Day Three

Day Three.

Saturday. No school.

I thought I could finally laze around, just as nature intended. My plan was simple: finish the novel I’d been chipping away at.

But that plan went up in flames before it even started. My phone buzzed on the nightstand for no reason. A message. It wasn't a notification from a literary magazine, the daily paper, or my parents. It was from the owner of the red diary: Tanaka Asuka.

[Hey, what are you up to? Being a couch potato, I bet. Then meet me at the station this afternoon. 11:00 AM sharp. Don’t be late, okay! Or I’ll curse you for ten thousand years!]

What an utterly inhumane threat. That message was ominous as heck.

Was that really the school idol, the "apple of everyone’s eye"? Didn't she act more like a dark witch instead? Couldn’t she let a proletariat like me got a peaceful Saturday morning? Give me a break...

I wanted to fire back a complaint, to tell her exactly how much of a nuisance she was being.

But for some reason, I found myself typing, "OK" instead.

I cursed my own fingers the moment I realized the decision I unconsciously made.

*** 

The clock struck exactly eleven when I pulled into the station. Per the girl’s instructions, I was right on time.

"Whoa, where are you heading, Sir? Squid fishing?" The comment drifted from Tanaka’s mouth the second she spotted me.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"What do you mean by what do I mean? Look at yourself! Don't you have mirror at home? What teenager wears an outfit like that for a hangout!"

To be honest, I had looked into the mirror before leaving. But to be sure, I checked myself over again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, of course.

"Is there something wrong with the way I'm dressed?" I asked again, now thoroughly curious.

Tanaka put a palm on her face, looking genuinely disappointing.

"Spoken like a true Bookworm, huh. Your fashion sense is a big fat zero."

Somehow, I felt like I’d just been insulted without a single slur being thrown. But I didn't try to argue or deny it.

"Whatever. I wasn't expecting much anyway."

Again, I was being blamed for a crime I didn't commit.

"By the way, where did you get my LINE ID?" I finally asked.

"Hmm." Tanaka pressed a finger to her lips. "Secret agent."

A secret agent, she said? This person is terrifying....

"Oh by the way, what do you think?" Tanaka asked a moment later.

She spun around, showing off her outfit—which was undeniably stylish. After her brief dance, she froze in place, looking at me with her "template" smile. She was clearly fishing for a compliment.

"You... look beautiful. As always..." I delivered that comment while holding embarrassment.

Tanaka’s hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes went wide. That reaction was overly exaggerated. Was my simple compliment really that shocking to her?

"Thank you very much," she said eventually, giving a slight bow.

"You’re welcome," I replied, bowing even lower.

"Why are we acting like salarymen exchanging pleasantries?" Tanaka giggled.

"Sorry. I’m not used to being thanked like this."

Her laughter burst out like fireworks. A crisp, light sound that I allowed to invade my ears. It was the kind of sound, I feared, that could be unhealthily too addictive.

*** 

Tanaka said she wanted to see a movie, so she dragged me to the theater. Of course, a movie isn't complete without snacks. Which was why she also ordered a jumbo popcorn and a massive soda just to keep her mouth busy. Naturally, I footed the entire bill.

"Have you ever been to the theater before?" she whispered.

Her soft breath tickled my ear. I slowly turned my head away.

"Yeah... of course."

"Oh, that’s a surprise. With who?"

Why do you want to know?

"My sibling."

"I figured."

Are you a mind reader or something?

"So you have a younger sister, then?"

"Yes, I do."

"How old?"

"Middle school. Seventh grade."

"Hmm. A brother?"

"No, sister."

"Oh. Must be nice. I wish I had a little sister too."

The classic line from people who have never actually had a little sister.

"You’d think differently if you actually lived with that brat."

"Eh? Why?"

"Well, it's hard to explain, but—"

"Oh, the movie’s starting. Shh!"

Obediently, I shut my mouth in an instant.

The room went dark. The screen flared to life. Everyone focused on the film—screaming, laughing, even sobbing. Beside me, Tanaka showed almost no reaction. Aside from her mouth being busy shoveling popcorn, she seemed perfectly calm.

Did she even like the movie? I started to think she only came for the popcorn, and the film was just a consolation prize she was forced to accept.

*** 

"Wow, that was a great flick! I didn't know Japan could pull off a Hollywood-caliber movie like that," Tanaka remarked as we left the theater.

"Yeah, I guess," was all I could muster.

"Huh, what a lukewarm reaction. Didn't you enjoy it? It was so cool!"

I wasn't sure how to take that, considering she seemed more focused on her snacks rather than the movie.

"I’m not really into romances. It’s... a genre that feels irrelevant to me."

"Irrelevant, huh. Why?"

I wasn't sure I wanted to admit the reason. But then Tanaka, as if could read my mind, called it out.

"Because you've never been in love before?"

She is an esper after all. Or am I just that easy to read?

"I suppose." I confessed, embarrassingly.

"Hm, hm." Tanaka nodded as if she’d reached a grand realization. "You’re too busy flirting with your books. Thus you don't have time to actually pay attention to anyone."

I couldn't argue with that.

"Well, it can't be helped. An unpopular civilian like me doesn't belong in a story full of rose petals and sunshine. I'm fine as Tree A or the such."

Just imagining it gave me stomach cramps. What kind of girl would love a bookworm like this? I couldn't bear to picture it.

"I could be your girlfriend if you want, you know," Tanaka said, flashing a mischievous grin. A smile that made me feel like I was being hypnotized.

Luckily, my mental guard was thick enough to hold her spell. I wasn't about to be swayed by that kind of nonsense.

"I’m not sure I could handle dating a girl with a black hole for a stomach."

"I do not eat that much!"

I beg to differ.

Besides being a glutton, she also a dedicated con artist.

Thinking about that, a strange flicker of hope crept into a dusty corner of my heart.

Silently, I wished that she was also lying about her plan to kill herself.

***