Ogata Shigumo

I pressed publish on the post. My magnum opus.

Not really. Just another post to The Lion, my weekly rant about feminism, the male loneliness epidemic, and whatever else interested me in the moment. I wasn't the biggest blogger, but it did pay the bills – especially important ever since my parents kicked me out of the house. I lived modestly, and even afforded myself a few hobbies.

I stretched my hands and let out a yawn. It was already 10:00, and I still hadn't eaten dinner – I had gotten caught up in the fervor of writing. 7-11 was still open. Another day of eating ramen, I guess. I made a note to myself to make some proper food tomorrow.

I put on my jacket and headed out. The air was chilly, but it was a short bike ride to the convenience store. The streets were quiet.

I entered the store and went to the ramen aisle. Various flavors, various blands; I looked through each one even though I had been here countless times. As if one of them would sound particularly appealing after the nth time.

Maybe the hot foods would fare better.

As I made my way to the hot foods aisle, a young man in his early twenties got my attention. He was holding a small bag of groceries.

"Psst!" he hissed at me. His voice was nasally and his hair long and unkempt. He fidgeted with his lanky fingers. "You're The Lion, right?"

It was the name I had chosen, but being called that in public made me blush like a girl. I was tempted to deny it, but he looked like he had spent all his energy to muster up the courage to talk to me.

"Um, yes."

"Big fan of your writing!" he said in his loud whisper. "Oh, right!" He took out his phone. "Can I get a picture with you?"

"Of course, man." Beat the previous (few) times I'd been recognized.

He cozied up next to me, uncertain of what distance to put himself at, so I nonchalantly put my arm around him and smiled for the camera. He took the picture.

He inspected the picture. "Thanks man!" he said.

"No problem."

He seemed to stand around wondering what to do, while I remembered where I was originally going. Just as I was about to leave, he added, "I've started going to the gym, thanks to you."

"Oh? That's great. Keep it up."

"Thanks." A few awkward seconds passed.

"Well, I've got to be going. Really cool to see a fan of mine."

"Yeah..."

I waved goodbye and left, and he made his way out the store. As I approached the counter, where the hotbox was, I was struck by the appearance of the cashier. I didn't recognize her before. She was the most attractive person I had ever met.

"Hello!" she greeted me.

I ignored her and focused on the hotbox. Some hotdogs, some cheese pastries, small pizzas. I settled on the chicken bake. Probably too much sodium, but the protein was good, and it'd be nice in this weather.

"Ah, can I get the chicken bake?"

"Sure thing!" She reached in and grabbed the chicken bake. What was a girl like her doing in a convenience store? "Oh, I like your coat!"

I was caught off guard by her sudden compliment. "Oh, thanks," I quickly replied.

She smiled warmly at me. "Is that all?"

"Oh, yeah."

"That'll be 600 yen."

I paid and she handed me the chicken bake.

"Have a good day!"

"You too," I replied. I left the store.

I unwrapped the chicken bake.

What was that about? It wasn't as if I was going to buy something else just because she complimented me. But that was just how the world worked, huh? The attractive get whatever they want and the ugly don't – that was the halo effect. And yet if you said so much out loud, you'd be branded a heretic, a demon.

I took a bite. It wasn't very good.