This Neighbor Girl Can't be Serious

Too much has happened today… I don’t know if my heart can take it. Bombing out of the contest in last place, Akimoto almost assaulting me—

So the list isn’t very long. But still! These are two very mentally draining things.

“I’m home—” I called out as I stepped into the entryway.

“Welcome home Mako.”

“Couldn’t you try and be a little more enthusiastic to see your brother?”

“Eh? I see you everyday. Why is today special?”

“Because… I got my heartbroken today.”

The one who had been responding to me was my younger sister, Sayuri—who was on the living room sofa.

Once hearing, “I got my heartbroken”, she shot up from her slouched position along with another girl. They were both wearing the same deep-blue sailor uniform, meaning they also recently returned.
I’m pretty sure my sister’s friend’s name is Nakatsuka? Nanatsuka? I don’t know exactly, and I’m too afraid to ask.

However, my sister’s once lazy responses suddenly became frantic. Had I said something weird?

“W-what!? Huh!? Your heart broken!? D-did you confess to someone!?”

“N-no, it was—”

“That means you must’ve liked someone…”

Nakatsuka joined in with her own comment. “Maybe he just confessed to a random girl he thought was cute?”

“No no no, there’s no way. You know Mako too, he could never do something like that.”

Sayuri… Did you really need to deny that idea so valiantly? Do I really look that unconfident?
The two girls continued speculating on what I could’ve meant. This confusion could’ve been avoided if they gave me a moment to speak.

“Was it Fujioka-chan!?” My sister’s eyes lit up with anticipation.

“Oh! The girl next door!?” Nakatsuka joined in on her excitement.

“No! You two, please listen! I was just exaggerating! O-of course I have’t confessed to anyone.”

“Oh… then why’d you let us get all worked up?”

Because you don’t listen! “What I meant was, I got knocked out of the writing contest I entered.”

Both of the girls' expressions dropped back to the same lazy looks they greeted me with.

“Ah, yeah, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Mm, yeah, better luck next time.”

“No sympathy!?”

“I can’t find any, sorry. Maybe Fujioka-chan has some… but I doubt it.”

Sayuri! How can you be so cold to your brother!?

After letting out a sigh and hanging my head, I made my way to my bedroom. At least there I was welcomed.

My room was the same as I always left it—unattractive to girls. Now, this isn’t a diss on anyone who has a similar room to me. At a certain point we just have to accept the truth, right?

I had two fairly large bookshelves packed with light-novels being the main attraction. Any series you could want, I have. It’s not an addiction to buying them, it’s inspiration for writing, alright?

Oh, but that name Sayuri mentioned reminds me… “I should probably tell Fujioka-san as well.”

“Tell me what? “

I jumped and nearly hit the ceiling—my heart really can’t take anymore of this today. Also, this showed me how terrible my instincts are. If I was being attacked and I had the option to fight back or run, my body chooses the secret third option: jump in place.

After taking a second to calm down I straightened my glasses and fell back on my bed. “That I… got knocked out of the RLNP Light Novel contest in the first round…”

“Hmm~? Is that so, Makoto-kun? I never would have seen that coming.”

“My sister was right. I wouldn’t find any sympathy from you.”

Fujioka slowly paced across my room towards the bookshelf. She usually did this whenever she was in my room and would on occasion borrow a book.

“You want to know something interesting?” She asked.

“Huh.”

“Even though I’m an illustrator, I made it to the second round of judging.”

I rolled onto my side and let out a high-pitched noise. I don’t know exactly how to describe it, but it was definitely weird.

“There’s no way I’m that bad at writing! I know I can write!”

“Your results say otherwise.”

“Shut up… You’re not a writer. You wouldn’t get the struggles.”

“I suppose... I’m still a creative though. I go through all the same struggles you do. Only, I’m not bad at what I do.”

She gave me a cheeky grin like she really got me with that one.

I just realized, I never explained who or why this girl is in my room. Her name: Fujioka Chihiro—a third year student at my high school.

Fujioka comes in at a whopping one-hundred seventy nine centimeters—with proportions to match. To top it all off: silky black hair she keeps in a ponytail.

She was still wearing our school uniform, which meant she had just gotten home as well . However, she wore it in an unusual way, opting for dress pants and a long-sleeved dress shirt. Instead of a skirt and a cardigan.

This gave her a more “mature” aura.

It was by no means a bad look. If I had to be honest it was a little… uhh… I feel myself turning red right now, I can’t continue... But let’s just say she’s highly sought after by guys in all grades, 

Her footsteps grew closer until she was at the edge of my bed—patting me on the shoulder.

“Come on Makoto-kun, don’t feel too bad. You might get better.”

“Might!? That’s not reassuring at all!”

“You know Makoto-kun, maybe it’s time you consider this might not be the right path for you? There’s no shame in giving up after failing miserably.”

“I don’t need this right now…”

Fujioka wandered back to my room’s window and sat up on the sill—titling her head.

“Then what do you need?”

“I need a new idea for a story… and I want you to go back to your room.”

“How mean~”

I shot her a disapproving look before smothering my face with a pillow.

“Anyways,” She continued. “Good luck with your next project, and remember, I won’t be doing illustrations for you… not after last time...”

“Yeah yeah.”

A moment later I heard her slip through the window and it shut behind her. I really need to start locking it…

I just realized, I never explained the “why”. Fujioka Chihiro is my next door neighbor, and our apartment buildings are constructed uncomfortably close to each other. This unfortunate fact allows her to slip through her window and into my room.

Why haven’t I started locking it? Well… It’s nice to sometimes have an unexpected conversation or check up with someone. 

Though, as one might expect, it has led to a few less than optimal incidents. Like her coming in while I’m changing, or while I’m changing, or the time I was changing…

Huh… I’m starting to think the timing’s on purpose… I don’t have blinds either…

That’s not the point right now though! What matters is I’ve hit a wall with my writing. I want to write so badly but I can’t bear to face it… There’s so much I’d have to do to fix my piece I just can’t.

I really do need a new idea.