Uemura Tatsuaki
TO HIS RELIEF, Tatsuaki had won a ticket, so that was the first step taken care of.
At this movie screening, Impatiens would stand onstage for a Q&A session. Sure, it was the perfect opportunity to interrogate Gotou Julia, but he would need luck on his side. When he tweeted that he’d won, the response from those with a common enemy was immediate. His heart danced as he promised them he’d expose the truth.
She probably had no idea that someone in this audience was waiting for her with fangs bared. At last, he could deliver a wake-up call to those still under the witch’s spell.
He was also relieved to know that the hours spent digging through interviews and reading the source material wouldn’t go to waste. It had pained him a great deal to spend time on that. Somehow they had clawed passion and gratitude out of these so-called idols, and it was exceedingly dull. As for the novel, not even a second read-through helped him see what so many people liked about it. From the very first page, the story structure could only be described as sophomoric and vague, and he patted himself on the back for recognizing it as trash the first time around.
“I mean, if you go in with preconceived notions, you’re only going to see what you want to see!”
On his way back from grabbing a bottle of green tea from the kitchen, he overheard his sister arguing with the TV while eating dinner. But it was none of his business, so he continued on his way—
“Oh yeah, Tatsuaki.”
The last time he’d tried to ignore her calling for him, it turned into an entire ordeal. Thus he stopped and looked over at her.
“Is there a really pretty guy at your school?”
“Pretty?”
“Yeah! The other day when I was working the register, one of my customers was this guy dressed in women’s clothing, and today I saw him again in the same part of town. One of the part-timers told me he’s a friend of Akane-chan’s. Do you know him?”
A drop of condensation rolled down the bottle and dripped to the floor.
“No.”
Naturally, he had an idea of who his sister was talking about, though he couldn’t remember much save for the beautiful face. Then those four words replayed in his mind, and something tightened behind his eyes. He tried to turn and leave, but she stopped him.
“How the heck do they know each other? Do you and Akane-chan talk much?”
“No.”
“Well, you should! Not everyone can say they’re childhood friends with such a sweet, pretty girl. You ought to make the most of it.”
Really, he pitied his sister. She had a far closer relationship with Itobayashi Akane than he did, and yet somehow hadn’t managed to see through the façade. The fact that a family member was being lied to added a warped sort of justification to his actions.
“Now that I say it, I haven’t talked to her much myself lately. Has she been doing well at school?”
“Beats me. If she seems fine at work, then she’s probably fine.”
She quickly seemed to lose interest; her gaze drifted back to the news feature about urban legends. Freed at last, Tatsuaki returned to his bedroom, bottle in hand. First she interrupted him, then she made him relive that horrible memory, and then she had the nerve to tune out completely? He kicked a stray cushion to vent his frustration.
Despite what he’d told his sister, Akane did seem to be doing well at school. Using her looks and feminine charms to her utmost advantage, she disguised her inner ugliness and blithely trampled over anyone in her path in pursuit of her own desires. Worse, she’d gotten even more cheerful lately, like she’d been blessed by some unfairly biased god, which was deeply worrying.
As for his other enemy, Gotou Julia, she was carrying on with her career as if she hadn’t deceived anyone at all. In the time since the video was leaked, even the multiple amateur mistakes she’d made on stage hadn’t been enough to force the brainwashed masses into opening their eyes. Even when she zoned out during the VIP pre-show, even when she forgot the same lyrics she’d performed countless times before, the fans only coddled her. It infuriated him that accounts like gentian4 were treated like they were in the wrong for presenting objectively correct criticism. Was it such a crime to speak up when something was amiss?
He struggled to dig his way out of this mire, but the next thing he knew it was morning, and his daily phone alarm was going off at its usual time. Like always, he got dressed and headed to school. The thought of the day ahead threatened to sap the energy from his legs, but what he didn’t realize was that his overall motivation had actually increased. From the moment he first picked up a camera, it had inspired in him a sense of duty unlike anything he’d felt toward schoolwork or recreation.
Right as he walked into the classroom, a male student came crashing into him from behind. “Oh, my bad,” he offered as a half-hearted apology, then went on to relay some asinine announcement to the rest of the class as if Tatsuaki was never there.
Like any other day, he sat down at his desk and hung his bookbag on the hook. Then he immediately turned his camera on the student who had rear-ended him. If this guy made even a single mistake, Tatsuaki vowed he would broadcast it to the entire world.
In the corner of the room, a group of girls were standing in a circle, whispering to each other. By stringing together the bits and pieces he could overhear, he learned that Akane had apparently ended her relationship with a student from another school. At first this information was utterly worthless to Tatsuaki, but on second thought, he was relieved to hear that this unknown stranger had escaped her clutches.
It wasn’t common for him to glean new intel about Akane. As much time as he dedicated to surveilling his peers, topics of actual interest were few and far between…or so he’d always thought. But over the days that followed, she brought new changes into the room with her, some of which he only detected through the use of replayable footage.
One day, she stopped wearing her trademark glasses.
One day, she talked back to a teacher.
One day, she ignored the lecture and secretly read manga under her desk.
One day, she apparently didn’t show up to work.
One day, she made small talk with a classmate she used to be friends with. It put him on guard, since she mentioned that day at the cafe, but she didn’t seem to know about his camera. If anything, it seemed she’d struck up a conversation with the boy at random, and she didn’t walk away until it was over.
None of these behaviors were in line with the female he had observed thus far. He sensed that something must have happened, because she seemed to be fumbling blindly. But he didn’t feel the need to investigate, since it was probably just another of her stupid whims. Thus, for the most part, he disregarded it.
However, the night before he was scheduled to bring the hammer of justice down on Gotou Julia, there was a moment that brought Akane’s odd behavior to mind. In order to prime himself to spot Julia’s errors, Tatsuaki was re-reading Girl’s March. He still felt the story was shallow and trite, but this time, certain parts stood out to him more strongly for some reason.
The Girl had once been close to him, but perhaps that gulf could no longer be bridged. Before she could take the first step, Ai had grabbed her slender wrist.
Their fondness for this vision-impeding accessory was not one The Girl shared. But even if she took them off, it wasn’t like her true self was going to come leaping out.
The only reason she had obeyed her guardians thus far was because she was as weak as they were.
“Look at how selfish I can be! I can ignore an important conversation just to admire artwork! And I could stay this way!”
No matter what she did, there was always an eternity right before an explosion, like an unscratchable itch. But it was Ai’s fault. Out of spite, The Girl relaxed, allowing herself a feeling of warmth until the time came for the day’s work to end.
And so she decided to say hello to the boy neighbor she had thus far ignored. By interacting with someone who wasn’t strictly necessary to her life, she added a new option that neither her inner nor outer selves wished for.
It all sounded kind of like Akane. Once he made that connection, he despised the protagonist all the more. But unlike The Girl, he was positive Akane didn’t have a care in the world. Then her face sprang to mind, which made him even more irritated, and he closed the book.
Again and again, he thought back to that conversation with her. It had felt like old times, and for now, he lacked the courage to write it off as something neither her inner nor outer selves had wished for.