Chapter 26: The Pre-Date Panic

Saturday morning. My alarm goes off at 5:15 AM. I smack it and just lie there. No dojo. The feeling is glorious. My muscles are weeping with relief. I can sleep. I close my eyes.

1 PM. Shinjuku Central Mall.

My eyes snap open. Oh, God. The "procedural update." The date. I sit up, my heart doing that stupid, inefficient thump. I have nothing to do for seven hours. Seven hours to panic. This is insane. Why am I panicked? It is just shopping. With a yakuza princess. Who kissed me. Who is buying me clothes. Because I represent her. My brain is broken. Again.

I get up and pace my tiny apartment. What do I even wear to a "not-a-date"? She said, "Do not wear that." That is everything I own. I walk to my "closet," which is really just a metal bar in an alcove, and stare at my clothes. Ripped jeans. Faded jeans. Black jeans. School uniform. A suit that my mom made me buy for my uncle's wedding three years ago that definitely does not fit. This is pathetic. I am "inefficient." I am Sloppy Shoujo. And I am going to meet the most precise, perfect, terrifying goddess in Japan. I am screwed.

I spend an hour. An entire hour trying on t-shirts. "This one has a hole in the armpit. Inefficient." "This one has a stain. What is that? Problematic." "This one is the shirt I was stabbed in. Probably a 'no'." This is hell. This is worse than the dojo.

My phone rings. I jump. It is Taka. I grab it. "Shoujo! You are alive! Ken and I are at the arcade! There is a new fighting game, you have to see it! It has..."

"I cannot," I say, my voice coming out like a croak.

"What? Why not? It is Saturday!"

"I am busy," I say. A deafening silence follows on the other end of the line.

"Busy?" Taka finally says, his voice full of awe and terror. "Shoujo Minatawa is busy. Are you dying? Did the stabbing get infected?"

"No, I am not dying!" I snap, my face feeling hot. "I just have to go somewhere."

"Where?"

"Just out."

"Out?"

"I am shopping," I finally mutter, the word feeling like poison. The silence is even worse.

"Taka? Are you...?"

"KEN!" Taka screams, away from the phone. "KEN, YOU OWE ME A THOUSAND YEN! SHOUJO IS GOING ON A DATE!"

"IT IS NOT A DATE!" I roar, my face exploding in heat. "I AM UPDATING MY ASSETS! It is PROCEDURAL!"

"What?"

"Dude," Taka says, his voice suddenly serious. "You are weird. You are so weird lately. Is this her?"

My blood freezes. "Is who 'her'?" I ask, my voice suddenly cold.

"You know," Taka whispers. "The Ice Queen. Katsumi-san. You talk to her. You stare at her. And she stares at you. Everyone sees it, man. It is creepy."

"We do not stare..."

"Dude. You stare. It is intense. So, is it? Are you taking Ayako-sama on a date?"

"No!" I lie. "It is not like that. It is Student Council stuff."

"Student Council?" Taka sounds so confused.

"Yeah. Mandatory. 'Enforced volunteering'."

"Oh," Taka says, sounding disappointed. "That sucks. Well, okay. Have fun with that, I guess?"

"Yeah. See you." I hang up and slump onto my bed. Everyone sees it. We stare. This is bad. This is inefficient. This is a mess.

I look at my closet again. I just grab the least 'problematic' things I own: a pair of dark, not-ripped jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and my cleanest pair of sneakers. "It is 'adequate'," I mutter to my reflection. I wash my hair. I scrub my face. I look clean. I look normal. I look terrified. My heart is hammering.

It is 12:15 PM. Time to go.

"It is not a date," I say to my reflection. My reflection just stares back at me. He knows I am lying.