Masochist

The competition carried on, and the only other notable moment was that Ayu-senpai’s mouth hung open when the tablet monitor showed a waiting room, complete with a couch and abstract paintings. The first sentence the third-year representative said to Toru-san was, “It must be exhausting meeting with so many strange girls. Thank you for doing this for us.”

A whiff of casualness drifted from her clothes, convincing me of a sense of familiarity even through the screen. Ayu-senpai spent the rest of the competition talking about the pros and cons of breaking the fourth wall during the date. “I’ll compare it to a stranger deliberately joining your table in an empty cafe, and commenting on how weird it was that this happened.”

My mind only caught a quarter of her rant, because memories of Mamie’s sweet laugh when she was talking to Toru-san still lingered like the heavy dampness after rain.

That fog cleared instantly at the click of the door as Mamie pushed it open, back into her normal clothes and with her makeup washed off. Ayu-senpai and Mamie’s nameless friends rushed up to congratulate her.

But I didn’t follow them, staying seated, while my eyes finally wandered to the screen. Too busy wrestling with my thoughts, I had missed that the results had been announced.

I could hear my pathetic sigh of relief. Mamie got fourth place, two placements higher than Hanawa-senpai. This would definitely tip the scales of public perception further in Mamie’s favor. Guess I could have my cake and eat it too.

And the third-year took first place, no surprise there. Toru-san’s face had said it all: the blend of longing and fondness and… if I didn’t misread it, love. He didn’t display anything remotely similar when he was with any contestants, not when he was with Mamie.

But do I have the same expression when I look at Mamie?

“Mamie, can we talk somewhere private?” When I realized what I had asked, it was already too late. Her friends squealed as if their favorite idol had just appeared, and even Ayu-senpai flashed a smirk.

“Sure.” Mamie didn’t flinch or blush or do anything but maintain her poker face. And she turned around right after. “Let’s go then.”

What was I thinking? Why did I say that? What will I even talk about? Will I really confess? Questions with no definite answers showered through my mind while I followed Mamie to a quiet end of the corridor, in front of the electrical room.

“So, what do you want to talk to me about?” She rested her hands on her waist, although her eyes kept the unreadable glint.

That’s what I want to know…

“Would you really have gone on that date with him if you had won?” I asked the first thing that came to mind.

Mamie narrowed her eyes, finally letting loose a sliver of emotion. “What else would I do? Not follow through?”

“But-”

A deep sigh cut me off. “Listen. I know what you are thinking. You are getting possessive. We have our thing, and you can’t stand another man…”

She stopped herself from continuing, and her open hand jerked into movement before halting right after. Her head drooped a little, only a little. “I’m sorry…”

Before I could allow empty words of comfort and agreement to flow out of my mouth, Mamie’s lips curved upwards into a soft smile. “I’ve had a lot of fun with you, and I see you as a precious friend. That won’t change. And I promise you that I won’t hook up with other people, unless I really, really, really have to. Even if I’d gone on that date with Toru-san, nothing sexual would’ve happened. After all, the winner will only have a date with this ordinary-looking boy. Nothing more. I’ll only do it with you, Shuntaro.”

I almost believed it. If only I hadn’t remembered what she had said just half a day ago. If only I hadn’t sat through the same Practical Psychology and Expressive Arts lessons as she had. Then maybe I would have fallen victim to this perfect resolution.

The woman before me reminded me of someone. Me. Back in high school. Always lying to give my classmates what they wanted to hear. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn the edges of her lips were twitching.

Like a moth flying to its fiery doom, my throat just couldn’t take a hint and stop digging my own grave. “Since we are exclusive already, do you… want us to date? Do you want to be my girlfriend?” My voice faded towards the end, as if even I was unsure of the answer that I wanted.

Mamie’s smile got wider. At this moment, I’d rather face her merciless scowl. “We’re basically that already. Friends with benefits aren’t that different from a couple. Labels would only make us feel pressured.”

It was definitely a mistake to ask that. My heart shrank from listening to her fake persona speak, and my muscles were so sore that I felt like they would tear open at any moment. “Do you want to kiss?” I started to wonder if I was a masochist, venturing deeper into the whiplash of hollow reassurances that burned my chest.

“I’d love to,” she said without hesitating, but a brief look of pain flickered across her face. Or maybe I merely convinced myself of that, so that running away would be easier.

“Never mind. I’ll see you in Monday’s class.” I didn’t look back, rounding a corner before she could say anything.

The indigo sky seemed fuller than my heart. The few stars spared from light pollution were plenty compared to the hollowness inside me. I dashed along the empty streets, not knowing where I wanted to go. Logically, I should return to the dorms, but logic was weak against the darkness that ripped everything apart.

Street lamps and glowing vending machines blurred by, their lights seeping into the surroundings and blending with the green and gray of the urban landscape. Somehow, I felt none of the warmth from the illuminating rays, and I even wondered whether the brightness had truly reached me. The night seemed to shroud over me as I kept my legs moving, and even as I passed a rare pedestrian, they would feel distant, as if miles away, out of sight a moment later when I continued to make distance in my never-ending escape.

Until a store caught my eye.

A simple bookstore, embedded at the base of a low-rise building. Humble and plain, probably forgotten under the morning rush, but aided by the veil of the late evening, being the only shop in sight that was still open, its lonely glow would attract insects and potential customers alike.

That wasn’t why I stopped in my tracks. Rather, it was one of the books displayed at the storefront. The recognizable cover reminded me of salvation. My heart soared with a familiar sense of safety, even as I was overwhelmed by heartless shadows lurking around every corner.

No, it wasn’t the Holy Bible.

It was better.

The Lonely Path to the Sigma Male.

Maybe there was something inside that could help me, guide me, or at the very least, give me an answer. I knew that I had already memorized the whole book from start to finish. I knew that what was inside was most likely harmful advice. But I just wanted to feel the weight of the bound paper again. Something solid. Something that would stay beside me.

When I came to, my palm was already on the glass pane. My stiff posture and knit brow made it seem as if I were watching surgeons operating on a loved one. The cold outside was getting on my nerves anyway, so maybe a few minutes indoors wouldn’t be so bad.

Before I could take a step towards my relapse, my phone buzzed. Someone was calling me. Even though I swiped the device out with practiced swiftness, the caller had already hung up. But my eyes stayed glued to the screen, because an unknown number had texted me a brief message:

Kuronuma-kun. Late-night date? <3

And with that, an address to a café. Curiosity dragged my fingers to check out the place on the map, and it turned out to be a ten-minute walk from my current location. My eyes wandered back to the book that might be able to save me, and then back to the strange invitation.

A dilemma. Not really. Between an instruction manual for a successful love life and a potential scam/kidnapping/murder attempt, it was clear what a normal person would choose. But a normal person also wouldn’t enroll in a training school for escorts. So, with a deep sigh and a sudden resolve, I turned away from the obvious lifeline.

I spent fifteen minutes getting there, and the café door opened with chimes ringing. I took in the dim interior, which gave the feel of a bar. Nothing like the fake café where Mamie had her date with Toru-san. A grumpy barista leaned on the counter, half asleep already. It was clear who had sent me the cryptic text, because only one customer was left, typing away on her laptop, stranded in the mess of randomly arranged tables and chairs that no one bothered to fix.

Her white hair stood out against the dark background, and even from looking at her back, I could tell that her face was ageless. I recognized this woman, but doubt still pooled in my head, because she was just too out of place within this rough place that reeked of yakuza deals.

Again, scam/kidnapping/murder might still happen, despite the Secretary of the Union being here, absorbed in her work. I questioned whether she noticed that I had come in at all.

“Have a seat, Kuronuma-kun,” Uwabe-san said without slowing down her fingers. Her concentration didn’t waver in the slightest.

I did as I was told, but it didn’t mean I had to be happy about it, so I showed my displeasure by crossing my arms. She might not have noticed, her eyes still fixed on her laptop screen, on a spreadsheet that she was putting together. Next to her computer stood an empty cup, already drained of coffee for who knew how many hours.

At first, I held the naïve belief that she would explain to me why she had called me here, but she just let the minute slip by without as much as a single word. Wanting the guessing game to end as soon as possible, I asked a direct question. “Why did you call me here?”

To her credit, she actually answered. “Why do you think?” Not that the answer was helpful.

“You probably fell in love with me at first sight, so you became weirdly obsessed with me.”

A dry chuckle that must have lasted for precisely three seconds before being abruptly cut off, as if she couldn’t afford a millisecond more. “Wow. I can’t believe you can get it so utterly wrong.”

“What is it then? Are you still playing coy at this stage?”

“Can’t I just help my beloved mentee when he is in need?”

“Huh?” It took my brain a few seconds to process what she had casually said. “Wait, are you-”

Her typing finally halted; no more clicking of the keyboard. She looked straight up at me. Like the male lead from a shojo manga, she reached out her finger to touch my lips. “Shhhhh, don’t leak my identity…” Without warning, she leaned into my ear. “Master.” She switched to a cutesy anime voice for the last word, sending a spark of recognition through my system like an electric shock.

Even the intrusive thoughts asking me to bite down couldn’t surface, as everything was overwhelmed by a tidal wave of realization that I was on a late-night date with the top escort in Japan, the Ace Maiden.