2.1 - The Date (send help?)

My hair and date fit set for the evening, I stepped out of my apartment. Despite doing my best at pretending to be all cool about the situation, I had to admit to myself that I didn't really feel the most positive emotions about the upcoming date. I had this almost certain feeling that she'd dislike me. Not only that, as I checked her profile pictures again and again, I had come to the realization that I myself didn't really have any particular romantic interest towards her. It was mostly her appearance itself that made me interested—she had a glamorous and sort of flashy style. I liked the shiny makeup and her various jewelry.

But our conversations together? I wasn't feeling it, at all.

As I waited by the traffic lights to cross the street, I suddenly had the realization that… maybe she was also holding back her personality during the online chat. It's not like I was showing my authentic self, so how could I expect her to do the same? Nodding my head, I decided to truly be honest facing any conversation topic that'd come up during the date—including my interests. It'd be me, Yuuma Matsushima, who would participate in the date, not my online persona. It's the least I could do for my date, offering my sincere self.

Still… that was way easier said than done, so I felt a lump of anxiety strike my throat. Just a few steps more, and I'd arrive at the restaurant we'd agree to meet up in. During my halt of hesitation, my phone vibrated with a notification.

"Are you closeby yet? I've been waiting for ten minutes now."

Shoot! Why was she so early? I hastened my steps, as I typed a clumsy reply. "Sorry, I am here, I am here!" A Pien emoji to soften the mood (or so I hoped). It was still 15 minutes earlier than our meeting time, how come she was here already… Gosh…

I stepped inside the restaurant as the waiters did their usual greeting. I located my date and made a beeline to her seat. With an awkward wave I greeted her. "Ah, good evening, Tanida-san. I'm sorry for… being late?" She lowered her phone, our dating app still open on the screen. One glance and I felt my stomach do a flip—she was talking with someone else!

"Hello, well… It's okay. I was a bit too early, my part-time job ended a bit earlier today."

I nodded, understanding. "Oh, right. Tanida-san, you were working as a waitress, right…?" She kept on typing on her phone, not even looking at me. "Mhhm. Though, I do another job on Fridays." She finally put away her phone into her bag and smiled. "My apologies, it was disrespectful of me to keep texting. Also, just call me Umi. No need to use formal language either."

I wanted to focus on her smile, but my eyes were stuck to her bag—it was designer and so, so beautiful! A wave of admiration (with a tiny drop of envy) crashed over me. What kind of job was it, so that she could afford that…? As I was calculating whether to ask her about that or not, a waiter handed us the menu, interrupting the current flow of the conversation. I was so focused on how my date would go on a conversational basis that I almost forgot why people went to restaurants in the first place. The prospect of a delicious, warm meal swatted away my worries.

I started to scan my eyes over the crowded menu. Many options, many variations. I loved to try new food, so usually I'd let my friends choose for me—for that surprise factor. However, in my current situation, it'd be a bit awkward to make someone I had just met pick for me. Unsure of my decision, I glanced at my date, and felt relieved that she was also still in the process of making her decision. Her hands looked absolutely elegant flipping through the sections of the menu. Before I realized, I was staring at her decorated, shiny nails instead of my menu. Only when she answered that she'd eat chicken salad, in a panicky state, I decided to order the first dish I happened to place my eyes on. "Oh, then… I'll take this one," I announced my pick, pointing at the colorful picture of a rice meal with many sea food delicacies on top. It was a bit expensive, but there was nothing to be done at that point…

She called a waiter over, my eyes following her beautiful hands. Once again, I sunk deep in thoughts. Her nails are really, really nice. Which salon she'd get them done, I wonder… I shook my head, what was I thinking about? It's not like I wanted to get my nails done, plus the only girl close to me preferred to keep her nails all trimmed and clear-polished…

When the waiter arrived, Umi placed both of our orders, but I made sure to thank the waiter as well. With that out of the way, Umi turned to me and opened her lips to speak. My heart was beating fast—here we go, the date was starting for real!

"So… Yuuma-kun, was it?" With my nod of confirmation, she went on. "Did you come from work tonight? I hope you're not tired." She had a cool, nonchalant way of speaking, but I could feel that her statement carried a spark of genuine sentiment. I moved my hands in front of me. "Oh, no, not at all! I really enjoy my work, and my coworkers mostly leave me alone to do my own thing anyway." The faintest of smiles appeared on her features. "You love your job, huh… How nice. It was something to do with… writing, correct?"

"Yes, I work at an advertising agency. I write advertisement scripts, blog and social media posts and the like. I get to see many interesting products, and it's very satisfying to see some of the ads I worked on in online spaces and even on TV!" Hearing my enthusiasm, she chuckled softly. Her cold tone was still somehow there, but it was a beautiful and encouraging sound nonetheless. "Social media posts… Who knows, maybe I could benefit from your services myself, one day." I nodded with sincere interest. "Your socmed profiles are amazing, Umi-san! You have so many followers, you're practically a mini-celeb at this point. If you get any sponsorship offers, maybe I could write the captions, right!"

She approved, saying "It'd be the best to get the service of a passionate person after all. If I ever need help, I know who to call." She thought for a bit. "Hmm, I don't really do much reading myself, but… Do you write your own stories, too? I'd love to read them, at least more than mere commercial work."

Without thinking, I responded. "Of course I do! Storytelling is my real passion!" She tilted her neck with interest. "Oh, cute. So, what genre? Horror? Fantasy or maybe criminal?" As she laughed at herself, saying that it'd be quite the unexpected side of me if I were to write a crime thriller, I could feel cold sweat form on my forehead. I said to myself that I'd be honest no matter what—and here it was! A moment to expose something crucial to my true character…!

"I… actually like to write romance!" Her eyes widened behind her long fake lashes, and even more so when I continued with, "I am… a big fan of shoujo manga, and I love to make up my own scenarios, and stuff."

Her face turned completely blank. "Oh. Is that so."

Help! Send help!!! What have I done?!

Was there any possibility to turn back from this point?

…and why the hell was my mouth moving on its own, adding fuel to the fire?

"Ahaha. Actually, I'll be attending an anime con next weekend, so…" She pursed her lips for a moment, only to say "...an Otaku?" afterwards.

That's it. Now I had done it. I lowered my head in defeat. "Ah, um… Well, I guess you consider me some sort of it."

She mumbled something I didn't quite catch and started to search inside her bag. The atmosphere turned real heavy and quiet, and all I could do was stare at the little fake plant in the middle of our desk…