Chapter 3:

Snakes, Latte, and Amazing Chests

Girlfriend from Another World


03

I posit a question.

What exactly teaches humans ‘instinct’?

Let’s suppose a battle between two opposing humans.

Pit two guys who really hate each other in a duel to the death.

Both of them have no experience in combat, war, or even violence. In terms of brushing with death and brutality, they were as pure as a baby. But let’s say they hated each other enough to resort to bloody murder.

What outcome would one expect from this?

Obviously, you expect one side to die or come out with a few broken bones or missing body parts.

But no one expects two of these men to go up to each other and ask:

“Okay, so how do we actually kill each other?”

No, this would never happen. Man was born with the innate knowledge of thrusts, punches, kicks, and picking up rocks and bludgeoning their enemy to death with said rocks.

This is called instinct. Maybe you could call it reflex.

Everyone is born with instinct. No one teaches you how to breathe, blink, nor take a piss or a number 2 (though they do teach you where to do it).

Even I, one who ended up in life’s dead-end, had instincts.

But the Tabula Rasa theory posits that all individuals are born without built-in mental content and that everything you know comes from external stimuli, or someone or something taught you.

I wonder, because we also have instincts that aren’t related at all to just survival.

I ask this because, in the darkest corner of this high-class coffee cafe, I was driven by instinct to do something wicked.

I ended up squeezing Makoto’s boobs.

With my own hands.

No one taught me how to do that, but the drive just came to me from thin air.

Actually, let me reframe that.

I wasn’t on the offensive.

It has to be established that I wasn’t fondling her breasts. In fact, it’s much better to say, that Makoto’s breasts were fondling my hands instead.

But much like a fight between two angry men, you have to defend yourself. It was nothing but reflex and instinct.

So I squeezed.

I could make out that wicked, seductive smile coming out again through her deadpan facade. It was that nure-onna again, I’m sure.

It’s a good thing she pulled me back to a corner where this little act would go unnoticed by the world at large. Or else, I might’ve really gotten in trouble.

But officer, it was the nure-onna.

I don’t think it could be considered human. If you were to encounter a yokai doing an awful crime, would you take them in and read them their Miranda Rights?

Why did this happen?

Somehow, saying stuff like ‘you never change’ really gets her goat.

People change, of course. But some parts truly don’t change.

Your dispositions, your habits, your dreams, your unconscious mannerisms. At least two of these things shouldn’t change if you were to remain genuinely yourself.

Leave it to Makoto to completely misunderstand me.

I said it twice in a normal conversation with her on the night of our date. It is odd that I had to mention it twice, probably because I’m a dead fish in any conversation I was in.

With gritted teeth and a pout, she pulled me aside to the corners of this cafe and forced my hands to touch her chest.

“Well? You still think I haven’t changed?”

“Makoto, of course you’ve changed. But I was in no way trying to implicate your physical attributes into this.”

Her outburst was in no way relevant to the topic on hand.

But you cannot deny the instinct to seek pleasure. Squeeze, squeeze.

I continued, “I’m not sure ‘changed’ is the word I’m looking for. More like, ‘grown’.”

“Of course that’s what I meant, dummy,” Makoto said, “Learn to read the air already.”

Squeeze, squeeze.

“Are you sure? If I had said you’ve changed, I thought the natural response was for you to walk out the door and never talk to me again. Isn’t the entire appeal of the childhood friend thing to not have changed after all these years?”

“Wait, who said anything about appeal?”

“I thought you would be the expert in the concept of appeal.”

Indeed, Makoto, you should be the master of appeal. Without following the pulse of the people, how would you have known to dress your 2D model in such a way to appeal to a wide audience, including me?

“So without the childhood friend trope working for me, you’d say I wasn’t appealing?”

“Maybe?”

“Then if I’m not appealing, why do you keep squeezing my chest?”

I’d forgotten I was still in the process of assessing a cup.

It wasn’t as if she wasn’t appealing as herself. She was a pretty woman around my age, with a lot of talent, and a great pair of assets that my hands could not contain. She was plenty attractive even without the whole childhood friend thing going.

But she, of all people, should know the appeal.

She hosted so many watchalongs of cheesy romance anime on stream where the ‘best girl’ among the cast was the childhood friend.

She even said so herself. Unless Miki held radically different opinions.

“Makoto, there are things that one should always grasp when they are within reach.”

“Like?”

“Dreams, opportunities, chances, hopes, and boobs.”

Makoto raised her eyebrow at my statement. It was an absurd one I wouldn’t be caught dead saying in a normal conversation, but this talk wasn’t normal at all. If that yokai’s around, I would bet my next paid chat that ghoul would raise their eyebrows at me.

“Is this how you normally talk?” she asked.

“No, this is how I talk to you.”

“Touche.” she said, clicking her tongue.

See, this is how we interacted many, many years ago. I would never picture myself talking like this with anyone else except Makoto. When you’ve talked about certain hairs growing in weird places, what kind of topics are off-limits?

In any case, the time for exchanging pleasantries was over.

On the other hand, if I said something about Miki to her right now, she might just blow a casket for real.

It would be wise to stay away from raising that topic right now. After all, it’s a rule in this industry to ‘not mention other streamers in my stream’. Ah – but Makoto wasn’t streaming, so this rule doesn’t apply. Though at this point, it might just be basic decency.

I resisted all my primal urges and gently pushed her away from me.

“Fine. I accept. You’ve changed. Happy?”

“Yeah, very.”

Makoto adjusted and fixed her jacket and sweater, straightening out the wrinkles after our little escapade.

Though I believe both of us had every intention to return to our seats, I had a concession to make to her.

“Go ahead, I’ll follow in a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because if we go back at the same time, people will think a misconduct has happened in this humble cafe.”

Makoto laughed meanly at my sentiment. She looked at me with these pitiful eyes like I were some poor soul beneath her.

“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of strangers thinking we’re a thing?”

“If I was, then what?”

“...Then you should go ahead. Girls take longer in the bathroom. Unless… the boys’ room also has its own dimension in there.”

“So there really is an entire dimension in the girls’ room?”

“Does yours?”

An inane statement.

I don’t think I’ll win an argument with her, at least until some other person passes by these halls and thinks we’re up to no good. It was better to avoid a mess than get into another exchange with her.

I walked back to my seat, all our stuff still where we left them.

Thank this land’s gods for a more honest society.

As I made my way back into our table, I snuck a glance at Makoto’s back. I tried to find any traces of the nure-onna latching itself in our conversation.

Fortunately, I saw none.

It gave me relief that I could have banter with Makoto without some little devil whispering in her ear. But it also worried me that there was a chance her devilish antics were a thing she cooked up herself, and not the result of the yokai playing tricks on us.

But a burning question remains.

How did we end up in this position?

To find out, let’s turn the clock backward.

*****

It was 7:30 in the evening, and the nightlife in Shinjuku had begun to bustle. Salarymen had begun clocking out of their extended shifts and trolled the streets for the location of their next drink, or were simply scurrying into Shinjuku Station to take the train home. Save for a few late-going schoolboys and girls; the city became a playground for the young or wealthy. Kids were out, and adults were in.

Just a bit away from the heart of the city was a famous coffee shop that served pretty good frappe. It was quiet and cozy, its walls adorned with both wood and fake-simulated wood from painted cement. Not many people were dining in today.

Inside this cafe, Makoto and I were chatting, catching up on all the things we’ve missed from each other’s lives.

Makoto sat across the short table, a tall coffee cup on each side. Though she dressed the same as she did this morning, I couldn’t help but notice a few things different about her.

She had put on a considerable amount of make-up going into this meeting. Her eyebags were all but erased from existence, and a simple eyeliner ran across her lashes. There was a slight, cute red blush painted on her cheeks, and her lips had a distinct, romantic, but not-at-all overbearing rouge. She had combed her hair and straightened out any loose strands that were present this morning.

When Makoto drank from the cup’s straw, her lipstick would leave a pink mark on its tip. And when she did, her eyes would close just a little, as she pushed her hair aside her face with her hand, succulently sipping the coffee’s contents, each quiet slurp making her look like she intensely enjoyed her coffee. The way she twisted her body was tantalizing, leaning into the table, her bosom pressed, while a few strands of her hair draped over her eye, as she occasionally shot a few glances at me.

I could not stop staring at her, even with her subtle and mundane movements. She was alluring, to say the least.

Her sudden question had snapped me out of my trance.

“So, how long are you staying in Japan?”

I ceased trying to study her movements and shifted my gaze straight at her eyes.

“Around five days. Four and a half at most, minus today.”

“Ehh? That’s so short…”

A frown crossed her face. She looked genuinely disappointed that I’d only be staying in the country for a little less than a week. To be honest, I am too.

I would have wanted to stay for way longer, as well. Two weeks sounded like a good duration, but being away for that long from my work would spell nothing but doom for job security. There’s so much to see in this country, and pile on the fact I’ve run into Makoto, suddenly my short visit felt even shorter.

Sorry, Makoto.

“I know, right?”

Makoto started running her fingers along the coffee cup for some reason.

“That really sucks. I would’ve wanted to hang out with you more.”

“Likewise.”

Her disappointment bothered me.

It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, and now that we have, I have to be a bearer of bad news and tell her my stay wasn’t for long.

Her frowning and pouting genuinely upset me.

I continued, mimicking her gestures with the cup I had in front of me.

“On the bright side, it’s only been a day, and I’ve had a lot of fun in Japan. Now that I’ve tasted what it’s like to be here, I can’t see why I won’t be motivated to come here again.”

Never mind that I got into this place by sheer luck.

“Oh, really?” Makoto said, her hands clasped together with glee. “So you really like this place too. Same here. It was tough for me and my family at first, but when we got used to life here, it’s been really good for us.”

“I can only imagine… this is your actual home, after all. Must be second nature to you, almost like an instinct.”

She smiled and nodded.

Seeing her mood improve was also a good thing for me. Even as a kid, I always did find her smile kind of infectious.

Just note that, by now, she’s been told that she hasn’t changed once already.

Until now, she’d been smiling a lot when I asked her about what she’s been up to.

The moment she landed back in Japan, she and her family worked non-stop to get things in order. Naturally, she had to put in extra work to get into a good high school and, eventually, a decent university.

She never ended up going to a private school like she wanted to. This was, of course, expected – she’s spent a big deal of her life studying in a foreign country; the curriculum would be worlds apart, and acing a Japanese exam in that context would be truly herculean.

University, on the other hand, was different.

Makoto didn’t have lofty dreams of making it into high-tier colleges like Tokyo University, Keio, or Kyoto U. She said that studying in a small-time college was everything she needed. Her family had agreed to that.

Her story of college was as normal as normal can be.

And when I thought of it, I found it alarming for some reason.

Distressing.

If she went the route of a typical university student, then what does that mean?

Well, that means the grand possibility of having a boyfriend.

In fact, did she have one right now? I never bothered to ask, but I don’t think I will.

University life is seen as that part of life where you get to be as free as you can be, and you enjoy the most youthful part of youth before you are assimilated into society as just one of its many cogs.

How many boyfriends has she made in that time?

There’s no way a girl as beautiful and talented as her didn’t go out with one or two guys. One or two guys who definitely had more caliber than me and shared a common hobby or dream.

They would go on starlit dates, chill in coffee shops, maybe have a sleepover or two in each other’s places…

It frustrated me.

I know, I know. It’s unjustified.

But you can’t fight human nature.

The thought was infuriating, both as someone who liked her quite a bit back then, and as fan of Miki Starsky.

It was a taboo topic that unfurled in my head like a kid opening their presents on Christmas morning and finding out it wasn’t just coal in their presents, but Santa also took the time to take a steaming hot dump in their coals, too.

Speaking of Miki Starsky, she never even mentioned it in her backstory.

I would understand, though, since we are in a public place – there was a chance that even a whispered declaration would tip off the most crazed, eavesdropping fan and bear fruit to an awkward situation for her.

That, or she was willfully omitting it from me - still understandable, even though I’m sure the cat’s out of the bag now.

I looked at her and asked her:

“By the way, Makoto, how’s your career going?”

She blinked and looked at me like a deer in the headlights.

“Eh? What’s with the boring topic?”

“Is it really a boring topic?”

She didn’t look like she was ready to budge.

“I mean, if you’re really curious, why don’t you go first?” she said with a laugh.

Ah, hell.

I haven’t told her what I’ve been up to in my career. And I felt like I didn’t want to tell her, either.

If Makoto knew I signed myself up for a career dead-end from today to the grave, what would she think of me? Would she be disappointed? Would she laugh in my face? Would she take pity on me and hire me to be her paid slave instead?

How would a person full of talent like her look upon a loser such as I?

Oh - but she left an opening, too. I didn’t have to answer her question, as long as she didn’t have to answer mine. Good one, Makoto.

I laughed and answered her. “You’re right. It really would be a boring topic if we started here.”

She giggled. “Right?”

I think we both dodged a bullet there.

Makoto then opened up with another question for me. “I know it’s only been a day, but how are you enjoying your trip so far?”

Somehow, it felt like any answer I would give her would feel like me watching my words around her. Though this question was an easy answer, I felt like this conversation was becoming… too impersonal, and not like a conversation I would have with Makoto back then.

But it’s quiz time.

“Well, I’m enjoying it. Japan is a far cry from where we’re from, you know? I love the place.”

“It’s great, right? But it can always be a case of the grass being greener on the other side.”

“No, no. I don’t think so. The place is so much better than our place back home.”

She chuckled again and grinned. “Well, our place isn’t bad; there’s so much sentiment there.”

Naturally, Makoto held a lot of sentiment for our place. Unless their childhood was wholly unpleasant, there aren’t people in this world who wouldn’t be homesick for a place they’ve spent a good chunk of their life in.

It’s hard to tell if she cherished her time here or not, or maybe she was just being homesick. In my case, she could be right that I’m just missing the forest for the trees, but everything here just appealed to me.

The clean air. The quiet trains. The peaceful business of the city at all times of sunlight. The ease of travel. They were all things that only existed one at a time back home, but never all in the same place.

Not to mention the countryside, of which Jougasaki and I had a tour planned out in the boonies on the third day. By my request of course, and not his.

I replied to her. “Yeah, I get that. But living space can always be better, right?”

“True that!”

Makoto took another sip at her drink, but more hastily, or maybe I wasn’t addled with magic Makoto pheromones to see her differently this time.

“And? What are your favorite things in Japan right now? By the way, anime is not a valid answer.” She laughed scornfully as if she knew what I was about to say.

Naturally.

“Makoto, why don’t we start with you?”

She scoffed and said, “I’m always the one answering questions here. I think it’s about time I actually asked you something first, hm?”

Drat. She got me. It’s mostly been a one-sided exchange with me asking her questions and me not answering back. Dammit, this is a date, not a job interview.

“Fine, Makoto. You win.” I said exasperatingly.

“Heh, of course! Now, spill!”

I cracked my neck as if I were to deliver a grand slam of words, but in truth, I didn’t have anything interesting to say.

“The clean air. The quiet trains. The peaceful business of the city at all times of sunlight. The ease of travel. They were all things that only existed one at a time back home, but never all in the same place.”

She puffed her cheeks and chuckled.

“What? What a boring answer!”

“Well, sorry for being honest!” I answered back with a joking smile. But honestly, Makoto, you wound me.

I continued, “Well, there is one more thing.”

She placed her finger on her cheek and tilted her head to the side. “Oh?”

Okay, relax.

I don’t know what I’m getting to right now, but I felt like I wanted to say something cool in front of her. A do or die moment. A nut up or shut up moment. A masterpiece waiting at the wings.

“Well…”

She looked at me in suspense as I left my statement hanging for several seconds too long.

“Well? Spit it out already.”

Was I seriously going to say something that cheesy? No, you can’t let it out just like that. You just can’t.

No, just let it out already.

Let it out!

I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves as my heart began pounding in my chest like crazy, like some crazed debt collector pounding at my door to collect my life savings.

You.

“...Eh?”

Five seconds passed.

Makoto was taken aback by my one-word statement. The shock was apparent on her face, as her eyes widened and her pupils dilated, her subtle blush becoming more pronounced each passing moment.

She pulled her chair closer and leaned into the table closer to me. Makoto whispered.

“You idiot! What are you doing, saying stuff like that?”

“Y-you asked!” I said nervously, getting close to regretting my actions.

“Don’t say stuff you don’t mean!”

“But I do!”

She paused herself, the look on her face telling me that she was getting busy parsing my words. She looked aside and bashfully looked at me from the corner of her eyes.

“How can say you say that? We haven’t met each other for so long. I changed after all this time, you know?”

It’s true – I did think along those lines for a while now. So much time has passed that she may have grown traits that I would find repulsive, or that she’d simply not be the same person I knew her to be.

But the more I talked with her, and the way she reacted to my bold declaration just now spoke volumes more than I ever could.

Makoto…

“I can say that because you haven’t changed at all. You’re still the same Makoto back then - the same one that I –”

Twice. I said it twice now.

I felt something slither into my legs, grabbing my calf. Slimy, smooth, and rather damp.

Wait, why now?

Oh no.

It’s the yokai.

As I felt this horrendous thing latch onto my leg, Makoto’s expression shifted. She began pouting, her face reddening even further, seemingly out of frustration rather than embarrassment.

Makoto clamped down on my arm with her hand and tugged me away from the table with inhuman strength relative to her frame. As she pulled me deeper into the cafe and the direction of the washrooms, I could still feel the snake constricting my leg.

When we reached the hallway by the washrooms, the snake had released my leg, but something else grasped my arms.

Makoto took my arms, her expression still livid, and had forced me to touch her chest.

Hard to think that all of that happened in less than an hour.

I was still sitting alone at our cafe table, waiting for her to return from the bathroom. It’s been a few minutes now, so what’s taking her?

The wait became even more agonizing as I noticed the other customers staring at me.

It took this long for it to kick in – that earlier, both Makoto and I had made a scene. To be fair, it wasn’t my fault she had to react like that, but it was still my doing in some way. After all, I’d provoked her in at least three ways at once.

Their stares were occasional, but each one felt piercing, as if they were already silently judging both of us without knowing any context about what happened. Such is human nature.

Makoto emerged from the bathroom hall, her expression still pouted and her face still red from embarrassment or anger - or both. She sat back in her chair and shot me a serious look.

“Tell me honestly. Did you mean what you said?”

“Yes.” I answered with absolute confidence.

Makoto sighed as she planted her fingers on the side of her temples. She shook her head and glared at me, punching a hole straight through my soul.

My heart was beating so fast I could swear that the cops were breaking down the walls of my chest cavity. Her expression didn’t help either; the mix of such a serious face and that usual Makoto embarrassment was nothing short of bliss.

I didn’t know what she was thinking at that time, but I knew I had to be ready.

Then she popped the strangest statement of all, as her lips began to twist into a smile.

“Alright,

I’ll be your girlfriend.”

…Huh?

Excuse me, Makoto?

Did you just say that without a single hint of irony?

I chuckled. And then my chuckle slowly evolved into a nervous laugh.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes.” she said with such unfaltering conviction.

“I-I didn’t ask to be a couple.”

Makoto looked aside and played with her hair, twisting her bangs around her finger.

“You said I was your favorite thing in Japan right now, didn’t you? Then I don’t see a problem…”

“That was your takeaway?”

“So you don’t like me then?”

Makoto was trying to corner me in a catch-22. Though this was quite a dramatic situation, I didn’t find any reason to back out now.

Just take the chance.

“That’s not it at all. I do like you. I liked you then, and I still do. But… you know I’ll only be here for five days and counting, right?”

“Yes. Then I’ll be your girlfriend for the entire visit.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, stupid. I wouldn’t have said that if I did. I’m not a floozy.”

My head began to spin at this sudden turn of events. My pulse was reaching unreal levels, and the insides of my shirt were sweating despite the cold.

Being a couple for five days, though. It seemed like an awfully short time to get anything meaningful done… unless she wanted to get straight to the action, in the ‘best way possible’.

No, that’s not it at all. Control yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Makoto still twirled her hair around her finger, and she still could not look me in the eye. Fair enough, because I couldn’t look her in the eye, either. Her expression was a mix of nervous and embarrassed, with her still trying to force a cute smile in spite of it all. A cafe was not an ideal place for this to happen, but here we are.

“If you’re okay with me, Makoto. Then I accept.” I said, bowing my head.

“No, I’m not okay yet.”

“Huh?”

She stuck her index finger out and signaled a ‘1’.

“There’s one thing you gotta do for me.”

Makoto seductively grinned at me as she said that. I felt that cold chill run up my spine again as I stared at her, as she tried to deliver what seemed to be an ultimatum.

And I could swear I saw those yokai’s hands grapple her shoulder again – and could swear I saw a single star sparkle in her eye – the same one Miki has.

And I asked her, gulping down my spit in anticipation.

“And that would be…?”