Sweet Fluff

The rest of my Saturday night was spent on the floor of the unused apartment closest to the elevator; made it easier for me to escape, maybe. At least the sleeping bag kept me warm. Sunday morning, the Ace Maiden bade her farewell with only text messages. If u forget to shut the front door when u leave, I’ll text Mamie-chan pretending to be ur bro-con little sis, she wrote. Then, as if suddenly recalling how to be a decent human being, she added: good morning, btw.

Monday came, and the classes returned. The dread of seeing Mamie again loomed over me, even though we had still been chatting through text as usual. As if synchronized, we both wordlessly agreed to forget about our awkward interaction at the studio. And so, everything was alright between us. Too alright.

But when it came to facing her in-person, a look at her visage might spark something explosive in my head, and my body might react in a way out of my expectations. I could ruin everything again.

My anxieties turned out to be unfounded. Mamie, in a white blouse and a dark skirt, welcomed me to the lecture hall with a beaming smile, and maybe it was only through my rose-tinted eyes, but I could swear that she was shining a little. “Good morning, Shuntaro.”

Ladies and gentlemen, this is how you say good morning.

The sweetness tugging at my heart persisted throughout the Introduction to Sexual Arts lecture. I could actually focus on the lecture, not a single thought dedicated to where my relationship with Mamie could go wrong. Faded into irrelevance were my conversation with Uwabe-san, the concerns raised by Chiaki-san, and memories of the chiasm that had stretched between Mamie and me.

“Do you want to go somewhere together? Just the two of us?” Mamie asked after Professor Tsuyuki had declared the class dismissed. I took in her blushing face, her pursed, nervous lips, and her fingers poking against each other. The definition of cute.

Thoughts drained from my head, and my lips moved on their own. “I’d love to.”

“You will? I’m so happy!” I watched her leap up, animated like a puppy allowed to go on a walk.

This doesn’t seem like her. I quickly suppressed this traitorous opinion. If I wanted a commentary on women, I could have just browsed through a sigma male forum.

On the lively streets filled with laughter and chatter, she wrapped her arms around mine, and her cheek pressed against my shoulder. The hem of her skirt brushed against my legs from time to time. For a moment, I dared to imagine us as a couple. A soft, cotton-like feeling drifted throughout my chest, and the past ceased to matter.

But, in some corner of my mind, an ominous sensation lingered and simmered.

Our first stop was a quiet diner. We sat across from each other in the booth, and my eyes couldn’t look away from her. The way the sunlight streamed from the window and highlighted her face at just the right angle made her look no less like an angel.

Nothing threatening was left on her appearance, as if any trace of hostility had been cleansed away by holy water. She didn’t attempt to start a conversation, not even small talk. Basking in the silence, she seemed to be waiting for something. From her bright eyes that were glancing back at me, I knew exactly what that thing was. She was waiting for me to speak.

Passive. Subordinate. Those words used to describe language could just as easily be applied to her. The more I thought about it, the more holes etched themselves onto my heart, leaking the romantic feelings that once filled the space.

When my ginger beer vanilla float arrived, I rushed to chomp down a mouthful of ice cream, hoping the sweet fluff could overwhelm me again and the iciness could calm my intrusive thoughts.

“Do you want a taste?” a saccharine voice massaged my ears. While my tongue pressed against the milky snow, I glanced over at the person across from me. Mamie held out a spoon with a piece of her blueberry cheesecake.

“You haven’t even had your own bite yet.” I leaned back, away from the utensil.

“Watching you enjoy the cake makes me happier.” The corners of her eyes crinkled as her smile widened. We were taught in Expressive Arts lessons that this would make our joy seem more genuine.

“But I want you to try it first.” My lips drooped into a frown.

She reacted immediately, a machine given a command, slipping the spoonful of sweets into her mouth. “Delicious.”

Without hesitation, she scooped up another bit from her plate and pointed it at me again. “Now, open your mouth. I’ll feed you.”

“I’m allergic to blueberries. And cakes.” In my defense, I only had seconds to think of an excuse. It might have been everyone’s dream to have their crush feed them chunks of glorified sugar, but to me, it felt like she was injecting cyanide into our relationship. And if I had let her do this, the barriers between us would solidify, and I wouldn’t be able to reach her anymore.

Maybe I was overthinking. But I couldn’t help but do that. As much as I wanted to indulge in this fantasy, that the two of us could just be best friends who would never argue or disagree, reality beckoned to me, and the memories of the previous Saturday at the studio just refused to fade. The ‘real’ Mamie might be forever elusive to me, but when it came to this person before me, who showed no individual thoughts and desires, only catering to my expressions and reactions, I knew in my heart that this mirage presented by her was the furthest from who she really was in the internal world hidden in her mind.

I stared at her. She had given up on feeding me and was silently chewing on the dessert, her head slightly sinking. Once she had met my gaze, she lifted her face again with a grin that looked more forced than ever.

Taking a deep breath, I readied myself to shatter the illusion. “Do you not want to be my girlfriend?”

Despite her efforts to mask it, I spotted her facial muscles twitch and tense, but she still managed a smile. “Would I be here on this date with you if I disliked the idea?” There it was again—a manufactured blush.

“I’ll ask even more directly then. Are we boyfriend and girlfriend or not? It’s fine if you reject me. It’s fine too if you aren’t comfortable answering it. But I wish you would give me something that isn’t a bad attempt at sparing my feelings. Please, let me know what you are thinking about.”

The quiet that followed seemed to be armed with shards of glass, slashing against my heart with each second of delay. She was gonna say no, wasn’t she? That was why it was so difficult for her to answer this. My soul screamed, and nothing but regret burst from the depths of my stomach. I should have let her fool me. I should have let this date play out and enjoyed it. But… could I?

Before I could weave the strands of discordant thoughts into an answer, Mamie reached towards me and patted my head, freezing my entire being with her simple touch. “There, there. The brain freeze made you so grumpy. Have some cheesecake. I’m serious.”

She pouted playfully and sent the spoonful of cake towards my lips again. In the face of her temptation, there was only one thing I could do. I stuck with my resolve like a true man… for less than one second, and then I surrendered to her lovey-dovey act. The agony within me melted under her warm smile, and my shoulder slackened. Abandoning my line of thought, I could only sigh. “I’ll haunt you if I die from allergies.”

And I devoured the head of the spoon.