I, Fujioka Chihiro, Am Worried About This Club

My dress shoes rhythmically clacked against the wooded club room-hallway, but another, more unpleasant noise came from the far end.

A woman’s voice suddenly shouted, “One! Two! One two three!” Followed by surprisingly good, yet annoying loud, electric-guitar playing. Of course this noise was coming from the writing club, where else could it have? Our school’s band? Don’t be absurd.

“What is going on in here?” I naturally sound extremely displeased. It seemed the music was so loud no one had noticed my entry and I remained motionless in the doorway.

Before me stood three people in maid-dresses. One was clearly Makoto who looked ready to kill someone, next to him was Yoshika who was picking awkwardly at her guitar. And a third one, a girl with long black hair stood on our table—and for lack of a better word, absolutely jamming out.

Who is that? I thought for a moment, but instantly realized that question was redundant. Her brash mannerisms, her large chest, her face dotted with crumbs—-it was Akimoto Kaoru.

“Yeeeeaahh!” She screamed. “See Makoto? That’s the energy I think Suzuki-san should have making her quiet and gloomy like you seems like a waste. She called him “Makoto” again…

“Get off the table!” Makoto shouted back.

Ahem— I cleared my throat. “Getting a lot of writing done it seems.”

“Ah! Fujioka-san! Thank you! Please get her off the table!”

“I feel like that would be the same as wrangling a deer. Impossible.”

“Ahhh! Ka— Akimoto-san get down! Pleeease!”

With a reluctant sigh our wild friend hopped off the table—Makoto clearly noticing her chest bouncing as she did so. Include that in your journal Mr. 2D Girls Only.

“Kaoru-chan, may I inquire as to what’s going on here? Are the outfits really necessary.”

With the straightest face she could muster, the wild deer said, “Of course they are. The best way to really write a scene is to get into the characters if it and understand how they’d act!”

“Unfortunately I cannot argue that is a valid method.” I followed up my concession with a sigh. “But could you tone it down? I would like to get some work done here.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” Kaoru wore a sly smile. “Only on one condition! You just wear this custom made maid-dress I had tailored to fit you!” She produced a dress that, sure enough, looked to be my exact measurements. The only concerning part was, where did she pull that from? Seriously where?

“That’s not happening, sorry Kaoru-chan, but unlike you I have self-respect.”

Kaoru began slowly approaching me with a terribly lustful look—she seemed to be focused on removing my belt. “Oh we’ll see about that “self-respect” in a moment.”

I reached down and gripped the hem of her dress, pulling it up over her head. “Please, I cannot have you making advances on me as well.”

With the skirt still over her face she took a wide-leg stance and put her hands on her hips. “Ha! Jokes on you! I wore shorts underneath!” Sure enough there was a pair of black running shorts. Well played.

“What!? Akimoto-san you said we can’t wear shorts underneath! T-that it ruins the immersion or something! No fair!”

Hahahaha oh my… poor Makoto.

Kaoru, still unable to see, pointed a finger hoping it would be at Makoto. However it landed on no one. “You’re a fool! That was a test!” As she proudly made the exclamation her running shorts fell to her ankles. “Hey did it just get colder in here?”

I would be doing a misjustice to these people if I only called them idiots… I think the term I’m looking for is life-threateningly retarded.

Kaoru finally fixed her skirt and pulled her shorts back up. The three maids gathered at the table—so naturally I joined them. It finally felt we were about to get to work. And work we did, I was greatful.

As the time approached six-o’clock, Kaoru became rowdier, Makoto sleepier, and Yoshika itched even more for Takechi. Sure enough, like clock work, her dream boy and his possible boyfriend wandered into the club, requiring Makoto’s presence.

He drifted out of the room trailed by Yoshika, leaving just Kaoru and I. Something that surprisingly happened more often than not. One oddity I’ve noticed is whenever Makoto isn’t present we don’t bicker. It feels as if he’s a catalyst for us disagreeing, or maybe he enables her stupidity?

Ahem— “Kaoru-chan, if you don’t mind, may I ask how you’re doing?”

“Hm?” She lazily raised her head from her cell phone.

“Are you doing alright?”

“What’s this about? Of course I am.”

“Just wondering, that’s all.” I powered off my tablet and stood from my seat. “Would you like to get dinner with me?”

Kaoru raised an eyebrow and gave me a suspicious look. What, you think I’m up to no good? You don’t want to be seen in public with me? So what if I’m a little tall for a woman, or don’t have stupid blonde hair that Makoto loves… This girl seriously pisses me off.

“Sure, I’m down,” She responded in a friendly casual tone, as if this was something we did often.

Oh— “Where should we eat?”