Chapter Twenty-Two - Boxes

I woke up naked and alone, the light from the late morning sun filtered through the clouds and into the room I had shared with Aria the previous night. I groaned and rolled onto my back, laying my arm over my eyes. I faced another day as a virgin because I had torpedoed myself. Still, I wondered, would I have had more regret going through with the act knowing my heart and soul simply were not into it? Either way, Aria had been wonderful and understanding. I glanced at where she had been lying next to me when I went to bed and sighed. She’d probably bailed as soon as I fell asleep. It must be hard, I reasoned, having such a crappy girlfriend.

First, I complain she doesn’t spend time with me, then I get scared when she wants to be intimate and cry like a toddler who’s terrified of “It’s A Small World” at Disneyland Tokyo. Though, in all fairness, I had been there with my parents, Jun, Mio, Nanami and her boyfriend at the time when I was ten and the ride was pretty suspicious. Not to mention that insipid song could be heard from all over the park and by the time I’d gotten inside; the combination of the song boring into my head, the heat, the crowds and just a general unease with the animatronic children arrayed about me had left me feeling rather unclean and somewhat dead inside.

Speaking of unclean, I segued with a sigh. I had made quite the mess of Emi’s futon. I would have to rectify that as soon as possible. I searched around for several long moments before I found enough of my clothes to make an entire outfit. I got dressed, sans panties which would have to be thoroughly cleaned, and made my way into the common areas of the house to find Emi and the others.

Emi was easily discovered, sitting mostly naked on a chair in the kitchen, a pair of lacy purple boy shorts and matching sports bra her only covering. She was peering seriously at what had become her most precious possession, the Kama Sutra of Sapphos. Emi reached out with her toes and picked up the plate her toast was sitting on, lifting it toward her so her fingers could grab it.

“That’s nasty,” I chastised her, shaking out my hair as I sat in a chair opposite her.

“You’re just jealous,” Emi grinned at me.

“No, your weird prehensile toe thing is nothing to be jealous of,” I assured her.

“I disagree. I could do at least ten of these positions just using my feet,” Emi turned the book around to show me a photo of two girls in some sort of harness.

“What are you? A bat?”

“Maaybe,” Emi smirked at me. “If you hadn’t spurned my advances, I could have shown you. But now I will simply have to amaze and astound my secret admirer with my sexy foot skills.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” I warned. “Where is everyone?”

“Aria and Saki got mysterious phone calls and left. Though I doubt they were from the same person. Mizuki left to go play hide the mini gherkin with Yuto,” Emi replied with a scowl.

“Ew. Gross,” I shuddered at the thought.

“Can you believe that cow?” Emi took a bite of toast and slammed her hand down on the table. “Can you believe how spiteful and backward and stupid and jerkish she was?”

“Well,” I shrugged, forced to agree with her. “Is it really a surprise, though? She’s been getting more and more uptight for a while, now.”

“How dare she look down on anyone when she’s fucking the missing link! I hope she gets some sort of mutant Yuto disease or gets pregnant and gives birth to an unholy beast or something.” Emi tore another chunk of bread off, nearly filling her mouth in her agitation.

“Does humanity really deserve that?” I asked, images of Dumball floating through my mind once more.

“If they think the way she does, yes. Yes, they do.” Emi shot back, finally swallowing her toast.

“So,” I began, trying to act as casual as possible, “I figured I’d go ahead and clean the futon for you. You know, to be a good guest and all that.” Emi lowered her book so only her eyes were visible and studied me, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “So…I just need your laundry room and some detergent. Uh…please.”

“Oh my god!” Emi gaped at me.

“What?” I snapped guiltily.

“You had sex with Aria!” Emi leaned forward.

“I did not!” I snapped back.

“You totally did! And you did it on that futon! I’m so proud of the role I played!” Emi hugged the book to her chest joyfully.

“I did not!” I shot back. “And what the hell are you talking about?”

“My futon cradled two lovers in the throes of passion! Thus, by association, I played an integral role in your ascension to adulthood! I’m so proud of my little Kasumin!” Emi wiped away an imaginary tear of what I could only assume to be pride.

“That makes no damn sense,” I shook my head at her staggering leap of logic. Emi continued on, unswayed.

“They grow up so fast! So tell me all about it! I know! Better! Show me in the book which positions you did!” She spread the book out on the table between us, opening it to a random position, jabbing her finger at the photo and looking up at me hopefully.

“We didn’t have sex!” I protested meekly. “I mean…we started but I…kind of chickened out.”

“Color me suspicious,” Emi leaned back and regarded me coolly. I sighed and shook my head and explained what had happened.

“…and that’s why I need to wash your futon,” I finished with a shrug.

“The story was kind of hot at the start,” Emi leaned back in her chair. “I mean, up to the point of you crying, anyway.”

“Thanks, now I feel even worse,” I muttered.

“Don’t feel bad!” Emi shook her head. “It’s probably for the best, anyway.”

“How is it for the best?” I demanded in embarrassment.

“It could have been worse, I mean,” Emi tried lamely to pivot.

“I cried when my girlfriend touched me! How could it get worse than that?”

“Well, you could have thrown up,” Emi supplied helpfully.

“I… huh, you’re right, there, I guess,” I conceded. That would have been worse.

“Don’t think of it as a failure!” Emi leaned forward and patted my hand supportively. “Think of it as advanced edging!”

“What’s edging?” I cocked my head to the side.

“It’s when you’re super close to an orgasm and then you pull back and let the good times roll on until you eventually snap!” Emi enthused. “They explain on page 194! Let me show you!”

“I-It’s ok!” I stopped her. “I believe you. I don’t think that was really ‘edging’, though, more a…failure to launch, I guess.”

“The Americans failed launches a bunch of times before they landed a man on the moon! It’s one minor nervous breakdown! We’ve all had them! Some of us more than once!”

“Didn’t, like, astronauts die or something in one of those failures?” I asked, not sure I remembered my history properly. Emi waved her hand dismissively.

“We’re not talking about astronauts, now. We’re moving on to the important bits,” Emi moved quickly.

“What are the important bits?” I was afraid to ask yet did so anyway because she seemed to expect it of me.

“How was it?” Emi leaned forward again. I wonder, I thought.

“Honestly…nerve wracking,” I finally replied. “I had all sorts of doubts and fears and had no idea what I was doing and then had guilt because I was always told I should find a nice boy and do that sort of thing with him so…yeah. I was also ridiculously turned on so all in all very confusing.”

“That’s why study is so important,” Emi folded her hands across the cover of the book and fixed me with a learned smile. “For instance, I could easily begin with simple petting before moving naturally into missionary, doggy, then cowgirl, then sixty-nine and onto more advanced positions like the thigh tide, dog chair and champagne room if I wanted. All thanks to this.” Emi tapped the book as if it were some sort of magical talisman.

“I…see,” I muttered. Very little of what she’d said made any sense to me, but I assumed she knew what she was talking about. Or, at least, the book knew.

“Do you want me to teach you?” Emi tented her fingers and stared at me over them intensely.

“What? No!” I shook my head. “The problem was in my head, not my knowledge.” Though I had to admit my knowledge was sorely lacking as well.

“Knowledge is power, you know. Let me know if you want me to teach you the ways of the masterful lover.”

“I’ll…uh…I’ll do that,” I muttered. “If it comes up, I know who to go to.”

“Indeed,” Emi nodded sagely. Emi was quiet for a few long moments, clearly lost in thought. Finally she shook her head as if she’d decided something. “What are you going to do after school?”

“What brought that on? That career survey, thing?”

“Yeah,” Emi nodded glumly. “I hate it.”

“Why?”

“It’s like…the end of when I can at least pretend to be a kid, you know?” Emi finally replied after a long pause. “It’s like we’re strapped into a train and it’s heading toward a titanium wall at maximum speed, and we have to get loose and jump free before we slam into the wall and become NEETs.”

“That was a…disturbing image,” I replied, though I supposed in a way she wasn’t wrong.

“That’s how it feels,” Emi muttered darkly. “So? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, probably college or something. Maybe I can be an artist.”

“Like a mangaka?”

“Nah, too hectic. You get like two hours’ sleep and drink your meals from a can and stuff. Probably like a graphic artist or something,” I shrugged. Honestly, I hadn’t given it much thought. I knew what my parents wanted for me, and it was to focus on being pretty, spread my legs for some well-connected guy here in Tottori and have a bunch of kids. “What about you?”

“My parents have already decided, from what they said,” Emi shrugged miserably.

“That seems…really shitty, actually,” I finally mustered, trying not to make her feel bad but completely unsure of how to approach what she’d just said.

“Right?” Emi shook her head and ran her fingers delicately over the book on the table in front of her, as if drawing strength from its physical presence. “I mean look at me. I’m not smart enough or independent enough to do anything on my own. I’m going to go to college for business here in Tottori and marry one of their partners’ sons and be trapped here forever.”

“Seriously?” I gaped at her. “And we thought Mizuki was trapped in the Meiji era. Is that even legal?”

“Yeah,” Emi sagged. “I looked it up and it’s totally a thing.”

“So…you’re going to run the business?” I asked.

“Ah, no, that’s the thing,” Emi’s glum look fell even further. “My future husband will. I’m just going to college to ‘support him in running things the Seto way’, apparently.”

“That’s fucked up, Emi,” I shook my head. “What the hell is with this town and the adults in it?”

“Hey! We should move to Tokyo together! We could get an apartment and live the bachelorettes life in the big city!” Emi enthused, trying to regain her customary brightness. Her smile was carefully placed, but the joy never quite reached her eyes. I smiled and nodded.

“We should,” I grasped her hand comfortingly.

“In a way I envy Mizuki,” Emi said with a forced chuckle, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes with her free hand. “It must be nice and easy to fit neatly into the box someone else made for you and think it’s what you always chose for yourself.”

“The thing with her, though, is it is the box she chose,” I shook my head. “It’s what she’s wanted since she was little. She always used to talk about having a family and husband and kids and being the perfect housewife.”

“That sounds horrible,” Emi muttered. I stared at Emi for a long moment before moving to her side and folding my arms around her.

“It’s ok, you know,” I whispered as she cried. “At the end of the day it’s your life, not theirs.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done,” Emi murmured.

“You’re Emi Seto. Anything you set your mind to, you can do. You’re a witch, after all.”

“That’s true. Do you want to try page 133?” Emi sniffled, holding me tight.

“No,” I ran my hands through her hair reassuringly. “I don’t want to try page 133.”

“You said I could do anything I set my mind to, though!” Emi protested.

“You should try page 133 with your secret admirer,” I chuckled. “Besides, your prehensile toes creep me out.”

“What if I wear socks?” Emi giggled through the tears.

“Still no,” I chuckled.