My Family Has An Unwanted Guest.

The beauty salon my mother runs sits on a rundown backstreet in Shakujii, Nerima. You leave the train station, go past the shops nearby, take a few turns, pass by the old, ramshackle corrugated aluminum apartments, the boarded-up storefronts, and the buildings that look like they're about to fall down, and then you're at the salon, and the old house that Dad bought for us. Which we'll be leaving behind in a few weeks.

The lights are on in the windows, and through the glass panes I can see my mom tidying up. We have a few repeat customers, but they're mainly old ladies who live in the neighborhood- nothing sustainable enough to make money. All of them are gone when I get off from school, anyways. So my mom is the only person inside. I'm used to this scene.

But today, something is different.

Behind me is a set of footsteps, not as loud as mine, but smaller and daintier. They were following me onto the train, and then off it, and down the side streets, until I got home.

I'm trying not to look behind me.

"I'm home..." The door jingles as I push it open.

"Welcome back, Takkun." Mom continues to sweep. "How was school?"

"Same old, same old."

Ever since the news, it's like we repeat this same robotic conversation every day. No one wants to say anything about the move. It's like we're trying to pretend it doesn't exist, and somehow that'll make it go away.

"You need me to help you close up?" I sling my bag down on the counter near the door, by the cash register.

"That would be great, thanks. If you could get the combs and scissors out of the antiseptic solution and dry them off, then take out the-" She trails off as the doorbell jingles behind us. "Oh. Takkun, customer."

Damn it. I knew just going in my own house wouldn't be enough to stop her. I knew.

"Welcome to Salon Biwa, how can I help you?" Quickly hopping behind the counter, I put on my fakest smile.

The girl looking around our dumpy little business like a kid at D*sney World for the first time is supposed to be the most popular student council president in Shinchou's history, beloved by every student, even the delinquents, and she saves kids from burning buildings in her spare time. The rumors are that she's one step away from being a Buddha. But I've learned several very important things about her. Number one is that she doesn't actually care if the recipient of her "heroism" actually wanted it in the first place. Number two is that she has no concept of minding her own business, and she'll go an entire hour out of her way to get involved in someone else's.

I've come to realize that I'm probably the only person at Shinchou who doesn't like Reika Suzuran.

"Hmm. Could use some work...but it's a lot better than I expected," she mumbles to herself, quickly flicking her eyes back and forth as my mom scrambles to set all her barber supplies up at the chair closest to the window.

"Are you looking for anything in particular, valued customer?" I grit my teeth as I repeat the fake service employee-speak back to her. Even though she's got the reputation at school of being basically Jesus, she's acting exactly like those gangsters did- treating the place my dad put his heart and soul into as an "investment opportunity".

Just go away already. I'm already backed into a corner as it is. I have to be the strong one, the one who shows my siblings that even though what's happening to us is cruel, it's just life. If I break down, they will, too. We don't need someone trying to "help" us and just making it worse by getting their hopes up for nothing. I don't care what kind of selfless hero she is. Only a god could make sixty-three million appear in three weeks. Maybe not even any of them could. Just leave us alone. Please.

"A haircut and a color, if you don't mind." She grins like she doesn't care about anything in the world.

"That will be ¥5000, plus tax. Are you paying up front or afterwards?" I hold out my hand, a fake smile on my face. "Unfortunately, we are cash only at this time."

"Seems a little expensive..." she mutters as she digs through her schoolbag.

"We set our prices to reflect the standard of quality our honored guests will receive during their time here." If you think we're ripping you off, LEAVE. GO AWAY. We have to keep the lights on, too. Not that any of that matters anymore.

"Fine by me, if you're gonna be that way about it." A ten thousand-yen bill quickly lands in my hands. I quickly fish a few bills out of the cash register, trying not to make eye contact while I do.

"Chair on the left, near the window, please."

"Thanks, Aikawa-kun." She grins as she saunters over to the chair where my mom is waiting.

"Good evening, my name is Aikawa, and I will be taking care of you today…"

"Suzuran. Nice to meet ya!"

Their voices fade into the background. Ugh. Of course she came in 30 minutes before we close, which means that it's gonna be on me to sweep up and sanitize and do everything we need so we're not here until eight and my siblings won't start crying about where dinner is. Tamaki's probably up in the living room gaming away while I have to clean up all on my own. And I've got homework tonight, too, right after I got my sternum destroyed. It still hurts. Guess I'm not sleeping until 1 in the morning.

Grumbling, I grab the broom and dustpan and start sweeping. I can't go very fast, though. All I can do is listen to the snippets of conversation between my mom and the president as I go.

"Which of the following colors would you like, ma'am? We have golden shades, ash blonde, silver, red, and some more exotic colors on this page." She flips the pages of a book open, showing them to President Suzuran, who's relaxing with her head back in the chair, not caring at all that she's causing both my mother and me extra work.

"Just how it currently is. O-54 seems like it's the closest."

I take a quick peek over at the book of shades my mother is pointing at- it's garish orange. Like a traffic cone. It looks like the hair that kabuki actors playing demons wear.

"If I might suggest something, ma'am...I think that a more subdued color like O-35 may go better with your skin tone. Or I can layer a darker and lighter orange, or blend it with another color. G-10 is what my son likes...that may go well with O-54 if you want to do a different color for the base and one for the highlights."

"O-35..." She squints at the book. "If you recommend it so much, it must be decent, at least. I'll see how that one is."

"Certainly, ma'am. No layering with another color?"

"Nah...I don't like that kind of look."

"I'll note that. It was popular with girls your age when I was in high school, but we don't get many customers your age here, so my information might be out of date...by the way, just before we begin, are you sure your school allows this and won't force you to dye it back to its natural color, right? I assume not, since it’s already colored, but I wanted to make sure."

"Of course! I go to the same school as Aikawa-kun. Maybe there is some kinda rule against it. I don't know...but even if there is, it's not like they'll ever enforce anything. At least not against me." She slightly giggles, smugly. For me, it feels like the throbbing pain in my stomach just increased. On top of following me all the way back to my dumpy little home and getting a firsthand look at how poor I really am, now she's about to "girl talk" my mom...about me. Mom is probably gonna spill some embarrassing story about me from my childhood.

"Oh, I apologize...I should have recognized your uniform. Are you a classmate of Takkun's?"

"Something like that." She smirks, and the pain in my stomach grows even greater.

My mom takes Suzuran's long hair in her hands, examining it closely before tying it up. I'm not going to lie and say Mom's not good at doing her job. She is. That's why it's so painful that she probably won't get to do it anymore.

"Did you dye your hair yourself?"

"Bingo. My mom won't give me any money to spend on professional styling. She thinks it makes me look like a...loose woman. Her words. So I gotta do what I can. I tapped into my savings for this one."

"Oh, my...I wouldn't exactly agree with her on that point."

"It's not like I care. She's not really my mom, anyways."

"Oh, I see..." A look of concern crosses my mom's face. "Please follow me this way, ma'am."

They head to the shampoo chair, the president giving me a smirk as she passes by. The salon is still so tiny that I can hear everything, no matter where they go. I just act like I'm not paying attention, though.

"Do you get a lot of female customers my age here?" the president chirps as my mom starts the shampoo process.

"I'm afraid not...the only way I'm connected to the fashion trends of today is my older daughter, but she won't let me touch her hair. She's twelve. And my younger one, who's five, is too young for styling anyways..."

...That wasn't an issue with me, Mom. You would have given me a visual kei haircut in kindergarten if Dad didn't stop you.

"Aikawa-kun...and your two daughters...that's three total?"

"Five, actually...I have a younger son who's nine, and my youngest daughter has a twin brother of the same age..."

"Oh, really? I can tell Aikawa-kun's an older brother from the way he acts at school...but I didn't realize he had so many younger brothers and sisters. I only have one younger sister."

"I see...if you don't mind, ma'am, how is my son doing at school? Sometimes I worry."

Here we go. They were 100% gonna gossip about me. I knew it from the start.

"Well..." the president mumbles, deep in thought. "I'm a couple grades above him, so I don't really see him much...but I think he's pretty responsible. He gets along with everyone."

Yeah, everyone except you.

"That's how I knew he was someone's older brother. He's great at being a peacemaker. He's smart, too, but if you didn't pay attention to the class rankings you'd have no idea he's in the upper 75. No one gets jealous of him because he's so easygoing, so they don't realize he's beating them on exams and try to 'take him down a notch' or whatever the bullies say."

God damn it. Why are my ears starting to burn? Just ignore it.

"Oh, dear...I wouldn't say he's anything that special, if he takes after me..."

"There's a lot of people in his grade that like him. I do club activities with first-years that know him and they tell me how he’s a good friend all the time."

"I- I'm glad to hear that, ma'am."

She peers down and closes her eyes as Mom works the shampoo in. "Do you get a lot of requests for hair color here?"

"...I'm afraid not very often."

"So I guess you don't use most of the dye you have stocked?"

"Unfortunately not, but we keep them around for the sake of customer convenience."

I've gotta pretend I'm not listening. Just sweep the floor. Even though there's nothing left to sweep up at this point and all the chairs are fully sanitized...because no one uses them. The only licensed cosmetologist here at this point is my mom.

"How would you like the haircut, ma'am? How much to take off, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Up to my shoulder blades, thanks."

As I pass by the curtains that lead to my family's living space, muffled whispers creep from behind them. "Stop pushing!"

"Shut up, Poop Face! You stop pushing!"

I don't even have the energy to deal with them today. Just keep moving. Put the trash out.

Going back the other way, there are still hissed whispers coming from behind the curtains.

"Move, I can't see!"

"I can't move anywhere!"

"That's because you're too fat!"

"Huh?! You better not, you little- Hey! Wait!"

A small, tiny blur darts from behind the curtains, zooms by me, and comes to a stop in front of the student council president, who stretches as she gets up from the chair, peering down into a hand mirror. "Whoa, it looks great-"

"Pretty onee-san, who are you?"

My mom frantically turns her head to see my youngest sister staring up at the student council president. "Oh, no...I'm so sorry, honored customer...Kappyon, where's your brother?"

"Sleepy," Touka states confidently, still staring up at President Suzuran. Of course she's curious. The little ones have never seen anyone in the salon under the age of 50.

Behind me, the whispers grow stronger. "Block him! You got him, Poop Face?"

"Yeah, I've got him!"

"Let me gooooooo!" That one wasn't a whisper.

"Shh! Be quiet, dummy!"

"Go back upstairs, alright?" My mom frantically tries to move between my sister and the president. "Mommy will be right there..."

"Pretty onee-san?"

The president leans down, her face sparkling. "My name's Reika. What about you?"

"I'm Touka, I'm five, and when I grow up I want to be a hair stylist just like Mommy!" She puffs out her chest as she says it. "Anna-sensei at my kindergarten says I'll be good at it!"

Mom's attempts to block my sister from getting in her customer's way aren't working. Touka's already squirmed away and is right in front of the president.

"Listen, Touka-chan, I've got something to tell you, okay? But you have to promise not to repeat it to anyone."

"What's that?" My sister's eyes and mouth are both wide open at this point- she's stunned.

"I'm an idol."

"Whoa!" She looks like she just witnessed a celebrity in the flesh.

"If you try really hard, you can be one too."

"Really?"

"Of course. You're cute enough."

My sister is so overcome with happiness that she can't even speak. She instead shimmies from side to side, tapping her feet in excitement.

The president not only sticks her nose in other people's business, she lies to little kids, too. Nice. What a friggin' hero.

Frantically, my mom steps between them once again. "Kappyon, go over there with your brother. I'll be right there...I just have to take care of our honored customer..."

"Eh? But what about idol onee-san?"

"Please, just go with Tatsu-nii, alright?"

"Let go of me!" As I quickly move to intercept my little sister and steer her away from the president, a loud wail comes from behind the curtain.

"You guys can come out, you know," I sigh.

No less than a second after I say that, Tamaki comes toppling out from behind the curtain onto the wood floor of the salon, and then Tasuku falls on top of her, holding Touya in the air by the armpits as he squirms and struggles just like it's the Leopard King or something.

"You're all done, ma'am...was everything acceptable today?" Mom stops, noticing the president giggling at my younger siblings. "Ma'am?"

"Oh, yeah..." She quickly turns around as Tamaki and Tasuku try to untangle themselves from their impromptu game of Twister. Touya finally wiggles free and bounds over to his sister.

"Ya-kun, Ya-kun, guess what! That pretty lady over there is an idol! She said I could be one, too!"

Turning back to my mom, the president chirps, "It was great! Can I schedule another appointment for next month?"

"I'm very sorry, ma'am, but we're going out of business...we will be closed permanently in three weeks. I apologize greatly for the inconvenience." She frantically bows.

Tasuku makes it to his feet first, glaring at President Suzuran, who doesn't even seem to realize he's there.

"Aw, man, that's too bad," the president mutters. "Can I ask why?"

Damn it, you know exactly why. You know everything. Don't try to play dumb.

"I'm afraid it's confidential..."

"If it's related to finances, I can help with consulting. I have plenty of experience with small businesses. I've been an assistant manager of one since I was in middle school. I've also helped a few others get out of the red. Here's my business card." She fishes something out of her bag and hands it over to my mom, who peers at it. My eyelid immediately twitches. She obviously went to the copy shop or the school library or something and printed those out to make it seem like she's someone important, like that British guy on that TV show about fixing failing restaurants who swears a lot, instead of a high school student.

Just leave. Go away and don't come back. You're making a mockery out of us and everything we've tried so hard to protect. It's over. We all know it's over and you putting your nose where it doesn't belong and making this big scene isn't gonna help.

"Thank you, ma'am, but I'm afraid it really can't be helped..."

"We'll see. I'd hate it if a really good salon like this closed down."

"Hey, who are you?" Now Tamaki's on her feet, staring daggers at the president.

"Yeah!" Tasuku's right behind her, also narrowing his eyes at her. "How do you know Tatsu-nii? Are you his..."

"I'm just a friend."

No, you are not.

"Huh..." Tamaki squints. "You're not...going out with Onii-chan, are you?"

"What if I am?" The president grins.

"You're lying! There's no way he'd ever go out with someone like you! I mean...it's not like I care...and he's a big stupid dumb idiot...but he'd NEVER date a person that looks like you!"

"Yeah!"

"Shut up, Poop Face!"

"Huh?! I was agreeing with you!"

"You really love your big brother, don't you?" The president smirks.

"No I don't!" Tamaki's turned a particularly luminescent shade of red. "He's stupid and he won't leave me alone and he treats me like he's my dad but he’s only a few years older than me and he makes me study every night even though my grades are fine and he's also stupid-"

"Honored customer-" I wedge my way between them before this situation can escalate. "We are closed at the moment, so I will escort you to the exit. Please be careful on your way home."

She grins even wider as I gulp, and then finally turns around to head for the door. "Oh well. I overstayed my welcome. Fuu-chan's probably worrying, too..."

As the door shuts and the September evening air hits both of our faces, the president turns around, pirouetting on one foot. "Aikawa-kun, your mom's really good at-"

"Cut it out."

"That wasn't nice."

"You've seen everything. Are you happy now?"

"Of course I am. Both your little sisters are cute."

I wasn't talking about that, moron.

"That’s not what I meant. Are you gonna think differently of me? From now on?"

"For what?"

"Don't play dumb. You know what I mean. We're out of money. We can barely feed ourselves. You gonna laugh at us? Tell everyone at school that I'm transferring because I'm a poor piece of human garbage?"

"Why would I?" She gives me a knowing look. "Sometimes small businesses fall on hard times. I've seen it happen before- I'm also a member of the working class."

"Sure you are." I can feel my blood start to boil, yet again. "I bet your parents sell Rolexes to trillionaires and you think that makes you 'working class'."

She laughs. "Not even close. My family runs a bakery chain."

"A bakery?!"

"Yeah, sorry I didn't live up to your expectations, Aikawa-kun. We nearly went bankrupt when I was younger. I know what it's like. Your mom's really talented, so if we tweak a few things, I bet you'll be back making profit in no time-"

"You think this is some sort of game or something?! We're sixty-three million in debt." If this was a cartoon, there would be steam coming out of my ears. "None of us asked for you to 'help' us. Not my mom, not me, not my sister, not my brother- none of us. Just leave us alone."

She grins, tossing her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Aikawa-kun."

The president grows smaller and smaller in the dim, flickering streetlights until she turns the corner, passing out of sight.

I think I like her even less than I did before, if that's possible. Just like so many other times, I'm alone in the Shinchoushi student body.