They Say It's the Thought that Counts

The sound of a voice behind me startles me enough for me to whirl around and see a store employee, dressed in a vest and skirt, looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Ah...um...I'm looking to buy a gift..."

"For whom?" She gives me a friendly customer-service smile, you know the one that's like, This guy's weird, but I'm getting paid to be nice to him.

"A girl...about my age..."

"Ah, so for a significant other?"

"No!" My reaction must have startled the employee, because she gives me a curious glance. "Well...I mean...she's not my girlfriend...but I wanted to get her a Christmas present..."

"I see." The woman shifts slightly. "Do you have any idea of what you were looking for?"

"Not really..." I just know that the store employee is wishing that she had left this incompetent kid that doesn't know the difference between a bracelet and a brassiere alone. I have to be her worst customer in months. "I have no idea what she likes."

"Hmm. In that case, you're better off going with accessories, cosmetics, or perfume. If you don't know what her taste in fashion is, these tend to be safe choices. We're close to the fragrance counter, so follow me this way for just a second." She begins striding toward a set of glass cases decorated with images of European fashion models, her high heels click-clacking on the tile floor, and I obediently follow.

"Now, do you have a budget?" she asks me as we reach the glass cases, which I can now see are filled from top to bottom with glass bottles of every color. They're all in English- I can tell just by looking at them that I can't even hope to afford any of them.

"Yes," I reply, hoping my nervous reaction doesn't clue her into the fact that I'm one firing away from freezing to death in a cardboard box next to the Tsutsumi River.

"In that case, I'd recommend Shoseido Silver Arrow." The woman steps behind the counter, taking a sleek, polished silver bottle out, and sprays it on a piece of paper. "This is a popular winter perfume, and we're currently running a sale on it. Try it out." She pushes the piece of paper toward me, and instantly my nostrils are assaulted with the smell of vanilla, then spices and pine needles. It smells like what I imagine winter must smell like in places that aren't Aomori.

"It smells really good..."

"I'm glad you liked it! The large size will be ¥4,380, and the travel size is ¥2,510. We've got a 65% markdown for the holiday season."

"I'm sorry...that's still too expensive."

Wow. You could tell from her expression that I just shattered her confidence. I don't think she's ever heard of a shopper who can't afford a 2500-yen travel perfume.

"Why don't we try the jewelry section instead?" she says quickly, trying to keep her composure.

The next thing she shows me is an obviously plastic pearl necklace. "Now this is a favorite among female shoppers on a budget. ¥2,085-"

I slowly shake my head. "Sorry. Still too much for me."

This time, I can tell she's obviously rattled, or thinks I'm the biggest cheapskate in the world. Or both.

Nervously, she turns tail and starts heading back toward the crowded clothes racks. "I'm sure we can find something she'll like in the winter accessories section."

She shows me a pair of cute white knitted mittens. ¥1,890. Too expensive.

A toboggan decorated with snowflakes. ¥1,440. Too expensive.

A 3-pack of fuzzy socks with snowmen on them. ¥1,225. Too expensive.

At this point, the saleslady looks like she's at her wits' end. I'm honestly really sorry. She must have pissed off the gods or drawn bad luck on a fortune yesterday and instead of helping out a customer who actually had money to spend, she got the brokest guy who's ever walked through these doors in 30 years wasting her time. I wish she would just give up instead of trying so hard to do her job. It's pretty depressing watching her go cheaper and cheaper. At this point, I'm ready to just take the L like a man and buy Hashigami a pack of cookies on Christmas Eve and call that a gift.

We're walking toward another section, and by now all the pep in the employee's step is gone as her shoulders slump and she slowly drags herself toward the next item. Suddenly, I see a flash of red, peeking out of a rack full of white scarves. As I flip through the clothes on the rack, a red-and-green tartan scarf reveals itself in all its glory, standing out against its fuzzy white brethren.

The tag on the back is orange, with CLOSEOUT written large at the top. But that's not all. Someone marked out the original price with a permanent marker, and wrote ¥798 in sloppy handwriting.

Wow. I might have lucked out. I actually like this. I have no idea if Hashigami will even like it- I mean, her uniform had some red on it, and she usually wears a scarf, but both of those are necessities. The red kerchief is just part of the uniform- there's no guarantee she actually likes the color. And scarves are a requirement in this brutal arctic climate. She may hate it for all I know. She may end up disappointed that I didn't shell out 21,500 for that prize figure of Caelym from 2012 on iBay.

But for this price, I have to take a risk. It's way better than anything else I could have gotten with the limited amount of money I have. It's soft and the pattern is pretty.

The saleswoman seems to have noticed that my footsteps behind her have stopped, because she turns around. "Sir?"

"What about this?" I hold out the scarf toward her, and she looks at it with a confused expression.

"This looks like it's from a couple seasons ago..." she mutters, taking a look at the tag. "It's your call, but I would advise against it myself..."

"It's the only thing I can afford."

She stays silent for a second, and then peppily chirps, "Would you like it gift-wrapped?"

I leave the store with the scarf wrapped in paper covered with Santa Clauses and with a bow on top, tucked inside my thin jacket. It takes me a second to realize that it's the first time I've ever bought a girl a Christmas gift. Manago and I didn't even make it to last Christmas.

Oh, crap. What have I done? Once she sees this, there's only one way that Hashigami would take it-

Calm down, I tell myself. I've got to calm down before my heart rate goes into the stratosphere again. Surely she understands that it's just a token of my gratitude. It's like friend chocolate on Valentine's Day. I don't want to ruin our friendship by doing something weird-

There's an image that pops into my head as I slowly walk to the nearest bus stop while the wind whips my hair, the snow spits, and the cars on the street plow through the dirty slush. It's of Hashigami opening her present, her eyes sparkling, and saying how much she loves it. Then, she turns red and whispers that she's been waiting for so long to say something to me but never had the courage to do it.

...Then, she tells me she's always loved me.

Yeah, right. I'm gonna stop myself right there. Come on, Kou. You can't be that down bad. That's just pathetic. I mean, I am pathetic, but there are some lines guys just shouldn't cross. She's a really good friend, and I like being her friend, but realistically there's just no way that I ever would have half an iota of a chance with her-

I'm stopped in my tracks by the LED billboard at the covered bus stop flashing a concerning message.

Due to the inclement weather, the H21 line service to Toyama Danchi is delayed by 30 minutes. We apologize for the inconvenience.

Well, that sucks. Snow and ice, probably. I hate living in Aomori. Stuff like this happens all the time and it just turned my 30 minute bus ride into a whole hour. At least I have plenty of time-

It's 4 pm right now! I spent THAT long in the world's saddest department store?! My shift at the Kyoudai Mart starts at 5!

Oh, God, please let the bus make it...please let the bus make it...please don't let me get confronted by any wannabe heroes on the bus again, either…