Although the two emotions—enjoyment and happiness—might have felt similar, they were completely different. The former often led to friendship, while the latter had the potential to lead to romance. If a guy didn’t understand these fundamental differences and pursued nothing but enjoyment, he would end up perpetually stuck in the friend zone. Sure, he and his love interest might open up to one another, but the gap between them would never shrink.
Of course, this pick-up artist understood the nature of emotions all too well. We spoke alone for about 20 minutes, chatting about this and that. Somehow, he never managed to wear me out—no doubt because he often inserted humor into the conversation,
“Huh? Is that you, Ai? Getting bubble tea with another girl?” a feminine voice called out.
“You’re gonna get fat,” another girl chimed in. “That stuff’s liquified fast food.”
A group of two guys and two girls approached our table. At a glance, they appeared to be huge EDM fans—well, that was my initial impression, at least. As they chatted with Aizawa, they also stole glimpses of me.
“Looks like our little Ai’s brought another date here,” one of the girls noted.
“Seriously? He sure goes through ’em quick, doesn’t he?” one guy said.
“I can’t tell if chicks love him or hate him,” the other guy added with a laugh.
“What are you assholes even doing here? And Mio, don’t call her another date,” Aizawa retorted.
“Are these your friends, Aizawa?” I asked.
“Sorry about this, Shigure,” he replied. “Looks like we’ve run into a group of real dickheads. These are my friends from middle school. All of them were too stupid to get into Seiun, so feel free to point and laugh.”
“Wow, rude!” one of the girls cried.
“Your name’s Shigure, right?” the other asked. “Did you hear what he just said? If I were you, I wouldn’t touch this jerk with a ten-foot pole!”
“Oh c’mon. Will all of you just shut the hell up?” Aizawa groaned.
Aizawa tried to run them off with a troubled expression, but the group refused to budge. They were acting like Christmas had come early or something.
Eventually, Aizawa appeared to give up. “Well, since it’s come to this, why don’t the six of us hang out together?” he suggested.
Seeing as I didn’t feel all that strongly about spending one-on-one time with Aizawa, I agreed. The group made plans in the blink of an eye, and I found myself getting whisked away to a bowling alley at a nearby recreational facility.
“Wow, another strike!” one of the girls shouted. “You’re so good at this, Shigure!”
“High-five! Give me some skin!” the other cheered.
“Your form is beautiful,” one of the guys noted. “Do you play sports or something? You’re not built like your average chick.”
“I did full-contact karate from third grade until I moved here a little while ago,” I replied.
“Martial arts?! Damn, I never would’ve guessed! You look like one of those fancy, upper-class types!”
“She’d probably kick your ass, Ai!” his friend said with a laugh.
“Nah, I doubt that,” Aizawa scoffed. “Have you seen how shredded my abs are?”
“Those are just for show, dude. Sure, you work out, but you haven’t played a day of sports in your life. There’s no way in hell you could beat someone with real fighting experience.”
With the whole gang together, the excitement level rose to a fervor. The group celebrated every little damn thing. Whenever someone landed a strike, we might as well have been at a festival. It was exhausting. I couldn’t understand what they found so exhilarating. I mean, there were only a few events in life worth jumping for joy over, right? To make matters worse, the group seemed to disregard my bewilderment and insisted on placing me in the center of the hubbub.
The two girls relentlessly clung to me, trying to engage me in various topics. Meanwhile, the two guys stood off at a slight distance, acting like frenzied apes with their unnecessary overreactions. Aizawa—who no doubt assumed that I must have felt uneasy being in a group of total strangers—sidled up to me and chivalrously protected me from the overbearing group.
This perfect formation must have been plotted beforehand.
Meeting Aizawa’s friends at the café hadn’t been a coincidence—no, he’d undoubtedly invited them from the very beginning. Or perhaps the five of them had agreed to hang out today, and my presence had changed their plans. One thing was for certain, though: if Aizawa had plotted this from the beginning, he could become the top host of any club in Japan.
Dates were generally a one-on-one affair. A lot of men failed to see past this fixed idea, but women thought differently. For them, the breadth of her partner’s social circle was even more important than his looks. Aizawa knew this and wanted to show off a world that revolved around him.
“Look at how fun everything is with me,” he seemed to be saying, as if offering something entirely out of the ordinary.
Since I thought nothing of him, his grandstanding had no effect on me. However, for women who did like him—in other words, those who willingly approached the school’s most notorious playboy, longing for adventure—Aizawa must have seemed like a knight in shining armor, someone who would whisk them away from their boring, hum-drum routine.
I couldn’t recall his ranking during midterms, but he was in Seiun’s junior-year AP class. He would probably get into a decent college. If he started working at a trading company, he would likely become a capable businessman.
“Hmm...”
While I contemplated Aizawa’s incredible shrewdness, I came to find him...
Absolutely repulsive.
Of course, that wasn’t his fault. Just as I’d expected, he was “kind” to women. For my purposes, there couldn’t have been a more convenient man. I had no complaints there.
That being said, I’d seen this method once before—about 10 years ago, in fact. I couldn’t stop myself from remembering my mother’s secret lover, the man who had torn my family apart.