“………You think?” She’d stopped frowning over Fushimi’s short skirt, and a tender, shy smile bloomed on her face. “You look cool, too.” Embarrassment suddenly hit me, and all I could say was “Thanks…” Torigoe looked embarrassed, too, and her eyes were darting around the hallway. The woman from a moment ago poked her head out and asked, “Do you want me to take your picture?” Torigoe nodded repeatedly. “Please.” She handed the woman her phone, and we stood in the hallway with the garden behind us. “Stand a little closer together!” We scooted ever so slightly toward each other. “Closer!” Then Torigoe’s shoulder bumped into my arm. ““Ah.”” When we yelped in unison, the lady grinned and winked. Torigoe shook her head in response. Then they did it again. Wink, shake. Wink, shake. Wink, shake. Wink, shake… Their alien communication ritual eventually stopped once Torigoe moved in and locked arms with me. “J-just for a moment, okay?” She was red all the way to her ears, almost on the verge of tears. It was then that I heard the shutter click. The woman took a few pictures, and once Torigoe had her phone back, she looked them over. “I’m so red in the face… How embarrassing… Geez.” Wondering what she was so embarrassed about, I sneaked a peek at her phone. The photo showed a beet-red Torigoe linking arms with me as I smiled nervously. Behind us…a girl dressed as a police officer was shooting us a dead-eyed stare from the garden. What the heck…? She’s terrifying… She looked scarier than a ghost. “Who knows what she might do to us if she catches us,” said Torigoe. “We better hurry.” Torigoe thanked the lady for the pictures and rushed over to the tea ceremony area. Thankfully (?) Fushimi didn’t find us, and we grabbed a seat under a red umbrella out in the schoolyard. We enjoyed tea and snacks alongside other kimono-clad students and locals. Apparently, this was a casual kind of tea ceremony; I was relieved no one had started nitpicking my etiquette. Torigoe explained to me that there was a tea ceremony space and kimono rental this year because a senior in the student council happened to be studying the art of tea. After wandering around the school in kimonos for a while, our time was up, and we returned them and changed back into our uniforms. “Do you want a copy of the picture from earlier?” Torigoe asked. “Sure. Why not?” Torigoe looked at her phone with a sweet smile. What’s so funny about sending me a picture? Eventually, the file reached my phone, and I opened it up to see. It was the picture without Fushimi in the background—just the two of us in kimonos with my tense smile and Torigoe’s red face. Thanks to the woman’s instructions, we’d ended up really close together. It was a picture to remember in a different way from the one we’d taken on the school field trip. “Takamori, what’re you doing for the closing event?” Torigoe asked. “I’m thinking about joining in this time.” “I noticed you heading home right away last year, so I figured you’d do that again…” “Well, Fushimi asked me to dance this year.” It was a promise we’d made during summer break. At the time, I’d agreed easily, not really understanding what she meant. Knowing Fushimi, she would understand if I changed my mind. I’d simply have to give her a proper reason and she’d be fine with breaking the promise. The closer we got to the school festival, the more people talked about the closing dance party. It was clearly a huge deal for the students. Most of the couples dancing were boyfriend and girlfriend, and for those who weren’t, it was like a declaration that they were now dating. “I see,” said Torigoe. The distant hustle and bustle of the festival echoed softly in the quiet hallway. “My sister…Kurumi and my mom will be here soon. I’ll go meet them at the gate.” Torigoe put her phone away and walked off. Then she stopped and turned around. “Takamori,” she said with determination on her face. “You don’t have to force yourself.” Force myself? What does she mean? I started to say, “Torigoe, what do you—?” “Nothing. Forget it.” But she cut me off and shook her head, a troubled smile on her face. Torigoe seemed to be analyzing me lately. She often asked Mana about me, or told me to think about things, or asked me to define various concepts. Had she finally reached a satisfying conclusion? Forcing myself clearly had something to do with Fushimi. I didn’t feel like I was forcing myself to do anything. Although I did feel gears realigning in my brain from time to time in a weird way. Forcing myself… Forcing myself… “Ryou, Hina’s here to play.” I remembered a time in my life when hearing my mom say those words had made me feel nauseated. I was pretty young back then, and something had happened that made me stop wanting to be around Fushimi. Maybe I was just tired of hanging out with her, or maybe I’d gotten bored of playing house all the time… In any case, Mom found it weird that I didn’t want to see her, and she let her inside, just as she always did. “What’re we playing today, Ryou?” I think she made me play house that day, too. “Why are you here?” I asked her that over and over again. “Because I like you and want to play with you.” She always gave me the same reply, with the same blithe smile. Every time she said it, I felt myself grow more and more callous. I thought, You don’t actually like me. I don’t think I ever said it out loud. I just bottled it up and forced myself to play along with her. Torigoe’s words had unlocked that awful memory. But now that I thought about it, something felt off. Was Fushimi really like that when she was young? She kept saying she liked me, even though I was sure she didn’t. I’d been convinced she was lying, even though I knew better than anyone that she wasn’t the type to do something like that. So why had I thought she was lying? Maybe the gears in my head had realigned because somewhere, deep down, I thought I was being lied to. Fushimi? Telling lies? I just couldn’t believe it. Just then, the loud sound of a whistle echoed through the hallway. Taken aback, I turned toward the source and found Fushimi dressed in her police uniform. The moment our eyes met, she pointed a toy gun at me. “You’re under arrest! ” She struck the kind of cute pose that would be followed with a glimmering effect in a manga. I stared at her, completely confused. Torigoe’s complaints were accurate—Fushimi’s skirt was so short that even this simple pose exposed a fair bit of her tights-clad thighs. Her shirt was short, too, revealing her navel when she moved. “S-say something!” she called out. “You’re making me look like an idiot!” “Oh, sorry. I was just lost in thought.” “What were you thinking about while staring at your childhood friend in cosplay?!” Fushimi pouted, then smirked. “Could it be I look so cute, you instantly fell for me?” “You look good. It’s a little risqué, but it seems like you’re pretty into it.” “They made me wear this,” she said, emphasizing that it wasn’t her choice. Maybe she had been desensitized after seeing her childhood friend in that sexy nurse outfit. “So, about the closing party,” I said. Fushimi’s eyes lit up. “Yeah?” “Are you sure you wanna participate? I didn’t really give it much thought when we made that promise.” We’d talked about it while waiting for the train on our way back from the audition she’d failed. “And I thought maybe it was the same for you.” “No way.” No way…huh? “I think, deep down, I’ve been feeling like you might be lying, somehow,” I said. “I just didn’t realize that’s what it was until now.” “What?” She furrowed her brow in disbelief. “Why would I lie to you? We’ve been together forever. I can tell when you’re lying, although not always for sure.” Fushimi looked up at me. “So I’m sure you can tell, too. Even if you’re not one hundred percent certain.” I understood what she meant. I probably would’ve been able to tell, if only vaguely, if Fushimi was lying. “I saw Shii and you wearing kimonos,” she said. “Oh yeah.” I saw you watching us. “Ryou, you don’t have to force yourself to come to the closing party just because we promised.” Despite her words, she looked at me restlessly. “There’s Ai, there’s Shii… It doesn’t have to be me.” Once again, it seemed as if her own words were hurting her. The look on her face hurt me, too. “Fushimi, I…” I felt like I had to say something, but then Himeji appeared at the end of the hallway and shouted, “There you are!” She was still wearing the nurse uniform, and she had a sign advertising the café hanging from her neck, now plastered over with flyers for our short. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.” “I have a meeting with the drama club soon,” said Fushimi. “So I’ll have to bow out early.” “No problem. The others already know. They were just looking for the right time to let you go.” “See you, then.” Fushimi walked away. “Good luck, Fushimi,” I called after her. Ms. Ashihara might come, but the chances were very low. Fushimi smiled and waved, then turned the corner and disappeared. It was almost noon already, so Himeji and I went to grab something to eat. There were a variety of stalls—yakisoba, okonomiyaki, omelet rice, curry… I asked Himeji what she wanted to eat, and her response was quick and simple: “Everything.” “You can eat all that?” “Please. You’ll be eating half of it, obviously.” “Hey, don’t drag me along on some kind of food bender.” “But aren’t you curious? Even if the quality is low, things like this are all about the atmosphere.” “Don’t trash-talk the food.” Himeji took a wallet out of a hidden pocket in her dress. If her skirt were a little longer, she’d look just like a nurse out on her lunch break. “I’ll pay for everything,” she said. “All you need to do is stand in line.” “Oh, no. We’re sharing, right? I’ll pay half.” “Really?” She chuckled before shaking her head overdramatically. “Normally, the man would offer to pay for everything. You’ve got some work to do, Ryou.” “Yeah, yeah.” She handed me a thousand-yen bill and said, “I’m kidding. I really don’t mind.” I sometimes forget she’s my childhood friend, too. She sure knows how to manipulate me. Because the stalls were run by various classes and clubs, they were even cheaper than the school cafeteria. A thousand yen was more than enough to buy one of each item. I went back to look for Himeji and found her sitting in the rest area set up in the schoolyard. Two guys who looked like college students were talking to her. P-pick-up artists?! They must have thought a girl like her sitting alone in an outfit like that was some kind of invitation. As I inched closer, I noticed something was off. The two guys were bowing to her. “Excuse me? She’s with me, is there…?” I couldn’t finish my sentence before one of them silenced me with a glare. “You’re with her? What’s your relationship?” I was startled by how fast he started picking a fight. “Umm, she’s my classmate and childhood friend.” Their glares only intensified. “Her classmate?” “And childhood friend…?!” The two guys were shaking as Himeji turned and spoke to them. “I had him buy us lunch. We’ll be eating now, so if you have no further business with us, please go.” The two of them walked away, downcast. “I’m not who you think I am!” she said to their backs as they walked away. “Fans?” “Yes. But they had the wrong person.” “You mean they recognized you.” “No, Aika of SakuMome no longer exists.” I placed the packages of food one by one on the table. “They were pretty understanding, though. I thought fans were more…passionate.” “I believe it is part of an idol’s job to educate their fans. I don’t want anyone to think I have followers that would bother my group mates or other people. I was always strict with them.” So Aika’s fans see her word as law. Wait… Is that why Shinohara treats her like a goddess? She certainly seems like a “well-educated” fan. I was honestly kind of impressed. “You really are a pro,” I said. “Don’t make fun of me.” “I’m not. I think that’s pretty cool, actually.” She snorted and put on a boastful grin before splitting her chopsticks. “Let’s eat.” She dug in, and I followed suit. “By the way,” she said, “I’ve noticed you getting friendly with Torigoe lately.” “Have I? I don’t think much has changed.” The conversation trailed off, and we focused on eating for a while. I figured I could tell Himeji about Ms. Ashihara, so I did. “Hina’s mom? That Satomi Ashihara? She’s coming here?” She frowned in disbelief. “She said her schedule’s full, but I think that’s just an excuse.” “…Perhaps.” “I think she’s afraid because they haven’t seen each other in so long.” As I explained my hypothesis, Himeji’s face twisted. Something about what I was saying seemed to bother her. “What is it?” I asked. “Nothing… It’s just, I heard Mr. Matsuda say she would be shooting a film in Hokkaido.” “Hokkaido?” “Yes. Hokkaido.” “Hokkaido…” “That’s why I don’t think she was making excuses. She probably just can’t make it.” “She just can’t make it.” I could only parrot what Himeji was saying. Oh. That’s too bad. It would have been the perfect opportunity, too… “Why are you so disappointed?” “Well, Fushimi looks up to her. She’s the reason she wants to be an actress. And she wanted her mother to see her in the play…” “But it’s not like she’ll never have another chance. If Fushimi becomes an actress, her mother will have tons of opportunities to see her. As long as Hina keeps at it, there shouldn’t be a problem.” “That’s easier for you to say, Ms. Pro.” “You’re right, I am a pro. So I might as well speak like one.” Himeji smirked. She had a little of everything I’d brought, but never more than two bites. I had to eat the rest. “May I take a picture?” a first-year asked, pointing his phone at her. A few other boys were with him, also with their phones out. Himeji moved to sit beside me. “You can now.” She linked arms with me. Her tight clothes accentuated her good figure. I had to use all my focus to keep my gaze away from her chest. “Forget it…,” the guy said, and the group soon left. “Does everyone already know you’re Aika?” “Maybe. Or maybe he just likes me.” Himeji sighed. “I wonder what he was planning to use that photo for?” I’d rather he didn’t use it for anything… Himeji grabbed her chopsticks and cut a big slice of okonomiyaki. “But it’s easy to shatter all their weird fantasies. I just have to do this.” She clung even closer to me and carried the okonomiyaki slice to my mouth. “Eat up.” “Now you’re giving weird fantasies to everyone else! They’re all staring at us!” I could feel twice as many people glaring at me now. “Oh, but I like being the center of attention.” You brat! “And a patient must follow his nurse’s instructions.” Himeji put on a naughty grin and pushed the okonomiyaki against my stubbornly closed lips as if giving me little kisses. “Fine, fine.” I licked the sauce on my lips and opened my mouth slightly. She shoved it down my throat, forcing me to open wider. “You like it?” Her smile warned me not to say no. “Y-yeah…” I couldn’t even taste it, I was so embarrassed. “Your turn.” She opened her mouth. “…” I frowned, and she mouthed “Quick.” “Why would a patient be feeding his nurse?” She was clearly ad-libbing this scenario. “What are you talking about? Who’s a patient?” You’re the one who said all that stuff…! Stop looking at me like I’m being stupid! I could already hear people murmuring around us. “Bold.” “So they’re a couple?” “Bet they’ll be together for the closing party.” “It should have been me, not him! It’s not fair!” “Exhibitionists always break up right away.” Yeah, this was pretty much what I expected. And now I’m feeding her, though I guess I couldn’t really avoid it. Himeji didn’t seem to care about the gossip. “Himejima’s so cute!” shouted three first-year girls when they spotted us. Himeji waved at them with the smile of a goddess. She was way too used to this level of attention. She must really enjoy it, just as she’d said—but I was different. That said, I didn’t dislike that side of her. After knowing her for so long, I could see it in a positive light. She didn’t use to be like this, but living in the limelight seemed to suit her. Himeji took pictures with the girls while I ate what she’d left behind. Apparently, she didn’t mind photos so long as the ones asking were girls who wanted pictures of her, rather than of Aika the idol. “I’m so happy! I’ve always thought you were super cute, Himejima!” “Of course. Thank you.” Wow, a classic customer service smile. I had already finished lunch and thrown away the trash by the time the girls left. “Let’s go to the maze,” Himeji suggested. “I want to see how fun they can manage to make one using only cardboard.” “So you’re a maze expert now?” She clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I followed as she skipped along merrily. “Are you done advertising for the café?” “Yes. They only asked me to do it in the morning.” …Then why are you still wearing that outfit? Don’t tell me it’s just because you like the attention. Class 1-A’s room had been transformed into a maze. The student outside gave us a warning before letting us in. “Watch your step. It’s dark inside.” The room smelled of dry cardboard. It really was dark, probably to make it easier to get lost. I could hear people talking elsewhere in the maze from time to time. “It feels handmade, doesn’t it?” I said, before Himeji could unconsciously diss it by calling it cheap or something. She giggled. “Nice choice of words.” We reached a fork in the path and each pointed the way we wanted to go. I chose left, and Himeji chose right. “I guess we’ll have to split up,” I said. “Why would we do that?!” She slapped my shoulder. “I was just kidding.” One good thing about Himeji was that it was still fun when we disagreed. Maybe she stubbornly insisted on having things her way precisely because I never acted upset about it. We turned right, as she’d suggested, and quickly ran into a dead end. “Guess this is the end of the line,” I said, before turning back around, only to come face-to-face with Himeji. Instead of following suit, she moved closer to me. “Himeji?” “Don’t you have fun with me?” “I do.” I was telling the truth. “Then why not pick me for the closing party?” Himeji had asked me out before, even though I was sure plenty of people asked her out all the time. “Why do you fixate on Hina?” she asked. “Himeji… We’re in the middle of the maze…” Soon other people would be coming up behind us. I wasn’t trying to evade the question. I simply thought we should continue this outside. She shook her head, sending her hair swaying from side to side and letting off a scent different from the cardboard. “I don’t think I’ll be able to continue once we’re outside.” Maybe the darkness was giving her courage. “When you invited me before, I told you I was turning you down because I’d already promised Fushimi… But you see, just like Fushimi is special to you, she’s special to me, too.” My mind was spinning as I spoke, and I said each word as I thought of it. They were moving directly from my brain to my mouth. “I’ve been making promises with Fushimi since we were little.” “She was just copying me.” It seemed Himeji’s grudge was bigger than I’d thought. “That may be the case, but…” “Knowing how sweet you are, you probably feel bad for her because she keeps failing all her auditions.” “No.” The word came out firmer and harsher than I’d anticipated. “…Sorry. But this curse of yours is—” “You said something about a curse before, at the restaurant, when Mr. Matsuda treated us. What do you mean?” It’d been so out of the blue back then that I’d simply ignored it. But I couldn’t let it go this time. “You have this distrust, this aversion to falling in love,” she said. An aversion to falling in love? I felt the noise clouding my thoughts dissipate. “…I barely remember Hina’s mom. It should be the same for you, and yet you’re afraid of her.” “She probably scolded me or something.” That’s what I’d always thought. Was I wrong? I figured being scolded by someone other than my mother would leave a scary impression, but I had no clear memory of such a thing happening. “Not to harp on it, but back then, you liked me.” You wanna talk about that right here? And while dressed as a nurse? “Yeah, I think I did.” “You liked Hina before that. Do you remember why you switched over to liking me instead?” “Switched over…?” She’d used a strange turn of phrase, but it was the truth. My memory wasn’t clear, but when she put it like that, it felt right. Torigoe’s words had reminded me of something else earlier, too. “There was a time when I started disliking Fushimi,” I said. “It was when we were in preschool.” “I think this curse of yours is related to that.” The curse has something to do with me not liking Fushimi? “But we shouldn’t be talking about this here, not to mention with me dressed like this.” I could see her fed-up expression even in the darkness. “Hey, you’re the one who brought it up.” Himeji giggled and pulled me back the way we’d come. “Let’s revisit the fork and go left this time.” Every time we came to a fork, Himeji and I pointed in different directions. Every time, we went Himeji’s way, and every time, it led us in the wrong direction. We came to dead ends, looped back to the same path, and so on and so forth. We were lost in the maze for over ten minutes. “I wasn’t expecting much from a cardboard maze, but that was pretty fun,” said Himeji. “For a student project, it was much more difficult than I would have guessed.” “You made all the wrong choices,” I retorted with a chuckle. “Think about the closing party, okay?” “Himeji, I told you, I…” “Just think about it. It’s like the maze. I don’t mind if you make mistakes or take a detour.” She wanted to tell me it was all right if I got it wrong, that I could rethink it. But she also made it sound like choosing her was the only right answer. “I wish I could be more like you,” I said. “You want to be a super-sexy, ultra-cute and gorgeous girl that looks good in anything?” “Exactly. That’s the confidence I’m talking about.” A question mark popped up over her head. Himeji finally felt like changing out of her nurse costume, so we went back to the café. The place was full of customers being served by boys and girls in cosplay. The popular guys even had girls coming just to see them and take pictures. Himeji came back out in her school uniform, and the class rep bowed to her. “Thank you, Himejima.” “Oh, it was nothing.” “This is your pay.” The class rep gave her two complimentary tickets. “I will make good use of them.” It was a win-win. Himeji got to bathe in the limelight, and the class got a ton of customers. Just as I was wondering how our class was doing, a screening ended and students poured out in droves. “Takamori, Himeji.” Torigoe was holding a little girl’s hand. It was her sister, Kurumi. Their mother was behind them. “We watched your short,” her mother said. “It was good.” I bowed. “Thank you. And it was Shizuka who came up with the story.” “You know, she’s been up to something over the past few days. She keeps holing up in her room.” “Aah! Don’t say anything.” Torigoe made her mom turn around and urged her and Kurumi away with a forceful “See you later.” Then she turned back to us. “Himeji, are you done with work?” “Yes, after a bit of free overtime.” Don’t pretend you weren’t enjoying yourself. You even plastered over their ad with flyers for our film partway through. Fushimi happened to be watching the film, too. Back in her school uniform, she walked up to us. “The meeting ended early, and I had nowhere else to go… Hee-hee. I also wanted to see what people thought.” She’d ended up watching it three times despite not being on shift. That was when I remembered Deguchi saying he wanted to go to the cosplay café. I wondered if he was still interested in going. I texted him, and he said he didn’t care anymore since he’d already seen the best cosplays ever—Himeji as a nurse and Fushimi as a police officer. “So, what are people saying?” I asked. “Are the seats still being filled?” “We brought in more chairs, and there are still people standing at every screening,” Fushimi replied. “A lot of people have stopped by. Around two hundred at least.” “Whoa.” “Wow.” Torigoe and I were both blown away, but one person had a different opinion. “I’m in this film, too, you know,” Himeji interjected. “I was expecting a lot more.” “I saw the two of you—Ai, Ryou. You were out on a date, right?” Fushimi narrowed her eyes and booed. “It’s only natural I attracted a lot of attention…,” Himeji said. “Is there any food you haven’t tried yet? Want to go as a group?” Fushimi suggested. Torigoe and Himeji agreed, so naturally, they chose some place we hadn’t gone, without even waiting for my reply. We went for crepes, then cotton candy, off-season shaved ice, and taiyaki. After going around the stalls, we took our loot to the rest area. I took a bite of the sweet, cloudlike cotton candy. “How’s the play going, Hiina?” asked Torigoe. “It’s tomorrow, right?” “Yeah. We rehearsed the whole thing, and it went perfectly.” Fushimi put out her hand in a victory sign. “There are always monsters lurking onstage. Don’t let your guard down until it’s over.” Himeji stuffed her cheeks with crepe. “Hee-hee. You don’t sound very impressive with cream on your face, Ai.” “…!” “Classic clumsy Himeji.” Torigoe wiped the cream away with a tissue. “I’m not clumsy. And I was giving you advice, as your senior with more stage experience.” “Yeah. Thanks. I’ll be on my guard,” said Fushimi. “Oh, and I forgot to mention,” added Himeji. “Shizuka, I read it.” “Really?” “I read it, too,” Fushimi joined in. I observed their chat as if from a distance, all the while thinking about what Himeji had said in the maze—that there was a link between my dislike for Fushimi and the curse-like trauma she’d mentioned. Come to think of it, Torigoe also told me not to force myself. Was that related, too?
Chapter 155
24 min read