Shoujo / 少女

While Naoto reflected on his past and walked home, I had fun with the other girls. How much fun? A lot of fun. More than you imagine, trust me. Initially, I was scared, but that fear of going too far gradually vanished as I got absolutely hooked. I tried on all kinds of outfits, entered multiple stores, and walked more than what my legs normally do on a regular day. We had dinner in a shopping mall and warned our parents we were going to arrive home later that day. Oh, and if you for some reason thought this was all of it, you’re thoroughly mistaken. We took a break on Friday and used the weekend to hang out together even more. They had their own fun too by not only making me try on anything imaginable but also by trying on all sorts of clothes themselves as well (especially during the weekend). Office lady, gyaru, goth, you name it. The sky was literally the limit. We even set foot in a wedding planning store and pretended Natsuko and I were getting married, just to try the dresses on. Those were truly unforgettable days.

Time passed by and we soon found ourselves free from the shackles of school again.

I was helping my mother and my girlfriend prepare our lunch on a peaceful Saturday morning.

“Do you need help with the rice?”, I asked Natsuko.

“No, I can handle it myself. Just don’t overcook the curry this time around.”

“Yes, yes. I promise I’ll do it right.”

The bell started ringing intermittently all of a sudden.

“Who’s going to check who it is?”, my mother questioned.

“I’ll do it,” I handed the task to my mother, “I’ll leave it to you.”

I rushed to the door as the bell kept ringing.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!”

Oh well, I guess it was bound to happen one day. Those Jehovah Witnesses finally discovered my address. Opening the door, I immediately recognized that cheerful expression.

“Oh. It's just you, Kimura.”

“Who could it possibly be? Didn't I message you about how I'd be passing by your house? Did your goldfish memory suddenly kick in?”

“Ah… right. Sorry.”

“I brought Yoko-chan with me as agreed upon.”

The other guest stepped forward.

“Hi!”

Detecting someone was missing, I interrogated her.

“And Naoto? Where is he?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Does it look like he did?”

“Now that you say it, not at all. He’s abroad until Monday.”

“Why am I surprised, to begin with?”, I thought. It’s already common for him to just disappear during holidays for the sole purpose of adding more international locations to his portfolio.

“Of course he is,” I reacted, disappointed, “Come right in! You arrived at a perfect time, we’re almost done with lunch.”

I made way for them to enter the household.

“I can tell! This wonderful smell!”, she closed her eyes and entered a quasi-Zen state, “It smells like homemade curry rice!”

“H-How’d you figure it out so quickly, Kimura?”, her friend wondered, taken aback by her statement.

She opened her eyes again.

“I love curry rice and curry rice loves me back, therefore we can sense each other’s presence when we’re nearby! This is the result of many years of consuming curry rice!”

While I’d love to prove her wrong, she was honestly correct, so I refrained from commenting on it any further.

“I guess we’ll see if you’re correct in a couple of minutes.”

“Eeeehhh? Are you going to leave me hanging like that?”

I ignored her and headed to where the other two were.

“Can I show them around, mother?”

“Actually, I’ll do it myself. You stay here helping Natsuko.”

“Understood.”

When they wrapped up ambling around the place, we all sat at the table and began the meal.

“So I was right! It was curry rice all along!”

“Was it that important for you to be proven correct?”, I asked.

“Probably not. Still, I wanted Yoko-chan to know I wasn’t lying through my teeth!”

“You take these things too seriously, Kimura,” her friend laughed.

“Don’t laugh, I take my reputation very seriously!”

If I were you, I’d have thought twice before verbalizing it. If I got a grain of rice for every time you shot yourself in the foot, I’d have a full bowl of it, which, in retrospect, isn’t a lot of food, but it’s weird it happened that many times.

“You’re pretty energetic today, Kimura.”

You have no idea, mom.

“Of course! Today’s special! I finally got to visit Ishida’s place!”

“You value it quite a bit,” she observed, surprised.

“I can’t call myself her friend if I don’t visit her house at least once!”

“Ah, I see. Why'd it take you so long to come here?”

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. Please.

“I never found a good time for it. I was planning to do it months ago, but then that happened… so I delayed it until this day.”

I sighed with relief.

Amidst the meal, the motherly figure questioned the guests about their future. They told her about their plans to study at the same university together. Eventually, the conversation evolved into the usual nonsense between us four. Much to my mother’s satisfaction, we offered to wash the dishes and cutlery.

“Are you going upstairs, Kimura?”

“Naturally! We can’t afford to waste any minute!”, she confirmed. Noticing her reaction, she continued, “Yoko-chan? Aren’t you coming?”

“I have something to do in the kitchen. It’s a surprise, so don’t even think of attempting to persuade me into revealing it,” she asserted, predicting her friend’s course of action and taking the necessary measures.

The boisterous sprinter retorted with a slouchy “I know”, pushing me to the stairs sporting the same tone, “Come on, I want to see your bedroom.”

“Yes, yes, as you wish,” I wrapped my arm around her back.

Before me stood a once-in-a-lifetime chance. A rare appearance of the SSR character Sakurai Kimura (Needy Variant), exclusively triggered by an equally rare event—her loyal friend Hatsui Yokoyama’s intervention after Sakurai Kimura had eaten a little too much. And I had her all for myself for the full duration of the effect. I had to take advantage of it while it lasted.

Hence, we… leisurely climbed the staircase because she was also tired for some reason.

In the meanwhile, as I had my own share of fun, Yokoyama, Natsuko, and my mother teamed up to bake a cake, as the former requested. When they finished it, the two teenagers met us inside my room.

“What were you doing downstairs that took you so long?”, Kimura inquired.

“Secret. Rest assured, you won’t have to wait much longer,” the shoujo manga expert comforted her.

“Alright! Yoko-chan, do the honors.”

Seizing the opportunity, she dived straight into the first topic of discussion.

“You got it! Here’s a quick rundown. Yesterday, amidst our creative process, Kimura and I came up with a genius idea for this afternoon. You may call it a bonding activity. That is, none other than sharing our anime, manga, and light novel preferences with each other!”

We clapped without a single dash of enthusiasm.

“Cut it out,” she demanded with a friendly face.

We carried on.

“Stop clapping or I’ll smack you with a light novel,” she reiterated with an amicable smile and a soft tone, heavily contrasting with her intent.

We obeyed, fearing for the books. Concerned about the outcome, I posed a question.

“Pardon me, but isn’t this just ultimately going to turn into a pissing contest?”

“No need to worry, I have things meticulously planned.”

“Mhm! Trust Yoko-chan!”

Kimura briefly forgot the concept of bias.

“So, how’ll this work?”

“We’re going to divide it into four categories: TV Anime, Anime Movies, Manga, and Light Novels. Think of this as a questionnaire, the questions being your favorite within each category.”

“What order?”, Natsuko quizzed.

“We’ll decide it with Rock-paper-scissors!”

“Woah, so you really did plan this out,” I recognized her efforts.

“Naturally!”

“Ah… I see. I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’ll play against Ishida and I’ll play against Kimura!”

We nodded and faced our opponents, ready for the battle ahead of us, pronouncing the three keywords in unison.

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

A tie.

Another tie.

And another tie.

And yet another tie.

After making no progress whatsoever for ten consecutive matches, we arrived at the one true conclusion—we knew our opponents way too well. Well enough for us to read their minds.

As a result, we were all out of breath.

“Okay… it seems… this didn’t work at all,” the unusually tired athlete commented.

“So… it seems,” the romcom manga specialist acknowledged.

“I… have a solution. I’ll play versus you and… Kimura will play versus Akira.”

“Mhm.”

After one match, the finals were decided, from which Kimura emerged victorious. Having the power to choose, she made Natsuko and I go first.

“That’s the order. However, I’m sure you’re all wondering about Ueno. I did Yoko-chan a favor and took into account his absence. Therefore, I messaged and asked him the same questions you’ll be answering.”

We clapped enthusiastically.

“Thank you, thank you. Please keep showering me with praise.”

Yokoyama stared at us, lifeless, utterly disappointed by our apparent double standards.

“Anyway! Ueno wrote the following: Favorite TV Anime – ‘Demon Slicer’; Favorite Anime Movie – any Ghibli movie; Favorite Manga – ‘Fullsteel Alchemist’; Favorite Light Novel – I don’t read light novels.”

“That’s the most normie and Japanese taste I’ve ever seen. Boooring.”

Spotting my best friend under friendly fire, I rushed to defend him.

“Hey, he’s allowed to like what he wants!”

“Let’s be thankful he doesn’t read light novels or next thing he’d be claiming ‘Blade Art Online’ is revolutionary.”

“What happened to what you said earlier?”, I remarked, unamused by her attitude.

Kimura saw the light of reason and intervened.

“She’s right, Yoko-chan. It’s all subjective, we can’t just make fun of others because they have a different taste.”

Yokoyama apologized in a barely audible voice. Natsuko, aware the dust had settled, jumped into the conversation.

“‘Demon Slicer’… isn’t that the super famous anime that took over the entirety of Japan this year?”

“Mhm. I heard there’s a sequel movie coming next Spring, but I don’t remember the name…”

Yokoyama, seeking to change topics, cleared her esteemed friend’s doubt.

“‘Demon Slicer: Yuugen Train’.”

“Oh! That’s it! Thank you very much, Yoko-chan!”

“You’re welcome.”

Excited for what was to come, she turned a new page and moved to the next person.

“Next is… Ishida! …Or Natsuko, whichever wants to go first.”

“As a couple, I feel it’s only fair we go together.”

I nodded.

“So, tell us. What’s your favorite light novel?”

“Mine’s ‘Eighty-Nine’. I often don’t purchase light novels but this one piqued my interest, hence I bought the first volumes. It easily became a favorite of mine, since I only own a handful of novels.”

“Oh, that’s the military dystopian one, right?”, Kimura inquired me, “Given your impressions on it, I may consider giving it a look too!”

“I only own one light novel… ‘Shimamura and Adachi’. I guess the answer's obvious.”

“Hmm… interesting. I never heard of it myself.”

“It’s a yuri story. In other words, romance between two female high schoolers,” Yokoyama was more than happy to enlighten her friend.

Making use of her position of power and being more familiar with the animation medium, she imposed her will.

“I want to hear about your favorite anime now.”

“Why so sudden?”, her friend questioned.

“Because I like anime more.”

We complied.

“My favorite anime movie’s ‘Kimi no Namae wa.’.”

“‘4 Centimeters per Second’ here.”

“Good choices,” Yokoyama complimented.

“And my favorite TV anime is ‘Your Lie in March’.”

“‘Your Lie in March’ for me too.”

“Really? The same one?”

Kimura, who had ordered us to save manga for last, was taken aback by the coincidence.

“Did you watch it together?”

“Not at all. It was actually one of my first anime.”

“I…see. Judge Yoko-chan, what’s your verdict?”

“In spite of the lack of diversity, their choice is good. I watched it as it aired and I was depressed for a whole week when it ended…,” she talked as if she was simultaneously reliving that day.

“I know, right?”, my girlfriend related to it, sharing her pain.

“What about manga?”

The most avid reader inside the room had grown curious after reminiscing about some of her memories from that TV series.

We accidentally answered at the same time.

“‘Blossom Into You’.”

Upon hearing it, they stared at us, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Staaaaaare.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” the manga expert dismissed it, “Anyhow, now’s my turn.”

“The stage is yours.”

She calmly breathed in and out.

“I’ll start with light novels. I’ve read many, but my favorite is still my very first one, ‘Watagairu’.”

“‘Watagairu’?”

“Yes? Am I the only one in here who knows of it?”

The cheerful girl was equally as clueless as her friends.

“I'm sorry, it must be the first time I ever heard of it…”

“‘Yahari Watashi no Seishun Love Comedy wa Machigatteiru.’?”, she insisted, making sure there wasn’t any confusion.

Suspecting she was misremembering the name, I threw another question at her.

“Are you sure it isn't ‘Ore’ instead of ‘Watashi’?”

“One-hundred percent sure. Here,” she opened her bag and showed us the first volume of the series.

“W-Why are you carrying a volume of it?”

“Well, it's a story I really love and reread often, especially as new volumes come out, hence I always carry a volume with me.”

“Next is…,” she took another volume from her bag, “‘Burū Haru Ride’.”

Having read it as well, someone reacted with pure excitement.

“Oh, isn’t that the one with the sad ending, where the—”

I instantly rushed to cover the cheerful girl’s mouth, afraid of being spoiled. She continued talking with a buffered sound. Sensing it was safe again, I uncovered her lips.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apologies accepted. Keep going, Yokoyama.”

“Lastly, when it comes to anime, my picks are ‘Kimi no Namae wa.’ and ‘Fruits Vessel’.”

“Great list of favorites,” I observed.

“Mhm,” the oldest in the room agreed and added, “Yoko-chan.”

She nodded to her friend.

What took place right after could only be described as a lightning-fast back-and-forth.

“Favorite TV anime?”

“‘Haitama!!’.”

“Favorite anime movie?”

“‘Haitama!! Movie 4’.”

“Favorite manga?”

“‘Haitama!!’.”

“Favorite light novel?”

“Never read any.”

Speechless—that’s how anyone not named Sakurai Kimura was.

At a later point in the day, my mother called. It was about the cheesecake—after cooling off for more than an hour and chilling another hour in the fridge, it was ready to be eaten. Natsuko and Kimura went downstairs.

While they were in the kitchen, Yokoyama and I shared an intimate conversation.

“I’m jealous.”

“Huh? Of what?”

“Your relationship with Natsuko.”

“I see. Do you have someone you like in that way?”

“I don't know… I don't understand my own feelings. What does it mean to fall in love? How can you know for sure what you feel for someone is romantic love? I always read shoujo and romance manga to live vicariously through the protagonist's adventures and find out what it truly meant to fall in love. But, no matter how many I read, the outcome was always the same. ‘I love you because of this or that’. Couldn't you say the same thing of a friend? And then they’d also throw in how the person they loved was special. How do you know that? I don’t comprehend myself. Ironic, isn’t it? The one who reads so many romance stories is the one who understands it the least.”

“Not at all. I can’t claim to understand it either. I solely understand my own romance. I can tell you about that if you want.”

“Sure.”

“A friend is someone who you can trust your secrets with, to varying extents. They’re the kind of people that can comfort you and with which you can talk things out. However, it’s different with a lover. They complete you. They’ll steal your time when you least expect it without giving anything back but their own love. They’ll always be there for you, even when you don’t need them. When someone teases you about it, you blush uncontrollably. When you try to imagine life without them, you feel empty. When you’re with them, nothing is impossible. Because you have them at your side. That’s why they’re special. I know this sounds stupid, but the answer lies in your heart.”

She laughed.

“I think that helped.”

“Then I’m glad.”

“Hey, don’t act like you’ve just solved world hunger. Nothing’s changed yet. Don’t worry though, it wasn’t pointless. I’ll simply need some time to think about it. In the meanwhile, you better not mess up what you have with Natsuko, otherwise, you'll experience first-hand what a Hatsui Punch feels like!”

“And what's a Hatsui Punch?”

“It's better if you never get to know. It'll mean it wasn't necessary.”

Kimura and Natsuko returned with four slices of cake.

“Cheesecake is here!”

After delighting in eating the cake, we played some violin for them, among other things. Our guests stayed until late night.

Before we noticed it, Christmas was around the corner.