d been less than two weeks since becoming a university student, and I’d already met two exceptions.

Could it be… no way, but maybe there were tons of girls with this level of experience in high school, and they were just hiding it?

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Gulp.

“I do, but…”

“I knew it! Totally called it! See, Mayu, I told you she definitely has one!”

Kyoka-san said triumphantly, while Mayu-san muttered, “Having a boyfriend and having a hookup aren’t the same thing…” My heart jumped. Mayu-san glanced at me with a slight, mysterious smile… or did she? Kyoka-san, caught up in her excitement, didn’t seem to notice.

“As expected of the gal sensei!”

“Please stop with that nickname.”

“Gal boss?”

That was even worse.

I shook my head vigorously. If I let this slide, I’d be stuck with “gal boss” for the next four years.

After that, Kyoka-san, assuming I was some experienced gal, kept talking, and I couldn’t bring myself to correct her, so I just went along with it. Darn it. I should’ve just admitted I was inexperienced. I should’ve ditched the “gal sensei” title and come clean. Honestly, I didn’t even want that title to begin with.

And so, despite being completely inexperienced, I ended up spending two hours listening to the “experiences” of my two brand-new friends, who I barely knew.

Mentally exhausted, I returned home, ready to crash, when I stepped into the entranceway and heard an “I’m home” from behind me. Asamura-kun came back.

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. That was an overreaction.

“Whoa, you scared me. We got back at almost the same time, huh?”

“Welcome back. Uh… Saki.”

He said “welcome back” before I could say “I’m home,” so I hurriedly responded.

“Oh, I’m home—”

The moment I tried to say his name, Kyoka-san’s earlier words flashed through my mind: “Even if he wasn’t great in bed, a hardworking younger guy is just so cute. Yuuta was adorable.” No, no, not that Yuuta.

Yes, this Yūta was Asamura-kun, my nii-san. Adding “nii-san” in a panic helped me calm my racing heart. No, no, this Yuuta was the inexperienced Yuuta. He wasn’t younger. He was older, even if it was just by a week.

I never thought I’d rely on the “one-week older brother” status to keep my rationality in check.

I escaped to my room like I was fleeing.

Eighteen was the age when you started preparing to become an adult.

Becoming an adult meant that “those kinds of things” were getting closer, too.