Chapter 4 | The Second Life
“Tonight, I cordially invite you to a party… …Um, is your evening free?”
The message, sent through a messaging app, arrived on Thursday, two days after my snack run with Makura.
The sender was, naturally, Makura. She’s practically the only one who messages me anyway.
“…A party?”
During the break between third and fourth period, I stared at the message, murmuring with a hint of suspicion.
What kind of party could this be…? It feels a bit dubious, but as it happens, I don’t have any tutoring sessions today. Makura knows that, too.
“I’m free.”
I typed the honest reply and hit send. Almost instantly, my phone buzzed with her response.
“Yay! Then let’s meet at my place at 18:00, okay?”
Meeting up—does that mean others will be there?
It’s all a bit vague, but her enthusiastic “yay” puts me at ease for now. I sent a quick “Got it” and turned my attention to preparing for the next class.
＊
That evening, as promised, I pressed the doorbell to Makura’s apartment.
The door swung open almost immediately, and Makura’s head popped out.
“Welcome to the party venue!”
“What’s this party even about?”
I noticed an unfamiliar pair of sandals by the entrance. Who else is here? I started to step inside when—
“Hold up!”
Makura thrust her hand out, halting me mid-step.
“W-What?”
“You can’t come in dressed like that!”
She flashed a mischievous grin.
“Can’t come in?”
“Nope. You’ve gotta follow the party’s dress code.”
“Dress code, huh…”
I shot her a skeptical look, then glanced at her outfit. She was in a plain navy room dress with white stitching as an accent, loose enough to reveal her collarbone, with round buttons running down to her knees.
“…Wait, aren’t you just wearing your usual pajamas?”
“So? Cute, right? It even comes with a pom-pom triangle hat as a bonus. I’ll put it on later for you!”
Sure, the hat would probably suit her, but that’s beside the point.
“So, about this dress code—”
As I spoke, it clicked. Makura stood there in her pajamas, radiating confidence. Something felt off. Then I remembered hearing about it somewhere—a party where everyone wears pajamas…
“That look on your face—you’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”
Makura’s lips curled into a smug smirk.
“Is that what I think this is?”
“Exactly! Tonight, we’re having a blast at a pajama party!”
Mimicking applause with her mouth, she flung the door wide open, ushering me into the entrance. But then—
“Here, I set this out for you, so no worries!”
I looked down to see my spare tracksuit neatly folded in the hallway. She’d planned this from the start.
“A pajama party… I saw it on some info show once. Wasn’t it described as a girls’ night thing…?”
“Yeah, it’s got that vibe! Taking pics together, eating sweets, chatting about love and stuff.”
“Doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here!?”
Just hearing about it made it clear—a guy like me would stick out like a sore thumb in that kind of setting.
“But today’s not like that, so you’re fine! It’s just about having fun in our pajamas. I’ll be waiting in the room!”
With that, Makura picked up the tracksuit and handed it to me.
“Wait, you’re going already?”
I couldn’t help but call after her. Being separated from Makura, even for a moment, made me uneasy. What’s going to happen to me after this…?
“But, Manamichi-kun, you’ve gotta change here… Should I wait for you, though? If you want me to, that is.”
Her voice softened, and she shyly averted her gaze.
This… Even if she turned around, it’d still be insanely awkward.
“…Sorry, go ahead.”
“O-Okay.”
In the end, I let Makura head to the room first, leaving me alone to change in front of the pajama party venue.
＊
If I’d thought about it for a second, it would’ve been obvious.
The glamorous image of a pajama party—girls’ night—had overwhelmed me, clouding my judgment. After changing into my tracksuit and nervously opening the door to the party venue—Makura’s familiar living room—I couldn’t help but relax at the sight before me.
“Yo, you’re late, kid. We’ve already started!”
Yako-san, seated at the low table, raised a beer with a flushed face. The table was littered with opened snack bags, convenience store hot snacks like fried chicken and fries, and PET bottles of juice.
It seems Yako-san is the only other guest.
“H-Hey.”
I gave a small bow as I stepped into the room.
…Right… Makura’s circle of people she’s comfortable with is small, so it should’ve been obvious who’d be here. The sandals at the entrance were a dead giveaway—Yako-san, who lives in the same building. But she’s so far removed from the image of a pajama party.
Yako-san wore a leopard-print T-shirt and gray shorts tied with a white drawstring—an utterly casual pajama look. Sitting cross-legged, she shamelessly showed off her slender, pale legs.
“What’s up, Negoro kid? Staring at my body like that. Don’t tell me you’re—”
“No, I’m just… relieved.”
“Relieved!?”
Relieved to see a familiar face, or rather, relieved that this is just a pajama-clad version of our usual hangout.
“Still, if it’s just us, why bother with pajamas?”
The question slipped out as I settled in. Makura, carrying glasses from the kitchen down the hall, chimed in brightly.
“Oh, that’s because—” she began, “Yako-chan and I were talking about playing some analog board games. Then we figured we’d need more people for that. So we decided to make it a party, and I was like, ‘Pajama party!’”
“I see…”
I wanted to ask why it had to be a pajama party instead of a regular one, but it’s probably just because Makura suggested it. No deeper reason. I let it go.
“Still, they’re taking their time. We can’t start till everyone’s here,” Yako-san said, bringing her beer can to her lips.
“There’s someone else coming?”
As I asked, the doorbell rang with a cheerful ding-dong.
With this group, I could guess who it was. Sure enough, when the door opened, my homeroom teacher, Kumada-sensei, peeked in. Her eyes widened in shock upon seeing me.
“N-Negoro-kun!?”
Realizing something, she hurriedly covered herself with both hands, though she couldn’t hide her whole body. She wore a frilly white negligee with lace accents, her bare feet free of socks. A beige long cardigan, one I’d seen her wear at school, was draped over her arm—likely used to cover her pajamas on the way here.
It seems Kumada-sensei was properly informed about the pajama party.
“Don’t be shy! He’s your student, right?” Yako-san teased with a grin.
“That’s exactly why it’s a problem…” Kumada-sensei muttered, her face flushing as she turned to me. “Hey, Negoro-kun.”
“Yes?”
“Please, keep today—my outfit—a secret.”
“Of course.”
“If you tell anyone, I’ll have you expelled.”
“Wait, wait, I really won’t tell! Besides, do you even have that kind of authority?”
“I don’t, so I’ll use every trick in the book to force you to drop out.”
“That’s even scarier!?”
I don’t have anyone to tell anyway, so it’s a non-issue. For the record, Kumada-sensei is petite with a youthful face and a gentle smile, making her popular among students. Even the guys like her, and if I mentioned seeing her in pajamas, some might get jealous.
Glancing at her again, I couldn’t help but think: The pajama-clad figure of a normally prim and proper adult woman… Looking at it again, it’s oddly unsettling. Before I knew it, my eyes were drawn to her.
“…Stare.”
I turned to see Makura right beside me, giving me a sullen look for no apparent reason.
“W-What?”
“Nothing.”
Her reply was sharp, followed by a quiet, ominous mutter. “I hope you stub your pinky toe on the corner of a dresser.”
A curse that promises lingering pain. What’s her deal…?
While we were having that exchange, Kumada-sensei entered the room and started chatting with Yako-san.
“I thought this was a girls’ night… Having a boy here makes it feel a bit scandalous, doesn’t it?”
“Oi, perv. He’s a student. …Would’ve been better if the gender ratio was even, though.”
What kind of conversation are these two having…?
＊
Today’s game, prepared by Yako-san, was a board game called Life. It has a roulette wheel in the center of the board, which you spin to move through spaces with various events, aiming for the goal.
I’d played a similar video game with Makura before, so I had the gist, but spinning an analog roulette was new. We each spun once to determine the order, going clockwise from the highest number: Makura, Yako-san, Kumada-sensei, then me.
We each picked a different-colored car piece, stuck a single human peg in it, and set up. Snacks and juice (booze for the two adults) were ready, and the game began.
“Alright, here we go!” Makura said energetically, spinning the roulette with gusto.
Early on, there were spaces for choosing a career. Makura landed on one that let her become an “Investor.”
“Yes! My dream job!” she exclaimed.
“…You just want that because you don’t have to leave the house, right?” I asked.
“As expected of Manamichi-kun, you get me! Pajama-friendly, stay-at-home perfection! I’m gonna be the Investment King!”
Makura gleefully took the career card with the job’s illustration and salary details. Next was Yako-san’s turn. She landed on the “Manga Artist” space.
“Hmm, manga artist, huh?”
“Yako-chan, a gag manga artist?” Makura asked with a laugh.
“If I’m drawing, it’d be grown-up romance manga.”
“What, R18!?” Kumada-sensei piped up.
“Nah, just the kind you’d see in a shoujo magazine. But I hear being a manga artist is a gamble…”
Yako-san brushed off Kumada-sensei’s comment, looking genuinely conflicted.
“Can you skip the career on the space you land on?” I asked.
“Yup! You can spin again next turn and pick the career on the space you land on. But if you roll a big number and pass the job-hunting zone, your dreams crash, and you end up a freeter,” Makura explained.
“Tch, I can’t live as a freeter. I’ve got a car, and I want a house someday. I’m gonna hit it big with manga!”
Inspired by Makura’s enthusiasm, Yako-san settled on becoming a manga artist.
Next, Kumada-sensei spun the roulette and landed squarely on the “Teacher” space.
“It’s your second life, you know? You’re okay with that?” Yako-san asked, raising an eyebrow.
Kumada-sensei nodded, choosing to stick with teaching. She must genuinely enjoy her real-life job.
Finally, my turn. I spun a “6” and landed on a space marked “Actor.”
“Pfft, the kid’s making his showbiz debut!” Yako-san burst out laughing for some reason.
“Forget studying—time to hone your acting skills,” Kumada-sensei added with a smirk.
“It might actually suit you, Manamichi-kun,” Makura chimed in. “You’ve got a refined face, and you’re always so calm. Your acting would probably stand out.”
“Oho, what’s this? Koiro’s backing the kid up? How sweet,” Yako-san teased, her smirk widening.
Makura’s face flushed red. “I-It’s not like that! I just said what I thought!”
Do I have a refined face? I wouldn’t know, no one’s ever said that before. It’s kind of embarrassing. I thought about thanking her, but with Yako-san’s teasing, I missed my chance and moved on with the game.
We took turns spinning the roulette, moving our pieces, and reacting to the events on the spaces we landed on.
“Yes! I won the shopping street raffle! 3,000 yen!”
“What? Caught a trendy disease, skip one turn?”
“Picked up a lost wallet and turned it in to the police. 5,000 yen! That’s me!”
“Fell into a pit trap and got injured. Pay 3,000 yen… Who dug this thing!?”
We got so caught up in the game, chattering excitedly, that we forgot to touch the snacks. By the way, the money had a $ symbol, but we all called it yen and ignored the discrepancy.
Kumada-sensei was on a hot streak, consistently rolling high numbers. She surged ahead and reached a mandatory stop space.
“What’s this… Marriage!?” she exclaimed.
“Marriage!?” Yako-san echoed, leaning forward in surprise.
“Yes! I reached the goal! I win!” Kumada-sensei declared.
“You’re beating me to the goal… That’s not fair…” Yako-san muttered.
“No, marriage isn’t the goal…” Makura interjected, giving the two adults an exasperated look.
“Wait a sec. There’s more written here,” I said, and all eyes turned back to the space.
Makura read the details aloud. “Spin the roulette to decide whether to marry. If it’s even, you marry, put a partner in your car’s passenger seat, and collect 3,000 yen from everyone. If it’s odd, you don’t marry.”
“What!? A life-altering choice at a place like this?”
“That’s brutal… I can’t stand the idea of staying single forever…”
Just spin the roulette already… With shaking fingers, Kumada-sensei gave it a slow spin. The needle stopped on “2.”
“Butterfly, today, hm-hm-hmm~♪” she hummed, half-remembering a wedding song, as she stuck a partner peg in her car.
“Tch, c-congrats,” Yako-san grumbled, handing over 3,000 yen.
“It’s a celebration, so let’s all toast!” Makura said, raising her juice glass. We followed suit, clinking our drinks.
The next to reach the marriage space was Makura. “Yako-chan, I’m ahead!” she taunted.
“Grr!” Yako-san growled.
Makura rolled an even number, successfully marrying. “Damn it, I’m totally broke from all these wedding gifts. Why do I have to relive the same pain as in real life…? Back to a bean sprout diet for a while…” Yako-san sighed, glancing at her measly two 1,000-yen bills.
Meanwhile, I, who started later, reached the marriage space before Yako-san. “You’re an actor, right? You know what to do. Don’t let your fans down,” she teased.
“E-Even if you say that… Love conquers all, you know,” I replied, spinning the roulette. It landed on “4.”
““Congrats!”” Makura stood up to clap, and Kumada-sensei held out her beer can for another toast.
“Oi, Koiro, Satomi, you’re totally just messing around! Kid, read the room!” Yako-san snapped.
“Well, I think it’s just how it goes…” I said, feeling like I was reading the room.
“Is your partner an actress? A model?” Kumada-sensei asked.
“Uh, just a regular woman.”
“Kyaa!” Sensei and Makura squealed, hyping it up.
“Seriously…? Taking on debt just to celebrate someone else’s wedding? What’s that about…” Yako-san muttered hollowly, preparing a promissory note.
“Well, it’s Yako-chan’s turn next,” Makura said.
“Right. The goal’s in sight! It’s just a one-in-two chance now,” Kumada-sensei added.
“Grr, I won’t miss!” Yako-san declared, spinning the roulette with determination. It landed on “2.”
As usual, barely any progress. Then, tragedy struck. Yako-san’s face paled as she read the space. “Fell in love at first sight and bought a puppy. Pay 20,000 yen…!? N-No, wait, a dog is bad news for a single woman!”
“Oof, that’ll delay your marriage prospects,” Kumada-sensei said sympathetically.
“Aaaagh!” Yako-san groaned.
A manga artist fighting deadlines, coming home late to a house where only a pet dog waits. A life consumed by work. Why did I choose this career? Before I know it, I’m past thirty, then forty. Unable to hide my desperation, I go on dates with new people, but the follow-up rate is under 10%…
The game and reality were blending together.
As expected, when Yako-san finally reached the marriage space, she rolled an odd number. Makura called it “collecting a flag.”
Still driving a lonely car with just one passenger, Yako-san muttered, “What is this, life…?”
＊
The game was nearing its end.
“Lined up for a popular card game’s release, but it sold out right in front of me. Pay 5,000 yen.”
“Went viral on SNS for all the wrong reasons. Skip one turn.”
“Won a lottery for a new robot release. Pay 50,000 yen.”
I’d started strong but kept landing on bad-luck spaces, even racking up debt in the gambling zone. My cash and rank plummeted to last place. Meanwhile, Makura ranked up as an investor, truly becoming the Investment King. Kumada-sensei, blessed with kids, drove a car with six passengers at full speed.
Yako-san, who chose work over a woman’s happiness at the marriage space, saw her luck turn. She landed on positive spaces—her pet dog was scouted as a model, even starring in dramas, outshining me, the actor, in the industry.
“Oho, the struggling actor’s payday is barely more than a freeter’s? I’d make you drink the dirt from my Leon’s claws if I could,” Yako-san taunted, her voice sharp with revenge. Since confirming her single status, she’d been drinking heavily and was clearly drunk. She’d even named her pet dog…
There’s no way I can turn this around, is there? Kumada-sensei, in the lead, and Makura, right behind her, were just one or two turns from the goal.
“Mgh…” …It’s quietly frustrating.
My turn ended, and Makura, scanning the spaces ahead, let out a loud “Oh!”
“Look at this! There’s a crazy one!” she exclaimed.
“Hm? What?” I leaned forward slightly.
Kumada-sensei and Yako-san squinted at the space Makura pointed to.
“Go on a space trip. Pay 300,000 yen,” Makura read.
“Tch, 300!? Land there, and you’re done for,” Kumada-sensei said.
“Oh yeah, that classic big-spender space right before the goal,” Yako-san added, crossing her arms.
“Gotta be careful…” Makura murmured, spinning the roulette cautiously. She stopped just shy of the space trip.
Yako-san spun next, followed by Kumada-sensei.
“‘10’!” Kumada-sensei, in first place, reached the goal. “Good thing I didn’t get sent to space!”
“Ugh, I didn’t make it in time…”
My turn ended, and it was Makura’s turn again. She’d reach the goal with a “5” or higher. As she placed her finger on the roulette, someone muttered softly.
“But, like… is it really okay to end it like this?”
It was Yako-san. Makura looked up with an “Eh?”
“I mean, it’s your second life, right? Instead of just reaching the goal, wouldn’t it be better to go to space?”
“But that defeats the purpose of the game…” Kumada-sensei said.
“Sure, but reaching the goal early just gets you prize money, right? I think there’s something more important than money. ‘Cause this is life, you know?”
Drunk and flushed, Yako-san spoke with unexpected passion.
She’s off the mark. This is just a game called Life. The winner is the one with the most money at the end. Our goal is simple: make more money. Everyone knew that.
But in this short hour, we’d grown attached to our pieces, our avatars, living our second lives through them.
“Well, here I go,” Makura said hesitantly, spinning the roulette. She didn’t land on the space trip and reached the goal after Kumada-sensei.
“Ah…” A small murmur escaped her.
“I’m gonna achieve something big!” Yako-san declared, reaching for the roulette. We watched in silence as she spun. The needle stopped on “9.” She let out a short “Tch.”
“Kid, I’m counting on you…” Her car passed the space trip and slid into the goal.
Counting on me…?
Going to space in a game has no real value. There were still money-earning spaces before the goal, and aiming for those to climb even one rank higher was the smart move. But Yako-san’s words echoed in my mind: ‘Cause this is life, you know?
This is life. The space trip itself doesn’t mean much. What matters is how you choose to live. Maybe it’s not a bad idea to try living a way I haven’t before, right here on this board, starting today.
But…
“One, two, three, four—seven. Kid, if you want to go to space in one shot, roll a ‘7’!” Yako-san counted the spaces, her voice eager.
I nodded but couldn’t shake my lingering hesitation. “…But I’m already drowning in debt… There’s no way I can afford a space trip…”
That’s right.
Even if I’m determined to live differently in this second life, there are parts of me that can’t change.
I’m already struggling with promissory notes. I can’t burden others for my dreams alone, especially if this is life, not just a game.
“Kid… But an opportunity like this won’t come again…” Yako-san urged, her voice tinged with drunken fervor.
“Still, there’s nothing I can…” I trailed off, hesitating to spin the roulette.
A voice broke through my indecision. “Manamichi-kun, here…”
Something was pressed into my hand from beside me—a stack of bills.
“Makura…?” I looked at her, startled.
She met my gaze with a deep nod. “Use it, Manamichi-kun.”
“A-Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m entrusting my dream to you.”
I glanced at the bills—about twenty 10,000-yen notes. “Sorry, that’s all I have,” Makura added softly.
“Thank you. Really.”
Another voice chimed in. “As a homeroom teacher, I have to support my student’s dreams.”
Kumada-sensei counted out some bills and handed them over with a smile.
“S-Sensei, thank you so much…!” I stammered.
“Come back safely, okay?” She gave a thumbs-up, her laugh light and encouraging.
“Looks like the money’s sorted,” Yako-san said. “Alright, I’ll draw a manga about your epic feat. The miraculous life of a struggling actor. Kid, you know what to do.”
I nodded firmly. At this point, I had to do it. My fingertips brushed the roulette, and I heard someone catch their breath. Swallowing hard, I put strength into my fingers and spun the wheel.
“Here goes!” I said, voice sharp with resolve.
The roulette spun, numbers blurring into streaks of color. The momentum slowed, the needle’s clicks growing farther apart. Numbers came into focus—4, 5, 6… 7—
“Stop!” I shouted instinctively.
The needle teetered between “7” and “8,” then recoiled, settling firmly on “7” as the roulette stilled.
“Yes, you did it!” Yako-san leapt up, Makura following, throwing her arms around her. Kumada-sensei stood, raising both hands in a victory pose, exchanging high-fives with everyone.
I slumped back, my tension draining as if my strength had fled. It really happened—a “7”… I actually pulled it off…
Letting out the surging emotions, I shouted, “Alright!” with all my might.
With everyone’s help, I successfully set off for space. A wave of accomplishment and emotion washed over me. Everyone seemed satisfied, too, and the final money tally after the goal was left vague. We raised our glasses in a toast, slipping into celebration mode.
As time passed and my excitement settled, a question lingered in my mind. This was my first time playing the Game of Life… but was this really the right way to enjoy it…?
