April 12th (Tuesday) – Ayase Saki

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

A welcome party for the new students. It had seemed like a good idea to come, but now that I was here, I had no idea how to actually interact with anyone. Seriously, I’m just not cut out for this kind of thing.

The long wooden table of the izakaya was crowded with dishes from the all-you-can-eat-and-drink menu. For freshmen who couldn’t drink, pitchers of oolong tea were set out, roughly one for every four people. But since most of the girls were, until recently, high school students, drinks like orange juice and ginger ale were just as common. The students who were well over twenty, however, had started with beer without a moment’s hesitation and were already moving on to cocktails and sours. I was still nursing my first glass.

When I lifted my head, I saw nothing but the empty seat across from me.

I hadn’t managed to talk to a single person. Not wanting to be surrounded by strangers, I had tucked myself into a corner seat in the back. Perhaps I’d been a little too quiet, though, because the two seats directly opposite me remained glaringly empty. The girl to my left had been passionately dissecting some popular song with the person next to her for a while now, and there was no room for me to jump in. Unwilling to interrupt, I resigned myself to my corner-dwelling existence, sipping my ginger ale so slowly it felt like I was just licking the rim of the glass.

Once I finished this, I’d have to order another drink. The ordering tablet had migrated to the far side of the table, and I couldn’t get it without asking someone to pass it over. But that would mean raising my voice, and the thought of drawing attention to myself was terrifying. I wouldn’t know how to act.

…What is this? Hang on, was I always this much of a coward?

I mulled it over. Where was this timidness coming from?

And then it hit me. It was because I was getting my hopes up.

The realization was a bit of a shock. I’d always intended not to expect anything from anyone; that way, I wouldn’t care if no one expected anything from me. But somewhere along the line, that had changed.

I had learned that there were people in the world worth having expectations for. That while not everyone would return your goodwill, the possibility of meeting someone who would wasn’t zero. Since realizing that, my world had become infinitely more complex.

It used to be so much simpler. I believed that as long as I produced results, the world would have no choice but to shut up. And to get results, I needed effort, not friends.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, a cheerful voice cut through the din.

“Man, I’m late, I’m late!”

Two freshmen appeared at the edge of our seating area.

“My b, my b! Whoa, looks like everyone’s already gettin’ into it!”

The girl leading the way waved a hand in apology, her eyes scanning the room before landing on the empty seats in front of me. As she headed over, the girl following close behind poked her smiling friend in the side.

“Isn’t ‘my b’ like, kinda old? Are you secretly from the Showa era or somethin’?”

Their easy banter told me they were already good friends.

“Nah, people say it all the time. Everyone in my family says it!”

“So they’re all from the Showa era, huh~”

“Oh? You wanna fight?” the first girl challenged, pumping her fists like a boxer. “I’ll take you up on that, payment in full.”

She was trying to act tough, like a boy, but she just looked like a brat throwing a tantrum.

Is she a child?

“Hey, Kyouka. Scoot over a bit. I can’t sit down like this.”

Prodded from behind, the girl called Kyouka slid into the innermost seat—directly across from me. Her friend sat down right next to her.

The girl who sat before me had vibrant orange-ash hair.

“Ah…”

“Hm?”

The sound had escaped my lips unintentionally. The girl with the orange-ash hair—Kyouka—looked up, and our eyes met.

“Oh, the girl from McDonald’s!” she exclaimed.

Eh? That’s how you remember me?

“Uh, yeah. Um… It’s Asamura Saki.”

“Saki-chan, huh? I’m Kyouka. Spelled with the characters for ‘mirror’ and ‘flower.’ Mizukami Kyouka,” she said, flashing a brilliant grin. “You can just call me by my first name, ’kay?”

Her smile was so bright and genuine that it seemed to have no hidden meaning, and seeing it warmed my own heart.

The girl sitting next to her chimed in. “It’s the girl from McDonald’s~ That’s great, Kyouka. You’ve been wanting to see her again, right?”

So it’s not just how she remembers me, it’s my official nickname now.

“Hey, Mayu! I told you not to say that!” Kyouka protested before turning back to me. “Ah, sorry. It’s just, I got so happy back then. I figured you were a freshman so I’d see you again soon, but then I just didn’t, for some reason. I was startin’ to wonder what was up.”

“Happy?” I asked, confused.

“This one’s been arbitrarily worshipping you as her ‘Gyaru Master,’ Saki-san,” Mayu explained with a sly smile.

“Hey, hey, hey, Mayu! You promised you wouldn’t say that!”

…What in the world is a “Gyaru Master”?

“Um… what does that mean?”

Kyouka turned her attention from Mayu back to me. She stuck out her fist, thumb held high.

“Ehehe. Yeah!”

“…Y-Yeah?”

I timidly copied the gesture, and Kyouka gently bumped her fist against mine. What kind of culture is this? I’ve never experienced anything like it. Could this be what they call culture shock?

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

“Ah… thank you?”

“Why the question mark?”

“I’ve never really been told that before.”

“No way.”

But it was true.

Suisei High was a college-prep school, so girls who dyed their hair as blatantly as I did were a tiny minority. Sure, there were plenty who touched up their eyebrows or curled their hair for a day, but I never associated with the types who were into that sort of “hidden” fashion.

I had meticulously crafted my appearance according to my own sensibilities, aiming to be evaluated as highly as possible. But the experience of someone just telling me I was “pretty”…

“I guess not,” I admitted.

Maybe Maaya or… Ryo-chin—Satou Ryouko-san—might have said it before, but that was about it. I couldn’t recall a near-stranger ever complimenting me so openly. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I thought of my high school friends.

That was my home turf. This izakaya was enemy territory.

“No, no, no. It’s totally cool,” Kyouka insisted. “No matter how you look at it, you’re a respectable gyaru!”

I’d never imagined the word “respectable” could be used to describe a gyaru.

“You think so?”

“Yeah! That beautiful blonde hair, the piercing that peeks out and shines every now and then. Your lips aren’t gaudy, but they’re so moist they make me wanna suck on ’em—”

Suck on—! The expression was so unlike something a girl would say that I panicked for a second, which made me feel bad. I’d certainly never thought about my own appearance from that perspective.

“And then, and then!” she continued, leaning forward with excitement. “You’ve got that one-shoulder top that shows a lot of skin, and the thin chain accessory dropping down to your chest guides the eyes perfectly! It’s insane, right?! The ring on your wrist is a delicate silver circlet, like something a fairy would make. And your nails are carefully painted the blue of the sea… you’re a gyaru you wouldn’t be ashamed to show anywhere! And yet, there’s an elegance, or rather, an intelligence at your core. That’s what makes you feel like a modern gyaru, a little different from the old days. Saki-chan, you’re perfect!”

I never expected someone to describe my outfit with so many literary expressions. I guess this is Tsukinomiya Women’s University for you…? Then again, hearing her describe it all like that made me wonder how effective my appearance really was as armor.

“…Thanks.”

From my perspective, Kyouka, who was baring both shoulders despite the lingering spring chill, was the one being far more aggressive with her fashion.

“Asamura-san’s style made a huge impact on her, you see~” Mayu added with a bewitching smile. “She’s been saying she wanted to get to know you forever.”

Kyouka blushed. “I told you not to say that.”

“There’s no need to hide your goodwill,” Mayu teased. “Besides, aren’t you usually more direct?”

I had a feeling that was true. I remembered how she’d suddenly called me “weird” when we first met. When people around me used that word, it was always after putting some distance between us. That girl is weird, they’d whisper. Of course, I was the one who cut those people off in the end.

In contrast, Kyouka’s “you’re weird” had felt like she was just saying exactly what was on her mind.

“You… wanted to get to know me?” I asked her.

“Because that was the first time anyone ever called me cool, duh!” she exclaimed.

“Kyouka tends to get called ‘erotic-cute,’ right?” Mayu added.

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

“Oh my~ You’ve really fallen head over heels.”

“Hey, Saki-chan,” Kyouka said, turning her gaze from her friend back to me. “Let’s be friends, okay? Please!”

“Eh…?”

I looked at Kyouka again. Just like when we first met, I thought her fashion was cool. That impression hadn’t changed. Her long, orange-ash hair was loosely curled at the ends, with a few strands hanging artfully in front of her. Her earrings were large, golden crescents, interestingly asymmetrical. Her top, as I’d noted, was a bold off-the-shoulder number that generously exposed her sun-kissed shoulders, and a thin belt cinched the narrowest part of her high-waisted outfit. To me, this was undeniably “cool.”

“Friends? With me?”

“I’m sayin’ it right in front of you. Yes, you.”

It wasn’t a phrase I was used to hearing, so I’d needed confirmation. But I couldn’t help but think this might be a good opportunity. The chances to meet new people in college were far more limited than in high school.

“If you’re okay with me…”

“Yes!” she cheered.

“That’s great, isn’t it, Kyouka?” her friend said in a relaxed, gentle tone.

“What’re you talkin’ about? A friend of a friend is a friend! Saki-chan, this is Mayu. C’mon, c’mon. Introduce yourself!”

“I’m Kaneko Mayu,” she said smoothly. “You can call me Mayu. Saki-san, can I call you Saki?”

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

This time, I took a proper look at Mayu. My first impression, same as before, was that she was “fluffy.” She seemed slightly more mature than the rest of us, with a calm way of speaking and a pleasant alto voice that I imagined some people would fall for on its own. She wore a light blue, thin cardigan, now folded behind her, and showed less skin than Kyouka. But when she had taken off her outerwear, I couldn’t help but notice the size of her chest, which pressed against her blouse.

“Um… yes. Nice to meet you, Mayu.”

“I met Mayu on the same day as you, Saki-chan,” Kyouka explained. “We just, like, totally hit it off.”

When I processed those casually spoken words, a strange sound caught in the back of my throat.

“Huh? Um… so you two aren’t old friends?”

“Eh? No way. I just came to Tokyo from Fukuoka this spring. Mayu’s from around here, so there’s no way we’d have known each other before. Seriously!”

She said “Seriously!” as if I should have known, but there was no way I could have. Still, to be this close after just meeting on the day of class registration…

“I see…”

“Mayu’s an otaku, but we really hit it off,” Kyouka added.

“Hey, I’m just a maniac, not an otaku, okay?” Mayu corrected her gently.

I didn’t really understand the difference.

Still, they both seemed like nice people, and I was relieved to be free from my solitary corner. We started talking about various things, mostly about college life.

That part was fine, but the conversation started to drift in a slightly strange direction when Kyouka, mid-meal, suddenly asked, “So, you got a boyfriend?”

“Eh?”

“A boyfriend. Or a sugar daddy, whatever. Basically, you got someone to do it with?”

I was a little confused.

Of course, I knew that when girls got together, talk often turned to romance. Ryo-chin especially loved it; her eyes would sparkle in a way they didn’t for anything else. But… how do I put it… I’d never had someone bring it up quite like that before.

“Kyouka, that’s a foul,” Mayu chided. “Her partner could be a girlfriend, or her mom, y’know? You’re not being considerate.”

“What a pain! But hey, that’s OK too!”

What’s OK, what.

“Um…”

“Ah. Sorry.”

Kyouka apologized out of the blue. I thought for a moment she’d realized it wasn’t a conversation to have with someone she’d just met—but then she continued.

“If you’re gonna ask someone else, you gotta start with yourself, right?! That wasn’t fair of me.”

“True. Kyouka, you should reflect on that,” Mayu agreed sagely.

“Yeah, my b, my b. Me, I’ve been single for about three months now. I wanted to get a boyfriend after comin’ here, but even if we do it, it never leads to dating.”

“Huh?”

Isn’t the order backward?

“I wonder if I made a mistake leaving Yuuta back in Fukuoka,” she mused. “But then again, I can’t ask a promising young guy to follow me. Younger guys who might not be good but try their best are great, y’know? Yuuta was so cute.”

The name Yuuta made my heart skip a beat. No, no. That Yuuta is not my Asamura-kun.

“I see. Guess you’re not into younger guys, Saki-chan.”

That wasn’t what I meant, either.

Next, Mayu began to speak in her characteristically gentle manner.

“It’s easier to leave it to an older, more experienced partner. Some older people are restless, though. But I hear it’s easier when your partner, male or female, has more experience. If they’re older, they’ll buy condoms properly without getting all embarrassed about it.”

“Come to think of it, I was the one buying them back home,” Kyouka recalled. “If you don’t tell them, they try to rush right into it. It was a pain teaching them to ‘wait.’ Now that I finally taught him, maybe it was a waste to let him go. But then again, I really wanted to get a job in the entertainment industry. So I thought, ‘Then it’s gotta be Tokyo.’”

She seemed to have gotten lost wrestling with her own dilemma.

However, from what I was hearing, these two were already experienced since their high school days. I didn’t have anyone like that among my friends back at Suisei High. I hadn’t seen anyone like that at all. Today was April 12th. It hadn’t even been two weeks since we’d become university students. And yet, I’d already met two exceptions at once.

Could it be… it couldn’t be, but could it be that there were actually lots of girls with this much experience in high school, and they were all just hiding it?

“So, you got a boyfriend?” Kyouka asked again, pulling me from my thoughts.

Guh.

“I do, but…”

“I knew it! I thought so!” she crowed triumphantly. “You definitely have one. See, see, Mayu, just like I said, right?!”

As Kyouka celebrated, Mayu muttered beside her, “Having a boyfriend and having a sex partner are two different things, though…” My heart leaped. Mayu looked at me and gave a faintly mysterious smile… or did she? The excited Kyouka didn’t seem to have noticed.

“As expected of the Gyaru Master!”

“Please, stop with that title.”

“The Gyaru Gang Leader?”

That’s even worse.

I shook my head vigorously. If I let that slide here, I’d definitely be known as the Gyaru Gang Leader for the next four years.

After that, Kyouka, who had completely misunderstood me as an experienced peer, kept the conversation going. I couldn’t bring myself to confess that I was, in fact, completely inexperienced, so I just tried my best to go along with it.

Crap. I should have just been honest. Even if it meant giving up the title of Gyaru Master, I should have come clean. In fact, I never even wanted the title in the first place.

And so, despite my utter lack of experience, I ended up spending two hours listening to my two brand-new friends recount their various ‘experiences’ in vivid detail.

I came home mentally exhausted, planning to head straight for my room and fall into bed. I was just making my way down the hallway from the entrance when Asamura-kun came home with a quiet, “I’m home.”

I was so startled I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest. What an overreaction.

“That’s surprising. We got home at almost the same time.”

“Welcome home. Um… Saki.”

He said “welcome home” before I could say “welcome back,” so I hurried to return the greeting.

“Ah, welcome back—”

But just as I was about to say his name, Kyouka’s words flashed through my mind: “Younger guys who might not be good but the ones that try their best are great, y’know? Yuuta was so cute.”

No, no. That Yuuta is not my Asamura-kun.

“—Yuuta-nii-san.”

Right, this Yuuta is Asamura-kun and my brother. Thanks to the “nii-san” I hastily tacked on, my racing heart began to calm down. No, no. This Yuuta is the inexperienced Yuuta. And he’s not younger, either. He’s older, even if it’s only by a week.

I never thought I’d have to entrust my sanity to the title of “older brother for a week,” a title he himself had once called unfair.

I practically fled to my room.

The age of eighteen is a time to start preparing for adulthood.

And becoming an adult meant that “that sort of thing” was also getting closer.