Chapter 5

After that, we didn’t say anything until we arrived at our station. Is this what going home with friends is supposed to be like? I remember hanging out with people on the way home back when I was in grade school, but…what do high schoolers do? “You’re thinking hard. What about?” Fushimi stared closely at my face. I squirmed. “No, it’s just… Was that it? Was that all you wanted to do?” The walk from the nearest station to my house was only fifteen minutes, taking it slow. During my morning rush, I could make it in ten. “So you’re worried about that.” “Well, yeah. You’re our school’s princess, the brightest star.” “I don’t want you to see me that way, too,” muttered Fushimi, unamused. I mean, how can I not? “Oh, that reminds me, are you friends with Torigoe?” I asked. “Torigoe? No, not really.” Torigoe giving her my handle had suggested otherwise, but it seemed I was wrong. Come to think of it, Torigoe must have been surprised when she got that message from Fushimi. “Hey, I want to make something very clear,” declared Fushimi, stopping in her tracks. “What is it?” Make something clear? I had no idea what it could be about. “Are you—” “Heyyy!” A very familiar voice interrupted her. Fushimi pointed behind me. “Ryou, someone’s waving at you over there. She’s dressed like a gyaru.” Wait, is that…? Behind me was the oldest daughter of the Takamori family: my little sister Mana, now in her third year of middle school. Her brown hair was slightly wavy, and her makeup was extremely loud and dramatic. The skirt of her school uniform was most likely shorter than allowed, and she had a cardigan wrapped around her waist. According to her, this would prevent her panties showing from behind, but it didn’t stop the front from going public when she was on her bike. Mana was waving her hand and skipping over to us. “Who’s that?” “Mana.” “What?! Little Mana?! W-when did she start dressing so…so worldly?!” Back when Fushimi and I still played together, Mana had joined us plenty of times, but any trace of that little girl was gone. She was still more of the shy type when she started middle school. Who knows when she turned rebel and joined the gyaru fashion culture? Certainly not me. My sister skipped all the way to us. “Bubby, you heading home?” “Please don’t call me that in public. Come on.” “But what else am I gonna call my bubby, Bubby?! Well, who’s your friend? Oh! Hina! How’s it going?” “Nice to see you again, Mana.” Instead of starting a friendly conversation after so many years apart, Mana just stared at me, then at Fushimi, then back at me. “That’s weird. I, like, never see you with other people.” “It’s coincidence. Pure coincidence.” “Uh-huh…” She snorted. “So anyway, Bubby, what do you want for dinner?” “Stop calling me that, seriously… What about curry?” “You got it.” Mana let out a sneaky laugh. Despite the stereotype associated with her style choices, she was more of the hardworking type underneath. She made dinner every day in place of my mom. “Okay, see you later.” Mana got back on her bike and went off, probably to the supermarket to buy food. She only dressed like a party girl—she didn’t play around outside. “Wow, wasn’t expecting that,” muttered Fushimi. “She’s real cute, but I wasn’t expecting her to change that much.” I know, right? I agreed in my mind, as if this weren’t my sister we were talking about. “But I already know that you like that kind of girl. Right?” “Wait, what?” I was so astonished it felt like my eyes would come out of their sockets. “Who told you that?” “You. Back in middle school.” Middle school? Ah, you mean that one time? There was one time when the other kids were teasing me pretty hard about me always being in the same class with a girl I’d known for years. “You like her, right?” they’d say. “I bet she wakes you up every morning!” And so on. So to stop them from making fun of me, I tried to think of the polar opposite of Fushimi’s traditional charm. “No way! I don’t like girls like her. I’d rather date a gyaru.” Fushimi had a more conservative sense of style, so I went for the least conservative type there was. I was basically talking out of my ass, though. I can handle being teased, but not when it comes to girls. Fushimi started walking sluggishly. “And you were so enthusiastic…” What a good memory! “I didn’t mean it! It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, nothing serious.” “Mana grew up so much and changed, and…and I…” She might follow some wild city trends, but the only thing that grew up about her is her chest. Fushimi looked down at her chest, which had only a gentle change in elevation on a mostly flat surface. “…Now I want to die…” “Don’t give up on living!” Her shoulders slumped as she continued walking. “I’m serious. I’m not into gyarus at all.” “Really?” “Yeah. I just said that because they were teasing me about our friendship. I didn’t mean it.” I was sure many of them were perfectly nice, but I honestly preferred keeping them at arm’s length. My sister was an exception—both gyaru and good girl. She did cook for me, after all. “If you say so…” She felt somewhat relieved…probably. “Geez, so there was no reason for that distance at all.” Thinking about it, I realized the first year of middle school might have been when I started feeling that emotional distance—my childhood friend Hina becoming my classmate Fushimi. It was partly my fault, since I wanted to stay away from her to stop the teasing. It was all because I started seeing her as a woman, but that’s part of being a teenager. Everyone goes through that stuff. Like measles or something. “Wait, so…you started giving me the cold shoulder because of what I said then?” “That’s right. How could I not feel bad about it? Jerk.” That whole thing was a grudge?! “I’m sorry. Seriously.” I begged for forgiveness several times. “Wanna go somewhere? My treat, as an apology… How does that sound? Just make it, like, ice cream or a snack. I can’t afford café pancakes or anything like that.” “In that case…,” she replied, “I want…to visit your house.” “Huh?”