Chapter 5:

Turning Point

Girlfriend from Another World


05

I’ve been left alone with the beast.

The scenery before me, outside the window, was pitch black, only illuminated by bright, white fluorescents.. The view passed me by quickly as the train raced towards its destination. The floor was calm, and the sounds of clanging metal were few and far between.

At first, commuters filled the train seats, with even many having to fill standing room between the halls of the car. But the further the train went - the more stations it passed, the fewer people there were inside.

By now, people inside were sparse. Save for a few sleepy businessmen and tourists, it was only me… and the girl beside me.

Makoto Shirase. Or rather, as she prefers to be called right now:

Miki Starsky.

An unexpected event led us to ride the subway ourselves, without waiting for Jougasaki. Then again, this is probably the outcome he was counting on tonight - that I would leave him alone to his devices and make amends to Makoto for her shit day today.

I had every reason to be thankful to him for letting me have a second night with the girl I had liked since time immemorial. However, I had one reason not to be too excited about it.

Right now, that one reason had hidden itself in the dark recesses of Makoto’s soul.

The yokai.

I couldn’t see it anymore, but I felt its foreboding presence throughout this entire train ride.

We stayed silent throughout the entire trip, but her glances at me were nothing short of strange; her stares had an enchanting effect on them, like a spell had been cast on me to meet her eyes every time she decided to look into me.

It was frustrating.

There didn’t need to be some sorcery needed for me to look at Makoto.

I didn’t want to be forced to look at her.

She didn’t need any of that, but that damned yokai insisted on enchanting me with its dark magics.

And most of all, she didn’t need to force Miki’s identity on her.

But that suddenly gave rise to infinitely more questions than I could care to list down.

If Miki comes out when the yokai controls her body, what exactly is Miki Starsky then? What are the implications of Miki’s existence? And is the existence of the nure-onna tied to the existence of Miki?

Was Miki ever even Makoto? If she was, then who was in control, and when?

So many questions, bounced around in my head, with no answers to behold until this train ride ended.

The train began to slow as a subway station came into sight from the window.

“Ueno Station. Ueno Station.”

Ueno and Akihabara were only a few stations away, yet our ride felt like it lasted forever. Perhaps the conversations in my head or her dazzling gaze made the time pass slower than it should.

The train went to a complete stop, and its doors opened. Makoto exited and I followed closely behind. Nary a word was exchanged, but there had already been a silent agreement between me and Makoto’s alter ego.

That we were going to her place.

I was going to a girl’s place, in a foreign country.

It seemed mundane, but the circumstances of this entire visit were highly irregular.

It started earlier, back in Akihabara.

After Jougasaki had left Makoto and me to our own devices, that yokai emerged from behind her, bigger than ever.

Its form towered over me, and its scaly, human-snake hybrid body coiled around Makoto. Its horrible, unkempt hair hid a red snake-like eye - its stare petrifying me with fear. And the worst part of it all is that it was only I who could see it.

An exclusive pay-per-view show to the latest J-horror flick, and its population? Me.

Its emergence had caused a sudden shift in personality for Makoto. Her deadpan and reserved demeanor had changed to a more playful, chipper one; her voice rose an octave, and she became a little more intrusive with personal space - a personality that she channeled only as Miki Starsky, the Vtuber.

She closed into my ear and told me to call her ‘Miki’.

“Miki?!” I said, flinching away from her sudden advance.

“Shh!” Makoto shushed, pressing her index finger against her lips. “No need to be so noisy, Hoshigumi-san!”

Right… Hoshigumi.

That was what Miki called her collective fanbase - the pet nickname to encompass all her followers. I was one of them, and evidently, she knew this without me telling her, just like yesterday.

Star Troupe… much like her namesake and the symbol in her eye.

Save for the gigantic snake staring right at me, Makoto looked no different aside from the change in her swagger.

“How do you know I’m a Hoshigumi?”

“It’s simple,” she said, playing her upper body to the side. “Cuz Makoto told me!”

“Makoto… told you?”

So what was actually happening here? Split personality? Demonic possession? Was Makoto trying to pull a fast one on me with this information?

Actually, this really is some sick TV show of where I’m to be embarrassed on national television, isn’t it?

“Yep!” Miki said, backing off a little. “Makoto’s told me a few things about you.”

“Uh… when?”

“Since ever!”

Miki rocked her foot back and forth, showing me how antsy she was. She must have thought I was playing coy with that pout she gave me just now.

“I’m confused, Miki,” I said, scratching my head. “You’re Makoto’s… what, alter ego? Are you some kind of superhero?”

She ignored my question.

Miki brought out her phone and scrolled through an unknown app out of my view. As she passed a certain something on her screen, she grinned and looked at me with narrowed eyes.

“Hmnm. You’re a pretty lucky guy, Hoshigumi.”

“What does that mean?”

She went up to me and invaded my personal space. She took my hand and started tugging me in a direction away from the maid cafe.

She had ignored my question again.

“Well, aren’t you lucky?” she said enthusiastically. “Makoto just told me to give you an exclusive show. Just you and us.”

I blushed at the thought. What did she mean by an exclusive show? The way she carried herself didn’t help - her hips swayed exaggeratedly while she wiggled her body about like she was some sort of worm - or perhaps a snake. Her tone of voice was inviting amidst the energy Miki had infused in Makoto’s voice.

“Sorry, Miki? What are we doing?”

I tried to wrestle my way out of her grip, but to no avail. As I struggled to release myself from her grasp, the nure-onna’s tail coiled around her arm and mine, locking my hand in place.

It was useless. I was getting dragged into this strange girl’s whims.

Miki was my most favorite Vtuber around. I loved everything she did. I loved her talent. I loved her spirit, her efforts, her looks.

This should be a dream come true - an exclusive show for a certain Hoshigumi. Many fans would kill and rip and tear their fellow man just to get a shot at a few hours alone with their idol.

How would a typical Hoshigumi feel in this situation?

To be whisked into a day in the life of Miki; but putting in the context that a titanic, possibly man-eating snake demon was controlling Miki and maybe leading you to certain doom?

Is it still worth celebrating?

Were my illusions of who Miki was shattering right before me?

I was supposed to be happy, but instead, I was frightened.

“Miki, where are you taking me?”

“To Makoto’s place. Where else?” she said with such nerve.

My face turned red just imagining heading into my ‘girlfriend’s’ room this early into the relationship. But I shook myself awake, ridding myself of embarrassment and entering a perpetual fight and flight mode.

“W-whoa, hold on, why?” I said, still struggling against the snake’s iron grip.

Miki pouted again as she replied. “We told you, didn’t we? We’re having an exclusive show with you as the audience.”

“But why me?”

Miki tugged me even harder, the snake’s vicegrip compressing my arm even stronger. She was pulling me in a familiar direction: towards Akiba station.

“Are you just gonna keep asking questions all day?” she said in an increasingly annoyed tone. “Or am I gonna have to scream?”

No, anything but that. I was in enough trouble with just you already, Miki, Makoto, or whoever was in the driver’s seat right now.

“No, ma’am. I’ll zip it now, ma’am.”

“Good,” she said, flashing a smug expression at me. “Good Hoshigumis quiet down before the stream.”

That’s when she took me into Akihabara station, and where we rode the subway westbound to Ueno.

By the time we had reached the subway station proper, the nure-onna had stopped manifesting in front of me - however, that didn’t stop it from being felt.

The strength Miki held me with, and that chill running across my back and my nape. She was still in control.

We weren’t alone. Miki was still at the helm.

***

The streets of Ueno were bustling with a crowd of people coming from all walks of life. Passing through a marketplace, thousands of colorful lights and different noises made for a lively atmosphere that was distinct from the still bright but somehow muted atmosphere outside this street.

Miki lived beyond the streets of this busy sub-district that she called Ueno Ameyokocho.

While wading through the mass of people crowding the different stalls that lined the street, Miki grabbed my sweater sleeves as she led me around so as not to lose me in the crowd.

“I can’t believe you live around here.” I said to her.

“We live in a small apartment just a little beyond here,” Miki said. “It’s pretty convenient for us. When Makoto feels a little homesick, she can just head to Ameyokocho and find a little piece of home.”

“Is that so?”

I read about it.

They say that Ueno Ameyokocho is home to so many foreign-themed shops that sell actual foreign goods and food. I thought it was sweet of her to occasionally miss the things we ate and bought back home, even if her time with me didn’t make up most of her life.

“Sweet of Makoto to miss your home after all this time, huh?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “What about you, Miki?”

“What about me?” she said, nudging me a little closer with a tug of my sleeves.

“Do you enjoy the same things Makoto does around these parts?”

“Of course I do,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Not like our tastebuds differ when I’m here.”

“Oh, okay…”

Piecing together this information, it seemed that this ‘entity’ that took over Makoto is aware that she wrestles control from her and has done so before already. This wasn’t the first time she took the wheel.

Though I wondered if this meant that Makoto and Miki had a sort of cohabitation agreement, Miki seemed acutely aware of Makoto’s thoughts and vice-versa. I wanted to know more but knew this would not be the time and place to try and pry.

She smiled smugly at me and tugged me closer, making us walk side-by-side like a couple. I was startled and tried to keep some distance between us, but her ungodly strength kept me clamped close.

“I bet you were thinking just now,” she said. “That Makoto wasn’t home when I’m around?”

“N-no, not really.”

“Ooh. Liar.” she said, her smile growing wider. “Makoto thinks you were thinking that, too.”

I don’t understand.

The more she opened her mouth, the less she made sense, but at the same time, the more it corroborated my theory.

“Well, you girls can think whatever.”

“Booooo.”

We kept making our way through the crowd, Miki remained undistracted by the many sights and smells of the Ueno marketplace.

After around 15 minutes, the bright scenery began to fade as we entered a much more muted city area. Small buildings and apartment buildings became a more common sight, and the area was no longer drowned in people chatter. Looking behind, I could see from a great distance the lights from Ameyokocho.

“We’re here.”

Miki released me from her grasp. She walked up to a small archway, and beyond it was a gray, rather drab four-storey high apartment complex.

I didn’t think Makoto would be living lavishly by any chance, but somehow I had a mental image that she would be living in her own house or condominium with her family.

“Is this really okay?” I asked with doubt in my voice.

“We’re already here and you’re still asking that?” she asked, tugging me by the arm into the gate. “No backing out now!”

I followed her into the apartment complex, heading up the stairs and into its plain, concrete ground on the 3rd floor. The place was quiet, and the hallway lights were dim. To my side was open air looking over the city, and the other were rows of identical doors all facing the open air.

We stopped in front of one. Makoto reached into her small fanny pack with the certain silver cat head brooch pinned on it, and took out her room keys.

Room 302.

How perfect. Wasn’t that the same room number as that haunted room from a certain horror game franchise about hills being quiet? Considering what kind of horror story I’ve gotten myself into with that snake, the parallels seemed apropos.

She smiled nervously. “By the way, don’t mind the mess. I haven’t cleaned up in a while, and mama and papa aren’t home.”

“They’re not at home right now?”

Wait, this is pretty bad, isn’t it?

I half expected Makoto’s parents to be home, especially at this hour. My pulse rose as my thoughts ran rampant at the idea of being let into a girl’s room alone, just me and her, without the watchful eyes of any family member or roommate. This was almost becoming a dream scenario.

I could feel the primal instinct rushing to my lower body, my logical brain trying to fight every urge to become aroused. I had to pinch myself to stay calm and not be reduced to mush when I entered Makoto’s home.

“It’s been a few months. They’re out on business, so it’s just been me.” Miki said in a more hushed voice.

“I see. So we’re alone.”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “Perfect.”

With a click, she unlocked the door, and it swung open without a single creak.

A wave of stale air rushed forth towards me as she opened the door. It smelled of layabout cardboard boxes and emptied beverage bottles - it reminded me of the odors of a storage room or someone’s attic. The lights were off, so I couldn’t see inside.

We went inside, and she opened the lights. With a quiet buzz, the bulbs flickered on, revealing what seemed to be a small apartment room, with only a door to one bathroom and two bedrooms, and a living area where the kitchen, dining room, and couch at the heart of it.

Laying around the living area were stacks of boxes that towered up to seven feet high, almost touching the ceiling. There was little space to move around in it, and what space was there was blocked by small mounds of garbage bags tidily wrapped and tucked.

This was quite a shock; I didn’t expect Makoto to be living like this. The state of her apartment made my humble abode look like the local sanitation HQ with how much scrap and waste just laid around. What exactly was she doing, and why hadn’t she cleaned up?

Adding to the piling questions that I didn’t want to bring up to her, and will probably never find an answer to.

She led me to a room down the hall.

“Come on in.”

Beyond it was her room.

Compared to the outside, Makoto’s room was notably clean, and barely any litter was left inside it. It was safe to assume that the trash in the living room was hers in the absence of any housemates these past months.

It didn’t faze me as much – Makoto has always been somewhat of a slob back then, but still.

She sat on her plain white bed and relaxed.

“Hoshigumi! Make yourself at home.”

I quickly surveyed her room and took in its numerous, notable sights.

Beside her bed was a simple-looking PC, decked out with a webcam atop its monitor, and an expensive-looking microphone attached to a clamp and swivel clipped to the table.

On a small table to its side was a plastic, featureless head model with a headphone-like contraption plastered on each ear. This must be a KU100: a microphone set used for ASMR content - content that Miki only used once and never again. She said that she was way too shy to continue using it.

A dresser on the wall had recently used make-up still laying about, albeit neatly lined up and orderly.

And in the corner of the room sat a simple acoustic guitar.

I have memories of this particular instrument.

It was the primary instrument that Miki used during her streams whenever she would sing impromptu. It was also her centerstage instrument in many of the original songs she released, and many covers she sang on Yootube.

Miki loved singing along with the strums of her humble guitar. She liked covering slower ballads and acoustic pop, and in contrast to her playful, active voice, her singing voice was gentle and profound.

Now that I think about it, her singing voice has more of ‘Makoto’ than there was ‘Miki’.

Maybe this was where that blur between real and fantasy was.

Above her bed was a poster depicting two girls sitting together on the beach - an anime called ‘Tales of White Sand’.

It was a heartwarming, chill show about two girls who were like sisters, who pursued their dream doggedly together. No matter what obstacles came their way, and even after their dream broke one or two times, they still kept going, and going, and going.

Not like me, at all.

I loved the show, but at the same time, it infuriated me that younger people like them could keep pushing on to achieve their dreams. I know it was fictional, but its true-to-life nature touched me more profoundly and in a more somber way.

The only reason I could make out why she had that poster up was that she loved this anime a lot.

It was only fitting for Makoto.

Unlike me.

“Hoshigumi!”

“Hoshigumi!”

I snapped out of my trance as I heard Miki calling out to me. Even though I only scanned her room, I didn’t realize that I had been standing like a moron for quite a while, looking at her guitar and the dumb anime poster.

“O-oh, sorry. Where should I sit?” I said, looking around her room.

“Try there.” Miki pointed at the simple wood chair parked in front of her PC.

“Right. Thanks.”

I took a seat and turned to face her.

She looked at me with a more gentle demeanor, as we just shared a good moment looking at each other.

Without all the hustle and bustle of the city, it’s the first time I was able to sit down and just… look at her.

Makoto was in great shape, and it made me happy that she at least took care of her body and health, and she didn’t become unhealthily overweight or horribly anorexic. Her skin was paler than before, probably because she’s spent more time indoors for the past years.

Makoto was prettier than she ever was, more beautiful than before. And I knew this wasn’t just about my tastes changing – even after all this time, the image of Makoto was a constant favorite of mine.

And I wondered what she was thinking now as she stared at me back.

I wanted to know what both Makoto and Miki were thinking, if they indeed think independently from each other.

“Oh,” Miki uttered. “Right! I don’t wanna keep you waiting, Hoshigumi. It’s time for the special, exclusive performance.”

Yes, an exclusive performance.

That’s what I came here for. The time for my imagination had come to an end, and now I was about to find out what kind of service I was in for.

An exclusive performance just for me.

If any other Hoshigumis heard about me having this special one-on-one with Miki, I bet I’d have my head served on a platter for all of them to ridicule by sundown.

I felt dirty.

But it felt good.

It was an incredible feeling of empowerment among my fellow fans. They didn’t know this was happening, and they’d never believe me, but in my heart it was enough.

In my heart, and somewhere else unmentionable.

She stood up, taking off her jacket and willy-nilly, which made my heart race at double its speed.

I was ready.

She then passed me and went to collect the guitar from behind, with no fanfare whatsoever.

Oh…

Of course.

I was getting ahead of myself.

But being alone to hear her play, live, was still gonna be an experience, right?

I still wonder why I’ve been invited here just to listen to Miki play. Was it Miki’s idea? Was it Makoto’s? And either way…

Why?

Miki sat down in the same place on the bed. She sat with one leg up, holding the guitar against it, and she patted the strings, strumming each one and securing the headstock’s many knobs.

Her fingers had apparent calluses, a sure sign that she’d been practicing with the guitar for a long time—longer than she had been streaming.

In fact, I still remember that she used to play it back when we were kids, even up to the moment she went home to Japan.

Makoto loved the guitar.

In hindsight, me not making even the slightest connection to Miki at any point before today seemed quite stupid.

Miki slapped herself in the cheek lightly, as if to wake herself up. Her expression changed, and she gazed at me with a serious, determined look.

At that moment, I felt the presence of the yokai fade – that feeling of normalcy returned, and in turn, my mood bettered itself.

Who was in control now?

Hoshigumi, please listen to our song.

She began with a single strum.

And then, a gentle melody followed.

Miki parted her lips, as peaceful lyrics escaped her. Her voice cracked, but something about it sounded real - genuine. I could make out her words - a song entirely in English, an irregularity in Miki’s usual style. However, it sounded like she hadn’t completely memorized the lyrics.

Even then, I could feel a heart to it.

The further she strummed her guitar and the more she harmonized with the melody, the more they seemed to sync.

She sounded like she was only starting her music career, but like an upcoming talent with a voice of gold you’d find sitting in the street, a hat out with several coins inside.

It was a steady beat.

A tune that seemed to match my heartbeat.

Has Makoto changed after all this time?
She’s always been this serious kid.
One with an occasional playful side.
You could call her a tomboy,
But it didn’t feel right to put a label on her.
She was always by my side back then.
Well, not always.
But anytime I felt lonely, she’d knock my door,
She’d toss a stone at my window,
Grab my attention,
Then I’d answer.
Even on a rainy day,
We would play in the mud.
Maybe make a castle of stones,
Maybe break a leg,
Maybe get yelled at when we got home.
She’d knock on my door and tell me,
“Let’s study for midterms!”,
But no study was done that day.
We’d play a game and match high scores instead.
If we passed, I’d call her a genius,
If we failed, she’d call me stupid.
It was stupid, but that was how we were.
Such days are far away now.
And when she played the guitar,
It would be a little clumsy,
It would be a little rough,
But it was always good fun.
We would laugh, I would laugh
She’d cry because I laughed
She would sulk and go home,
But tomorrow she’ll knock on my door again.
Makoto, you’re the talented one.
So why bring me here,
When there are better things,
More productive efforts,
You can devote your time to,
Than to someone whose life was already over?

Her rough, but pleasing melody pierced my thoughts, as her own lyrics came through. It was as if she was conversing with me, though we shared no dialogue.

Have you been busy,
Picturing what has already happened?
A photo on the wall,
A memory from far away,
How many times will you look,
Before you hear,
The sound of the clock?
Did you wait,
For something, someone,
Like I have?

I’ve been waaaaaaaaaaa—

A screeching noise blasted my ear, as her gentle voice suddenly went out of tune. Her strumming had played a strange melody, not unlike a rock star who was ready to blast out a sick tune. I recoiled as this cacophony echoed in my head.

Which would be awesome, if only it wasn’t wildly incompatible with the song.

I looked at her with widened eyes, expressing my complete shock at what had just happened.

Miki’s mouth quivered, and her nose ran with snot, her cheeks and ears reddening as she hugged her guitar like a crying infant.

“Uhm! Uhm! I’m sorry!” she said, her tone panicked.

I tried to calm her, signaling her to calm down.

“M-Makoto! Please calm down!”

“Sorry… this song’s still not complete, actually!” she admitted. “I don’t know how to play or write the second verse at all!”

With how distressed she sounded, I was as sure as the rising sun that Miki was no longer in control of Makoto’s body - if she really was in control, of course.

“Whoa! Take it easy!” I said, matching her panicked tone. “I’m not upset!”

Makoto stood up quickly and grabbed me by the arm. She no longer had that supernatural strength from before, but I felt compelled to let her drag me along. She pulled me from my seat and pushed me out of her door.

“I’m done for tonight! Please go!”

“Makoto, hold on! Stop!”

I tried to face her, but her struggle made it hard to resist her. I could, but I didn’t want to accidentally hurt her with a stray backhand or a mighty shove. Her pushing began jostling the stuff in my pocket as I kept my hands on them, preventing anything from falling off.

I continued to plead with her. “Makoto, easy! You’re shoving too hard!”

“Please, just leave! I’ll just meet you again tomorrow–”

Something dropped from my pocket.

Oh no.

Makoto and I stared at the thing that had just popped out of my being. Though my wallet hit the ground, a more interesting object reared its ugly head and exited the thing’s pouch.

Makoto’s face grew even redder, almost volcanic, as she looked at the suspicious object on her floor.

It was a tiny plastic wrapper, pink in color with a circular, bold protrusion in the middle. It looked a little like a seasoning packet in instant noodles, but it definitely wasn’t a powder inside.

The secret weapon.

The rubber I had concealed within my wallet has shown itself in the worst possible moment.

We both just stared at it without a word. I glanced at her as her tomato-red face intensified.

Just to be clear, any intentions I had of engaging Makoto in any sexual way had already left my mind since yesterday. But now my thought-crime was laid all out to bear, and now I had no defense ready for the jury.

Makoto, please. The one time you shouldn’t act like a horny teenager, make it now.

Be reasonable.

Makoto shot a look of anger and self-pity at me, as she picked both my wallet and my protection up and shoved it into my arms. She shoved me out her room, through the halls, and out her apartment door.

Of course, I let that all happen lest another unfortunate accident happen. There was no seeing reason here.

She closed the front door but left it open enough that I could see her face peeking through the gap. She was staring at me through it, her eyes dilated and face hot as lava.

We shared a moment of silence, both of us trying to process this sudden turn of events.

“Hey…” she said from beyond the door. “Were you thinking of… using that thing on me?”

I tried to stay silent while I made faces of disbelief at myself, but I knew I had to answer or I’d be cooking my own goose. So it was time to give the most honest answer I could:

“... Yes?”

“And you had pervy thoughts of me?”

“... Yes?”

“And you’re embarrassed because…?”

“...Yes?”

She paused then snapped back with a subtle growl.

“Yes is not a correct answer.”

I looked at the floor out of shame. I had no idea how to answer Makoto in a way to save face. Perhaps it was time to bare it all and embarrass myself in front of her. I had no excuses, and I thought being honest with her would be the right thing to do.

“Makoto… I’m sorry.” I said, bowing my head without her seeing it from behind the door. “I wasn’t thinking right.”

I continued, still bowing my head out of sight to some unknown god watching me.

“I got ahead of myself.”

“That’s still not the answer I’m looking for,” she said, upset. “Why are you ashamed of it? You’re a grown man, aren’t you?”

Was I?

At the moment, I thought that maybe I wasn’t as much of a ‘grown man’ as she claimed I was.

I’ve been going on and on about Makoto hasn’t changed since.

But could I say the same about myself? Did she think that, maybe, I hadn’t changed either?

“Well, yeah. I am.”

“Then I don’t see why you’re so embarrassed. It’s normal for a guy to have those things on him… Especially if they’re seeing a girl they like.”

Wait, was it really a norm? Was it a Japan thing, or was it a guy thing? I honestly couldn’t tell anymore. I couldn’t discern her intentions.

“Makoto, I’m not sure if that’s normal.” I said. I leaned against the wall beside the gap between the door and wall, so that she could see me. “I don’t think it’s normal for a guy to carry that… ‘thing’, for a girl he just met.”

Makoto glanced at me, pouting her cheeks.

“I don’t know, is it? You tell me. You’re the guy here.”

“Tch, well what’re you on about, sounding like an expert on the matter?” I said, clicking my tongue in frustration.

“It’s just what I heard, okay?”

“What, it’s just what you heard? I’m no stud, but I don’t think it’s normal to hard carry ‘the secret weapon’ around just like that.”

Makoto pinched my shoulder from beyond the door gap.

“Condoms. You call it a condom. Why do you keep using a euphemism for it?”

Indeed. Why was I using a euphemism for it? Even in my own head, I called it a whole host of things except for what it really was. I couldn’t even call a spade a spade.

I stayed silent and let her talk her side out.

“Look… shouldn’t you be the one angry at me?” she said in a disappointed tone. “I’m the one who acted like a kid back there - pushing you out of my house when I messed up and when I saw the condoms. I’m the immature one.”

“I–”

“But I’ve grown too. As you said. I can’t pretend a guy like you isn’t gonna have sexual thoughts about me. That’s just how it is, isn’t it?”

I looked away from her, trying to hide my shame.

Even though we were both adults, I at least owed her some credit for becoming an adult just like I have.

“Yeah, I guess so. I think you’ve grown a lot prettier and a lot sexier since back then. But I didn’t want to think of you that way, at all. It made me feel awful.”

“Why?” she said disparagingly. “I’m a grown woman already. I don’t want you treating me like some maiden you can’t think lewd thoughts of, after I said and did all those things up to now. I’m not a kid anymore. I shouldn’t be.”

“...You aren’t.”

“And you’re not one either. So I should stop treating you like one.”

And there was silence.

She was right. We aren't kids anymore. The time for that has long passed. The clock’s hands had already turned; there was no going back to a more ‘innocent time’.

The Makoto here was the Makoto now, and the ‘me’ who was here is the ‘me’ right now.

We both turned towards each other and said:

“I’m sorry.”

We looked into each other’s eyes. Makoto’s gaze was intense, and I couldn’t hold it for long, but I endured because I knew I had to. I had never looked at her for that long, without me imagining some underlying context.

I tried to empty my thoughts and just focus on her.

Were her eyes always this beautiful?

At that moment, I could swear I could see a single star reflected in her iris - much like how Miki had in hers.

But maybe that night sky really did reflect off of it, or perhaps it was the light of Tokyo shining in her eyes.

I didn’t feel the presence of that yokai. There was nothing but normalcy – and me and her, alone, talking in these dingy apartment halls.

It made me happy I was having a conversation with Makoto, and not a hint of the influence of the nure-onna anywhere.

We broke eye contact and turned our heads away from each other.

She meekly tugged on my sleeve.

“Umm… are you angry?”

“No,” I said as I shook my head. “Not at all.”

“You’re not breaking off our deal?”

“Of course not.”

“So… Can I still see you tomorrow?”

I couldn’t make out her expressions, and the same could be said of her. All I had to go off was the tone of her voice - of which sounded of authenticity and honesty.

“Of course you can. But Jougasaki and I are headed out of town for the day though. I’m not sure you can come with, busy schedule and all—”

“No, I can come,” Makoto said with powerful determination. “I’ll make time for you.”

“Makoto… I’m the one who should be honored here.”

I felt a caress on my neck, and she tried to turn my chin in her direction. I turned in her direction just to comply. I was finally able to see her emoting.

“Why?” she said, her eyes furrowed.

“Because you’re not the one breaking the deal off. And you’re making time to come with, even after Jougasaki and I made you an awkward third wheeler today. And that you might cancel a stream because of me.”

She shook her head in response. “Forget the stream already. We don’t have long to hang out like this. This is more important.”

I smiled at her. I can’t believe how long it has been since someone has told me that. This is more important. I was flattered, but also touched.

“Alright, then,” I said as I stood straight. “Important things first, right? Then I should head back and get some rest.”

“Oh, okay.” said Makoto with a frown.

“Besides, I may know my way around Tokyo, but I gotta leave some buffer time in case I get lost. Heh…”

“Why don’t I bring you to the hotel?”

“No thanks,” I said, shaking my hand towards her. “I’ll be fine, I’m the tourist here. You’ve had a long day. Get some rest too, Makoto.”

“Haha… what’re you doing, trying to sound all cool like that?” she chuckled. “But alright. I still have an hour of a stream for tonight, but I’ll get some rest for tomorrow afterward.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be watching.”

She smiled and nodded. “Right… Good night, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah… good night, Makoto.

I’ll see you tomorrow.”