Do you know what “yuri” is?
Literally speaking, it’s just the Japanese word for lilies, but around the time I got into high school, I learned that the word has a very different secondary meaning as well. In short: when two girls fall in love, that’s yuri. I guess they call it that because it’s a form of love as beautiful and precious as a flower in bloom.
Why am I bringing this up? Because as far as the world around them was concerned, those two friends of mine were in precisely that sort of relationship. Just about everyone believed that they were the perfect yuri couple.
Their families had been on good terms since the two of them were born, and they’d grown up together as a result. Not only had that given them a deep-seated connection, it had led to them being the fastest of friends imaginable for their whole lives. They were also both absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous, and astonishingly talented to boot.
One of them was the spitting image of a classic princess: so light on her feet she practically floated, and so adorable that just looking at her prompted a powerful urge to protect her. She was also a certifiable prodigy who consistently held the highest grades in our year. Her name was Yuna Momose.
The other was on the opposite end of the spectrum: a classic prince, through and through. She was cool and dashing, from her looks to how she carried herself, and she had the figure of a model. To top it all off, she could play just about any sport at an incredibly high level. Her name was Rinka Aiba.
Either one of my friends would’ve probably stood out in a crowd on her own, but I almost never got the chance to test that theory. The two of them were together pretty much all the time—and they were incredibly affectionate with each other. Their yuri level was off the charts, basically, and so pure and exalted was their relationship that the rest of the students at our school had quickly taken to referring to them collectively as the Sacrosanct, of all things. The space between them was holy ground: a sanctified realm that none would ever dare to enter.
And yet in spite of all that, those nobles within our school’s hierarchy—no, those royals—no, those veritable goddesses who dwelled far up in the heavens above...
I can name all sorts of good things about you, Yotsuba!
Same. I could rattle them off all day.
...were somehow getting worked up over me, the certified commoner! How did that make any sense?! This was the sort of scenario that could only possibly happen in my wildest of dreams, and yet when I looked back down at my phone, I found a spirited conversation about my good points continuing to unfold. And the more it sank in that they really were talking about me, the more painfully embarrassing it became to read...
“Huh? Wait a second... ‘The way you fail all your classes’?! ‘The way you always catch the ball with your face in dodgeball’?! What the heck?!”
Me: You think those are my GOOD points?!
Yes! They make you very charming.
I can see why they might not feel that way from your perspective, though.
I could practically hear the two of them chuckling at my objection. Their replies were as perfectly in sync as always, and my phone just kept dinging away with message after message. Around the time they started spamming me with comedic chat stickers, I reached an inescapable conclusion.
“They’re totally making fun of me!”
So, yeah. I couldn’t really explain how or why, but the two of them were my friends—though we’d only been that way since we’d gotten into high school a little over a year ago. Yes, the two best of gal pals, the ultimate childhood friends, the yuri couple that the entire school watched over with a reverent sense of warmth and pride, the Sacrosanct themselves, were somehow friends with me.
It was a situation so mind-boggling it could never make it into a TV drama, but no matter how many times I pinched my cheeks, I showed no sign of waking up from this long and elaborate dream. That proved that it was, in fact, reality, and confirming that was a relief every time I checked. Still, though, I couldn’t silence that little self-loathing voice in the back of my mind that constantly asked: What if being friends with me is just a phase for them?
I mean, the two of them were incredible! They were incredible, and I was, well...lower than average, at best. I was sure that as far as everyone else was concerned, I was just an obnoxious third wheel sandwiched in the middle of their favorite yuri couple.
Someday, the Sacrosanct will stop being friends with me.
Talk about pessimistic, right? Not to mention downright pathetic... I shook my head to drive that train of thought from my mind and bring myself back to reality. They were my friends, and I had to start focusing on the real problem at hand: how to get them to stop mercilessly teasing me in our group chat.
And yet, looking back on it...my premonition in that moment hadn’t actually been off the mark. In the end, I really did stop being friends with Momose and Aiba. And I don’t mean somewhere in the far-flung future either. We stopped being friends before the rainy season ended; before the blazing heat of summer descended upon our town.
It just happened in a way I never, ever could’ve possibly imagined.