There’s No Freaking Way I’ll be Your Lover! Unless… Vol 7

Chapter 5:
The Horrors™ Persist? No Freaking Way!

IT WAS THE SECOND TRIMESTER of Amaori Renako’s second year of junior high, and she had absolutely nothing to show for it. Frankly, her life sucked.

She slouched her way to school and plopped into her chair. She dawdled through pulling out her books and pencils to postpone having to face first period starting in just a few minutes. She hated school. The only thing she liked were the earbuds she brought with her to class. Everything else? Everything else could go take a hike.

Every day went exactly like the day before. No clubs to spice it up. No serious studying to break the monotony. No friends, and no drive to make them either. She sat her ass in that chair because she had to.

When she hung out with her pals—all right, let’s call them people who reached out to her first—her mind was always wandering to last night’s gaming sesh. Adolescence was wasted on her—except admitting that would imply a sense of the dramatic Renako lacked. It wasn’t that deep. It was just nothing. Day after day of nothing. Renako’s life was on a slow decline toward her inevitably becoming a dropout.

Renako took a dim view of girls who actually cared. Girls who tried. When that started, she wasn’t sure—probably way back when she realized she’d never be like them. Probably when she gave up trying before she ever started. Before she knew that trying was even an option.

Being a try-hard was cringe. Anything that took effort was worth the effort of avoiding. Renako knew how the game was played; she knew the ending before the beginning was written. So why bother?

Why bother: Renako’s MO. In Renako’s book, too much happiness—too much energy, too much effort—was a bad thing. She was content where she was, and who cared if anyone else thought her life was meaningless?

Time would one day deposit Renako squarely in the realm of adulthood. Time would teach her the rules for navigating the real world. She was still a work in progress. Everyone felt like this. Everyone struggled to come to terms with growing up. Right?

So then how come it all came apart? How come Nashiji Komachi transgressed Renako’s halcyon contentment? How come she turned Renako’s world upside down?

Renako learned four things: How no one was there to watch out for her. How her contentment was all a lie. How people who never tried never succeeded. How easily a life could be rent in two by the whims of the spirited.

She lost a year and a half to Nashiji Komachi—a good tenth of her fifteen years of life. A tenth was a lot. If you lost a tenth of one’s body weight, that was equivalent to losing your arms.

Renako sunk into the seas of depression for a long, long, long time.

And then one day she mustered the strength in her arms and began to swim again. The kind auspices of her sister provided a life raft. Her desire propelled her forward—the desire to be different and the knowledge that she should be different. She learned to love herself—not a lot, but a little. A very little bit. Just enough to write herself a happy ending.

And that was how it should’ve been, but there was one thing nobody knew: Deep down, Amaori Renako was still just as scared as she had ever been. What was to stop her world from flying apart a second time? What was to stop Nashiji Komachi from shattering Renako’s life apart again?

The questions ran through her head like a mantra. A hundred times. A thousand times. A million. Fear took up permanent residence in her mind. The identity of this boogieman? The fateful autumn of Amaori Renako’s second year of junior high.

***

I ran.

I ran out of the park and away from Minato-san. I ran, and ran, and ran. I didn’t know where my legs were carrying me or how far I’d gone until I found myself on my own doorstep.

The black mold festering in my heart began its slow creep down the rest of my body as I panted. My lungs ached. I could barely breathe.

Nashiji Komachi. I couldn’t have forgotten that name if I tried. She was one of my classmates from junior high. Outgoing. Fashionable. Knew her mind and wasn’t afraid to speak it. Ringleader of all the girls in my grade. If our class had a final boss, it was her.

I’m trying to remember her face as I tell you this. I think it was beautiful, but in my memories, she was always scribbled out in black ink. All that comes to me now is the shape of her mouth when it insulted me. The anger and hatred in her eyes. The knives of her words.

I had scars from her. And they ached.

Grown in a sterile petri dish as I was, I’d never once dealt with someone who meant genuine ill. My first exposure to it turned my world upside down and made me retreat into my shell.

I wished I could say everything changed when I hit high school and turned over a new leaf. I wished I could say I’d left that all behind me. Made growth. But who was I kidding? I was still a baby. I’d missed all the milestones everyone else took for granted. I sobbed like an infant terrified of getting its first shots.

Well, what can I say? Injections are scary, and I was a sorry sack of crap.

I closed the curtains, darkening my bedroom, and settled down for another slow sink into the swamp of self-loathing.

Now a new question plagued me: What had Haruna’s fight been about? Had Minato—Nashiji Komachi’s little sister Minato—done the impossible?

Once the idea got into my head, it refused to leave me until I did something about it. It didn’t make me brave, trust me. The drive to act was just rattling around inside me and I had to get it out by any means necessary. It drove me out of my bedroom and right to knocking on Haruna’s door. I felt like I had blinders on. I could barely think. I was a mess, and boy, did I know it.

“Hmm?” The door opened. My sister—the truant, Amaori Haruna—appeared.

Whatever facial expression she was making refused to register in my retinas. My voice, rusty from lack of use, came out in a croak. “Hey, Haruna?”

“What is it? Jesus, you’re pale. What happened to you?”

“Explain something to me.”

“Explain what?”

Conversations didn’t work if one of the participants was a pile of incoherent, mumbling mush. I had to get these words out. I had to get them off my chest as fast as I possibly could.

“You knew, didn’t you?” I said. “About Nashiji Komachi.”

There was a sharp intake of breath.

“That Minato’s her sister.”

My sister raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with my inability to get to the point. “What’s all this about?”

“You had to,” I insisted. “You had to know. You—you punched—”

“Hey—”

“Was it because of me? Is it my fault you—?”

“Calm down. Let’s talk it out—”

“I can’t freaking calm down. Haruna, I—”

“For Pete’s sake, Oneechan!” Haruna threw her hands up in exasperation and brought them down in twin karate chops on my head.

“Ow!” I yelped. The impact made stars swim in front of my eyes. My hands flew to my head, and I stumbled a few paces back in an instinctual drive for self-protection.

“Calm down,” Haruna said.

I trembled. It wasn’t from the pain—not really. It was the shock. Haruna had hit me. Haruna had hit…

“Haruna, you serial people-hitter!” I cried.

“I said, calm down,” she said.

“I knew it. It’s all my fault you’re a serial people-hitter.”

“Yes, it is! It is your fault.”

Tears pricked my eyelids. “Why?” I asked. “Why would you sink so low for me—”

“Oh my God.” Haruna finally had enough of us talking past each other; she growled like a PC fan on its last legs. “For the last time, what the hell are you talking about?”

She leaned in, hands on hips, and fixed me with a withering glare. It was the look of an alley cat saying, Back off, buster. This is my turf.

Well. Um.

Much too late, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. I broke out into a nervous sweat. “Well,” I said, for a start. I followed that with “Um.” And then, “I talked to Minato-san.”

Anger flared in Haruna’s eyes. “Excuse me? Who gave you the right?”

Eep. Was this my second exposure to someone wishing me ill?!

My hands flew up to cushion my head. “In my defense,” I whimpered, “you weren’t telling me anything.”

“Why should I have? If I’d said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times: Stay in your own lane.”

“I can’t!” Now I was shouting too. I had to, if I wanted to stand my ground against Haruna. Volume equaled power. A spooked civet could achieve decibel levels many times its normal output to scare off predators. “You won’t tell me anything, and I’m worried about you!”

“I never asked you to worry about me. I told you I’m going back to school after two months anyway.”

“Two months is a long time. In two months, a Humboldt penguin can go from a baby to a full-grown adult!”

“Look, Oneechan…”

Not another no-nonsense “Look, Oneechan!” I hated my sister’s many barks of “Look, Oneechan!” Someone ought to have banned them.

“…my going to school or lack thereof is none of your business.”

“It very well could be!”

“Well, it isn’t.”

I gave Haruna my best puppy-dog eyes. “Are you sure?”

“You’re a complete idiot. Why would I punch my friend because of you? Huh? Huh?”

“I mean…”

I couldn’t wrest control of the conversation away from Haruna no matter what I tried. I was rapidly becoming an actor in a Haruna-directed script. She talked down at me like I was a little kid crying over a nightmare about the world ending. How was I supposed to answer that question? Did she have no idea the level of balls it required?

Nevertheless, summoning up my incorporeal cojones, I stammered out, “B-because you love me.”

Say Nashiji Komachi’s little sister spread a bad rumor about me. And Haruna lost her temper. And punched her. Um. Now that I laid it out like that, it sounded like a load of bull. But why else would Haruna have hit her friend? I had no evidence to back up my theory, but let’s be real—people don’t punch their friends for shits and giggles.

I looked down at the floor. And I waited.

Silence.

I flicked an eye in Haruna’s direction. Her arms were still folded across her chest, and the look in her eyes was one of utter derision.

Her voice was as cold as the vacuum of space. “You’re dumber than a brick.”

Yarghhhh! Chest heaving, struggling for oxygen, I gasped out, “I-in my defense…”

“The dullest knife in the block.”

“…what are the odds of you randomly punching Nashiji Komachi’s little sister—”

“Half a pack shy of a full deck.”

“Aggh!”

If this kept up, they were going to have to put “Cause of death: Haruna” on my tombstone. My HP bar flashed a big fat zero. Only the cane of my big-sisterly awesomeness kept me on my tottering legs.

“Who’s this girl you keep going on about, anyway?” my sister said. “This Nashiji Komachi person.”

“She’s...” I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Minato-san’s older sister.”

“And that’s relevant how?”

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? One I couldn’t answer, because I froze. Answering meant sharing my junior high trauma—the time I ticked off Nashiji Komachi and ended up getting shunned by my entire class. The inciting incident of my hooky phase. I’d never told anyone about it. Not my teachers. Not my parents. And certainly not my little sister. Did Haruna really not know? Or was she just pretending?

The tunnel vision that had driven me to knock on Haruna’s door began to fade. My courage flickered. What if Haruna truly didn’t know and I told her that Minato-san’s older sister was the one who had traumatized me for life? What if—and fat chance of this, I know—Haruna got mad? What if she said, “How dare she do that to my big sister!”? What if she stormed over to Minato-san’s house and…?

No, I told myself, that would never happen. Haruna didn’t love me that much.

The best I could expect was a derisive sneer. Maybe a “Are you kidding me? You had a mental breakdown over that? You’re a wimp.” Or a stone-faced, “That’s all? Why bother hiding it?” Heck, I’d march back into my room and never come out again.

UgggGGGHHH. I don’t know what to dooo. Why did things have to be so complicated?!

I finally snapped. “Stop messing with me, Haruna. I don’t get what’s going on. Why won’t you just talk to me? I’m your older sister! Remember?” I stamped my foot against the ground. My voice rose to a shout. “Aren’t you going through a hard time? Let me help! Let me share the load. We’re family. That’s what family’s for!”

I whipped my head up to look her right in the eye, and she…did nothing. Because she wasn’t there. She had already disappeared into her room and closed the door in my face.

On the other side, I heard clear as day, “You’re an imbecile.”

I flung myself onto the living room sofa, sprawled across it, and buried my face in a couch cushion. I looked like I was dead inside, and that’s because I was.

Being dead inside hurt. I couldn’t believe Haruna hadn’t told me a thing. I had nothing to show for all the lengths I went to—all the guts I spilled. My theories fit the facts, but I had no way to pin Haruna down and demand an answer. She was as prickly as a hedgehog. Reaching out to her only left me with a bloody palm full of quills.

It was just, like… She was my little sister, you know? I felt like I had to do something. But maybe I was just sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. Maybe I was lighting myself on fire for someone who never wanted help to begin with.

What did I hope to get out of constantly prodding her? Did I think she would come to me in tears and throw her arms around me? Tell me “Oneechan, I’m sho shorry. But you know…I did it all for you! (pleading face emoji)”?

I mean… Ngl, that’d be sweet…

No. I was being stupid. Beyond stupid. I deserved every one of Haruna’s insults.

My friends in the Quintet had joined me in my fight to save Haruna from herself. (The gall of me to use the word “save”! But if it turned out I was right and we did save her…) Ajisai-san, Satsuki-san, Kaho-chan, Mai… Having all of them behind me made me feel powerful. Like I could do something. So I’d invited my sister to take a bath with me, and after that heart-to-heart, I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I thought my sister was finally opening up to me.

And now here we were. It was my heart that had opened up—because Haruna had taken a razor blade to it. How the turns tabled.

They ought to have named me ignis Quisquiliamaori. Trash Firenako for short.

Not like it mattered. I was going to move out once I got to college anyway. Later, I’d get a job (in theory—let’s not stress the practicalities just yet) and would never live with my sister again. That’s all family amounted to in the end. That was all sharing the same blood meant. Just because I saw myself in Haruna and her struggles didn’t mean she felt the same way. She was her own separate person.

You know what? To heck with it. Have it your way, Haruna! Have fun playing hooky; see if I care! Play your video games from sunup to sundown. If I managed to graduate junior high, Haruna could do it with her eyes closed and her hands tied behind her back. Haruna wasn’t like me. Haruna wasn’t me.

They ought to have named me irrationalis Iracundiamaori. Salt Spirenako for short.

My sister didn’t know anything about Nashiji Komachi. She’d had no idea that Minato-san was her sister. It was all one big, bizarre coincidence, and I was the one who’d chosen to ascribe meaning to it.

Haruna could have punched her friend for loads of reasons. Maybe they liked the same boy. Maybe Minato-san subtweeted her. Maybe some secret third thing.

I felt so lifeless I didn’t even have the heart to doomscroll. I just picked up the remote and turned on the TV. It was playing some news that had approximately zero relevance to my life, so I zoned out again.

God. What if I did start staying home again? There was a test early next week. What if I just didn’t take it? Relationships sucked. What if I ghosted all my friends and vanished off the face of the earth? What if I sank into the couch cushions? What if I shifted into slug mode and never came bac—

“…Queen Rose’s model…”

Hmm?

Midway through my transformation into a couch slug, I realized the person on TV did, in fact, have relevance to my life. You could say we knew each other well. Like, really, really well.

Because that was Oduka Mai on screen.

That was her long blonde hair and pale skin. Those were her signature gentle smile and A+ looks. That was her career as a model for the famous fashion brand Queen Rose, her status as a girl who had everything in life, her role as my. My um. Ah ha. My girlfriend.

No! No, no, no! No girlfriends for me! I was Salt Spirenako, and a sizable chunk of that salt was directed at Mai. The lucky bastard. Look at her getting featured on TV, winning Haruna’s trust…swapping secrets with Haruna! Unlike me.

Okay, I wasn’t being fair. Mai had taken the time out of her busy schedule to help my sister for no reason but the goodness of her heart. She won Haruna’s trust through her hard work and constant diligence. Mai was incredible.

No! How dare I be calm about it? What happened to the salt? Was I doomed to half-ass even my angry ranting? Whatever happened to the second personality slumbering in me? Like in Jacknife? Angry junior high me?

Come out, mini me. Be your nasty, rotten self. Go be mean to Mai!

…Hello? Come on, girl! Up and at ’em!

Junior high me floated out of the dark recesses of my brain like a ghost.

Yeah, that’s right! Like my Stand! Go, Inescapable Past: School Refuser!

My Stand sneered. “What now, moron?”

I was shocked. Her insults were usually characterized by their length and color. Why was she employing such a concise, character-conscious dagger straight to the heart this time? Ah! Now I remember. I was my own biggest enemy.

Betrayed by my own fickle heart, the last of my desire to do anything drained away. I flopped back onto the couch and rolled over to face the ceiling.

Man. I wasn’t meant to handle this “life” thing. Could five trillion yen fall from the sky into my lap? Was that too much to ask for? Could Haruna have a change of heart and come to me in tears? “Oneechan, I’m sho shorry. But you know…I did it all for you! (pleading face emoji)”? All my worries would float away, and I could spend the rest of my days in mushy-wushy, kissy-wissy, Mai and Ajisai-san bliss…

Yeah, like that was ever going to happen.

It was at precisely that moment that Haruna thundered into the living room, her face a mask of shock. “Oneechan!” she exclaimed.

Huh? I lurched upright. Was this what I thought it was? Could it be—?

My sister, the four-time Renako insult champ, knelt next to my couch, phone in hand.

“What is it?” I said.

“Listen, I-I don’t know how to say this.”

My heart lurched into overdrive. “Yeah?” Was this it? Was this happening? Had she really had a change of heart? Had I gotten through to her? Had I made a difference?!

She thrust her phone in my face and demanded, “Did you see this?!”

“This” being a huge picture of Mai. So, no! I was way off base! (Not that I ever could have been near base—but it’s the principle of the matter.) What was I thinking, getting my hopes up and disappointing myself? Clown behavior. Take my butt to clown college and get me certified.

“I did not,” I said. Although I had seen Mai on the news a minute ago…

Haruna’s eyes flew open in shock. She shoved the phone further up under my nose. “Read! It! Now!”

“O-okay?” I said, taken aback by her pushiness. My eyes ran down the page and stopped. Because boy howdy.

Oduka Mai Announces Her Engagement

Oduka Mai, star model of Queen Rose Inc. has announced her engagement.

Oduka’s statement reads, “To my many supportive fans and business partners, it is my pleasure to share some very exciting news. I ask you to forgive the sudden nature of this announcement, but please be understanding. I hereby declare that I am engaged to be married to a young lady who is near and dear to my heart.”

“Hello?!” I screamed.

Um. What? Mai??? Someone pinch me, because I must be dreaming. What was she doing, telling everyone without asking me? Oh my God. Now I really wouldn’t be able to show my face at school!

I could see it now: A ring of reporters brandishing microphones. Throbbing strobe lights. The masses hounding me for comment. Envious, incessant scrutiny. My sudden rise to stardom—

My sister shook my shoulder, snapping me out of my fantasy. “Look! Did you see this?”

“Huh?”

I glanced back at the article.

Oduka’s partner is a famous French model.

I looked at my sister. My sister looked at me. “You’re telling me I’ve been a famous French model all along?!”

“…Well, I hope it was fun while it lasted.”

“Hello?!”

My sister shot me a look of pity, the kind you’d give to a friend going through a breakup.

Wait. A breakup?

***

When I got to school the next morning, half the city had beat me there. It wasn’t just kids from Ashigaya High. There were adults with cameras and everything—media dudes—all waiting for Mai.

I was not the famous French model mentioned in the article, of course. There was a little voice in the back of head that said but what if, but I think I would have remembered being a French model if I had been one.

I’d messaged Mai last night to ask what was going on, but she didn’t respond. I thought maybe, if I showed up early enough, I could catch her before class and get the inside scoop. However, it seemed like everyone else had the same idea.

I gave the crowd a wide berth. Eventually, a tall girl and her sullen frown sidled up next to me.

“Oh, Oduka Mai,” sighed Himiko Takada. “Ever the darling of the media.”

Takada-san was the ringleader of a group in class 1-B (whose name was temporarily escaping me.) Our friend groups had clashed in the interclass competition, but things were chill between us now. We were on speaking terms—in theory.

“Hi, Tadaka-san,” I said, not without trepidation.

“Hello to you too.” Oh good! We were on speaking terms. But Takada-san looked pissed. “I simply cannot believe her,” she said. “Look at everyone who came out in protest.”

I laughed weakly. There wasn’t much I could say, being a protester of sorts myself.

Takada-san used to be a model too, but after Mai stole the spotlight from her, she’d rebranded as Mai’s rival. She was kind of like a palette-swapped version of Satsuki-san.

“She sure knows how to draw a crowd,” I said.

“Huh! Indeed. Why, she only announced an engagement. You would think all these people have something better to do than kick up a fuss over such a little thing as that.”

You said it, not me…

“Although I suppose she is the figurehead of our current generation of teen models. She blew the competition out of the water in this year’s Fellow Model I Most Admire poll. Yes, for an influencer with such a broad, all-ages fanbase, I suppose a bit of buzz is to be expected. But really, there’s no call for such a crowd…”

Um?

“And we mustn’t forget her many TV appearances. Her reach and brand recognition are second-to-none. She raised Queen Rose to its lofty heights in the international fashion industry—without ever a single rumor of any relations with male celebrities, I might add. It’s little wonder her sensational statement has taken the world by storm… Huh! Sheeple, the lot of them.”

Uh.

“You…sure know a lot about her, Takada-san,” I pointed out.

She glared at me so hard I could hear it. Eep!

“But of course I do. Oduka Mai crushed me under her heel. Know thy self; know thy enemy. So I try, and still this spectacle of hers positively staggers me. Bowls me over, Amaori-san!”

“Uh-huh…”

I opted to back away slowly and vow to never mention that I was dating Mai. Just because you have a can opener doesn’t mean the lid has to come off of every can of worms.

Just then, Mai’s limousine pulled up to the gates. “Oh look,” I said. “It’s her!”

“Oduka Mai!” Takada-san whipped out a handkerchief from God-knows-where and bit down on it hard. I was amazed. I thought people only did that in fiction. Turns out the world’s full of interesting characters.

A woman (not Hanatori-san) got out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger side door. The crowd squealed and converged on the car the moment they caught a glimpse of Mai. She vanished from my sight under the wave of people.

“Hoo boy,” I muttered. “Someone’s popular.”

I knew Mai was a celeb, but seeing it with my own two eyes was another story. It was like watching a princess being received by her loving subjects.

“Oh!” cried Takada-san. (Being a good fifteen centimeters taller than me, it was way easier for her to see over the heads of the crowd.) “Another person just stepped out of the car! Don’t tell me. Is that…her fiancée…?”

“Huh? Really?” I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet but was rewarded with nothing but the sight of more heads.

“Why would she bring her fiancée to school?” Takada-san hissed beside me. “To show her off? To me?!”

“I highly doubt it…” I fought the urge to add, “Persecution complex, much?”

Without warning, the crowd erupted with excited screams.

“What’s going on?” I asked Takada-san. (It seemed more efficient than jumping.) “Tell me!”

Takada-san did not share the crowd’s enthusiasm. Her brow furrowed with the deliberation of a professional shogi player puzzling over her next move. “You’re missing little of value,” she said at length. “Oduka Mai merely kissed her fiancée’s hand—a little demonstration for the camera, I’m sure. A trifle of popular culture.”

“Oh.”

Who on Earth unabbreviated “pop culture”…?

The limo sped off, ferrying Miss Fiancée away, but the mob failed to disperse, leaving Mai stuck where she was. Takada-san worried her handkerchief with her teeth again.

“So…” I said. “Was the fiancée a girl?”

“She certainly looked like one. Same-sex marriage is legal in France, so I suppose two girls marrying must not be so rare as all that.” Then, more to herself than to me, Takada-san added, “Ah, I see. Perhaps some of the gawkers are into that sort of thing.”

“Huh,” I said. “Good for her.” Mai liking girls was no skin off my nose. She had her deal, I had mine. Y’know?

“Aha,” Takada-san said. She looked over at me and nodded; I think this was the first time she’d realized I was there. “You’ll do. As one of her closest friends, you must have your own opinions on the matter.”

“I do?”

“If your frown is any indication, yes. You seem most displeased.”

“I am?”

Takada-san beamed at me, radiating sympathy. “If you wish to stab that scheming Oduka Mai in the back, my dear, you’ll have my full cooperation. Class B will be happy to welcome you with open arms.”

“I’m not stabbing anyone!”

Incidentally, Mai’s herd of gawkers followed her all the way to class. I never got a chance to talk with her one-on-one.

I finally managed to corner Mai on the rooftop come lunchtime. She was dangling listlessly over the railing when I found her.

She didn’t meet my eye as I walked up. “Why hello, Renako… I’m afraid I’m a bit drained…”

I didn’t blame her. After a day like hers, I would’ve been tired too.

“You’re a trooper.” I patted her on the shoulder.

It should go without saying that Mai, being Mai, was still utterly flawless. Her version of “drained” involved no flyaway hairs or wrinkled clothing. Exhaustion did nothing to tone down her megawatt dazzle.

Being November, it was pretty chilly up here. But she and I needed to talk, and it wasn’t the kind of talk we could hold on a stairwell landing. So the roof it was.

“I do apologize,” Mai said. “I should have messaged you yesterday.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

Having a day to sleep on it had snapped me out of my immediate, reactionary mood. All things considered, it was good we hadn’t talked yesterday. I’d been too frazzled from my sister issue besides. And let’s be real—Mai sang her love for me from the rooftops any opportunity she got. I simply couldn’t picture her going behind my back and cheating. If there was one thing Mai had made clear, it was that she really, really liked me. There had to be more to this story than met the eye.

My head was so clear it rivaled crystal. I was perfectly capable of acting normal when I learned my girlfriend was engaged to someone else. I had no interest in romance. Yes. (Although I did see the appeal of gnashing on a hanky of my own. It could be fun in its own way to harangue Mai about this mystery fiancée—but I didn’t want to upset her.)

“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” Mai said.

“That would be appreciated.”

She hesitated. “This is my mother’s work.”

Ah. Called it.

“My mother has always hoped I would settle down and start a family once I am old enough. I understand she’s been searching for the appropriate suitor for quite some time. Rather an old-fashioned concept, I suppose… Do you recall the party I held to find a consort not a few months past?”

“Yes, I do.”

“After that little affair, my mother was more loath than ever to leave my romantic future in my hands. Thus, she chose a fiancée for me. I’m afraid I thought it was a passing whim of hers and paid little attention to it.”

Uh-huh.

“Unfortunately, it seems she went over my head and published the announcement on my behalf. Which brings us to this predicament. I’ll raise an objection, of course. I’ll demand they retract the statement.”

“I see. I have a clearer picture of the situation now.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I nodded, coolly. Cucumbers wished they were me.

I understood the situation perfectly. And I might’ve shared some of the blame—I was technically the reason Mai had hosted that stupid party in the first place. But still, her mom was way out of line. Moms had no right to announce their kids’ engagements for them. Mai was a victim; she hadn’t done anything wrong. Yes. I understood the problem inside and out. I was also, as has been established, the platonic ideal of calm.

“Might I ask you a question, Renako?” Mai said.

“By all means.”

Her smile looked painful. Poor Mai; she really was tired. “Why,” she asked, “are you being so formal with me?”

“I beg your pardon?” I said, much louder than intended. To my surprise, I realized she was right. I didn’t usually talk like this, and I hadn’t noticed the switch.

“It’s just that it feels like you’re putting up a wall between us,” she explained, slightly apologetic.

“Goodness, no! That wasn’t the intention at all.” There it was again. I sounded like I was writing a business email.

“Are you mad at me, by any chance?” Mai asked.

“Me? Mad?” I didn’t know what she meant. Not one bit. I was hyperultracalm. I sympathized with Mai to the umpteenth degree. The fault lay squarely in Mai’s mother’s court, as I knew perfectly well. “What have you done that I could be mad about?”

“Well…” Mai was sweating. In November? “I should imagine anyone would be upset to hear their girlfriend is engaged to marry someone else.”

“Anyone? Am I…an anyone?” Baffled, I pressed, “Why would I be upset?”

“Why? Well, I suppose… Anyone might feel slighted. Perhaps distrustful of their partner, or even…jealous…”

Aha—there it was. The jealousy thing!

“I don’t even know your fiancée,” I said. “Who is she? A friend of yours?”

“Of sorts… I’ve known her since childhood.”

My brain helpfully supplied an image of a girl with a cascade of black hair.

“Not Satsuki,” Mai added.

The girl clicked her tongue, and my brain helpfully whisked her away.

“I’ve mentioned that I grew up traveling between France and Japan, yes? She is a good friend from the French half of my childhood. A fellow model; I used to love her like family. She’s a delightful girl, you know. Very earnest; quite pretty. The kind of girl you can’t help but love.”

“You don’t say?”

Mai made an oh, shit face.

“Not in that sense!” she clarified. “I don’t harbor any romantic feelings for her. Not a one.”

“Evidently not.”

“Please look at me! Don’t put up further walls between us, Renako.”

“Look,” I said. “I get it. I’m as plain as plain can be. The dead center of the pack. Born and raised in Japan, never traveled overseas, only met you in high school. I couldn’t be earnest if I tried, and it’s taken everything I have in me to get my face looking halfway decent. I’m just a cookie-cutter model of a teenage girl. Ah ha.”

“And that’s what I like about you!” Mai grabbed my shoulders. “Renako, you’re the only one for me. I love you—”

My heart skipped a beat.

Her eyes were dead serious. I knew she hated it when I put myself down. I knew—and hated—self-deprecation as a tool to fish for compliments. Mai liked me. I knew that—she made it abundantly clear. I knew I needed to smile back at her and say, “Of course, Mai. I believe you.”

But I didn’t.

“R-Renako…?” she prompted.

Suddenly, everything seemed to get all watery. Was I…crying?

“I’m sorry,” Mai said. “I made you upset.”

“No, it wasn’t you. This… This is…”

I was spiraling. My brain kept throwing up images: Mai walking arm-in-arm with a stranger. Mai smiling at an unknown figure. Mai putting her hand on this other girl’s cheek. Mai kissing a girl who wasn’t me.

Gosh, was I really tearing up over something that hadn’t happened? What a basket case! I was still scrambled from the Nashiji Komachi revelation yesterday. Scrambled to goopy goop, that was me!

“Mai…” I began.

“Yes, Renako?”

My voice came out in a tiny little whimper. “Are you…breaking up with me?”

“No! Never! I would never! Please believe me, I wouldn’t—” For once in her life, Mai was a stammering, stumbling motormouth. “There is only one girl I will ever marry, and her name is Amaori Renako! No one else could ever, ever make me happy the way you do. Please, believe me, Renako!”

I didn’t respond right away. I had never seen Mai so flustered, but for some God-awful reason, I couldn’t shake these terrible thoughts. Because I cared about her. A lot. It’s not that I didn’t trust her—I was terrified of losing her. I cared so much it left me an unsettled wreck.

“But you’ve never mentioned this girl before…” I said.

“I wasn’t trying to hide her! It wasn’t out of a guilty conscience either. I just, well—I just didn’t ever see the point. I thought you wouldn’t be interested in some random friend from my childhood—”

“Who’s very earnest, quite pretty, and the kind of girl you can’t help but fall in love with?”

“I apologize. It wasn’t proper of me to speak so highly of another girl in your presence. I’ll do better next time. I’m sorry.” Mai’s pleading eyes met my teary ones. “Renako…?”

“You’re breaking up with me,” I said. “You never planned on marrying me, did you? Was this all just a game? Did you plan to toy with my heart and cast me away when you were done with me?”

“N-no, I would never! Renako, I would never do anything so dishonest to you. My heart belongs to you and only you!”

Wugh. My own heart, which was cracking in two, felt Mai’s words like a set of bandages patching it back together.

“Then tell me,” I said. “Who do you like better? Me or her?”

“You, of course!”

“Do you really mean it? Tell me how much you like me.”

“More than anyone else in the whole wide world.”

And she meant it too. My heart sang. God, I…I wanted this. I wanted to hear Mai go on. “And do you mean that too? Really really? Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die. Please be with me forever, Renako. To me, you mean everything.”

“Pinkie promise? I won’t date a liar, liar pants on fire.”

“I solemnly swear, I will cherish you until death do us part—”

Something hit me on the back of the head and knocked me over. Ow! I whirled around to see who accosted me, rubbing the back of my thumped noggin.

“Could you not make googly eyes at each other all day?” the accoster sniffed. “I’ll end you both where you stand.”

It was Satsuki-san. “Had this gone on much longer,” she added, “someone might have come along and pitched you both off the roof. Dangerous place to stand, this.”

“I think you’re the one in danger—of losin’ your marbles!” chimed in a second voice. Behind her appeared a third, giggling girl.

Of all the rubberneckers to be spying behind the rooftop door, it had to be the three of them: Koto Satsuki, Koyanagi Kaho, and Sena Ajisai. Together, us five made up Class 1-A’s Quintet. It was common knowledge among this friend group that Mai and I were dating.

“What are you doing here?” Mai asked, addressing Satsuki-san.

Koto Satsuki-san was the Japanese half of the Mai childhood friend equation and drop-dead gorgeous in her own raven-haired way. She’d taught me lots of important lessons—namely, that a good face does not equate a good personality. Truly, a sensational human being.

She let her hair run over the back of her hand. “We came to eavesdrop. We thought it might be fun should the drama turn juicy.”

A staggering display of entitlement, but I couldn’t find fault in it—she was so upfront about it. It was a classic Satsuki-san-ism, and we had no choice but to stan.

“That’s Saa-chan’s way of saying she was worried ’bout you,” Kaho-chan translated with a grin of her own. “And we tagged along!”

Koyanagi Kaho-chan possessed the innate cuteness of a wild animal, including the characteristic charming fang that poked out at times. She had no qualms about teasing either Mai or Satsuki-san. Truly, a sensational human being.

“I most certainly was not,” said Satsuki-san. “Kindly keep your baseless interpretations to yourself.”

“So sorry. Whatever ya say.”

Kaho-chan never let anything get to her—not even Satsuki-san’s attempts at intimidation. She and Satsuki-san maintained a comfortable, first-name-basis friendship.

“That said, it wasn’t nice of us to eavesdrop,” Ajisai-san said. She bowed, like she was the representative for all three of them. “I’m sorry.”

Sena Ajisai-san, aka the angel of Ashigaya High, was the shining example of how good looks and good personality could go hand in hand after all. Well…okay. Mai and Kaho-chan were good examples of that too. Truly, a sensational human being. (And honestly, if any of those three had a right to listen in on us, it was her…)

“Likewise, Ajisai.” Mai bowed back. “I apologize.”

Ajisai-san waved the apology away. “Oh, no need! Sure, I was a little startled by the news… But I figured there was a long story behind it.”

“Nevertheless, I should’ve done more to stop it. I might’ve spared you the emotional havoc.”

“Well…maybe so.” Ajisai-san smiled. “But no one’s perfect, Mai-chan. Things happen that we don’t expect, and there’s nothing we can do about it. You should try living with two little brothers. It feels like every other day I’m asking them what on Earth have they done.”

Mai smiled back, rather bashfully.

“That’s why it’s important we talk to each other,” Ajisai-san went on. “We can find out what happened and figure out what to do next.”

“…You’re right. Thank you.”

Ajisai-san giggled. “Any time.”

Good vibes radiated from their shared smiles. Flowers burst into bloom at the edge of my vision. Huh? Where were those flowers when I confronted Mai…?

“Just look at her,” Satsuki-san whispered to me. She sounded oddly proud, like Ajisai-san was her girlfriend. “Sena is something else.”

I wished I could’ve had flowers… In all fairness, though—Ajisai-san was loads more confident and self-respecting than me. If my mental health was a house of straw, Ajisai-san’s was a citadel of reinforced concrete. A little fiancée fiasco wouldn’t faze her.

Don’t stress over it, I reminded myself. Nobody’s perfect. Ajisai-san was so reassuring she reassured me.

Ajisai-san, Mai, and I had a special relationship. Mai and I were dating, and Mai and Ajisai-san were dating, and I was dating Ajisai-san on top of that. TL;DR: We were a throuple. Literally the only reason this unbalanced mess of a relationship worked was because Ajisai-san was the best balancer in the universe. Thanks to her, we were still going strong one month in. We hadn’t had any major drama. It was smooth sailing for the SS AjiRenaMai, and our first shoals were this fiancée debacle.

Satsuki-san folded her arms. “I must say, Obasama has resorted to quite the forceful approach here.”

“She has,” Mai agreed. “Have you talked to her since all this started?”

Her being the fiancée. Not Mai’s mom.

“…No.” Satsuki-san shook her head.

“Hm?” I said. “Satsuki-san, you know Mai’s fiancée?”

“Yes,” Mai explained. “Satsuki was a model when she was small too.”

That I knew. Hanatori-san, Mai×Satsu shipper extraordinaire, had shown me the video evidence.

“Whenever we took trips to France, the three of us would play together,” Mai added.

“Let me make a correction,” Satsuki-san interjected, annoyed that she had to set the record straight. “I was never a model. I simply went with you to the studio and let them take pictures of me. And I only went to France because you begged me.”

“I did, and you were kind enough to agree. That was very sweet of you, Satsuki.”

Satsuki-san clicked her tongue in the face of Mai’s beaming grin. I liked to imagine Satsuki-san was cursed to scoff at every nice thing said about her, the poor thing. Being a bit of a basket case myself, I understood the struggle. I, too, hated to accept compliments.

“I pray someday your curse will be lifted and you’ll be the nice, honest person you were always meant to be,” I told her.

She planted her hand on my face and pushed.

Ow?! Hello? That hurt! Girl-on-girl face-grabbing incident!

“I think she’d love to see you,” Mai went on, as if Satsuki-san didn’t have a firm hold of my cheeks. “It’d be just like old times.”

“I haven’t seen her since we were children,” Satsuki-san said, letting go of me (was I that forgettable? Was Satsuki-san performing her best Facehugger impression so ordinary no one paid any attention?) and turning back to Mai with a shrug. “To be frank, I’d forgotten she existed.”

No one moved to stop her. Not even Ajisai-san! She just gave me the They seem to be very good friends face. Which we weren’t! We were a victim (me) and assailant (Satsuki-san). I’d take this up to the Supreme Court if I had to!

Kaho-chan poked me in my seething back. “Bee tee dubs,” she said, “what happened with you ’n Serara?”

“Huh?!” My heart almost leaped out of my throat. This was a far more delicate topic than Mai’s fiancée. I struggled to hide my rising panic. “N-nothing. Nothing happened.”

Not me and my instinctive lying… But it was justified lying!

Kaho-chan seemed to buy it. “Huh,” she said. “That’s kinda weird. She said something about wanting to get ahold of you?”

“H-huh. That’s weird. W-wonder what that could be about. Ah ha.”

Oh God.

If I told Kaho-chan I’d ditched Minato in the park, then I’d have to explain my time as a teenage truant—and that at my core, I was a socially awkward loser. It’s not that I didn’t have faith in my friends, but this topic was too personal for comfort. I didn’t think it would be a comfortable listening experience either—or at least that was my excuse. Really, I just wanted to cling to my last few scraps of pride.

Ditching Minato-san was a bad move on my part. I was 400 percent the guilty party. Yup.

God, what if Seira-san had been trying to get ahold of me?

I checked my phone and—999 messages?! Jesus Christ! All from Seira-san? Christ on a bike! Worse, my priv inbox was blowing up with messages from Seira-san’s main and subaccounts. This girl was sending me messages through every possible avenue. Christ on a Harley-Davidson…

What was I supposed to do? Anything? It wasn’t like Seira-san’s message spam changed the equation. I couldn’t tell her why I ran away from Minato-san without the whole thing coming out. Complicating the situation any further was the last thing I needed, and it wasn’t like I had the confidence to lie my way out of this. Sorry, Seira-san. I’m just gonna ghost you. Let’s talk later? When my mental health isn’t in a nosedive?

Too late, I realized all eyes were on me. Eep.

I relaxed the death grip on my phone and babbled, “Um, anyway.” God, there were so many eyes on me. “Mai! I hope this all blows over for you soon.”

A platitude at best. Meaningless claptrap.

But Mai said, “I hope so too. I’m afraid I must ask for your patience, but…have faith in me, the both of you.”

Mai could handle the fiancée business. I had enough other issues on my plate. Besides, I had rock-solid confidence in Mai. Not me. Yeah, not me at all.

It was on the way home that I learned—my petty, avoidant behavior was fooling no one.

***

Later, I apologized to Mai for making her deal with my mood swings. She demurred, insisting it was all her fault. God, she was so, so kind. (And I was utter trash.)

If only there was something I could do to help her.

Ideally, something short of leaping to my feet and announcing, “Listen up, people! I’ve been Mai’s true fiancée all along!” No one would have believed me. Well, maybe Ajisai-san—but I sure wouldn’t.

My feet were made of lead all the way home. I trudged my way onto the train, plodded across the platform when it got to my stop, and slogged the final walk to my front door. It was here, right when I least expected it, that someone came out of nowhere and kabedon’d me. Hello?!

Trapped between the concrete wall and the arms of my mystery kabedon’r, I had nowhere to run. My captor—a girl—leered down at me and drawled…

“Give me the runaround, why don’tcha, Oneesan-senpai?”

“S-S-Seira-san?” I stuttered.

“That’s me! Whatcha trippin’ over your words for? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I did not see a ghost. I did, however, see a girl with bangs in her eyes that made her look pretty darn spooky.

I shuddered against the concrete. “Wh-what a coincidence to run into you here…”

“Coincidence, my butt. I was waiting for you!”

Well, no shit, Sherlock.

Rage burned in her eyes. “Whatever happened to trusting Haruna, huh?” she said. “Whatever happened to all that self-important BS you told me? Why’d you ditch Minato and run?! What was that all about?”

“That was. Um. It’s really complicated, okay?”

I tried to sidle out of the kabedon, but Seira-san slammed her foot down and blocked my path. Eep.

“Where do you think you’re going? Look, Oneesan-senpai. I kinda took to heart all those cool things you said. You don’t get to take them back now.”

“Me, cool? Heh heh…”

“You are not allowed to pat yourself on the back. Dumb jerk.”

“Urgh. Sorry…”

I was just trying to lighten the mood… I guess my joke only added fuel to the flames. Shout-out to me and my nonexistent conversational skills.

Seira-san stepped back and eyed at me coolly. “Fine. I don’t care.”

“Oh, good!”

“I meant, I don’t care because you and I have other things to cover. Got that? Do we gotta send you back to preschool Japanese class?”

This is where I might’ve grinned and gone, “Oh, you silly billy! Preschool doesn’t have Japanese classes!” Fortunately, I had the good sense not to. So instead, I said “Eep” and tried to shrink into my uniform.

“Here. Let’s give you a second chance, Oneesan-senpai.”

“A second chance at what?”

With no warning at all, Seira-san sidestepped—to reveal an apathetic black-haired girl standing right behind her. It was Minato-san. The one and only Nashiji Minato-san.

I screamed to high heaven. If I was scared before, that was nothing compared to now. “What… What… What’s she doing here?” I demanded.

Minato-san frowned and turned to look at Seira-san. “Did I do something to her?”

“Dunno.” Seira-san shrugged.

Minato-san sighed and looked back at me. “Look, Amaori-san. I hear you have questions for me.”

“Um. I guess I do.” I avoided meeting her gaze like I was allergic to eye contact.

“And I want to know why you ran away from me.” Minato-san’s voice had a casual quality the conversation didn’t deserve. “What did my sister do to you?”

“She…”

I admit that I asked Minato-san the name of her older sister. And I admit that I sprinted away the moment I heard her answer. It was not shocking that Minato-san had questions for me.

But God, did my fingers go numb. It would’ve been so, so easy to tell the truth and get the crummy feeling off my chest. All I had to do was confess: Your sister used to bully me.

But I didn’t want to say that, because it wasn’t the truth. It was all just a lie. I was no loser. I was peppy and popular. I had turned over a new leaf in high school.

If I spoke the un-truth, if I acknowledged my pitiful past, everything I had built up would come crashing down. Everything I had worked for. Everything I had won. Everything, everything, everything. Gone.

I just couldn’t say it. There was no way.

Something like a whimper came out of me, and next thing I knew, my legs buckled.

“Hey, you good?” asked Minato-san.

“Oneesan-senpai?”

And then I just broke down sobbing.

So. Here we were.

After I turned myself into a literal crying shame, Seira-san and Minato-san had no idea what to do with me. They ended up leaving and said they’d come back another time to talk. I wasn’t off the hook yet.

I opened the front door and oozed inside. I peeled off my shoes with the speed of a slug and called out, “Hey, I’m home” into the house.

Maybe this was punishment—divine retribution for playacting the helpful older sister, when I had no talents, no knowledge, and no follow-through whatsoever. It was what I got for poking my nose into places it didn’t belong. Punched out of left field. Downed.

And now there was nowhere left for me to run. I was, really and truly, a shell of the confident creature I’d been before.

“Oneechan?” My sis appeared at the top of the stairs and clattered down to me.

I flinched. I hurried to slap a smile on my face. “Yeah?”

My sister looked—bizarrely—angry. Angry?

“What were you guys talking about?” she demanded.

“Who guys?”

“I heard you talking. You, Minato, and Seira. They showed up here, didn’t they?”

“Oh.” I blanched. Like, legit blanched.

There was nowhere to run. Nowhere. But I still looked away. I still tried to run. “We didn’t…talk about anything in particular.”

I felt like I was trapped in a tiny cage. I felt pathetic. Smaller than small.

And my sister, she…she didn’t say anything. She just stood there across from me. She stood there for a long, long time before she finally seemed to lose interest. “Okay,” she said.

And she left.

My heartbeat roared in my ears. I stood rooted to the spot, right where Haruna had left me, for a couple minutes longer. Why? Why were there tears pricking my eyelids again? It took everything I had to keep them from spilling over.

Up until yesterday, I had been a whirlwind of activity, set upon my noble goal of saving my sister from her mental health crisis. Now yesterday felt like an eternity ago. Now my only concern was saving myself. All I wanted was to wipe everyone off the map who ever knew about my sordid past.

Yet the next morning, when I was washing my stupid ugly face in the bathroom, my sister walked in and took her place at the sink beside me like nothing ever happened.

“Heya,” she said.

“Hm? Uh, hi. You’re up early today.” You’ll have to excuse my shock. You see, my sister was wearing her school uniform. “Wait. What?”

I blinked. A couple of times, actually.

“Gimme that,” my sister said and, not waiting for an answer, lifted the hair dryer from my unprotesting hands. Just like that, she started fixing her hair. She wrapped up in about two seconds flat and passed the hair dryer back before turning and sauntering out of the bathroom.

Behind her, I cried, “Hey, wait!”

“Hmm?” She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes asked, “You need something?”

For a moment, I was speechless. Then I found my words and said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

My sister shot back, like this was the most self-evident thing in the world, “Uh, I’m getting ready for school?” And then she was gone.

I stood stock-still, comb in one hand and hair dryer in the other. And then I yelled one long, long, “Huh???”

What, and I cannot stress this enough, the frick.

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 2

“CHECK THIS OUT. That’s right. I have a—” Cue the giddy chuckle. “—text from a friend.”

Cue the irritating smirk.

Haruna’s older sister—one Amaori Renako—was on top of the world. Which is to say, she was freaking obnoxious.

Renako was (supposedly) enjoying her high school experience. Every time Haruna was in her own room—doing homework, watching videos on her phone, straight chilling, whatever—Renako would sail in to regale her with tales of school.

Which, like, good for her. It was just so exhausting.

Renako talked in circles like a perpetual-motion fidget spinner. She went on and on and on at the slightest provocation, even Haruna’s “Uh-huhs” and “Mm-hmms.”

Take this afternoon, for instance. “So get this. This girl—her name’s Sena-san, right—she sits in the seat in front of me in class, right, and she’s the cutest ever! And she’s beyond sweet. I can barely believe we’re the same species! I think she was sent down from heaven to grace the rest of us. Gosh, maybe she isn’t human after all.”

And Renako meant it. You could tell from the serious look on her face.

Haruna was worried. Surely Renako didn’t yammer on like this in class… She certainly hoped not, but she didn’t have much faith. Renako was an incurable blabbermouth at home. Why would going outside shut her up?

“And like, get this too. My friend group is made up of the. Most. Awesome. People. Ever. I’m talking, like, the president. The queen! The prime minister! The emperor! I’m completely starstruck. These girls are dazzling. Like, literally. Our entire corner of the classroom shines like a strobe light. God, if I can just stay in their good graces, I’ll never be a loner again. Heh heh heh!”

Mm-hmm.

Well, good for her. Making friends was important. A girl had to have her place in the school’s pecking order. And these friends of Renako’s sounded nice. Really nice, if they hung out with a basket case like Renako…

“Wait, no.” (Speaking of the basket case.) “I have it backward. If they ditch me, I’ll be back in loner land. Maybe I need to butter them up harder. Ooh! Next time they make a joke, I’ll really ham it up. Clapping! Hysterical laughter! The works!”

“Curb the mood swings, Oneechan.”

The happy-go-lucky babbler now held her head in her stricken hands. She faced the mirror and mimed unaffected laughter. “Wow… Ha ha… You’re sooo funny…” Buttering practice had begun.

Haruna shot her sister a disapproving look. Renako was really putting her whole ass into this, huh…

Haruna hadn’t been this insufferable when she’d started junior year the year before. But then again, she went to the local junior high. Half the kids were people she’d known since elementary school. Her sister, meanwhile, tested into a school where she knew absolutely no one. It was a pretty competitive school too. Any more academically inclined, and Renako wouldn’t have made it in.

Haruna shuddered to think what might’ve happened if Renako hadn’t passed the entrance exams. Knowing her sister, Renako probably didn’t have a backup plan. She lived on the edge—to her own detriment, at times. She was the kind of girl who kept playing on her phone with her battery at 1 percent.

But to her credit, she’d made it this far. She may have been hanging on by a thread, but Haruna had to give her props nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t stress about it,” Haruna said. “It sounds like things are working out for you so far. Right?”

Renako froze. (Haruna knew what was running through her mind: furious calculations as to whether her performance warranted an answer in the affirmative.)

She looked up at Haruna and, in a voice confidence had never known, said, “Yeah. I think.”

“Then what’s there to mope about? Sounds like your glow-up’s a success.”

“I guess so. At least for the moment.”

“You gotta believe in yourself, Oneechan. Stop thinking about the old you.”

“Blugh.” Renako clutched her head like she was fighting off a headache. “I’ve…I’ve shaped up. I’m a normal girl now. Right?”

“Totally. You actually look like a person now. Keep it up, and people’ll start asking you for directions to the train station.”

“The mark of a true member of society! Oh God—I don’t want to talk to strangers.” She screamed, then switched gears on a dime and cackled with self-satisfied glee. It was frankly unsettling.

Never mind, Haruna thought. No one’s asking her for directions—not if she acts like this in public.

Meanwhile, Renako was still talking to herself. “I’ll keep it up. I’ll be a completely average girl. I’ll have an amazing time in high school. Heh heh!” Then she laughed—her real laugh. Not the fake laugh she affected to convince the world she was all smiles inside. “Thanks, Haruna,” she said. “I’ll keep up the hard work!”

Haruna crossed her arms and snorted. “See? Told ya.”

Both the Amaori sisters had an unfortunate habit of letting compliments go to their heads. But could Haruna be blamed? Anyone would relish winning the respect of their older sister. And Haruna had done good work plotting and executing Operation: Make Renako Popular.

She wagged a smug finger in Renako’s face. “It’s time you learned,” she proclaimed, “I’m always right.”

Chapter 6:
Recover from This Setback? No Freaking Way!

MY SISTER WAS GOING to school again—so that was a thing. I half considered tailing her, but before I could make up my mind, she’d already zipped out the door. I was shocked. After all the insisting she wouldn’t go? It was good she was going back to school—don’t get me wrong. It just made no sense. Maybe my sister had been abducted by aliens. Maybe this was her alien replacement. Kind of a macabre idea, but how else could I rationalize her behavior?

Or maybe, just maybe, mental health problems weren’t always as dramatic as I made them out to be. Maybe they just resolved of their own accord. Like with the changing weather. Or like a hormonal balance thing.

But that didn’t track with my own experiences with mental breakdowns. What broke me out of my truancy phase was seeing my old friends on social media. My family probably wondered what had caused my sudden transformation too. Who was this morning person with a go-getter attitude, and what had she done with Renako? It’d probably seemed like something out of a horror movie. Thinking along those lines, maybe Haruna’s rapid transformation wasn’t so far-fetched after all.

I was so distracted and fidgety that I took forever getting home later. I walked in just about the same time as Haruna got back from sports practice. Bumping into her at the front door was eerie. She acted like her extended absence had never happened.

I tried to put myself in her shoes. If my sister had made a big fuss about me going back to school (“Wow, look at you! Going to school!” or “Whoa?! What brought you out of your cave?”), I would’ve felt like crap. Better to leave Haruna alone.

Never did I ever imagine my sister would demonstrate my own bad behaviors to me. God, I really must’ve worried my family. They didn’t deserve a kid like me, but at least they could breathe a sigh of relief now that their other daughter had stopped playing hooky. Everything was back to normal, and all’s well that ended well. And we all lived happily ever after! Yup. It was probably for the best if I didn’t push the issue.

So I pushed the issue. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

My sister didn’t look up from her phone and sunk deeper into the couch cushions. “Yeah?”

Um.

The tension was so thick I could’ve cut it with a knife—even though I knew I was the one making it awkward. My sister didn’t care what I felt. She didn’t care about me in general.

Which raised the question: Was I doing the right thing? Would it be helpful to do anything? Say anything?

No. Probably not. Definitely not.

“Never mind,” I said.

“Mmkay.”

So this was it. I didn’t know what started this truancy phase. Nor what ended it.

But I still felt thrown off balance as I was pushed back into the box of our former “normal” life.

***

I may not have known what was going on with my sis, but I did know I needed to tell the Quintet the news. So I did.

My friends were all overjoyed—or I assumed they were. Maybe they were just faking enthusiasm since I seemed satisfied with this turn of events. Maybe they just wanted to lift my spirits.

Oh, stop that! Nothing in life is certain. And once I started questioning things, I’d never stop. What if everything was fake? What if I was the only living thing left on Earth? What if everything around me was made of paper mâché?! What if the world was only made five minutes ago?!!!

My only recourse was to ask Mai. She had talked with my sister the other day. She was the key to everything—I hoped.

“Haruna said she’d go back to school in two months, but it’s only been two weeks and some change,” I said to Mai at the earliest opportunity. (The fiancée fever had yet to die down, so it took some work to find a spare moment with her.) “That’s kinda weird, isn’t it? Do you know anything, Mai?”

“Forgive me,” she said. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Bluh. Okay.”

Mai frowned, feeling a bit conflicted. “I suppose…Haruna-kun’s priorities may have shifted.”

“What priorities?” I asked.

“That is, perhaps she is no longer in a position where she can stay home from school… Oh, don’t read too much into it. I’m merely spitballing. All I’ll say is this: Give her a bit of space. I’m sure she’ll open up to you in time.”

Mai was right, of course. (At the very least, I had no reason to resist her kindly advice.) So I just said, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Eventually, I stopped overthinking it. If Mai didn’t know what was going on, then I sure as heck would never figure it out.

The weather got colder as the days dragged on, and soon I had bigger things to worry about. It was finals season at Ashigaya High.

***

You know that phrase, it never rains but it pours? Yeah. So in other news, I bombed my finals.

I’m sorry, Satsuki-san… After you tutored me and everything…

Once our last test was turned in, I slumped over my desk. I had no energy left in me. I just groaned.

“You don’t look so hot, Rena-chan,” Ajisai-san said as she played with my hair.

“I don’t feel so hot,” I said back.

God, what had happened to me? I’d been going strong since April. Maybe my true colors had finally shone themselves. What goes up must come down. My stats were at the whim of RNGesus.

“Do you wanna go somewhere and do something?” I asked her.

“Hm…I wish.”

I looked up and wound one long, pretty strand of her hair around my finger before leaning in for a—JK, we couldn’t do that in class. I just grabbed her sleeve.

“Are you going somewhere, Ajisai-san?”

“Kinda…” She responded with a troubled smile. Oh hell. I was weak for that one. “Sorry. I have some chores to get to. My brothers took over for me while we were in finals season, y’see.”

“I getcha. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can make it up another time. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See ya.”

I smiled at her lifelessly and waved her off. Even the way she walked away was ladylike. She was just as cute from behind as she was from the front.

Welp. Guess I had nothing to do but pack up and go home. No, no, no. Only one person turned me down. I couldn’t give up so easily. I had plenty of other friends! I may not have had any energy, but I could always beg for some from someone else. Time to drum up the courage and ask someone else to hang out, for once in my life!

But I knew I wouldn’t be successful. No one was free today.

“Mai’s got work. Satsuki-san’s got her job. Kaho-chan has her…whatever Kaho-chan does. I’m the only person in the whole, wide world with time on my hands.”

My backpack felt heavier than ever as I hoisted it onto my back and plodded down the hall.

For the most part, I was one of those folks who didn’t mind being alone. I could do most anything by myself. After braving the shopping mall and the beauty parlor, there was no mountain too high to climb! On any other day after finals, I would’ve been ecstatic about being let out of class early. I would’ve skipped all the way home. Woo-hoo! More game time for me!

But today I just felt kinda…alone. Like there was a big hole in my chest. What was that all about? Whenever I heard other kids laughing or hollering, my heart twinged in my chest.

Oh, the pain… The horror of being all alone in the world…with no one to love me…

“Hey, wait a sec...”

I recognized the person walking in front of me. She usually reached out to me, but today I could take that first step and say hi to her first. Yes! If I traded words with another human being, I could prove my self-worth! C’mon, courage. I know I have you in me somewhere!

Dredging up every bit of willpower inside me, I called out, “Hey, Youko-chan. You heading home?”

Youko-chan flinched and spun around. She was so twitchy, I almost thought she was being stalked.

“Y-you good?” I said.

Youko-chan’s entire face shifted like a traffic light changing color. “Oh, it’s Renako-kun! You on your way home too?”

“Yeah.”

I was a bit taken aback by her turning the question on me. This girl—Teruzawa Youko-chan—was one of the cute, bubbly, perpetually sunny girls in my grade. She also had a sly side to her. And something wasn’t right about her today.

“Hm? Am I not on the right mode?” she said. “Lessee… Gosh, those tests sure were tough. Especially math! The math final was killer.”

“R-right. It sure was.”

Should I, like…bring it up? “Hey, you good? You’re kinda wigging out.” Like that?

Youko-chan sort of marched to the beat of her own drum, if you get my drift. She wasn’t usually on edge. Thing was, I had a bad feeling telling her “Boy, you seem upset!” would only make things worse.

Oh! I knew what to do. Whenever I ditzed out (which was often), I appreciated when people pretended like they didn’t notice. Yes! Look at me, using my lived experience to navigate problems! That’s called learning from data, that is.

“Sorry, I’m kinda out of it today.” Youko-chan giggled apologetically. “Just distracted by something else.”

Oh no! She was acknowledging the problem! I didn’t have any data for this. What was I supposed to do now?

“Uh,” I tried. “What’s the matter? Did you bomb a test?”

“Mmm… I mean, that’s part of it…” Youko-chan smiled, embarrassed.

Ugh! I’d been on the receiving end of this treatment plenty of times. Why was I struggling with the giving half of the equation? I didn’t know how girls worked. Let me choose from a set of three dialogue options—that was more my speed.

I gave up. Next topic! Stat!

“What’s that you’ve got there?” I asked, pointing to a note in her hand. It was the perfect conversation starter—but she just stiffened. (???)

“This? Um. It’s. Oh, did you know I got a pet the other day? I need to go buy more pet food! This is my shopping list.”

“Oh, uh—a pet? And pet food? And a shopping list?”

Ohh boy. Topics. Topics galore. A veritable gold mine of topics to launch off from.

“What kind of pet is it?” I ventured.

“Huh?” she said.

Don’t “huh” me?! What, was I not supposed to ask? But that was a perfectly reasonable question. That’s where the conversation was going. Right?! I began to panic. Renako, you idiot! Data doesn’t mean jack.

Youko-chan couldn’t meet my eyes either. “It’s, um. White. And big. And. Um. Really selfish!”

What was this, a riddle? “Is it…a Persian cat or something?”

“Yeah, close to that! Sorry, but I gotta run. So much shopping, so little time!”

And just like that, she shut down the conversation in 0.2 seconds flat.

“Oh. Um. Good luck…?” I said, but by the time the words were out of my mouth, she’d already zoomed away…

…Or not. Because before she vanished from sight, she made a U-turn and thudded back up to me. “Let’s hang out another time!” she panted. “Please! We’ve gotta!”

“We do? Um, okay…?” I nodded. I felt too pressured not to.

Now Youko-chan left for real, but this time she just sauntered off, like her work here was done. What in the world…? Youko-chan’s abrupt shift in attitude alarmed me. I just stood there, blank-faced, for a good minute.

Maybe, just maybe, social interactions didn’t actually hinge on data.

I got it, though—having a pet was being responsible for the life of a living thing. Maybe it was the added weight of responsibility that made Youko-chan go a little loopy. The adjustment phase could be tough with any new pet. I’d thought about owning a pet myself someday—a cat, a dog, maybe a koala—but I knew I wasn’t cut out for it. Pets meant no more sleeping in, and that level of responsibility wasn’t for me. Maintaining another life? Nuh-uh. Scary.

When I got home, I found a piece of mail addressed to me on the living room table.

“What’s this about?” I said to nobody in particular. There was never mail for me, apart from salon ads and the usual crud.

I gulped. I took a quick look to make sure no one was watching, then flipped the envelope to check the return address and—

“Ugh!” I exclaimed.

It was an invitation to a class reunion. My junior high class reunion. Instant goosebumps.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me to that.”

What were they thinking, sending me an invitation? Like I was sure they sent one to everyone—but I’d barely attended junior high. They should have known better and spared me the trouble! I swear, some people are so rude…

I felt like a cosmic joke. I could feel the darkness pooling in my eyes already.

“What’s their problem? We graduated less than a year ago. If they want to hold a stinking, stupid class reunion, they should invite their friends and be done with it. There’s no need to drag the rest of us into it. Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Leaving out the loser? So do it. Here’s your free pass to leave me out. I hate it when people try to look out for me muh muh muh. It’s way more trouble than when they just ignore me. I’m busy enjoying high school. I don’t want to dredge up bad memories now. Who’s even organizing this thing? I barely know them. I’m sure they’re all nice folks, but like…they clearly believe we’ll all come running when they call. And I’m not about that life. No one loves me. No one cares for me. I was born alone, and I’ll die alone.”

Just then, I realized that I was dribbling content roughly the worth of industrial sludge and snapped out of it. “Huh? What was all that?”

I put a hand to my chest. Yup, I could still feel my heartbeat. That was a close one. My soul had shifted back to junior high mode!

“No, no, no. We are not doing that, me.”

Invitation in hand, I stormed into my room, fell to my knees, and laced my hands together like I was pleading with God.

“I do not mean a word of what I just said. It is an honor to be invited! Just having the choice to go is incredible. I’m very, very grateful they were thoughtful enough to invite me. Thanks, organizers! You’re all real ones! So nice of you to invite the losers and lame-os like me. Really cool of you!”

To wash away the darkness inside me, I cranked the verbal spigot and put the word shower on full blast.

“And besides! Me, dreading the notion of a class reunion? Nooo. No way. Tee hee hee! I’m not the same girl I was in junior high. Out with the loserhood. In with the people skills! I’m such the picture of positivity. I can take all the hits and keep on trucking. I’m literally so optimist-pilled. Peoplemaxxed. Proof: I have not one, but two girlfriends. Go me! I have the p-e-r-f-e-c-t-e-s-t life ever. The life I’ve always dreamed of! Class 1-A Quintet member Renako, that’s me!”

I grabbed my mirror with both hands and beamed at Ms. Peoplemaxxer in the reflection.

“You hear that, Amaori Renako? You literally turned your whole life when you started high school. What a queen. We stan! Fr fr! You look sooo cute; everyone would fall in love with you at first sight. Just look at the way your classmates are all over you! Aww, who, me? Gurl, you’re so sweet. Thanks, babe!”

Just kill me.

The void in my chest yawned wider. A gust of wind howled through, whisking my brain away with it.

More. I needed more. More glitz and glamour. More oomph to cover this hole in my heart.

I stripped off my uniform and threw on the autumn clothes (it was almost winter, but whatever) I’d bought on a recent shopping trip with my sis. There. Now my mind was in a better place, and it was time to hit up the town! Making my way downtown, walking fast—like they say in the songs! Ooh, and what if I put on makeup? If I wanted to change the feelings on the inside, I had to change the outside first.

Yass, binches, let’s roll. Where were the binches rolling to? I dunno, but we were rolling anyway! An evil spirit haunted this house—the ghost of Renakos Past—and she refused to pass on!

Dolling up: complete. Beautiful girl: pres… Take two. Beautiful girl: prese… No. Beautiful girl: p… Me: present.

I jammed my omnipresent earbuds into my ears. Presto chango, and then there was music. I put on my favorite dance number, and then I was off into the big, beautiful world! With a hop, skip, and a jump! Yippee!

Long story short, I wound up at the supermarket ’cause I had nowhere else to go. I wandered over to the instant ramen shelf and checked out their new selection. My go-to brand is on sale? Word.

And then it crossed my mind: What the hell was I doing with myself?

That’s the problem with introverts. They do the weirdest things when left to their own devices. Except, wait—I wasn’t an introvert.

Oh, it was no good. I was totally sapped. I should just go home. Go home, take off my makeup, sink my teeth into a good video game. It was the healthy thing to do. Good for my mental health too. What was I thinking, going out without a set purpose? What was I, an extrovert? Where was the fun in prancing from store to store just to see what they had? Who got a kick out of looking around and not buying anything? Little-boy-pressing-his-nose-to-the-shop-window-and-going-“But-Mummy,-I-want-that-trumpet!”-ass behavior.

Ugh! Stop it, me! Stop being salty.

I was reverting to my junior high self more with every passing day, and it had all started when I heard the name Nashiji Komachi. I hated this. I wanted my old life back. Was this a curse? Was I doomed to be like this forever? Would I spend the rest of my life as Amaori Renako?!

God. I needed a name change.

A helpful little voice in the back of my head suggested, “What about Oduka Renako?” followed by another, equally helpful voice that supplied, “I think Sena Renako is a very nice name.” Just what I needed. More characters in the Brainy Bunch. At least it beat being alone. Maybe their ideas weren’t so bad after all. Tee hee. Gosh, look at me. Tee hee. Not such a miserable loner now, eh?

The tee-heeing ceased when a voice horribly close to me said, “…Uh, Renako-kun? What are you doing?”

Who, meee? Tee hee hee. Tee to the hee. You see, babes, I…don’t know! Your guess is as good as mine. Aren’t people so mysterious? Don’t we just do the strangest things? That’s what makes us so special. Live, laugh, love!

Oh, wait. No, I wasn’t hallucinating this time.

“Y-Youko-chan?!” I spluttered.

Right there, in front of me, was Youko-chan. The girl I had parted ways with earlier that same afternoon. And hey, you know what that meant? I wasn’t alone anymore! Woo-hoo!

She paled in horror. (Huh?) “Oops! I didn’t mean to speak up. I just couldn’t help myself. You were making the weirdest face.”

“I was not!” I protested.

“No, Renako-kun… You really were…” She said it the way a police officer trying to get a suspect to confess would. Well, I wasn’t confessing to nothin’. “Here,” she added. “I have photographic evidence.”

“Hello?!”

She pulled out her phone to show me, and I covered my eyes. If I didn’t see it, it didn’t happen! The world was nothing more than the sum of our perceptions!

At least Youko-chan’s regular grin was back. “Sorry! I’m just messing with ya.”

“Ugh. Meanie…”

I didn’t mind. Getting kidded on by a pal stung less than being stabbed by the phantom of my past self. This kind of sting was grounding, honestly. Where would I be without it? Oh! I see how it is. People have friends and acquaintances to avoid being alone. Like if I’d been the low-maintenance type the way I always claimed (“All I need is the Quintet. Oh, and a girlfriend. Or two. Tee hee, I’m so low maintenance”), then Youko-chan and I would have passed right by each other and never said a word. These claims of mine were really coming back to bite me in the ass…

Youko-chan may have been in class 1-B, but she was still my friend. Or at least I considered her a friend. She must’ve been, or else she never would’ve talked to me. Maybe…the more friends one had…the better? Huh. Okay. Let’s go make a million friends.

Speaking of friends, my friend Youko-chan had her hands full of shopping bags.

“Do you live in this neighborhood too, Youko-chan?” I asked her.

“Kinda? Not really,” she said.

“Oh. Were you buying pet food?” (I remembered her shopping list.)

“Y-yes, exactly! That’s exactly what I was doing. Got a problem with it?!”

Jeez, way to flip on a dime… What was her damage?

Youko-chan realized she’d flipped out (probably ’cause I was looking at her in horror) and cleared her throat. “Something like that, anyway. It’s a temporary thing. It may be a pain, but a girl’s gotta make money somehow.”

“Uh, sure…?”

There was an odd lack of light in the eyes of this otherwise bright and bubbly girl. Having a pet must take a lot out of a person, I wagered. Couldn’t be me. Youko-chan was incredible.

I offered a hand. “Looks heavy,” I said. “Let me carry one for you.”

“Oh, no need! You’re prolly in a hurry to go somewhere. Cause you’re dressed up so cute, y’know? I’ll be fine on my own.” She shook her head, grinning away in her archetypically adorable away. I bathed in the warm rays of her sunny smile. I could have sat there and soaked it up forever.

“Honestly,” I said, “I’m just dicking around.” (I was.)

“Really? You don’t have anyone to hang out with you? That sucks.”

“So, like, if you want to let me carry your bag…”

“I’m good!”

Oh. “Okay.” I looked down at the floor. I wasn’t sure what else to do—what else to say. Once Youko-chan left, I would be all alone again. “I guess I’m no good to anyone, huh.”

“Renako-kun?”

“I can’t even do the basic task of carrying things… The literal purpose of bipedalism… I’ll never be able to rid myself of this depressive darkness inside me. I’m sorry. I should never have been so presumptuous.”

“Huh? You okay, Renako-kun?”

“I’ll go home. Sprawl in front of the TV. Play my games. Die there.”

I turned and began to trudge away. Behind me, Youko-chan wailed, “Hey! Come back! You can carry my bag if you really want!”

Ah! My earnestness paid off. Once more, I could bask in the warm sunshine of human company… Oh, sweet sunlight…

“Thank you, Youko-chan. I am honored to carry your eminent bag.”

I bowed in time with the 5-7-5 rhythm.

“Just smile and nod, Youko,” Youko-chan muttered to herself. “Gotta get my karma somehow.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Maybe it was some kind of Buddhist thing? Like living your life well to get a better reincarnation next time. I could vibe with that.

Youko-chan fixed me with a steady stare as I skipped along next to her, bag in hand. “You’re kind of a weirdo, aren’t you?”

“…You think?”

She nodded. Emphatically. “Yeah. I would know. I’ve changed schools a lot and made friends all over. You’re the weirdest of them all.”

“Gee, thanks.” Honestly, I kinda just accepted it. “Then I guess I am.”

“Oh, so you acknowledge it.”

“Hm?”

Youko-chan looked at me in surprise. “Oh, ignore me. Just—aren’t you afraid of not being like everyone else?”

“Uh…” I trailed off. The old me would have said “Yes!” with her entire being. But now? Now… Well, I chose not to live the typical life. I had two girlfriends. I was kinda past the stage of claiming to be a typical teen.

“I guess not,” I said, in a very, very tiny voice. “It’s ’cause the people in my life are good folks. They don’t mind me being weird. They’ll still hang out with me if I’m different. After a while, I sorta…said eff it. I’m okay with being myself.”

“By people in your life, you mean like Oduka-san and Sena-san?”

“Um.” I looked away. Why did she mention those two? She didn’t know we were dating. Did she? Youko-chan, what secrets are you hiding?

“And Koto-san?” she prompted. “Koyanagi-san?”

“Oh! Uh, yes. Them. The Quintet.” I don’t know how I did it, but I made myself smile.

“Huh. That’s rad. Your friends sound nice.”

“They really are. They’re just incredible.” They were too good for me.

“So you like ’em a whole, whole lot?”

“Uh…? Yeah?”

What an embarrassing way to put it. But it was true. I did like them a whole, whole lot. Anyone would like the Quintet if they spent enough time around them. My friends had hearts made of gold, and by God, was I thankful for that. Even lone wolf Satsuki-san could be nice to me, provided no one was around to witness it.

Youko-chan’s eyes glittered. “Inch-res-ting! So you like ’em all, huh? Not just Wifey?”

“Sure?” I said. “You do know Kaho-chan’s not my wifey, right?”

“So can I ask—” and here she sidled closer, full gossip mode engaged “—which one’s your favorite?”

“Which one’s my favorite?” I repeated.

“Yup. You can tell me. This goes nowhere. My lips are Z-I-P-P-E-D. Prommy.”

“If I had to say…” If I had to pick a favorite…

Well, that was the kicker, wasn’t it?

Following in the footsteps of those who came before me, there were several possible answers: All girls are best girl! Or How can I choose just one? But I didn’t think Youko-chan would let me off the hook that easily. I could hear her already: Don’t give me that BS, Renako-kun.

Which meant… Hmm. Hmm hmm hmm hmm.

“Oduka-san was the first friend I made in high school,” I said. “So she’s a favorite.”

“Ooh!” Youko-chan squealed, but I wasn’t done.

“Ajisai-san is always so sweet to me, so she’s also a favorite.”

“Huh?”

“Satsuki-san tutors me, and I feel really comfortable around her. That makes her favorite number three.”

“Oh.”

“And Kaho-chan—well, she may not be my wifey, but I feel like I can be myself around her. She’s a favorite too.”

Kaho-chan shook her head. “Don’t give me that BS, Renako-kun.”

See? I told you! But what was I supposed to say? Each of my friends had something about her that made me think “Oh, she’s number one.” Wasn’t that how having friends worked?

Wait a minute… Was it bad to rank my friends as highly as my girlfriends? I personally didn’t think so—platonic and romantic love were basically just two names for the same thing. The “love” part never changed. And I didn’t think romantic partners were necessarily more important than friends. On the flip side of the coin, though, people could have oodles of friends. Being romantic partners was a lot more binding.

If I really couldn’t pick a favorite… Maybe I’m just afraid of commitment…

As if that thought wasn’t depressing enough, Youko-chan pointed out, “Saying you like ’em all is saying they’re all the same to you.”

“I mean…they kinda…are?” In the sense that I loved them all to pieces.

“Oh, I dunno. It just sounds, like…you’d like anyone if they were nice to you.”

Ow??? Why did that sting?

“Um, yeah? Isn’t that how it works for everyone? Look, I really care for my friends, okay?”

“Do you?” Youko-chan looked me right in the eyes. Ohh she was close. Way too close. She was right up in my bubble with those big, beautiful eyes of hers. She grinned. “Does that mean you’d like me if I was nice to you too?”

“Huh?” She leaned forward. I bent back. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“Aww. You’re gonna make me spell it out for you, huh?” Youko-chan’s suggestive grin rivaled the best of Kaho-chan’s. “I wanna be one of your favorites too, Renako-kun.”

Oh, so she was just teasing me. Right? …Right?

I lifted my arms until the grocery bag dangled between us like a shield. Youko-chan brushed past it and got even more up in my business to stare me in the face. I leaned away again, and she just kept on following me! Next thing I knew, we were going around in circles.

She wasn’t serious. She couldn’t have been serious. Right? Mai and Ajisai-san falling for me was a fluke. Surely my luck had run out after that.

But there was a rule of popularity: The best way to get popular was to be popular. Scientists once did a whole study about it on guppies. The bigger and flashier the guppy, the more mates it would get—presumably, no one had ever told the guppies not to judge a book by its cover. What was inside did not count in guppy land.

Imagine we have an especially cruddy guppy. Let’s call him Renappy. Renappy is a widdle bitty guppy with boring fins and tail. He isn’t even very good at finding food. Naturally, he has a hard time finding a mate.

BUT! If we put Renappy in a tank with a female, we’ve created a situation that artificially boosts his chances of getting a mate. Then when we add him back to a tank of chad guppies, he’s still an attractive mate in the eyes of guppy society!

People with plenty of support draw even more support. It’s just psychology—the bandwagon effect. Which is kinda frightening, if you think about it. Social outcast Amaori Renako blew up overnight with nothing more than a change in her environment. I felt like the eponymous emperor with new clothes. My popularity kept rising when I did nothing to deserve it. People thought I was worth loving without me ever lifting a finger—and they were wrong. I had hoodwinked them all. Once my friends inevitably deserted me, I would still go about with my nose in the air saying, “Look at me—Miss Popular, with no redeeming qualities! ❤” Someday, adventurers would stumble across my skeleton in the Tokyo desert, insisting to the end that it wasn’t me who was unpopular, it was society that was wrong! A horrifying concept.

“Why are you going pale?” Youko-chan asked.

“Oh, sorry. I was just imagining the future in the darkest timeline...”

“Someone says they like you, and your thoughts gravitate to the darkest timeline?”

“Yes. I mean, not always.” It varied case-by-case.

Wait—hold the phone. Youko-chan didn’t know I was swimming in girls. To her, I was just the lowest layer on the Quintet social pyramid. The weather forecast predicted a zero percent chance of a popularity storm in my future. So what was all this about?

I made a cutesy heart with my hands. “I mean, aww! Thanks, Youko-chan! You’re the best.”

“…Are you having a mood swing or a mood trampoline?”

Sorry.

She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Renako-kun. I pride myself on my looks, y’know. You’re sinking my confidence.”

“I…what?”

“You don’t like me back, huh? Poor me. Poor, poor lonely me. Poor desolate Youko.”

She kept sneaking peeks at me to make sure I was watching the dramatics. My heart raced. I liked her! As a friend. How was I supposed to respond? I was already in hot water. Now I had to walk on eggshells or else fall into scalding water!

But before I could decide what to say, Youko-chan stopped short. “Oh, we’re here. Thanks for helping me carry my bags.”

“Yeah, sure. Don’t mention it.”

Wait a minute. The apartment complex we stood in front of…was the same one I had walked Lucie-chan to.

“Something wrong?” Youko-chan asked.

“Nah. You, uh, live in a big place! Could transform into a robot, I bet.”

“Um…okay?” She didn’t comment on my asinine remark—as people tended not to do. “I don’t live here, by the way,” she added. “I’m just visiting someone.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And was that someone you-know-who? Probably not. A building this big could easily house a good two million people.

“…Renako-sama?” said a voice that sounded familiar but was probably not you-know-who. A voice like that could easily belong to a good two million peo…ple…

Wait a second.

I whirled around to face the girl with beautiful silver hair standing behind me. It was definitely you-know-who. A face so delicate it could’ve been made of glass did not belong to a good two million people.

Next thing I knew, you-know-who tackled me with a hug. “Renako-sama!”

“Gwugh!”

Youko-chan looked back and forth between the two of us. Her jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? There’s a fifth one?”

I had no idea what that meant, but I had bigger problems—like the girl who had just body slammed me and was now hugging the life out of me.

“Yay, Renako-sama! Welcome to my home.”

“Uh, hey. Thanks for…having me?”

So I guess I was…hanging at Lucie-chan’s now? Okay. My head swiveled in every direction as I took a seat in the dining room. Lucie-chan lived on one of the upper floors of this hoity-toity skyscraper, but for all that apparent wealth, she didn’t have much in the way of stuff. It was like she barely lived here.

She took the chair next to me and beamed at me. Cute. I felt like I’d come over to play with my little niece. Very cute…but…

“I didn’t know you guys knew each other,” said Youko-chan, midway through the process of unloading her shopping into the fridge. She was, evidently, at home in Lucie-chan’s apartment.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “I bumped into her at the train station one day, and the rest is history.”

“She’s saved my life many times,” Lucie-chan editorialized.

“In a game,” I had to clarify. “A game we played together.”

“Oh,” said Youko-chan. “That explains why she asked me to buy her a console the other day.”

“Thank you, Youko.”

“Anything for you, girlie. Work is work.” She waved off Lucie-chan’s thanks.

“Uh,” I said, “dare I ask how you two know each other?”

“Youko services me,” Lucie-chan reported happily.

Excuse me?

Youko-chan wrenched herself out of the fridge. “No. Don’t put it like that. We’re not even friends, Renako-kun. Think of me like her maid.”

“You’re her teenage bangmaid?”

“Oh my God. Think of it this way: A family friend’s mom asked me to keep an eye on her. Help with her basic errands and whatnot.”

“Oh. Okay.” That tracked. Lucie-chan had zero life skills. “So, uh…is she the pet you mentioned?”

“Basically.”

Lucie-chan’s expression was a question mark as we talked over her head.

Now it all added up. Large, white, like a Persian cat. I didn’t think Lucie-chan was selfish, per se, but maybe… Begging Youko-chan to buy her a game console counted. (I was glad she did, but y’know.)

“Before I came along, she didn’t even have curtains or a fridge,” Youko-chan told me.

“Now there is not too much light!” Lucie-chan chirped. “Curtains are great.”

“They sure are,” I agreed.

Curtains were the bomb. No curtains meant living at the whim of the sun and getting up at the crack of dawn. Mad shout-out to curtains.

“The sun will fade the furniture, even in autumn,” Youko-chan reminded Lucie-chan. “Make sure you close them. It’s my salary on the line.”

She got a salary? Dang. Youko-chan really was Lucie-chan’s keeper.

“But you won’t play games with me!” Lucie-chan whined.

“’Cause it’s not in my contract.”

“Humph.” Lucie-chan turned to me with puppy dog eyes. “Will you play with me, Renako-sama?” She fluttered her eyelashes. Stars shone in her eyes. Ohhh God. Not a pretty girl begging me… If there was a person capable of turning down such strong visual temptation, she wasn’t me.

“No,” Youko-chan snapped, shaking her head. “Renako-kun needs to go home.” This wasn’t usual Youko-chan. This was, like, arms-crossed serious mode.

Lucie-chan’s face fell. “Really?” She looked like someone had swiped the strawberry off her shortcake.

“I can probably stay for a few more minutes,” I offered.

“No! You have too much to do today.”

Was Youko-chan kicking me out?! The last thing I wanted to do was overstay my welcome. Guess I’m leaving. Maybe Youko-chan simply wasn’t in a social mood today. Made sense; she’d kept turning down my offers to help earlier. Whoops.

“Oh…” Now Lucie-chan looked like she’d dropped her triple-decker ice cream cone before she could take a lick. It broke my heart.

“I mean…” I began. I could stay a few minutes. If she wanted.

I snuck a glance at Youko-chan to ask for permission. She beamed at me and made a little heart with her fingers. “Now, now. Don’t indulge her. She may be pretty, and you may be utterly weak to cute girls—”

“Hey!”

“—but if you feed her, she’ll only follow you all the way home.”

“Will she really?” I glanced at Lucie-chan who had flopped over the table like a toddler. She immediately straightened up under my gaze and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Do not listen to Youko,” Lucie said. “I pay her paycheck!”

“You most certainly do not,” Youko-chan said.

“Oh. Then I do not pay her paycheck.” Lucie was as crestfallen as a girl who pulled the worst possible guaranteed gacha card and was all out of gems. “I want to change the terms of our contract. I want you to play games with me! Play with me, Youko. Play with me!”

She flailed her arms in the air. Ugh. Lucie-chan tantrums were cuteness incarnate. Why did she have to be so adorable? (And why did Youko-chan have to be right about my weakness for cute girls?)

“I already do your grocery shopping, clean your apartment, and wash your clothes,” Youko-chan said. “Tell me, where in all that am I supposed to find the time to play with you?”

Lucie-chan put a finger to her chin. She looked like a little kid mimicking a parent thinking. “You could not eat?” she suggested.

“Everyone needs to eat! Even you, Miss Picky Eater.”

“I am not picky. I can eat Pocky three meals a day. It is filling enough.”

“I’ll get fired if I let you eat nothing but junk,” Youko-chan snapped. Her cheerful tone was flagging despite her best efforts to sustain it. Lucie-chan was severely testing her patience.

Then Youko-chan rounded on me. “And what’re you grinning at?”

“Huh?” I waved my hands in front of my face. “I’m not grinning,” I said, grinning. “I’m just surprised that you have this problem too.”

“What problem?” She shot me a dubious look.

“Like… It seems like you never let anyone get to you. I never pictured you as the testy type. I didn’t mean it as an insult! I just got to see a new side of you, that’s all.”

“Urk!” Surprise flickered across Youko-chan’s face, but she turned her back to me before I could take a closer look. When she flipped back around, her smile had returned. I felt like I was in the world’s weirdest game of peekaboo. “Nope! No new side here. I’m Teruzawa Yoko, 24/7.”

“Uh, yes? I sure hope you are.”

“Don’t mind me! Gonna do some deep breathing here.”

“Help…yourself…?”

Youko-chan’s deep, steadying breaths were a sight to behold. Her form was perfect.

“Okay! I’m better now.” She gave me a thumbs-up.

Just then, there was an “Oopsie!” behind us. Lucie-chan had been trying to sneak by (probably to grab the game console to play with me) and tripped over nothing. She tumbled into the laundry basket and knocked it over. Clothes went flying.

“It’s okay!” Lucie-chan called from the direction of the laundry basket. “I caught it!”

Youko-chan stood there, impassive, like she wasn’t draped in T-shirts and Lucie-chan’s undies. Lucie-chan held both arms above her head, triumphant. The clothes had cushioned her fall, and she had escaped injury. Even better, so had the game console.

“Lucie-san?” Youko-chan turned to Lucie-chan. Devil horns of anger sprouted from her forehead.

“Eep.” Lucie-chan quailed.

“How many times. Have I told you. TO NOT WALK WHILE PLAYING YOUR GAMES? AND HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU NOT LISTENED TO ME?! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU PROMISED TO DO BETTER? LOOK! YOU RUINED THE LAUNDRY I JUST FOLDED!!!”

Lucie-chan shut her eyes tight and cowered with her hands over her ears.

“What is your problem? Why do you make trouble for me at EVERY. OPPORTUNITY?! If you get hurt, who do you think is going to get the blame? Huh? Huh??? ’Cause it’s not you! Do you want me to lose my job?”

“I will do better next time,” Lucie-chan mumbled.

“You always say that, and you never do better. I’ve had enough. I warned you what would happen, Lucie-san! Now I have to confiscate your games.”

“No…”

“Give them to me. Now. You are no longer allowed to play video games.”

Lucie-chan hugged the console to her chest like her life depended on it and whipped her head back and forth. Youko-chan tried to yank it out of her hands—then stopped. She suddenly looked back at me as if she’d only just remembered that I was there.

She took a deep, deep breath. Her smile snapped on. “Don’t mind us! We were just…fooling around.”

“Sorry, it’s impossible to believe that…”

“You sure? You know Napoleon once said, ‘If someone claims something is impossible, tell them ‘Maybe for you! I’m different.’”

“That’s Moomin. Not Napoleon.” Technically, it was Little My. (Not that this mattered.) “Why are you trying so hard to act like she’s not driving you up the wall?”

“’Cause you like sweet, sunny girls with hidden character flaws! Don’t you?”

“Uh, no? I do…not…” Okay, I couldn’t deny that. Because I did like my social butterfly friends and their hidden flaws that they revealed only to me. She had me there.

“But why should that matter? Why are you trying to appeal to my type?”

“So you’ll like me more! Duh!”

“But why? Do you have a crush on me or something?”

“No!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Lucie-chan pouring a glass of milk—an act of hospitality, presumably. I had a very, very bad feeling about this.

“Lucie-chan,” I said, “wait—”

But she did not wait. She tried to heave the full liter jug up to pour out a glass. Her arms trembled under the weight. And then it slipped.

“Ah,” we all said, and then that was the last thing we said, because the room exploded with milk.

I was doused from head to toe in the stuff. Worse, so was Youko-chan. Lucie-chan, by some powers of divine intervention, was the only one who ended up without a drop on her. She giggled as milk dripped from my sopping bangs.

“Yay!” she said. “Renako-sama has lots of milk now!”

Oh no, I thought. Because that was when Youko-chan exploded.

“!@#$%&*!!!”

***

Youko was ready to flip her lid. “What is her problem?” she growled. “Why does she do every! Single! Thing! I tell her not to do? If I wasn’t being paid, so help me, I would punch the daylights out of her. Gaaah!”

Scratch that. She had flipped her lid long ago. The lid was upside down.

Youko crushed the shampoo bottle in her grip, causing it to release half its contents in one glorp.

“Y-Youko-chan?” came a timorous quiver that could have belonged to a Chihuahua.

The reminder that she was not alone snapped Youko out of her funk. Her lips curled into a grin; it was something like a reflex at this point. “Ah ha! Never mind. Ignore me.”

“How? You’re terrifying.”

Bringing Renako here had been a bad idea. After Lucie turned the two of them into milk-sodden messes, Youko had decided to push the two of them into the shower. The shower stall was much too small for an apartment of this size; it was a tight squeeze. Naturally, as their clothes had to be laundered, a tight naked squeeze.

She’s got some honkers, Youko noted. Her eyes were drawn to Renako’s chest like magnets. Had Renako’s four-timing victims been male, this would easily have explained Renako’s popularity—but they were most definitely female. How did that work? Were girls attracted to big boobs too? If they were, Youko had never heard about it. (Personally speaking, she leaned on the side of the bigger, the better. Large breasts made for big, heaping handfuls of squishy goodness—but let the record show she’d certainly never looked at Renako that way.)

Ahem.

“Deep breaths, Youko! Deep breaths!” she said.

“Uh-huh…?”

Deep breathing was Youko’s favorite routine. A surefire way to calm herself. Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths. A very helpful tool to have in one’s pocket when one was inclined to flip out as often as she did.

Teruzawa Youko wore many hats at the Picaris detective agency: detective, member of the board of directors, future heiress of the company. In the last of these respects, she bore some resemblance to Oduka Mai, the heiress of her current client Queen Rose. But the resemblance ended there. The heiresses’ financial straits were nothing alike.

It had to be admitted that Picaris was drowning in debt. Youko’s father and his many lapses in good managerial judgment were to blame. This necessitated Youko stepping in to serve as one of its detectives, a mantle she’d taken on not long after graduating from junior high.

Youko would not have chosen to be a detective if she had any other options, but for all her lack of interest in the art, she was good at it. She had real talent, in fact. She had cracked quite a few cases thus far: finding a lost cat, tailing an unfaithful spouse, running a background check, finding another lost cat, negotiating a sticky job resignment on her client’s behalf, more lost cats, even more lost cats—oh, and another lost cat…

So long as it was legal, Picaris would do it. If it was toeing the line of illegality…oh, what the hell? Picaris would still do it. Picaris was more of an odd-jobs shop at this point. Youko felt they couldn’t afford to pick or choose in this economy, and she lacked her father’s attitude of working only if it pleased him. Pride, she thought, was only a disservice to a worker.

It was all thanks to her that most of Picaris’s debts were now settled. All they needed was one final push, and then the agency would finally be in the black. Youko just had to finish the Queen Rose job. Then she’d be free, free, free! She couldn’t wait to put the debt behind her and throw her letter of resignation in her father’s face. It was her dream. She had never wanted anything more.

That was why Operation: Elvira’s Warning had to succeed, so help her God.

That was also why there was a naked girl in front of her.

“Um,” said the naked girl, “I’m not…all that comfortable with bathing together.”

Surprising, considering she was four-timing her girlfriends, but Amaori Renako still turned fire-engine red at the touch of a fifth girl. Good! Youko thought. This would be payback. For having the morals of a rat, that little— Oops, Youko was getting ahead of herself again.

Deep breaths. Quietly, so Renako wouldn’t hear.

She couldn’t believe Renako was so eager to expand her harem, not when she already had an army of girls at her fingertips. Did Renako have no shame? Was she trying to rival Don Juan, he with two thousand women in every country?

Actually, that could work in Youko’s favor. Her job was to make Mai and Renako split up. The fastest way to see it done? Get proof of Renako cheating vis-à-vis a fifth love interest. (Was it really “cheating” if she was stringing five girls along at once? More of a question of ethics than anything else, really.)

No, the part that Youko really struggled with was…

“I think I’ll just wait outside until you’re done,” Renako said. “You have your bath first.”

…the fact that Renako refused to engage every time Youko made a pass at her. I can’t be that ugly, she thought.

Really, it was just insulting. Youko had run honey pot missions before (if you stretched the definition of “honey pot”). She was pretty cute, if she did say so herself. The Quintet may have been drop-dead gorgeous, but she wasn’t so bad either. She may not have had much pride in her work, but she had plenty of pride in the teenage girl department. She felt like she’d earned it; she never missed a day of her workout or skincare routines. The fact that Renako never noticed really ground her gears.

But she was getting ahead of herself. Her sole character flaw was how she let little things get under her skin and tick her off. One of these days, she was really going to have to work on that.

“Don’t stress it,” she told Renako with a big grin. “Here, let me shampoo your hair for you. You have all that milk in it.” A tad forcefully, she grabbed Renako by the arm and pulled her up short.

“Urgh,” Renako groaned. “Do I get the right to refuse?”

“Nope.” Big, big smile. ’Cause this is my big chance.

Youko had long since given up playing nice around Lucie Lefebvre. Lucie simply made her too angry. She caused problem after problem and had the good sense of a baby. Every bit of brains she might have had were ground up in a blender and chucked into the Grand Canyon. She was the literal, absolute worst. And yet, for all that, Youko had to thank Lucie for giving her this opportunity.

The hidden tape recorder was rolling. If I can convince Renako to fool around with me here and now, then this mission is in the bag, Youko told herself. Then it’s sayonara to this debt and this stupid babysitting job.

This mission had not gone as smoothly as she’d been hoping.

The first thing Youko had done upon receiving the job was run an extensive background check on Renako. She dug up every possible detail about her behaviors and background—including the secrets of Renako’s junior high days. Youko had done loads and loads of background checks before. Background checks were her bread and butter. She was proud to declare she knew more about Amaori Renako than anyone in the world. (Which she had once used, just for kicks, to make Renako squirm. That, and sharing a secret was one of the fastest ways to work your way into someone’s heart.)

Once the background checks were complete, Youko teamed up with Koto Satsuki—which had turned out to be a trap. Thing was, Satsuki didn’t approve of direct action. It was a shame, because the job was supposed to be easy—get in Renako’s pants, collect proof of her infidelity, and dangle it over her head as a threat until she broke up with Mai. Boom. Easy. But no, Satsuki had to be all cautious about it.

While Satsuki was too busy being cautious, Reneé took matters into her own hands. She summoned Lucie from France and engaged her to Mai, thus indirectly forcing Renako and Mai to break up. Satsuki liked this plan. Satsuki liked this plan very much.

And Youko hated it.

This was her job. If Renako left Mai due to the engagement, Youko could kiss her commission goodbye. Babysitting Lucie—a task Reneé had foisted on her—paid the bills to an adequate degree, but it was much too stressful.

I’ll deal with Koto-san later, Youko thought. I don’t know what her deal is, but she’s got some hang-up about me seducing Renako. Maybe it’s her own feelings for Renako holding her back? Well, whatever it is, it’s her business. I’m not gonna let that stop me.

She didn’t want to get pulled into Satsuki and Renako’s love pentagon. This was strictly business.

“C’mere, Renako-kun!” she said. “Feel this nice shampoo? Careful; don’t open your eyes now.”

Yes. Strictly business. Sudsing up Renako’s hair was business. Using great care (she was always rough with Lucie) was strictly business too.

C’mon, she thought. Let’s see you melt like putty in my hands.

She kneaded Renako’s scalp with each and every one of her fingers. Lathered up every strand of hair. Unleashed every scrap of knowledge she’d acquired in her brief stint as a hair stylist’s assistant. (She’d lied about her age and credentials. It was part of a case to catch an affair in the act.)

Renako moaned. It must have felt good.

“Oh, honey,” Youko giggled. “This is only the beginning.”

She rinsed out the shampoo and repeated the process with hair treatment. Casually, oh so casually, she picked up the body wash—which was when Renako intervened.

“I-I’m good!” she protested. “I’ll do that myself!”

“Aww. Don’t be shy,” Youko said. “I don’t mind.”

“And I do! I just. Um. I. I don’t want someone else’s hands on me! It’s just too much for me!”

Youko couldn’t stop herself from grinning. Renako sounded so very, very flustered. Delightfully so.

No, no, no, she told herself. This was business. Strictly business.

But a little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that Renako was one of them. The Quintet. The prettiest, most popular girls in school. The girls that Youko always tried and failed to live up to. Even siccing Takada Himiko on them had done little to ruin their friendship. It was almost like they believed there was such a thing as true friendship. (Barf.)

If there was a grain of truth in all the lies Youko told Renako, it was this: She struggled to make friends. Deep down, she wasn’t a social butterfly either.

Oh, but that was nonsense. Youko didn’t need friends. Having friends (and she didn’t) wouldn’t have done her a bit of good. Scanning the daily supermarket specials was a better use of her time than daily chitchat. That wasn’t sour grapes either. Being a detective exposed her to the seedy underbelly of society, and now she cared even less about making connections with her classmates. Being popular was all a matter of playing by a certain set of rules. Anyone could do it. Even her, if she wanted to!

Having to play nice while she was slaving away to pay off her dad’s debt infuriated her, so she took it out on the girls she pretended to be pals with. She knew it was irrational—but so what? Irrational anger was still anger. While she was Googling YouTube videos to find the best bargain bin cosmetics, they were buying up designer brand makeup willy-nilly. It was no wonder the Quintet turned out so gorgeous. She just couldn’t compete! There was a quantifiable difference in their makeup quality! And it drove her apeshit!

She often wished death upon all the stupid people out there—all the unobservant fools with no sense of taste. Right now, she really wished it upon the pretty girl sitting in front of her—the no good, four-timing scumbag who twirled other pretty girls around her finger.

“You leave me no choice, Renako-kun,” she said. “Here. Let’s try this.”

She lathered herself up with soap, leaned forward, and rubbed her chest up and down Renako’s back.

Renako squealed. “Um! U-u-u-um?! Youko-chan?!”

“Mm-hmm?”

“This is pushing the boundaries on friendly activity!”

“Well, you said you didn’t want someone else’s hands on you.”

“Yes, but—I don’t want your boobs on me either!”

Youko rubbed herself up and down Renako’s back. She leaned in and whispered deep into Renako’s ear, “But doesn’t this feel good?”

Renako produced a garbled, unintelligible sound. She stiffened and flushed red up to her ears. For a cheating, four-timing liar, Renako sure got embarrassed easily. Youko had long since given up being startled by such revelations. Appearances could be deceiving, and that seemed especially true in Renako’s case. No one would ever guess she had the nerve to juggle four girlfriends at once, not with a face like hers. Especially not if the girlfriends were all in the same friend group. That was not the behavior of a sane individual. What else did Renako get up to in her free time? Dousing her head with gasoline before lighting up a cigarette?

And yet she blushes like a virgin, Youko thought. Even though she’s swimming in hot girls.

On the flip side, maybe this went to show just how stunning Youko was. Not an unpleasant thought, that.

She reined herself back in. It’s because I’m not a part of the group. I’m an outsider. Renako isn’t supposed to be fooling around with me, and the taboo factor’s making her squirm.

She smirked. She was getting into the role, intentionally or otherwise. She could just see it now—Koto Satsuki, chomping on a handkerchief in despair!

Youko looped her arms around Renako’s neck and pressed herself closer. Certain objects went squish.

“Teruzawa Youko-san?!” Renako yelped.

“In the flesh,” Youko giggled.

“No, I-I know that? That’s the problem!”

Youko drank in the sight of Renako’s pale neck. Oh, this four-timing body. Oh, the source of all Youko’s trouble. The cause of all her problems. She needed to destroy it, here and now. Kill it.

She sank her teeth into Renako’s neck, and Renako screamed.

Interesting, Youko thought. So this is what it feels like. She bit down harder this time, so hard it left a mark.

Renako caterwauled. There was no room to writhe; she simply turned stiff as a board.

Youko let go and sat back to admire her handiwork. Her teeth had left perfect imprints in Renako’s skin. Whoa, she thought. I kinda dig this. The whole taboo factor of cheating. It rocked. It was even, dare she say it, sort of sexy. Now Youko was starting to get embarrassed—and that just wound her up further.

“Um, excuse me?!” Renako protested. “I-I’ve had enough. I’m leaving!”

“Nope, not till I’m done with you.” Chomp.

“Yeep!”

Youko bit the opposite side of Renako’s neck. Perfect: another lovely, matching mark. Youko felt like she’d claimed Renako. See this, Koto Satsuki? she thought. Look what I did to your precious Amaori Renako. Heh heh!

“P-please leave me alone…” Renako whimpered.

Youko ignored her. She opened wide and marked Renako’s bicep with an imprint of a perfect crescent moon. Oh, how she wished it would never come off for so long as Renako lived.

“Meep…”

I can’t believe I never noticed what cute sounds she makes, Youko thought. She cast a glance at her helpless bite victim. Renako chewed on her lip and stared down into her lap, gamely trying to put up with it. Youko’s heart—oddly—skipped a beat. She was the one putting the moves on Renako. She shouldn’t have felt anything. But then again, Renako was a succubus with four other girls under her belt. Youko knew she shouldn’t let her guard down—and she didn’t—but for just a minute there, she had almost treated Renako like an ordinary girl. She had almost made a deadly mistake.

Might as well finish ’er off, Youko thought. She didn’t have any experience with—ahem—finishing partners, but…who cared? Seize the day, and all that.

So she seized Renako’s arm and ran her tongue up the bite marks.

Renako squealed. “Hey, knock it off!” She grabbed Youko’s wrist and turned her head back over her shoulder. “C-can we stop? And get out of here? Please?”

Her voice wavered. Her eyes were wet with fresh tears. “Youko-chan…” Renako pleaded. No, begged.

A shudder ran through Youko. A shudder of wrath—her inner sadist was online and ready to rock. “Never,” she said. Oh, never, never, never, she thought. You’re not getting away from me, Renako-kun.

Renako quailed at Youko’s ghastly grin. She slid out of Youko’s arms; she’d had enough. But she wasn’t going anywhere. Not on Youko’s watch. “You get back here!”

Renako was one foot out the door. “No! I’m done!”

Youko leaped up from the tub and grabbed her around the waist, pinning her down. “Hey! No running away!”

“What is your problem? This goes beyond friendly behavior, Youko-chan! What are you trying to do to me?”

“It’s just a little friendly touchy-feelyness! We’re bonding, Renako-kun!”

“Bonding is talking about—I don’t know—manga and video games! Not this weird…weird…sexual tension!”

“But you love sexual tension! You’re into girls, aren’t you?”

“No! Not in the slightest! I will die on this hill—I am not into girls!” Renako screamed.

As if on cue, the bathroom door banged open. Uh-oh, Youko thought. Stupid Lucie coming in to see what all the fuss was about. What a pest! Arms still around Renako’s waist, Youko turned to the pest and summoned up a plan to make the pest go away.

There was just one problem: Lucie didn’t have long, flowing black locks. Youko’s eyes traveled up to meet a scowl and folded arms. “When you two have had quite enough of going at it like animals…”

Renako screamed.

The pest was none other than Youko’s business partner, Koto Satsuki. And she was not happy.

Whoopsies, Youko thought. I’ve done it now.

***

What had I done to deserve this?

I perched atop my chair in one of Lucie-chan’s baggy T-shirts and adopted my most penitent pose. Youko-chan sat next to me in a chair of her own. Lucie-chan was across from us. And next to her was…

“Listen,” I said. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Mm-hmm.”

…Satsuki-san. She never lifted her eyes from her phone. She wasn’t remotely interested in my excuses.

I was trapped. Overwhelmed. Blindsided and bamboozled. First, Youko-chan went way too far with that bath prank. Next, Satsuki-san had inexplicably spawned at Lucie-chan’s house. Why, oh why, did she crop up everywhere?

“It’s none of my business who you bathe with. But…” Satsuki-san said. She lifted a finger and leveled it at my neck. “If it isn’t what it looked like, you should stop putting yourself in situations that look like that.”

I slapped my hand over the bite marks. “I didn’t start it, I’m telling you! It’s all Youko-chan’s fault. She was the one who started screwing with me.”

“Screwing,” Satsuki-san repeated.

“Yes! She offered to wash my hair, and then she up and bit m—I mean, no. No screwing.” (Almost got caught by a leading question there.) “We were just taking a shower together. There wasn’t any funny business.”

“Ah, yes. A shared shower in a bathroom specifically designed for one. Nothing funny about that, I’m sure.”

“Yes. You’re correct—except it’s still not what you’re insinuating.”

The verbal pitfalls just kept coming! Satsuki-san was an interrogation fiend.

“Look, it all started when Lucie-chan spilled a bunch of milk on us,” I said.

“Pray forgive me.” Lucie-chan bobbed her head. (Don’t ask me why she sounded like she came out of a period drama.) She put her hands on her cheeks and continued, a bit bashfully, “You sounded like you were having fun. I got a little jealous.”

“Correction: Youko-chan was having fun.”

I had no problem throwing Youko-chan under the bus. She deserved it. Japanese society was tuned into the issues of locker room groping and upskirting girls—Youko-chan, apparently, had missed the memo. Yeesh.

The memo misser pouted. “I was just being friendly. Is it a crime for friends to touch each other?”

“Touch, maybe not. Bite? Yes.” I glanced down at my bicep. Urgh. The bite mark was still visible.

“Koto-san, you’re just a party pooper,” Youko-chan said. A nerve pulsed in Satsuki-san’s temple. “If you wanted to join in, you shoulda said so.”

Lucie-chan’s hand shot up. “Ooh! I wanted to join in!”

But Youko-chan ignored her and kept needling Satsuki-san. “Y’know, you’re always trying to stop me from talking to Renako-kun. What’s that all about? You got a problem with me ’n Renako-kun hanging out?”

“I’m simply asking you to practice discretion. Stop making a fool of yourself where other people can see you. I am perfectly entitled to my complaints. Does a person not complain when her restaurant table is dirty?”

“Gosh, Koto-san. You really can’t be honest about your feelings. No wonder you don’t have a partner.”

Holy smokes! Youko-chan, disrespecting Satsuki-san? That was a one-way ticket to getting low-kicked! Youko-chan!!!

But Satsuki-san ignored my dithering. Her response was nothing more than a blunt “I see.”

Huh? No low kick? What, did Satsuki-san have a sprained ankle or something? Now I was worried. She’d lost one of her top three identifying qualities: her black hair, her great looks, and her low kicks.

Unless…were the low-kicks and face grabs reserved for me? Satsuki-san had developed a tsundere streak lately. Maybe her violent outbursts were a sign of her deep, platonic affection for me. If so…could she tone it down?

Youko-chan sighed. “It’s a shame you interrupted. I was so close.”

Close to what? Gobbling me up whole?

Satsuki-san didn’t take the bait, and the conversation stalled. An awkward silence passed between us.

“Um…Satsuki-san,” I said gingerly, “what are you even doing here?”

Lucie-chan answered for her. “She came over for a play date. She is my meilleure amie.” Her what now? While I struggled to parse that unknown phrase, Lucie-chan linked arms with Satsuki-san and, with a great big grin…plopped a kiss on her cheek. Hello?!

Satsuki-san just sat there and took it. She didn’t pitch a fit. She only sighed and said, “Oh, Lucie, Lucie, Lucie. We don’t kiss just anyone in Japan.”

“But this is my home. It is an extraterritorial zone.” She turned her cheek to Satsuki-san. “Do it back. I’m waiting.”

“Yes, yes. Whatever you say.”

Satsuki-san turned too, made a little kissing noise with her mouth, and repeated the gesture twice on both cheeks. Um???

Lucie-chan giggled.

“Happy now, princess?” Satsuki-san asked.

Lucie-chan put her hands on her cheeks and beamed in pure delight. “Yes! I am happy I came to Japan.” She turned her brilliant grin on me. “And I made a new friend here.”

“Yeah? I guess…?”

My brain still hadn’t caught up to events. I felt like I was watching a scene out of a fancy European film.

Were Satsuki-san and Lucie-chan just friends? Or…? Or…???

I screamed so loud everyone in the quiet neighborhood could hear it. “You’re telling me Lucie-chan is Mai’s fiancée?!”

It was evening now. My clothes had dried, and as it was almost time for Satsuki-san’s shift, she and I walked to the train station together. That was when Satsuki-san spilled the shocking beans.

“Correct.” Small world, isn’t it? her face said.

I thought back to Mai’s description of her fiancée. “I’ve mentioned that I grew up traveling between France and Japan, yes? She is a good friend from the French half of my childhood. A fellow model of mine; I used to love her like family. She’s a delightful girl, you know. Very earnest; quite pretty. The kind of girl you can’t help but love.”

Ha ha… Yeah, in hindsight, it made sense… Lucie’s almost unreal quality was a lot like Mai’s. So was her flawless, mythical beauty. And she did once say she was a famous French model. Truth be told, it would’ve been weirder for there to have been multiple Lucie-a-likes running around.

“Does that mean you and her were friends as kids too?” I asked.

“It does.”

“Was she the reason you once told me kisses are usually a cheek thing?”

“You needn’t dredge up such trivial conversations,” Satsuki-san shot back.

Our first kiss wasn’t “trivial,” but whatever.

“Lucie is presently in Japan for work,” she went on. “I’ve been a bit worried about her being so far from home and all alone. I stop by periodically to make sure she’s all right.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Well, you’ve met her. You’d agree it’s a valid concern?”

A quick slideshow of images scrolled through my head: Lucie-chan collapsed on the street, Lucie-chan staking out the train station to wait for me, Lucie-chan flinging milk all over me…

“Yeah, it’s valid.”

“Indeed. Don’t mistake my justified worry for kindness.”

Way to brush me off. I thought Satsuki-san was kind, even if she didn’t. But I wasn’t going to argue it with her if she wouldn’t acknowledge it herself.

“Mai and I think of her rather like a kid sister,” Satsuki-san continued.

“Ooh.” I could see it. Satsuki-san’s physical comfort with Lucie did seem more like familial affection than romantic or platonic.

And speaking of kid sisters…

“So you must know Lucie-chan well, huh?” I said.

“What’s that now?”

“Oh, nothing. Just like…do you feel like you get her?”

“I suppose…? She’s rather one-dimensional. There’s not much to get.”

Fair. Lucie-chan wore her heart on her sleeve. Not in the sense that she was especially emotive—more like she had the power of self-expression all top models did.

“Do you feel like you don’t know your own younger sister well?” Satsuki-san asked. She knew what I was driving at.

“Um… Yeah, sort of.” I didn’t meet her eye. “Thing is, I don’t get how people’s emotions work to begin with. And my sis, well…she’s basically a mystery to me.”

I made a big stink over finding out what was bothering her. But I never got my answer—and I never would. My progress through life was so slow my sister would always leave me in the dust. Remember the time I left her behind as a kid? Now the situation was reversed.

“Is that really such a bad thing?” Satsuki-san asked.

“I guess not…”

“Consider Mai. She has never, not once in her life, understood the way I feel, but I don’t let it bother me.”

“Well, yeah. ’Cause she’s Mai. Mai can get away with a lot of things I can’t.”

“Yes, but she…how should I put it? She tries to meet me halfway. I can see her trying to understand me, and that’s what truly matters.” Satsuki-san chuckled. “Truth be told, the final outcome isn’t everything. Sometimes, simply having someone there to offer a helping hand makes all the difference. I think your sister is quite lucky to have someone who cares for her the way you do.”

“Do my ears deceive me, or are you complimenting me?” I looked up at Satsuki-san with pleading eyes.

She smiled the barest fraction of a smile. “Think what’d you like. It costs me nothing to rattle off a few self-help clichés.”

“Ouch.”

“But if it made you feel better, then I suppose it was worth it. Even if it wasn’t my intent.”

Huh. Okay. Satsuki-san was virtually always right. And yet…

“Maybe I’m being greedy,” I said. “To hope for anything more.”

“You are. The degree of help we can offer depends on the timing and the recipient’s mood. Offering additional help is being a hindrance—and we don’t want that.”

That bon mot could easily have gone viral on X (formerly Twitter). I mulled over her words—I hadn’t meant to start venting, but it’d just happened anyway—and eventually bobbed my head in gratitude.

“Hey, thanks,” I said. “I’ll hold on to that.”

“Good. Now, you must understand I’m staying out of this Mai and Lucie engagement debacle. If I drop by Lucie’s apartment occasionally, it’s only to see that she hasn’t hurt herself.”

Sure. That made…sense…

“Wait a second,” I said. “When Mai asked you if you’d talked to Lucie, you said no.”

I assumed Satsuki-san would tell me to mind my own business, like she always did. But actually, she barely reacted.

“Oh, that? I lied.” The brazenness of this girl!

“I’m sorry, what?”

Satsuki-san ran a hand through her hair, breezily. “Think nothing of it. I often tell white lies to save myself trouble.”

“That’s awful!”

“That’s just human nature.”

“True, but…!”

Actually, recent studies confirmed that animals lie too—and I don’t mean just with camouflage and mimicry. Primates and corvids are particularly famous examples of lying animals. Many social creatures have the capacity to lie. If we wanted to get technical, Satsuki-san should have said, “That’s just social nature.”

Sorry. Got sidetracked there.

“But,” I said, “for every lie you tell, that’s one new thing you have to recall later. Something you say once has to be remembered for the rest of your life. Not very cost effective, huh, Satsuki-san?” (Said the girl who hid her dark past ad nauseam.)

“I don’t mind,” Satsuki-san said. “I’m quite smart.”

“Oh. Then I guess it’s okay. Or…is it?”

Who knew? Well, I couldn’t change Satsuki-san’s lifestyle. I wasn’t her life partner.

“Fear not,” she added. “I won’t tell the others what you did with Teruzawa.”

“Grk!” I almost bit my tongue in surprise. My hand flew up to the spot on my neck, and I rounded on Satsuki-san. “I didn’t do anything. It was all her.”

“Hence why I won’t tell the others.”

“Why does this sound like a threat? Where’s the ‘So long as you do as I say’?”

Satsuki-san frowned. “Paranoid, much? Your guilty conscience is acting up.”

“No shit it’s acting up!”

If I gave in to my guilt, I’d call up Mai and Ajisai-san and confess everything: I had showered with a friend. Partway through, she bit my neck. But that would lead to tears for everybody. My insecurities would bring us straight to a bad ending.

Bad Ending 73: Cheating End.

Yeesh! There sure are a lot of bad ends…

If Satsuki-san kept quiet about it, though, maybe I was in the clear. Lucie-chan didn’t know what had gone down in her bathroom, and surely Youko-chan wouldn’t tell. Surely.

The biting came out of left field and was not a welcome surprise. But, just like getting out of the house earlier, it had lifted some of that heavy weight off my chest. I was less depressed—because I was too freaked out for depression.

I rubbed a hand over the bite mark and sighed. “She really went too far with that prank. I wonder if the stress is getting to her head.”

Taking care of Lucie-chan couldn’t have been easy. All that yanking of Youko-chan’s chain must have caused her to lose it and…bite me. God, the bite spot still stung. It would be impossible to forget.

“I suppose,” Satsuki-san said. “You should be careful around her.”

I laughed weakly. “Yeah. I should.”

At the very least, no more bathing with her. She may have meant that horseplay as totally innocent, but it was too much for me.

Satsuki-san and I reached the train station. It was time for us to go our separate ways. But, before she left, Satsuki-san dropped one final bombshell. “You know she’s set her sights on you.”

Huh?

It took a moment for that to sink in, and when it did, I turned bright red. “She’s done what?!”

***

“I’m leaving!” my sister called out, and she trooped out at the same time she always used to leave. She was back in her groove, and the rest of the family acted like we’d already forgotten that she had ever played hooky. As did I. The invitation for my junior high reunion stayed locked away in my desk drawer. I went back to my daily life. I struggled to get the Quintet to hang out with me, but I was happy. Mostly.

I wanted a big change to the status quo, but at the same time, I was relieved to have my old life back. People can be greedy and want two things at once.

“I’m home,” my sister called when she tromped in just before dinner. She spared me a disdainful glance (I was flopped on the living room couch) and said, “Don’t you have homework?”

“Yeah, but it’ll take no time to finish.”

“Then you should get it over with now.”

“Yup. I should.”

“Whatever.” Haruna turned away. “Mom, I’m hungry! Practice wore me out. What’s for dinner?”

Yup, we were officially back to normal.

My sister was back on her feet thanks to her own (and the Quintet’s) hard work. I wished I could’ve swooped in to save the day with my big sisterly powers, but oh well. I was proud of her. She could face setbacks and recover just fine. Not like me.

But little did I know there was more to this story than met the eye. My sister’s act had me convinced. I truly believed everything was over—and yet shit was about to hit the fan once more. The normalcy I saw was no more than a paper mâché facade thrown together in five minutes. One built on the back of sacrifices. But I had no idea. I had no idea about any of it.

I didn’t even know that one day, as I was walking home from school, I would walk right into a second ambush.

***

Oh God. Seira-san was back—and this time, she was staking out the train station.

I ducked behind a pillar and peeked around it to get another look at her. I wasn’t the only gawker. Her fashionable outfit drew plenty of stares. She looked like she’d walked straight out of trendy Harajuku and into this local train station.

The 999 unread messages had unnerved me to the point where I blocked her. Evidently, that had backfired. What was she thinking, showing up here? Unless she wasn’t looking for me. Maybe she was meeting up with Kaho-chan or another cosplayer bud. Maybe even Moon-san. But if she had been hoping to see one of them, she wouldn’t have had such a glare on her face. She looked like a hunter scrutinizing the crowd for her prey. I was the only possible target. And she did say she’d be back…

How was I supposed to clear this unexpected stealth mission? If this’d been a video game, I could’ve parkoured up a few walls and jumped from rooftop to rooftop to safety. Alas, this was real life, and I was not a stealth ninja. My extensive video game experience was no help here.

I considered going into the station café and waiting her out. Or maybe I could hide myself in a pack of other kids from Ashigaya until we crossed the ticket barrier. Or, to be extra extra safe, I could always walk to the next station down and catch the train there. I’d get a lot of steps in that way—especially if Seira-san staked out this station every day. It’d be good for my health. Heck, I could even lose a few kilos.

A sudden flash of intuition cut through that nonsense. Wait a sec—why is Seira-san standing in plain sight? She had been in hiding when I was ambling along down my street, oblivious that I was being hunted. It would only stand to reason, then, that she’d lurk behind the ticket gate now.

My FPS brain kicked in. This was bad news.

I scrambled out of hiding and swiveled my head. Seira-san was just meant to slow me down! She was a decoy! The real threat was hiding somewhere else. But where? If there was no one, then I could write this off as a case of my overactive cringe-fail brain. But I spotted someone in the corner of my vision—a vaguely junior high schooler shaped figure wearing a coat. Aha! My FPS training was finally in handy. Hooray for extensive video game experience!

I tiptoed away. Sorry, Seira-san, I thought. I’ll send a nice box of cakes to the cleaning shop once this all blows over. Just let me have this. For my mental health! God, I felt like a criminal.

I didn’t get far before a hand clapped my wrist. “Huh?” I said. The next thing I knew, there was a clank as something hard slapped right down next to it—a handcuff. “What the?!”

My eyes traveled up and met…

“Gotcha.”

…Minato-san’s.

“Huh?! What are you doing here? Who was that girl in the coat?!”

“Oh, her? One of our friends. She agreed to help out.”

“No freaking way.”

In my world, Seira-san and Minato-san were the only two characters labeled as Haruna’s friends. I never expected a third one to turn up! But this wasn’t a game universe. This was the real world, with eight billion people in it. Extensive video game experience did not translate to reality.

I tried to jerk away, but a tug on my wrist stopped me. I looked down. The other half of my handcuff was attached to Minato-san. Oh my God.

“I feel like I’m being hauled off to jail!” I bawled.

“They’re not real cuffs…” Minato-san said. “Still sturdy, mind you.”

“Why did you use freaking handcuffs?!”

“’Cause it’s in my best interest.”

“I call this a conflict of interests!”

“Look, whatever it takes to catch you, am I right? If you want them off, work with me here.”

Minato-san raised her hand for emphasis. The jangle of the chain sealed my fate: I was completely at her mercy. She unlocked her phone and muttered into it, “16:52, target taken into custody.”

“Uh, do I have the right to remain silent?” I said. “Maybe the right to an attorney?”

“Nope.”

“Whatever happened to Japan’s sense of justice?”

A hand clapped itself on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” the hand’s owner said. “I’m your state-appointed attorney.”

I spun around, eager to see who had come to my rescue. It was…

“So work with us, m’kay? We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Oneesan-senpai.”

It was Seira-san.

“You’re in the police’s pocket!” I spat. The defense was in league with the prosecution. I was done for. So much for criminal rights.

“Let’s get outta here so we can talk,” my lawyer suggested.

“Sure,” said the policewoman. “I know a good café.”

Then my two junior high captors frog-marched me from the scene. I really hoped none of my classmates saw. This was the stuff awful rumors were made of. What was my sentence going to be? Make it quick, judge. I wanna be back on the streets ASAP.

That said, when we finally got to that café and they told me what was what, I realized I kinda had the wrong impression.

Minato-san set the scene. “Let’s get into it.”

The setup felt like the mirror image twin of the trap Kaho-chan and I had laid for Seira-san just the other day. Then, we’d made her sit in the middle to block off her escape route. Now it was the reverse. Seira-san sat across from me, and Minato-san took the seat next to me to stop me from escaping. Not like there was any chance of that happening to begin with. You know, the whole handcuffs thing?

That’s what they call karma, I realized. What goes around comes around. Bluh.

We ordered our drinks and stuff, and then the trial began. I was dripping sweat. Was this what it felt like to be in police custody? To have your future torn away from you?

“L-listen…” It came out in a tiny whine. “I don’t have that much money…”

Lawyer fees. Damages. Settlement fees. But I’d be lucky if I got off with just a few fines. Anything but going to jail!

The prosecution and the defense signaled each other with their eyes and nodded in unison. The defense (Seira-san) led the opening arguments. “Oneesan-senpai.”

“Yes?”

This was going to be the worst three-way conversation of my life; I just knew it. My eyes grew hot with unshed tears. Not again! I didn’t want to wind up a blubbering mess in front of them a second time.

Then Seira-san bowed to me and said, “I’m sorry.”

Hello? “Why are you apologiz—wait a second.” My eyes opened wide. “You’re about to dox me on social media, and this is a preemptive apology. Is that it?”

“No.” Seira-san addressed the defendant (me). “Things are different now, and we need your help.”

The question on my tongue was a big red button I couldn’t press. I dragged my finger around its rim. “Things?” Were they not…taking me to court for doing a runner?

Apparently not. Not at all, judging by the looks on their faces.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You ambushed me because you wanted my help?”

“Yes.” Seira-san nodded.

I lifted my wrist. Minato-san’s arm came with. “So what’s the deal with the handcuffs?”

“We wanted to make sure you couldn’t run away.”

“You should’ve said so!”

“Would you have listened if we did? You were already running when we spotted you, and all we did was wait for you at your train station.”

“Eep.” Seira-san was correct on all counts. I bobbed my head in earnest apology. “Sorry. I do indeed deserve the handcuffs.”

“See? Told you. But don’t worry, you still have a chance to atone for your crimes. It’s not too late.”

“Do you really mean it, madam lawyer?”

Minato-san whispered to Seira-san. “Psst, let up on her. You’re going to make her cry again.”

“Oops. Did I go too far?”

“Yup. Take out your personal grudge on her when we’re done.”

“’Kay.”

Evidently, once these “things” that had changed were wrapped up nice and neat with a pretty little bow, Seira-san was going to get back at me. Bluh ×2. Couldn’t we all just get along?

I hung my head in shame. “But…Haruna’s gone back to school, right?” I said. “That means everything’s okay now. Case closed. Right?”

And…

I hated to say it. It was so mortifying. But I simply had to address the elephant in the room.

“Haruna never listens to me anyway. She doesn’t care about me or what I think. And right now, she’s acting like she never stopped going to school. I don’t think I can help you after all.”

“That’s so not true,” Minato-san said. “Because—”

“Minato!” Seira-san interrupted.

Minato-san ignored her. “The whole reason Haruna got mad at me was because I was talking about you.”

“…Wait. What?”

But Haruna had said that wasn’t what happened. She had laughed at me for suggesting it. She said it had nothing to do with me.

“Let me start from the top,” Minato-san said. She had this bored, disaffected quality to her voice that was the polar opposite of my upset confusion. “Just to double check, you used to be in the same class as my older sister—Nashiji Komachi. Right?”

Just hearing that name made a weight drop into the pit of my stomach. I nodded, very, very slightly, like I was giving way to gravity. “…Right.”

“Figured. My sister’s mentioned you. Back then, you…didn’t always go to class, huh?”

Seira-san gave me a worried look.

I couldn’t bring myself to react in the appropriate way. I just tried to play it off and grinned. “Yup. It’s true. Probably everything she said is true.”

Seira-san blinked in surprise. “Seriously? I thought, like… Y’know. You’re Oduka Mai’s friend ’n stuff.”

“Well, yeah. It’s complicated.” How was that for a non-committal answer? Thing is, Mai just happened to sit next to me on the first day of school. I took the plunge and talked to her. The rest was history.

“Can I, uh…ask how much she told you?” I prompted.

Minato-san and Seira-san exchanged glances. “Just that you stopped going to school for a while,” Minato-san finally said. “And that you were kinda quiet and unassuming. Maybe not the best student.”

Their eyes asked me if that was all true. I nodded, and Seira-san frowned. “Then what was Haruna being so stubborn about?”

“See,” Minato-san went on, “I brought this up to Haruna, and she flipped out on me for no reason.”

Seira-san nodded. “Haruna gets, like, joking mad sometimes. But I’d never seen her legit mad before. I figured we musta touched a nerve. She really cares about you, Oneesan-senpai.”

I didn’t know about that… For starters, I couldn’t picture Haruna getting pissed at people gossiping about me. Especially not when everything Minato-san said was true.

“She was so angry that I got a little bent outta shape too,” Minato-san admitted. “And then it just spiraled and blew out of proportion. We couldn’t even get along in class. I feel bad for Seira being caught in the middle of it.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Seira-san cut in. “I just wanted y’all to stop fighting and make up.”

“Same, but like…she called my sister a liar. I got so mad.”

That caught my attention. “Minato-san, are you and your sister close?” I asked her.

“Hm? I mean, I guess. The way most sisters are. Why do you ask?”

“Never mind. Sorry, keep going.”

“Sure.” Minato-san nodded. “So while this was all going down, we weren’t hanging out with each other, right? One of my other friends asked me what caused the argument, I told them the truth, and then…”

Minato-san faltered, and Seira-san took over with a snarl. “That was all Haruna’s fault! She shouldn’t have turned on you like that. I’m still mad at her.”

Minato-san touched her cheek. Oh. They meant when Haruna hit her.

Minato-san’s eyes fell to her lap. “And that’s when Haruna stopped coming to school.”

“Wait, but…” But Minato-san and Seira-san talked like the problem was still ongoing. “Haruna’s back at school now. Haven’t you guys made up?”

Neither of them said a thing for several long seconds.

“…Am I wrong?” I said.

The awkward silence stretched longer. The second hand described a full revolution on the clock before Seira-san opened her mouth. “Like we said. Things have changed.”

And now we were right back to where we started. The current situation at school. A side of Haruna I knew nothing about.

“Haruna’s stopped talking to anyone,” Minato-san said.

“Huh?”

“Pretty soon, no one in our class was talking to her too. She doesn’t even go to sports practice anymore.”

“Wait, hold on.” But then what was she doing every day? Why was she bounding out the door so early every morning, if it wasn’t for practice? Why was she smiling like nothing had changed? Why did she come home so late, if she wasn’t spending the afternoon at school? Was that all a lie?

I pictured my sister.

Haruna sitting all alone at break. Haruna insisting that nothing was wrong even while the weight of waiting out the clock wore her down. Haruna bowed down by the pressure to conform, by the isolation. Haruna about to snap.

Just like I did.

“But why?” I found myself saying. The words just rose up out of the back of my throat without any input from my brain. “Why is she letting this happen to her?”

I could understand a single person choosing to ostracize Haruna after what she’d done. But not everyone. Not Haruna.

Seira-san shook her head. “We don’t know either. We ask her, and she doesn’t respond. She ignores all our calls and texts. If she’s gonna act like this, I think she’s better off staying home!”

“I thought we could apologize to each other and put it behind us,” Minato-san said. “But I guess that’s not what Haruna wants to do.”

“To be honest, Haruna just doesn’t fit in with the class anymore. A lot of people are upset with her attitude. It’s not just us.”

“If things keep up, worse comes to worst…”

What Minato-san didn’t say was this: Worse comes to worst, people are going to start bullying her.

And yeah. That was worst. That was as bad as things could possibly get. Was Haruna trying to tick people off and make that happen? Bullying was always the bully’s fault. The victim’s 100 percent in the clear. You blamed their environment, not them. So Haruna’s actions made no sense. Haruna was sentencing herself to hell.

Haruna was Haruna—my amazing little sister. Could she weather it? Honestly…no. I didn’t think so. People aren’t made to handle high-level malice. We aren’t cut out to weather the scorn of full groups. Hell, I folded under the pressure of just one person.

Why? Why was Haruna letting this happen to her?

Warning bells rattled my skull. What if Haruna had a real mental breakdown? What if she stopped going to school for real? I’d be horrified. Upset at myself for not doing more. But no amount of feeling bad would make up for it.

Seira-san crossed her arms across her chest and sank back into the plush seat. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still super mad with her! But I don’t want anything bad to happen to her, and I don’t want to see my friends sink to that level either.”

“Oneesan.” Minato-san’s eyes sought mine. “I know this is asking for a huge favor, but…well, if you’re her raw nerve…then you’re the only one who can change her mind.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I agreed either. Because Haruna had refused my help. She threw it back in my face. She said her business was none of my business.

But that’s not what Minato-san was saying. She said, in no uncertain terms, that my sister got mad on my behalf. Which meant, yeah. Her business was my business. And so I could take another step forward. I could intrude in Haruna’s heart one step more.

Provided I had the courage.

“Okay,” I said. I nodded, looked up, and met the eyes of Haruna’s friends. “I’ll do it. Thank you both for trying to help my sister.”

“No, I mean…sorry we went so overboard.” Minato-san unlocked my handcuff with a tiny key.

“No, I really mean it.” I rubbed my sore wrist and dropped her a quick bow. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll try talking to Haruna one more time.”

“…You sure you’ll be okay?” Seira-san asked. “Haruna’s hella stubborn.”

“I might not be okay,” I said, “but even so, I have to do this.” I grinned back at her, ruefully. It didn’t matter if Haruna gave me the cold shoulder. You wanna know why? “Because she’s my little sister. I’m her big sister, and this is what being a big sister is all about.”

Sure, I’d already shown my ass to Seira-san and Minato-san. But I had to look mature in front of the kids sometimes, you know?

So, with every bit of bravado I possessed, I promised to save my sister.

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 4

HARUNA’S OLDER SISTER holed up in the Amaori family home and refused to come out.

There were words for people like her. Truant. Flunky. Shut-in. Hikikomori. You saw people like that on the news and social media, but it was another thing learning there were tens of thousands of these folks across Japan.

“Morning,” Haruna said when they crossed paths on their way to the bathroom.

Haruna’s sister said nothing. She was getting ready for bed; her sleep cycle was completely turned upside down. Her hair was uncombed. Her T-shirt had wrinkles. Her limp bangs hung in her face, obscuring her lifeless eyes. And you didn’t want to get Haruna started on the lapsed skincare routine.

Renako looked like something out of a horror film, Haruna reflected as she watched her sister ooze away. And that’s the end of that, she thought.

“…Stupid,” she muttered.

She was worried about Renako—or, well, she had been at the start. She’d probed her sister with the delicate touch of a person prodding a tumor. But Renako just ignored her.

Haruna had even checked out a book on shut-ins at the library in the hopes it’d provide some insight. Her friends found it, and she’d had to fib. “I’m just interested in social issues.” That was a new experience for her. Lying.

And it didn’t even do any good. It was like a stranger had swapped placed with her sister. Her sister’s (few) good points were gone; she was no longer the Renako Haruna knew.

So now Haruna loathed her guts. Who wouldn’t? Renako had made herself this way: Stupid. Pathetic. Lame. Messy. Irritating. A capital L loser.

Haruna didn’t try to be mean to her—she detested picking on easy targets. She just had no more patience for Renako.

“I’m going to school,” she announced, and out she went.

What sucked more than anything was the way people talked about Renako at school. She wasn’t proud of her sister. No one would’ve been proud of such a wash-up of a sibling. So Haruna fibbed, day in and day out. She fibbed that she didn’t care, and all the while the frustration inside her mounted larger and larger.

“So you know that movie that came out the other day?” She forced an inane smile onto her face. The whole class was chatting, and everyone was happy, happy, joy, joy. Except Haruna. Haruna struggled with the indignity of having a sister who made her feel this way.

When she got home that afternoon, she wandered into the living room and called to her mom in the other room, “Hey, Mom? Can I watch a movie on the computer?”

There was a family computer in the living room. Thing was, Renako was parked in front of it. Like she doesn’t have a computer in her own room, Haruna thought nastily.

“Right now? Your sister is using it.”

“Oh, come on. Outa my way, lump.” Haruna said it as a joke, but Renako stood up and squelched out of the living room. Haruna snorted in derision.

Her mother’s scolding voice floated over to her from the kitchen. “Haruna, you know that’s not nice.”

So? If Renako wasn’t going to live her life right, she needed to make room for those who would.

Haruna took the seat Renako had recently vacated and booted up the film on the family’s shared subscription service account.

This horror film was all the rage with girls Haruna’s age, but she hadn’t expected it to be so scary. Come nightfall, she was too scared to sleep. Did we even watch the same film? she asked her imaginary classmates. That was terrifying! (She didn’t realize she was just a horror wimp, hence why she lacked the good sense to turn it off partway through.)

I’m not a wimp! she told herself. I’m great with horror. She had never gotten spooked by movies she saw in theaters with friends. The movie was the problem. It was, like, 300 percent scarier than any usual movies. She just knew a ghost would pop out of the shadows the moment she closed her eyes.

But if she didn’t get some rest soon, she’d wind up pulling an all-nighter and going to school with no sleep. Then everyone would know she was a big baby. It would be the literal end of the world. Nothing was worse than being teased when you were an elementary school girl.

She turned on the light and pulled the blankets up over her head to see if that helped. It didn’t.

This, she thought, is the actual worst.

She got up to make one last trip to the bathroom. But the moment she cracked her door open, she regretted it. The hallway was pitch black. Shadows lurked in unwelcome corners. Eek! she screamed internally.

The bathroom was just a few steps away, but she didn’t have the courage to move those few meters. Her imagination kept filling in the blanks of whatever was out there—whatever horror was skulking in the darkness. Had night always been this pitch black? The sole source of light came from the gap under her older sister’s door.

Abort mission. Haruna would simply go to bed without peeing. Except…she really had to go.

She gritted her teeth. Her eyes flicked from the light of the bedroom to the darkness of the hallway and back. She was trapped at the boundary line between. Unable to move forward. Certainly unable to stay—

Until her sister’s door opened and her sister emerged from the depths with plodding steps. Renako noticed Haruna and stopped. Neither girl said anything. Haruna looked away. She was not going to ask Renako for help. She was in sixth grade, and she was more than old enough to go to the bathroom on her own. She was not a spineless baby.

Renako cocked her head, confused at the sight of her stock-still sister, for a beat. Then she closed her bedroom door behind her and disappeared into the bathroom. She made it look easy—the one thing Haruna couldn’t do! But then again, Renako hadn’t watched that darn film.

Renako finished her business and vacated the toilet, and the door to her bedroom slammed shut. Haruna was left all alone in the silence.

She clenched her fists in frustration. She’d just missed her big chance—or at least it felt like that. She was furious at Renako, even though she knew Renako didn’t do anything.

Haruna was on the verge of dredging up every curse word she knew to direct at her sister when Renako’s door opened once more. Huh? thought Haruna. Because Renako was coming right toward her.

“Haruna.” The name was rusty and unfamiliar on Renako’s lips. She frowned and, with an odd temerity like she wasn’t quite sure how Haruna might react, asked, “You going to the bathroom?”

A beat. A long, long beat. Then Haruna nodded.

“Yeah.”

How the heck had Haruna wound up here? Here, being on the floor of her sister’s room. On her sister’s spare futon. Side by side with her sister on the bed above.

Renako kept nattering on. “Yeah, that movie scared the pants off of me.” “I watched it too.” “Did you hear there was a real haunting during the filming?” Almost like she was trying to make Haruna feel better or something. Then when all those words ran out—when Haruna didn’t respond to a single one of Renako’s comments—Renako fell silent too.

The bedroom was dark. There wasn’t even a nightlight to break the shadows. But with Haruna’s older sister close enough to reach out and touch? Her real, living sister? Well, maybe that was enough to make the fear ebb away.

Haruna was frustrated at herself for being dumb enough to need her sister’s help. But that wasn’t the only thing she felt. It was hard to put it into words. All she knew was that her eyelids were drooping (probably because it was late). She sunk beneath the surface of the waters of exhaustion.

She squinted, but she couldn’t make out her sister in the bed above her. It was too dark. Oneechan, she thought. She didn’t say it aloud, but man. It sure had been ages since she’d called her that.

She and Renako never talked about it afterward, but when one day Renako came to beg Haruna for help in turning her life around, and Haruna thought she might be willing to lend a hand… Maybe that night had something to do with it. Just maybe.

Chapter 7:
There’s No Freaking Way I Can Win the Sister Squabble of the Century!

HERE IT WAS. One more step, and I would peel off my sister’s stubborn mask.

Later, after it was all over, I would look back on this moment and question why I was so desperate to succeed. Any older sister would have moved heaven and earth to help her baby sister, sure. And I owed Haruna a massive favor for all the times she’d helped me. Without her, I never would’ve been able to reinvent myself before high school. Heck, I would never have met the Quintet without her. That meant no dating Mai, no two-week trial dating Satsuki-san (which subsequently made us bestest friends in the whole wide world), no running off with Ajisai-san, and no working the cosplay event with Kaho-chan. Without Haruna, I wouldn’t have had most of the successes that made me me. I owed my Amaori Renako identity to her. I mean it.

Laid out like that, it seemed obvious why I wanted to make it up to her—especially when I was the reason my sister stopped going to school. Double especially when I was the reason she stopped talking in class.

Yes, I hadn’t forced her hand. I hadn’t, like, made Haruna stop talking at school. But I also couldn’t sit here and let her do this to herself. It was just the right thing to do. If I didn’t do something, I was so reprehensible I didn’t deserve to be called a person.

That said…none of the reasons I just listed felt like the real reason.

I was a favor-returning kind of gal. Every time someone did something for me, I tried to pay them back two or three times over. But there had to be a better word than “payback” to explain how I felt about Haruna now.

The closest I could get was…love, I guess.

I wanted Haruna to be happy. I wanted her to have a good future. Because…because the happiness of this sister, this person living in my house, this person who’d follow me through life’s milestones a few steps behind, had an outsized effect on my happiness. This love of mine was…self-love? I guess???

Well, wherever this sisterly love stemmed from, I called it self-love. Not a very satisfactory conclusion, I guess. Oh well. Life didn’t always have satisfactory conclusions.

No matter how much our relationship changed—and lord knew it did—there was one thing that would never change: Sisters were people much too distant to be family and all too close to be strangers. Which made us the perfect people to reach out when the other needed a little help.

So here I was. Reaching out.

I caught Haruna on her way out of the bath the night after my talk with her friends. “Haruna?” I said.

“Hmm?” She turned back to look at me, her freshly dried hair swishing in its hair clip.

I had to look up at her. God, I couldn’t even remember how long ago it was that she’d passed me in height.

“What is it?” she said. “I don’t have all day.”

Pretending not to notice the slight rebuff, I got down to business. Well, I cleared my throat first. And opened my hands. And smiled big and bright and beautiful.

“You wanna go on a date with me on Sunday?”

“…Um, what?”

It was just like Mai had done. If I was going to make my sister open up to me, I had to be the one to make the first step. And this time, failure wasn’t an option.

***

Sunday dawned bright and sunny—perfect date weather. Now that I thought about it, I realized my sister and I were always lucky to have good weather on our hangout days. Maybe my sister had one of those personalities so sunny it made the sky sit up and take notice.

I waited by the front door until my sister traipsed down the stairs and joined me. She usually got ready in no time flat, so I turned to inform her she took forever—and stopped.

“Sorry.” She raised one apologetic hand.

My sister was dressed to the nines. Haruna had a good sense of fashion even on her bad days. Today? Today, she was radiant.

“Radiant” didn’t do it justice. To put it in proper detail, she had done up her makeup and dressed in an off-the-shoulder top. Her hair was down instead of up in her trademark athletic ponytail, and this small change revolutionized her entire image. I only ever saw her hair down when she was fresh out of the bath! It glowed. It swished. It was girly as all get out.

“You good?” she asked.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I just didn’t realize you’d get all dressed up.”

“I’m not all dressed up. I just figured I should do something since you asked. It takes too long to dress like this every day, y’know?”

She shot me a side-eye. I could tell she still held a grudge against me springing those hangouts with Ajisai-san and Satsuki-san on her.

“Like if you’d just told me we were getting a meal with Mai-senpai, I would’ve really gone all out,” she added.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

She shrugged and picked up a pair of boots. “It’s whatever. Honestly, I would’ve gotten distracted worrying about getting sauce on my nice clothes.”

“Hey, wait,” I jumped in. “We’re going to be doing a lot of walking today. Make sure you have the right shoes.”

“Oh?” She swapped to her usual loafers.

And me? Well, I only had the one pair of sneakers, so the choice was made for me.

“You sure those are good enough?” my sister asked me. “They were hurting you just the other day.”

“I’ll be fine. They’re broken in. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Mm.” And that was it. She popped on her shoes, and we trotted out the door into the sunshine.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Ready.”

We walked to the train station; from there, we would take the train to our destination. It was a bit of an adventure.

“Wait, before we go too far…” My sister stopped just outside the gate.

“Yeah?” I said.

“I want you to promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“I’m doing you a favor by going on this ‘date’ of yours. Understand?”

“Uh, sure.”

This “date” of yours—it sounded weird when she said it. (Never mind that I was the one who started it.) I knew I was reading too much into it. She only meant a date as in, like, a playdate. All platonic and jazz. But still.

“So promise me you aren’t going to talk about me skipping school. I’m tired of you bringing it up over and over.”

“Oh. Well, uh…”

“If you don’t promise, I’ll turn around and head home this very minute.”

Hardly a threat when we were barely off our doorstep, but even so. How shrewd of her to pick up on my ulterior motive. Maybe I was just too easy to read… A random offer to take her on a “date” was out of character for me.

“Fine,” I said. “I promise.”

“Good.” She nodded in satisfaction. “Now you may escort me to our destination, Oneechan.” She offered me her hand. What was she playing at? It stressed me out, whatever it was.

I accepted her hand as gingerly as I would have picked up a tool I didn’t know how to use. “I’ll try,” I said.

That was apparently the wrong dialogue option, as my sister just shook her head and sighed at my incompetence. Hey! But I would try!

She and I held hands all the way to the station. We probably looked like a pair of really close sisters. I felt nervous next to such a cute girl—even though I knew full well she was my sister. Too late, I realized I should’ve asked the Quintet to doll me up too. But then again, why get dressed up when it was just my sister? Argh! There were too many factors for me to decide. The outcome of my mission would ultimately depend on me and whatever I could muster, dressing up be damned.

Once on the train, we found a pair of neighboring hanging straps and stood side by side. My sister didn’t pull out her phone (for once); she stared out the window and watched the scenery. Occasionally, she glanced my way.

On one of those glances, I said, “Hey, so…”

“Yeah?” She tilted her head. I caught a whiff of her well-maintained hair (so unlike mine).

“Why’d you agree to this?”

“To go on a date with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I dunno.” Evasive, much?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like, you know…”

She refused to meet my eye, the way girls do when their crush demands to know who they have a crush on. Which was a very weird reaction from a sister. Stop acting like that! I mentally chastised her. You’re giving me a heart attack!

“Cause it’s you,” she finally said.

“Ex-cuse me?”

No way. She did not just spring a double serving of the romance trope special on me.

A natural blush—no cosmetics there—adorned my sister’s cheeks. She shot me a sidelong glance. “’Cause you know…your girlfriend broke up with you. I saw it on the news. I figure I should humor you a little.”

I just stared at her. Scratch what I just said. Make that a double sympathy special.

“We’re still together,” I informed my sister.

She gave me a Yes, and pigs fly look of complete pity. “Sure you are.”

“We are, though!”

“I know I’m no replacement for you-know-who, but I’ll be nice to you today to make up for it. All right?”

“Who the hell is you-know-who? Voldemort?! You can say her name. She’s not dead to me!”

No matter how I tried to clear up the confusion, my sister was convinced Mai had jilted me and I was a poor, lonesome waif without her. It pissed me off. If only she knew the extent Mai adored me. Mai and I were still a thing, okay?!

“By the way, you never asked the million-dollar question,” I pointed out as we stepped off the train. I trailed behind her onto the platform holding her hand like a little kid.

She turned back to look at me. “What’s that?”

“Where we’re going.”

“On a date. Duh.”

“No, I mean, like… It’s sorta like a mystery tour.”

“What’s that?”

“Where your tour guide doesn’t tell you where you’re going in advance.”

“That sounds fun. Could be like a prank.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

On any other day, my sister would’ve glared at me and said, “Where’d you learn that from? The internet?” She was being strange today. Nice! But strange. I wasn’t complaining; I liked nice people.

“I wish you were like this more often,” I said—out loud, as I realized too late.

My sister did not appreciate my accidental candor. “Some thoughts are best kept to ourselves, Oneechan.”

“Sorry.”

“It speaks volumes of how you see me.”

“What, accurately?”

“You just lost a date point.” She wagged a finger at me.

“What are date points?”

“When you go on a date, your job is to make sure your partner has a good time. Maybe you act a little differently. Maybe you say a few compliments you don’t really mean. It’s valid, ’cause you want them to enjoy your company and feel a little fluttery around you. Ta-da: Haruna’s theory of dating.”

“Well, it certainly sounds valid.”

“Here, let me give you another tip. A freebie.”

My sister turned and looked at me. Like, look looked at me. Stared me down the way girlfriends do when it’s your one-year anniversary and they’re waiting for you to whip out the present.

My heart started thumping like a jackrabbit. “Um, you good?”

I was not going to admit how much she flustered me. My sister said she was acting a little differently, right? That explained it.

I smiled—awkwardly, but I managed it. “W-wow, Haruna,” I said. “You’re always cute, but today you blow me away.”

And she…

…she took it completely straight-faced. She stared at me. I stared at her. Um, could she say something already?!

She patted my shoulder. “Plus two date points.”

“Woo! Back in the positive digits!”

“If you’d kept going, I would’ve awarded you three.”

“Noted!”

(To herself, my sister muttered, “Maybe we should’ve done date practice earlier… Not that it matters, now that she and you-know-who broke up.” Never mind that we didn’t!)

“Anyway,” my sister said, with her best top-notch girlfriend smile, “you’re getting the hang of it—insincere compliments and all. Don’t sweat it too much. Dating’s all a matter of playing pretend anyway. The whole point’s having what fun you can from romantic things, right?”

“I don’t agree.”

“Hm?”

I looked away. “About the insincere thing. I wasn’t just giving you lip service. You…really do look cute today.”

“Oh ho.” My sister put her hand to her chin. “Three points to Renako.”

“Oh, come on. I wasn’t saying that for points.”

“Another point-worthy line.”

“Argh! This dating thing is too complicated for me.”

It made my head ache. Maybe it was best if I just shut up.

My little sister burst out laughing. The only times she truly looked her age was when she was laughing or asleep. The rest of the time, she was too grown up. Too pretty, too powerful. The cream of the Amaori crop.

Me, I was wearing the clothes I’d bought with her just the other day. But while I was dressed okay, there was something special about her outfit. She just had style. You never got the sense that she wouldn’t know what fashion was if it bit her in the butt. She could even pass for a high schooler. She might even have looked more grown-up than me… Say it ain’t so…

But maybe it was for the best that my instructor in all things fashion was a spiffier dresser than me. She could just look a little less spiffy when standing next to me. Please.

“Hey, Haruna?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Are you seeing someone right now?”

We’d never talked about her dating life before. It was kind of an embarrassing topic.

My sister turned bright red. “E-excuse me?”

“I’m only asking ’cause, like, you seem to know what you’re doing.”

I would’ve bought anything at this point. She could’ve been like, “Yeah, I’m dating a college guy,” and I would’ve gone, “Yeah, I can see that for you.”

My sister squeezed my hand in an effort to hide her embarrassment. “…Not exactly.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’ve never dated anyone.”

Whoa. Okay, now that was a surprise.

“I’ve been too busy with sports and academics and stuff. Friends. Hobbies. Where would I have the time?” said the girl who could make time. (I’m just saying, she could.)

But maybe time wasn’t the real issue. Who would be worthy of dating my sister? No doubt she had higher standards than me.

“Gotcha,” I said. I put on my biggest, brightest, beautifulest smile. “Once you start seeing someone, you should bring them home! I want to meet them.”

“Why do I not believe you?”

Yeah, why do you not believe me? I said hi to Seira-san and Minato-san! Like a respectable member of society and everything!

But maybe she had a point. “Come to think of it, your future girlfriend would be like…outgoing squared. Knows what she wants and gets it. Couldn’t be me—I’d be terrified of her.”

Knowing my sister, she’d bring home someone like the beauty salon lady. I could hear the squealing and “Bestie!!!”s from here…

My sister gave me a funny look. “Um…?”

“Yeah?”

“You do know I’m not into girls, right?”

“Huh?”

Oh shit. That’s right. Why did I assume my sister would date a girl? Completely unconsciously too.

My sister looked uncomfortable and mumbled under her breath, “Maybe it’s to be expected, coming from you.”

“Don’t be like that!” I shook my head, furious. “I’m not into girls. I’m just. You know. Every person I’ve ever dated may have been a girl, but what does that mean in the grand scheme of things? I’m not into girls. I’m not!”

“How old were you when you realized you like girls, Oneechan?”

“We are not close enough for you to ask me that question. And I don’t like girls!”

My sister chose to interpret that as me lying through my teeth. But I wasn’t! I didn’t like girls!

I kept insisting my lack of feelings for the fairer sex right up to our destination, a ten-minute walk from the train station—an oasis of nature in the heart of the city.

My sister’s eyes twinkled like a toddler meeting Santa for the first time. “It’s the zoo!” she squealed.

Yes indeedy. Heh heh heh!

She spun around and, in her excitement, dragged me along with her. Eep?

“Oh my God, it’s been years since I came here! What’s the occasion, huh?”

Oh no… Pretty, happy girl… Help. Too dazzling. I was going to fall into her eyes and never crawl back out.

“You said you liked the zoo. Way back when,” I croaked.

“Yes! I love it!”

My sister was, as you might have guessed by now, a big zoo fan. Back when we were kids, we had to drag her out come closing time. She parked herself in front of the red panda exhibit and refused to budge. But that was years ago—when she was barely in elementary school—and I hadn’t been sure she still held that same love for zoos. It was kinda cute watching her jump around now. I started feeling enthusiastic too.

“Does this win me any date points?” I asked.

“Thirty thousand!”

“Damn, the location choice makes or breaks a date…”

“Whatever. Let’s go buy tickets! Go, go, we gotta get in line!”

My smugness reached unfathomable levels. I held my phone aloft. “Actually, I already bought them online. All we have to do is scan this at the ticket counter.”

“Oneechan!!! …Is that really you, Oneechan?”

Huh? Who else would I be?

“It’s the least I could do,” I said. “Especially when I’m lucky enough to take you out.”

“You’re laying it on too thick.” But she still gave me a playful slap on the back. That was such a familiar, romantic gesture my heart gave a funny little flip.

“You ready to go in?”

“I was born ready.”

She linked arms with me and sailed off. (This was not exactly conducive to walking.)

The zoo was just as I remembered it from our trip as kids. With a map on one arm and a sister on the other, we made our merry way around the whole zoo.

“It’s an ELEPHANT! It’s huge!” my sister squealed. Her vocabulary was quickly reverting to that of a preschooler. “It’s a mommy and baby monkey! They’re eating LEAVES!” She barely noticed the crowds. She scooched up close to the fence at every exhibit and squeed. “Look! It’s a tiger! Eek!”

“It’s okay,” I told her. “He’s inside his cage. He won’t hurt you!”

“He’s so biiig! And scary looking!” She paid no attention to my babytalk and pressed her face to the pen. “Grrr!”

My sister was big into big animals, if you’ll pardon the pun. Big carnivores especially—she said she liked her animals tough. I only sort of got it. It was the exotic factor, I suppose.

I had a blast comparing my normally mature sister with her new, three-year-old-esque behavior. (I mean this in a good way.)

“Look at its big teefies! It could nom a person in one BITE! Coool…” Um? Was she jealous of it? How power-hungry are you, Haruna…

“You never go to the zoo with your friends?” I asked her.

She looked at me like I’d just called her Switch an NES. “Of course not. Going to the zoo is for kids!”

Yes? And you are a kid, are you not?

“We go to cafés and stuff,” she added. “At best, maybe the aquarium.”

“Sure,” I said. “Aquariums are a prime hang-out spot. But why not the zoo?”

“Because zoos are more little-kid-oriented, y’know? Plus, all the walking gets tiring after a while. It can be too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. And animals stink.”

She rattled off that list like she wasn’t having the time of her life.

Then she looked up at me and grinned. “Besides, I’d never goof off like this in front of my friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s too immature.”

Maybe so. My sister had her image to protect. She was always so put together, after all.

“But you don’t mind looking immature in front of me?” I said.

My sister gave me a deer-in-the-headlights look. “Why would I? You’re my sister.”

Like that explained everything. Not.

I may have been wrong, but I felt like she didn’t have this level of trust with any of our other family members—aw, who was I kidding? If she’d trusted me, she would’ve opened up to me ages ago. And that stung.

My sister giggled, oblivious to the pain in my heart. “I could always go alone, but you know. I’m just glad I get to see the animals again after so long.”

“Well…then I’m glad for you.”

And I meant it, but my sister looked at me funny. “What about you?”

“Huh?” She gave me a long look, apropos of nothing, and I raised my hands in defense. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying myself too. I like animals.”

“Then act like it! I wanna see some pep in that step! C’mon.”

“Huh?!” Girl, that was too big of an ask.

But I tried. I raised both hands in the air—sorta. In a low-key, dying inside way. “Woo…hoo? This is so fun…”

My sister had more than a few criticisms. “Stop letting your shame get the better of you! The animals are working too. This is like a customer service job for them—and no one likes serving unhappy customers.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works…”

“Look! The poor tigey-wigey is going into his den because you didn’t enjoy the show. Now look what you did.”

“Woo-hoo! I’m having the time of my life!!!”

“Project from your stomach! And smile, dammit!”

“THE TIME! OF! MY LIFE!”

“Pipe down, Oneechan. Look, you scared the tiger away.”

“You little—friggen-fraggen—frickin—”

Could I deduct date points from her? Put her in the negatives?

“Right. On to the polar bears!” my sister announced. “And I want to see another one of those smiles!”

“Woo-hoo!!!”

Was I playacting her girlfriend or her marionette?

My sister put me through my paces until my smiling muscles cramped up. I was officially woo-hooed out.

We ate lunch while watching the seals and letting our feet rest. We got a chance to see the giraffes up close (did you know how HUGE those things get?). We dove in and out of the crowds, never getting bored. We roamed the park from top to bottom, from the farthest corners of the reptile house to the furthest reaches of the aviary. She and I had the time of our lives.

By the time we looked up to catch our breath, the zoo was almost ready to close. Time flew by at the same brisk pace as the date in Odaiba with Mai and my hang-out with Ajisai-san at the amusement park.

We made one last circuit around the park and wound up in front of the tiger enclosure again.

“It’s too bad,” my sister remarked out of nowhere.

“What is?”

“That we didn’t get to see any koalas. They’re your favorite.”

“Oh. Yeah.” The zoo didn’t have any. I was a little disappointed, but I’d live. “We weren’t here for me anyway. Today was all about you.”

“A little too on the nose. Zero points for you.”

“I wasn’t trying to get points.” I smiled, a bit sheepishly.

“You racked up a pretty good total today regardless,” she said.

“Did I? I wasn’t counting.”

“Well, maybe you did, and maybe you didn’t.” She giggled. Wait. Hello? How was I supposed to interpret that?

My sister made a big show of stretching. “Point is, you did a good job. Better than I thought you would. Like, way better. You’re a disaster on our shopping trips.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, I mean it. You’re a total bump on a log at home. I forget you have the ability to be anything else.”

“Gee, thanks ×2.”

My sister laughed, having successfully pushed all my buttons. Twerp. Well, what the hell. At least she had fun.

Because this was when the not fun conversation would start.

“Hey, Haruna?” I said.

She turned those big, shining eyes on me. “Yes?” She had the look of a student who knew it was long past time to go home but refused to leave her desk.

“I heard about what’s happening at school.”

Haruna’s smile dimmed but didn’t vanish entirely. “What happened to the promise you made this morning?”

“…It’s still a thing.”

“So, are you going to break it?” There wasn’t anger in her voice. Just sadness.

My heart ached worse than ever, but I nodded all the same. “Yeah. I am.”

My sister sighed, and it sounded like defeat. “God, Oneechan, why do you gotta be this way? We’re gonna feel awkward the whole way home. Can’t you at least wait until we get in the door? You just don’t know when to quit.”

She laughed like she was agreeing with herself. Because, yeah, I didn’t. We all knew that.

“I had so much fun today and everything,” she went on. “Was this all a setup so you could call me out about school? The points and everything?”

I didn’t say anything, and that was answer enough for her. She pointed at me and grinned. “Fine. Your final, final total is zero points.”

“All right. That doesn’t change anything.” My voice fell. “Still…I think I made my position clear.”

“And what was this position of yours?”

My answer came out in several awkward chunks. “That I… Well. That I love you. I love you a lot, Haruna.”

My sister fell silent, stunned.

Today’s outing was a far cry from any of our many other hangouts. The difference hinged on one major thing: Today was for her. Not for me. She was always helping me—taking me to the salon, teaching me how to shop, whatever. Haruna moved heaven and earth for me, and I had never been able to begin to return the favor.

So it was no wonder she didn’t trust me. Words didn’t buy trust. If I wanted to break down the walls around Haruna’s heart, it would have to be through actions.

And maybe this was all for that self-love thing I talked about earlier. Maybe this was nothing more than an ego boost. But so what if it was? Haruna was a part of me, and it’d been that way since she was born.

“Here,” I said. I pulled a small package out of my backpack—a thing I’d bought when my sister’s back was turned.

My sister took it and, almost with reluctance, unwrapped it. A round wolf plush dangling on the end of a key chain peeked out of the wrappings.

“I thought you’d like it,” I said by way of explanation. “It seemed like your style.”

“A wolf?”

“Yeah.”

My sister sighed; I’d deflected some of her anger. “I know that one stuffed animal in my room you’re thinking of, but it’s not a wolf.”

“It’s not?”

“No. It’s a dingo.”

“I had no idea.”

Dingoes were basically dogs. Wild dogs that lived in Australia. Close, but no cigar.

“I can go back and return it,” I offered.

“I already opened it. It’s fine.”

“Oh. Okay.” Goddammit. I’d fumbled that one, hard.

I tried to push us back onto the topic at hand—messily. “A-anyway, that’s why I’m asking. I may be a promise-breaking, points-hounding, terrible older sister. But you know I can’t get by unless you’re your usual, happy self. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back to the old Haruna.”

So much for the cool, mature, older sister role I’d played all day. I’d fumbled that one too.

I screwed up all my courage. “I have to tell you something important, Haruna!”

There. That was the warning. I looked at my sister. She looked back, the wolf key chain in her hands. It was gonna be okay, I told myself. This was all going to work out in the end. All the setup would pay off, and Haruna would finally see things from my perspective. She had to.

But God, was I nervous.

“I talked to Seira-san and Minato-san the other day,” I said. “And they told me you’re not talking to anyone in class. And I—I asked them. About why you got mad at Minato-san. And it turns out it was my fault after all.”

Haruna did not respond. Not with one word.

So I pressed on, knowing that it was to help both of us. Believing in the mutual good that could come of it. “I just want to ask. Why did you stop going to school? And why aren’t you talking to your classmates?”

And why, oh why, was my upright, perfect, totally functional sister holding on to secrets too shameful to tell anyone else?

“Can’t you tell me?” I begged. “Can’t you tell your big sister?”

Haruna folded her arms. She closed her eyes for no longer than a second. Sighed. And then her entire demeanor shifted.

“Fine,” she said. “Cat’s out of the bag. Might as well get it off my chest.”

This was the part where she should have given in. In the movies, this was when the criminal finally ’fessed up and told the detective their motive. And yet there was a fake, almost cheerful tone in Haruna’s voice that didn’t fit this scene playing out in front of me.

“I’ll spill,” she said. “Because you know so much anyway. But you gotta understand—it’s not what you’re trying to do but why you’re trying to do it.”

I didn’t follow. I frowned. “…Okay.” I may not have understood, but I wanted to hear.

Haruna squeezed the key chain tight in one fist and grinned. “You know it would affect me if people found out you’re a loser, right?”

“…Huh?”

“Think about it. I put so much effort into getting you back into school—making you normal again. Aren’t I entitled to a little something nice for a change?”

For a change? For a change?

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Imagine you have an older sister who’s bright and outgoing. One of the most popular kids in school. Friends with celebrities. That’d make the little sister something special too. You follow me so far?”

A wave of groundless feelings swept over me. “No way,” I said. “You can’t mean that. You’re always telling me not to help people just to get favors.”

“Yeah, well. Look who I learned it from.”

“…I don’t believe you. If this was true, I think you’d feel guilty for lying when your friends found out the truth. Not…angry.”

“Maybe I was just lashing out. Ever think about that?”

“I don’t believe it for one minute.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

If this wasn’t just an act—if this was the real Haruna—then everything I knew about my sister was a lie. That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

“Your friends did find out, though,” I pressed. “Minato-san said as much. She knows I used to be a loser and a loner. Her older sister was one of my classmates in junior high. It’s too late for you to say anything otherwise.”

“Rumors,” she said, brushing me off. “All you have to do is prove them wrong.”

She clenched her fist in a show of encouragement, but it was too forced to be real. Haruna had just switched one mask for another. Did she think she could fool me?

“It’s too late for that,” I insisted. “Minato-san’s sister is Nashiji Komachi-san. She…”

…was the girl who started the collective class effort to freeze me out.

Nothing Haruna or I could do would put this proverbial cat back in its bag. The secret was out.

“Yes?” said Haruna. Her smile unnerved me. “She what?”

I flinched, panicked, and switched the topic. “Never mind. Just, if my old classmates keep talking about me, it’ll be too late to do anything.”

“Don’t be so quick to assume that. You’re always such a pessimist! You don’t believe in yourself. Don’t you think that’s weird?” She folded her arms and glared back at me. “We won’t know until we try. I won’t give up on you. I’ll watch you like a hawk and make sure you pull through. Don’t let me down.”

Haruna could stay meek and mousey forever. Or I could go live my life, have an amazing time in high school, and wait for the rumors to die out.

But what if they didn’t? What if they spread beyond my old junior high school? What if everyone in Ashigaya High found out that I was a socially awkward weirdo? The Quintet might not care. But other people would.

Ex-dropout, ex-bully bait, ex-mental-breakdown queen. Once those rumors spread, all the goodwill I’d earned via my Quintet reputation would vanish. All the people who had supported me in the interclass basketball competition would drift away. Old friends would talk about me behind my back. Maybe they’d call me a jumped-up loser to my face. Maybe shame would return and come home to stay.

I didn’t believe that other people were good at heart. I couldn’t be optimistic and assume that everything would work out all right in the end. No matter how bad things got, there would always be someone out there to…sympathize? Ha. More like kick you when you’re down. The world was full of cheaters, line-cutters, shit-talkers, and backstabbers. Showing weakness was an open invitation for torment—jaws of malice, bite here, please! I would’ve loved to say I could weather anything so long as I had my friends. But I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t lie. Not me.

But.

“But if you keep acting this way, Haruna—”

“You have no right to worry about me, Oneechan. Not after the stunts you pull.”

Yeah, I’d heard that all before. All that cocky bullshit. I can do it. I’m not you, Oneechan. Was any of that true? Was she simply lifting the world on her shoulders so I wouldn’t have to carry its burden? For, what, years now?

“It’s fine,” she had told me in the bath. “Worry about yourself, you know? You have your own glow-up and good friends to pay attention to.”

Had she just been teasing me? Or was there more to it than that?

I grabbed Haruna’s wrist. Maybe everything would come crashing down around me. Maybe I’d have to deal with the consequences of everything that made me, me. Maybe my life would get harder—but if that’s what it took to set Haruna straight, so be it.

“Wh-what?” she said.

“I’m going to tell everyone at school tomorrow.”

“You what?”

I looked Haruna right in the eye. “I’m going to tell them that I had a mental breakdown and stopped going to school in junior high.”

A beat.

Then Haruna lunged and grabbed my collar. “What the hell are you saying?”

She knew I was serious. She could tell—’cause we were sisters.

I was terrified, but I stuck to my guns and looked her right in the eyes. “Then there will be no more point in you sticking to your stubborn silence. Right?”

Then her plan would go down the drain.

“You—you’re so stupid! You throwing yourself under the bus helps nobody.” She loomed in my face, so threatening I took a step back. “Least of all me.”

My heart rate hammered, but I felt calmer with every passing minute. “You don’t trust me to help you, huh?”

“I’m doing this for me, Oneechan! Me! I’m propping myself up. There’s no reason for you to out yourself. It won’t do you any good!”

“Yes, it will,” I insisted. “It will pay back some of what I owe you.”

“You’re an idiot!” She pushed me away so hard I fell back on my butt, staining my brand-new clothes. My sister carried on, oblivious to me now. “I hate this—this self-imposed martyrdom!”

“Then why are you doing the same thing?”

“Huh?”

“You say this is all for you—I don’t believe it for one minute. You can do anything, Haruna. You’re choosing to martyr yourself instead. It’s to protect me, isn’t it?”

“No!” she spat. Fire danced in her eyes and erupted from her mouth in a shower of sparks. “I would never go to such lengths for you. And I won’t ever, ever let you do this to yourself.”

But that wasn’t the end of her fury. “I’ll get the matches,” she promised.

“You’ll what?”

“If you out yourself, I’ll burn the house down.”

“Whoa. Let’s calm down now.” I scrambled to my feet and grabbed Haruna by the shoulders, shaking her.

“I mean it!”

I had never seen Haruna this furious in all my life. I half expected my fingers to crumble to ash where I touched her. What had possessed her with such intensity?

“I mean it, Oneechan,” she repeated.

And then she pulled out of my grip, spun away, and left me there. The anger she injected into her words charred my heart, and the fire continued to smolder long after she was gone.

***

My life with Haruna was one long list of fights. We started fighting right out of the womb and never stopped. Some people say this is common in sisters close in age, but I don’t know if that was it. I think Haruna’s strong personality prevented her from budging an inch on anything. Until I learned to give up without a fight, we butted heads from dawn till dusk.

Haruna was only ever cute to me when she was really, really little. From then on, she was always getting the better of me, always ready with a fresh insult or pointed remark. She got into my clothes and makeup. She poked fun at every little thing I did. Every time people compared me to her—her, who could do no wrong—I got a little more depressed.

There was nothing good about having a sister. You couldn’t say goodbye and go home when you’d had enough of her, like with friends. You could never be rid of her. You had to sit in her proximity and suffer.

And all that is true—which made me wonder why it was impossible for me to mind my own business. Even the day after the zoo trip, when I was so mad at her I was ready to kill her, I still loved her more than anyone else in my life. Amaori Haruna—my one and only sister. Blood of my blood. My other self.

Why wouldn’t she let me out myself? She flipped the script on me. I wouldn’t let her isolate herself.

Here’s one more fact for the road: Just as Haruna was my little sister, I was Haruna’s big sister. And I was mad. I never knew I could be this furious.

Behold: the sister squabble of the century. The fight of all fights that would rage until we’d spent the fuel of every bit of pent-up emotion inside of us. What was our end game? Who was it for? I didn’t even know anymore. I didn’t need a reason to be mad. I was done with having reasons.

If Haruna was serious, so was I. If she meant it, then so did I.

Oh, yes. Haruna was going to get a taste of her own medicine.

***

The trip to the zoo felt like it had happened in another lifetime—but it was yesterday.

Now I took all my friends up to the roof at lunch, sat them down, and filled them in on everything.

“Your class reunion?” Mai, Ajisai-san, and Kaho-chan repeated back to me in perfect harmony.

“Yup.” I smiled, but it took real effort. I couldn’t let the Quintet see the mass of ugly feelings boiling in my gut. “I’ll go into more detail later. There’s something else I need to share first.”

Waiting for a response would only increase my anxiety, so I took a deep breath and plunged on. “Here’s the thing. Back in junior high, I had a mental health problem and stopped going to class. I used to have no people skills and struggled with making friends.”

Here it was. The first step. Me dumping all the dirty contents of my junior high career on my four friends.

My four friends reacted as follows:

§ “Whoa!” Kaho-chan’s eyes widened in shock.

Hello? Was that it?!

I rounded on Ajisai-san. “Don’t just sit there! Say something.”

“Oh! Um, okay.” She nodded. “Thanks for telling us.”

Clearly, she was too shocked for words and was struggling to wrap her head around this new information. Except she didn’t look shocked in the slightest. Because she wasn’t.

Are you kidding me? They already knew? Then what was all my acting for?!

The only one with any genuine surprise was Kaho-chan. “No way! You’ve been the most outgoing person I’ve known since, like, forever!”

I could’ve gone “LOL tricked ya” but I didn’t. I was a crappy liar, to be frank, and Kaho-chan was the only one who fell for it.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I’m really not outgoing. And I’m really, really sorry for lying.”

“No way. No. Flipping. Way. Literally how?”

“Ugh, I’m sorry…”

The anger that I had hoped would power me through this conversation chose this inopportune moment to fizzle out. I could only focus it at my sister, and I felt terrible for betraying Kaho-chan’s trust. The guilt was tearing me to shreds.

Satsuki-san lightly bopped Kaho-chan on the head. “If you keep yelling at her, lunch will end before she finishes her story. Save the blame game for later. Well, Amaori? What’s next?”

“Um. Sorry, I just… Do you mind if I grovel and apologize for a sec?”

“Do it on your own time. I repeat: What’s next?”

Kaho-chan still had (a lot of) words for me, but Meeting Chair Satsuki said it was time to move things along, so the apology would have to wait. God, the guilt was killing me. Maybe this was my punishment for lying.

“You see, um… I think my sister’s recent weird behavior is about me.”

My hands were tied. I couldn’t out myself to society—knowing my sister, her arson threat was more than empty words. And now that I had backed down, I didn’t know what to do. I’d lost the standoff.

I looked from one friend to the next. “To help her, I need to make it like the past never happened.”

Lord knows I’d tried. But we could only change the future. I couldn’t scrub away my past mistakes—or so people said. But was this true?

My sister had said, “Don’t be so quick to assume that. You’re always such a pessimist! You don’t believe in yourself. Don’t you think that’s weird? We won’t know until we try.” I hated to listen to her, but maybe she was right.

“If I turn back the clock and make it so I was never a loser, then my sister’s stupid plan will be ruined. It’s just math.” I channeled my inner Satsuki-san and grinned. “Not that she deserves it. Bitch.”

“Renako-chan, watch your language,” Ajisai-san chided, not unkindly.

“Right. Sorry.” I put that immaturity behind me. I could only focus my anger at my sister etc., etc.

Mai had been the quietest participant in the conversation until now, when she asked, “But what do you hope to do, Renako? Surely not build a time machine.”

“We could only be so lucky,” Satsuki-san interjected. “I wish I could go back and see what I’d be like had I never met you.”

Mai chuckled and gave Satsuki-san a fond Oh, you! look. Mai, that wasn’t a joke…

“No time machines,” I said. Even if I could go back in time and rescue my wayward self from isolating loserhood, I wouldn’t. That would erase my reason to test into Ashigaya High—the place where I had made all my friends. The place where I was as happy as I’d ever been. Like hell would I give that up. “That’s where this comes in.”

This: the topic I’d started the conversation with.

“Your invitation to the class reunion?” Ajisai-san asked.

“I left, to be brutally frank, very little impression on the majority of my classmates,” I said. It took real guts to admit this, but my anger propelled me through. “I doubt any of them remember me. So here’s my plan: I leave them with a whole new impression of me. I show up looking like a superstar and prove how cool I am in high school, and they’ll walk away thinking I was always this awesome.”

I thrust my hand out to preempt any interjections. “I am aware this is ridiculous. But! This will destroy the source of any bad rumors before they spread. It’s the closest thing I’ve got to a time machine.”

My friends exchanged dubious looks. However, much to my surprise, the first person to speak was in support of my idea. “I suppose that could work.” And get this—it was from Satsuki-san.

“No way,” I said. “The omnipresent voice of dissent speaking up in support? This is a once in a lifetime miracle.”

“I could always retract my statement.”

“Please don’t! But I’m curious why you think it’s a good idea.”

Satsuki-san grimaced; she didn’t want to say. “People have poor memories as a rule. Many of us skip learning from the past in favor of doctoring the past to match the present. All that matters is what we see before us here and now. Impressions hold greater weight than facts. I wouldn’t go so far as to claim one can change the past, but one can certainly influence people’s memories.”

I could hear the impending “but.”

“But…” There it was. “…your plan only works if you leave a strong impression.”

“Thank you so much! I feel so much more confident now.”

I had a chance to wipe away my old image and start fresh, and it was all thanks to my dear, darling, dazzling socially competent friends.

“So could I ask for your help?” I said, looking around the whole group and bowing. “To change my stubborn sister’s stubborn mind. Pretty please?”

It was selfish of me to ask for help when I had lied to them this whole time. All the same, there was no one I trusted more than these four girls.

First to come to my rescue was Ajisai-san, the angel of Ashigaya High. Where would I be without her? “I would love to help,” she said, “but what do you want me to do?”

“Ain’t it obvious?” Kaho-chan said. “We send Maimai or Saa-chan to the reunion claiming to be Rena-chin. Duh.”

“No one would buy that,” Ajisai-san shot back. (Even her comebacks were adorable. Ahh!)

“You sure? We could put a name tag on ’em.”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea. How could they keep their story straight? They didn’t know Renako-chan in junior high.”

“Just give ’em a hidden mic with Rena-chin on the other end. Like a spy mission! Ooh, this could be fun.”

“I don’t think so, Kaho-chan… It hasn’t even been a year since she last saw these people.” Ajisai-san frowned, genuinely concerned. She was taking the job a lot more seriously than Kaho-chan, at any rate. Ah, clowning Kaho-chan and straight man Ajisai-san… Peace and love on the planet Ashigaya.

As much as I enjoyed watching the show, I didn’t want Kaho-chan to convince Ajisai-san of her less than scrupulous methods. So I stepped in to mediate. “I appreciate the thought, Kaho-chan,” I said. “But I think we’re barking up the wrong tree with this whole spy thing.”

“You sure?”

Mai shot me a knowing grin.

“I really appreciate the enthusiasm, gang,” I said. “But I need to handle this myself for a change.”

“For a change, she says.” (That was Satsuki-san, in case you had any doubt.) “Meaning you’ll continue to beg for our assistance at every available opportunity.”

Ouch! She wasn’t wrong, but ouch!

“Maybe so!” I said, rallying mightily. “But I want to do it. Me. Myself.” I slapped my chest for emphasis. “It’s my fight with my sister.”

Selfish desires be damned, I wanted to go to my class reunion myself!

Ajisai-san giggled. “I see where your sister gets her stubborn streak from.”

“Eep.”

She didn’t mean it in a bad way, though. There was warmth in her eyes. “I get it. Family can bring out our stubborn sides. It’s nice seeing you care so much for your sister.”

Satsuki-san shrugged. “Yes, I suppose I understand too. There are times when one can’t afford to be picky about their means of seizing victory. When dreading being outdone or facing a rival, say.” (That last part was directed at Mai.)

“It’s not that surprising, I guess,” Kaho-chan said. “You’ve had your demanding moments before. Loads of ’em. I could bundle ’em all up in a bouquet big enough to hold in both arms.”

I flushed; Mai and Ajisai-san exchanged amused looks over my head.

“I would imagine you have an idea of how we might offer you help, then,” Mai said.

“I do.”

My mission? To leave a strong, positive impression on my classmates. To clear the expert difficulty dungeon known as a class reunion. I needed to level grind. I needed to unlock strong abilities. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, and I didn’t have enough time to build Rome.

So I needed a sword, a shield, a suit of armor, and a magical charm. I needed the very best equipment to give me powerful stats—never mind my level!

“Here’s the thing, gang.” I kneeled on the rooftop and pressed my head to the concrete in supplication. “I’m begging you to make me the best possible version of myself overnight!”

***

The dreaded day arrived.

The organizers had reserved us a spot in an Italian restaurant in my old part of town—one of those buffet setups, the kind where you mill around and chat with people while you eat. A good choice for a reunion.

Class reunions happen as frequently as the organizers are willing to throw them. Considering it’d been a few measly months since we graduated, our organizers were evidently very willing. (You’ll forgive me that I didn’t remember who they were.)

Most people hadn’t gone far from our local neighborhood, so the RSVP list was a thicket of yeses. Kids were excited to come back looking a little more grown-up, check in with old friends, see how everybody was doing.

A rhythmic clack, clack, clack of high heels drew all eyes to the door with the same expectation as applause before the start of a ceremony. The doors swung wide, revealing a dazzling, brilliantly dressed girl. She turned a radiant smile on her excited, whispering classmates.

“It’s so good to see you all again!” she enthused.

She was transformed into a thing of beauty. She was Amaori Renako. She was me.

***

Let’s rewind and explain how the heck I got here. Vrrrrrrrrp… (That’s, uh, the sound of the film rewinding.)

Obviously, there was no way to turn me into a Pretty Woman™, inside and out, within a week. Richard Gere couldn’t have done if it he’d tried. Failing that, we went for all style and no substance. They say clothes make the man, and I figured they could make the woman too! Get dressed up nice-ish, people perceive you as nice-ish. And nice-ish was good enough for me! I wasn’t asking for much—all I needed was to look nice-ish for one night.

We started with my suit of armor.

“Hmm… Let’s see. The right outfit for a class reunion,” Mai mused. The other three of us (Satsuki-san was at work) crowded into her bedroom behind her.

“Omg!!!” Kaho-chan bounced around like a bunny in a carrot patch. She was thrilled to hang out at Mai’s house. “Everything in this apartment is huge. Are you descended from giants?! Is your full height gonna be, what, four meters someday? Is that what all this space is for?”

“Don’t be rude,” I told her before I thought better of it, but Mai didn’t mind.

She just smiled at Kaho-chan. “It’s such a treat to have so many friends over.”

“I could come over every day if you want!”

“That would be delightful.”

Kaho-chan wrapped herself around one of Mai’s arms in giddy joy. Every day, though? Kaho-chan… Whatever, I wasn’t going to get involved. It wasn’t my business. (But dude.)

“Can I take a selfie?!”

“By all means, but please don’t post it online.”

“I would never, Maimai. A momentary blip of internet approval is so not worth losing your trust over.”

“Very calculating of you,” I commented.

I didn’t see the point of taking a selfie she couldn’t share, but whatever. Maybe it was for the thrill of spotting it while she was scrolling through her camera roll. I wasn’t a photo person, so this was all Greek to me—I was not well versed in the ways of the youths. Then again, I did hold on to and admire screenshots of Legends I picked… Okay, you know what? I get it, Kaho-chan.

“Welcome to my closet,” Mai said.

“Ooh! This is incredible!” Ajisai-san took up the mantle of squeeing from Kaho-chan, because Kaho-chan was too busy drinking up the sights.

“Maimai’s closet…! I can feel my wallet draining just looking at it!”

“Oh, I love your organization system… It must come with being a model!”

“I wanna watch Maimai try on everything here!”

“Same!”

They gushed like two girls getting to shake the hand of their favorite idol. Cute—but I felt left out. Was I missing a key component of being a teenage girl? Was I not, dare I say, a cookie-cutter model of a teenage girl? Nonsense. People could like whatever they liked. That’s called diversity, baby. If this had been Mai’s computer room? Yeah, I would’ve squeed my head off. “Ooh, what are its benchmarks?! No way! That’s so hardcore. Oh my God, that stable graphics frame rate. Yaaas, queen. Give me that 8k high-def monitoooooor.” We were basically identical. Duh.

Mai ignored me stewing in an inexplicable funk of rivalry and crossed to one end of the closet. “Let’s start here. Do any of these fancy dresses catch your eye?”

Oh good, she already had some picked out. Lifesaver Mai over here.

“But Maimai’s got a good ten centimeters on Rena-chin,” Kaho-chan pointed out. “How’s this gonna work?”

“Ah, but we needn’t worry about that. We may need a bit of tailoring—in the waist region, say—but we should otherwise be just fine. Layering can hide her form, or we could try tone-on-tone coordination. Either way, we’ll emphasize the vertical line of Renako’s body.”

“Gotcha!” Ajisai-san gushed. “Can I help pick out shoes?”

Huh. The more you know.

Watching Kaho-chan, Mai, and Ajisai-san mill about me, chattering all the way, made me feel like a dad taking his daughters on a shopping expedition. They were too fashionable for me to keep up. Maybe I just wasn’t built for this teenage girl business.

“What do we think of this?” Mai indicated a long, beautiful ballgown you’d see on a princess in a movie.

“Oh, I love it!” Ajisai-san squealed. She clapped her hands with all the enthusiasm of a little girl still in her princess phase.

“That seems a bit…much,” I said. This was just a junior high reunion, guys. Not a freaking…overseas graduation ball.

“We also have this rather more eye-catching option,” Mai went on. “You’ll be the star of the function for sure.”

This dress was bright red and left nothing to the imagination in the bust and back regions. “Ooh, it’s beautiful! I think that could be our winner,” Ajisai-san said. Slooow down there, girl.

“No! No, no, no,” I protested. “We are not doing that.”

I could deal with Mai, who lacked good sense at the best of times, or hyper melodrama queen Kaho-chan. But Ajisai-san was our voice of reason! Without her grounding good sense, I couldn’t sit back and watch my girls with an air of beatific and detached dadliness.

Mai chuckled. “Are you sure? What if we took it for a test spin just in case?”

“Oh, please! Put it on, Rena-chan! Please, please, please!”

“No! For the last time, no! I wouldn’t fit in the waist, besides.”

Now even Ajisai-san was tugging on my arms. I’d never seen her like this before. Who knew beautiful articles of clothing could have such a hypnotizing effect on teenage girls?

“Kaho-chan, help me here!” I said. “Provide some much-needed sanity!”

She did not. She pulled out her phone and took a photo of us. “Lmao.”

“Kaho-chan!!!”

Fast-forward past my friends putting me through hell. Long story short, we chose a nice, function-appropriate outfit from the designer goods in Mai’s closet.

Earned 1× LEGENDARY ARMOR!

Next up: the shield. While Mai’s armor provided full-body coverage, I still wanted a shield to stop targeted blows to vital, unprotected organs—such as my face.

Hence Kaho-chan and I went over to Ajisai-san’s house. Ah yes, the Sena household…

Ajisai-san spread her whole makeup collection across the living room rug, turning the floor into an explosion of glittery bottles of this and tiny containers of that.

“Ta-da!” She spread her arms wide, rather self-consciously. “After seeing Mai’s closet, I don’t know how much I can help… I’m just a makeup hobbyist, really.”

This was not the closet-addled, teenage-girl-supreme Ajisai-san. This was the down-to-earth girl I knew and loved, and so my heart went out to her.

“No, this is tons of help!” I clenched my fist harder than I had any need to. “Your makeup tutelage is luckier than winning the lottery one hundred times in a row. I am so, so, grateful for your help.”

Ajisai-san’s cheeks puffed up slightly. “Oh, Rena-chan, you tease… You always exaggerate.”

Heh heh!

I stopped myself just before I busted out the compliment couplets. (“I respect you from every angle/Won’t you always be my angel?”) By now I had realized Ajisai-san didn’t always mean what she said.

…Wait, why was she blushing? Did my compliment cheer her up that much? Gosh, she was so cute. But now I felt embarrassed for gushing over my girlfriend. Argh! I quickly looked away.

(Meanwhile, Kaho-chan had struck up a game with the Sena boys. She kept them busy while “Oneechan” taught me her makeup tricks. Good luck, Kaho-chan! Winning over the baby brothers was a difficult task—although surely they had room in their hearts for a second awesome gamer oneechan. Just so long as I was first.)

“Let’s see here…”

Ajisai-san’s pale, slender fingers wandered between two options like a puppy’s wagging tail before she settled on the right bottle.

“Let’s start with your foundation,” she said. “We want to use brighter highlights than your everyday makeup to match the outfit we chose at Mai-chan’s. We’re going to emphasize your eyes, but remember, it has to look balanced when we’re all done.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

No sooner had I nodded than Ajisai-san said, “Can you close your eyes for me?”

“Yes, ma’am! Wait.”

Ajisai-san was getting very close. Um? H-hello?

“Uh…” she said. “I was going to show you how to put it on… Do you have a different idea?”

Oh, was that all it was? I thought the teaching process would involve me doing the work!

“N-no, that’s fine,” I said. I was not misreading her intent. I was so very 100 percent on board with her suggestion. Yes.

“Then…I need you to close your eyes, okay?”

“Sure…thing?”

Oh no. I was so very 100 percent not on board. This was far too embarrassing. Duh!

“You can’t leave them open,” she said. Her admonishment was so gentle I wanted to dieeee. Even with my eyes closed, I could still hear her! She was right there! So close! Oh my God! I couldn’t stop thinking about us kissing!!!

(Kaho-chan cackled in the background. “I win! Come back when you’re ready to play with the big kids.”

“No fair!”

“I’m gonna win the next one!”)

Oh yes. We were in Ajisai-san’s living room—thank God. We had little sibling witnesses present—thank God. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it’d just been me and her alone in her room.

Ajisai-san put her hand on my cheek to hold it in place and dabbed on a smear of foundation. “And there…we…go. How does it feel, Rena-chan? Does it hurt?”

“N-no, I’m okay,” I managed to say at last. “Nothing hurting here.”

I heard a giggle. “Good.”

Oh hell. I couldn’t do this. Little sibling witnesses or no, I could not handle Ajisai-san doing my makeup for me. My head felt ready to explode from embarrassment.

(“Hey!” Kaho-chan snapped. “No fair! You aren’t allowed to use moves I don’t know.”

One of the little boys giggled. “Suck it!”)

It literally took every scrap of willpower I had not to scream and disrupt their game. Ajisai-san’s voice was so close. She had to be just centimeters away. If I opened my eyes now, I would turn to stone. I just knew it.

“Rena-chan, you’re squinching up like you’re about to get a shot…” said that horribly close voice.

Oh no. Was I closing my eyes too tightly? Did it look unnatural? “Don’t mind me,” I told her through gritted teeth.

A worried note crept into her voice. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like this is bothering you. Does it tickle?”

Oh, it bothered me all right—it got me hot and bothered!

I didn’t want to look like I was having a terrible time, so I winched the edges of my mouth up into a smile. “N-not at all. Don’t mind me. Just do your thing. Ah ha. Ha. Ha. Ha ha ha.”

“O-okay…? I don’t do other people’s makeup often, so you just let me know if something bothers you.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Not once in my entire existence had I responded to the dreaded beauty salon phrase of “You just let me know if something bothers you.” They could slip me a truth serum and I’d still go “Nope! I’m just peachy.” All you had to do was convince the stylist you would say something were it to come up. Then you wouldn’t have to lie or ever make a peep! The human experience was subjective. It all came down to how other people saw you!

Ajisai-san’s hands kept roaming around my face. She traced circles around my eyes, danced over my eyelids, caressed the curvature of my lips… My life did not include a lot of other people touching me. And Ajisai-san’s fingers. Hoo. God, those were gentle fingers.

This wasn’t like the time the lady at the department store did my makeup. She was a professional; I thought nothing of her being right in my face. Well—not nothing nothing. She was too pretty for me to feel absolutely nothing. But in the end, she was just doing her job. And this also wasn’t like the time Kaho-chan did my makeup for the cosplay contest. I was so nervous about the contest I had no time to fret over Kaho-chan. (Not to mention Kaho-chan was more in-and-out than Ajisai-san.)

This was Ajisai-san. My girlfriend. A girl I’d kissed. Oh no—putting it in those terms just made it worse.

“I’m almost done, Rena-chan,” she promised. “Just be patient with me.”

“Mmrkay,” I managed with my mouth welded shut, in a feat that would’ve made a ventriloquist proud.

Painfully cognizant of Ajisai-san’s shallow breaths puffing against my lips, I counted out a full twenty seconds. (Longest twenty seconds of my life. Felt like five hours.)

At last, Ajisai-san patted my shoulders and said, “I’m done.”

I opened my eyes.

“What do you think?” she asked, handing me the mirror.

I looked. I looked again. “Is this…me?”

It was a literal before and after moment.

In compliance with my request to favor mature elegance over a youthful look, Ajisai-san had loaded my eyelashes with eyeliner until each blink audibly popped. My lips were bold red. The bridge of my nose stood out in sharp relief courtesy of her highlighter. This was a different Amaori Renako—an Amaori Renako transformed by full makeup. I barely recognized myself, I looked so different.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Ajisai-san, you did an amazing job.”

“Ooh, lemme see,” Kaho-chan said, coming over. She put her hand on my chin and turned me this way and that. Wugh. “She came out cute! Aa-chan, you have great taste.”

“No, I just have good material to work with.” Ajisai-san giggled self-consciously, which was the cutest thing in the world. I had good material to work with.

Ajisai-san went around taking photos of me from every angle like they might do at a beauty salon. I, too, rotated new equipment in games to check out their full 3D rendering, so hey, we were basically twinsies.

I knew I looked different, but I didn’t know if different meant better. Or how much better. Ajisai-san said I looked nice, and I was simply going to have to trust her. And you know what? I’d survived Ajisai-san’s Makeup Time, and that’s what mattered!

“Okay! Could you do this again for me on the day of the reunion?” I asked, turning to Ajisai-san with a grin.

“Oh no, we’re not done yet,” she responded.

“Huh?”

She grimaced a little and lifted a makeup remover sheet. “I need to try out a few other styles. You asked, and I can’t let you down.”

“I think it’s perfect already.”

“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head. The look in her eyes was deadly serious. “I haven’t brought out your full potential.”

“Ajisai-san?”

Who was this, and what had they done with Ajisai-san? I’d expect a line like that from a mecha pilot climbing back into their newest model—not Ajisai-san!

“Have faith, Rena-chan,” she said. “I’ll make you the prettiest girl in the world or die trying!”

She clenched her fists. Fierce determination blazed in her eyes.

“…Um. Do your…worst…?”

I was powerless to resist. Let the potential extraction commence!

The sounds of Kaho-chan and the kiddos’ games floated over the whole time Ajisai-san worked on me. I felt an odd twinge of something—was it jealousy? No, surely not. Never!

Earned 1× IMPERVIOUS SHIELD.

Next up? The magic charm.

Charms provided extra stat boosts or unlocked special skills. Guarded from head to toe by my armor and shield, what did I need most? Confidence.

I expected to gain some confidence from all the admiring glances my new look was going to get. But I needed more. To impress upon everyone that I was truly a socially competent, outgoing, and friendly individual, I needed to gush unconditional confidence.

Remember what I said about Rome? Yeah. Healthy self-esteem couldn’t be built in a day either. Unless I cheated!

“Which is where you come in, Kaho-chan.” I clapped my hands together and bowed to her across the floor of her room. She and I were the only two in the Quintet who could make it today. “Please make me another hypnosis track!”

“Aha. So that’s what brings you here.” Kaho-chan nodded, full of understanding and wisdom. “All alone, at that.”

“Well, yeah. I couldn’t ask you to hypnotize me in front of the others.”

“You could. If you wanted to freak ’em out.”

“Which I don’t.”

“Aw, c’mon. You should ask Aa-chan to make one for you. She might just say yes.”

“Ajisai-san ASMR…?”

My mind whirled: Ajisai-san whispering in my ear, “I really like you, Rena-chan.” Ajisai-san doting on her dear doggo in the beloved pet Rena-chan (ft. Ajisai) series. Ohhh no. That was a one-way trip to horny land.

“Nope! I’m good!” I blurted out.

“’Kay, ’kay. Don’t say I didn’t try.” Kaho-chan heaved an enormous shrug, complete with a What am I going to do with you? look. The melodrama would have been off-putting from anyone but a pretty girl—Kaho-chan was, as it turned out, an extraordinarily pretty girl, so she made it work just fine.

“But see, here’s the thing…” she added, crossing her arms and tilting her head in thought. What now?

“Why the sudden cold feet? The client will naturally pay the appropriate commission fee, Madam Hypnotist.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that. I’d do it for free.”

“Free? I don’t know if I like the sound of that. You’re going to do something weird to me, aren’t you?”

Kaho-chan looked me up and down with a rude, almost lascivious gleam in her eyes. Eep. I crossed my arms in front of my chest out of reflex.

“Don’t tell me it’s going to be another photo shoot…”

Kaho-chan hadn’t asked me to cosplay with her since the Makuhari Cosplay Summit. I enjoyed hanging out with Kaho-chan—but photo shoots were another matter. Photo shoots were work, and anything work-related stressed me out. I would’ve been hard pressed to call them fun. But I did owe her. I couldn’t refuse it if she asked. I’d just have to…suck it up… Make it seem like I was having fun…

The look on Kaho-chan’s face said she read me like a book. “No, I’m not gonna make you cosplay. ’Course, it’d be another story if you said you wanted to.”

“Oh yes,” I managed through gritted teeth. “I’d love to.”

“Girl. I said ‘another story.’ Not ‘It’d be another story (wink wink wink) if you said you wanted to cosplay (wink wink wink wink wink). But I don’t care! Ah ha! (Wink wink wink wink wink wink wink wink) It’s totally up to you, bestie!’”

I felt read for filth. She was, evidently, sincere about not pressuring me.

“You sure?”

“All this drowning in girlfriends must be eatin’ up your brain cells. Yeah, I’m sure.”

I wasn’t drowning in girlfriends. I only had two! Although two was already pushing the “only” qualifier.

“I want you to enjoy cosplaying, y’know? I’m not gonna ask you to cosplay with me again until you’re in a better headspace.”

“Oh. That’s nice of you.”

Kaho-chan chuckled, put a hand to her chin, and flashed me an upside-down peace sign. “Darn tootin’. It’s ’cause I’m a people person who looks out for her non-people people.”

As her local non-people person, that tracked.

“’Sides, I’m kinda blowing up online right now,” she went on. “I used to think no one was gonna look at my posts unless I did a collab. But now I’ve got enough fans that I’m comfortable going solo.”

“Whoa.” I could feel the self-esteem radiating off her. Damn, you know what? Good for you, Kaho-chan. Props to her for gaining that confidence.

“…What’s with that freaky benevolent look?” she asked, suspicious.

“Oh, it’s—I’m impressed.”

“You’re so simple-minded.” She rolled her eyes. Even that, rude as it was, looked cute on her. Makes you just wanna pull her in for a big squeeze!

“Y’know, I still don’t get it,” she remarked, apropos of nothing. “I can’t picture you as ever having been shy.”

“Urp.” The scorn in her eyes made me realize the time for judgment had come. So be it. “Yeah, so about that—”

“Man!” Kaho-chan yelled so loud I jumped. She threw her arms up in the air before falling flat on her back. “You found out I was cosplaying an extrovert in, like, two seconds flat. And you still hid your shyness from me! This friendship feels lopsided.”

“Urgh…”

“I’m literally shook, Rena-chin. I’m the only one who got fooled. I thought we were friends—even if you did forget about me when I remembered you just fine. And then I was the only one not in the know! I’m so shook. I’m shooketh!”

She kicked her legs in the air like a little kid having a tantrum. Ugggghhh. And she was right on all accounts. Finding out that I was just like her—when she’d thought I was an extroverted, outgoing, people person—was a betrayal of her trust.

“I’m sorry.” I fell prostrate. “You are absolutely correct, Koyanagi-san. I cannot begin to explain my shameful behavior.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped.

“Oh…” So I stopped. Was this really going to break our friendship?

“I just want the explanation,” she snapped again.

“Huh?”

She sat up and glared at me with an unreadable expression. She stuck her hand out and flapped it in my face. “C’mon. Gimme gimme.”

“Uh…” I had no right to refuse a direct order. So, shrouded in guilt, I stuttered out, “I… I had kind of a rough time in junior high. That’s when my mental health spiraled down the drain and I stopped going to school. I wanted to…leave that all behind me, y’know? So I reinvented my image, turned over a new leaf…and I tried to have a fresh start in high school.”

Kaho-chan’s eyes bored holes into me.

“That’s when I met all of you guys,” I said. “The Quintet. I looked up to all of you—that includes you, Kaho-chan. That didn’t change when you told me you just cosplay as an extrovert. Honestly, I thought you were incredible for pulling it off.”

“Says the girl who picked on me in the bath.”

“Okay, that’s shameful behavior I really can’t begin to explain.”

I bowed so low my forehead touched the floor and thanked my lucky stars she didn’t demand another explanation. What would I even say? I wanted payback for all the times I get screwed over? Yeah, that would only make things worse.

“Compared to you guys, who all work so hard, I felt like…what was I even doing with my life? You know? I didn’t dare speak up. I thought you guys might hate me if you saw my ugly side.”

“Mm.” Kaho-chan crossed her arms and nodded once. “I getcha.”

In what sense?

“Like… Me personally, I didn’t ever want to tell anyone about the extrovert cosplay thing,” she said. Her lips formed a peeved pout. “Oh well. No use crying over spilled milk. But y’know, none of the others pried when you told ’em the big news.”

“I think that’s because there was nothing worth prying about,” I admitted. “Most of them were probably going ‘She’s only mentioning it now? You can just tell by looking at her, lmao.’”

Pretty sure Satsuki-san said a paraphrased version of that when I told her…

Kaho-chan shook her head, though. “Nah, nah. It’s ’cause you clearly didn’t wanna talk about. No one wanted to force you to dwell on it.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. To be honest, I prolly should’ve done the same.” She frowned and scrunched up her lip, wrestling with the words she wanted to say.

Eventually, she switched tracks altogether. “Oh well! No more of that. It’s all water under the bridge now.”

“It is?” I felt like I’d been left a pace or two behind in this conversation. I was being whisked from the courthouse before the judge passed down the verdict. “But—”

“Don’t ‘but’ me! From now on, it’ll be a matter of my personal feelings. It’s fine.”

“Y-you sure…?” I didn’t get what she meant. Wasn’t this all a matter of personal feelings? If Kaho-chan had something to get off her chest, she should have done so—that was my thinking, anyway. But she wanted to drop it, and it would’ve been rude of me to pursue the issue.

Still, I didn’t want to end the conversation on this awkward note. So I said, “Uh… You know you can talk to me if something’s bothering you, right? You’re one of my closest friends, Kaho-chan. I care about you.” I wanted to get my feelings across. I really, really did. “I don’t want our hangouts to make you feel bad—or even just kinda uncomfortable. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, just say the word.”

Kaho-chan lapsed into a thoughtful silence for a couple of seconds before flinging her arms in the air again. “Gah!”

“What was that for?”

“None of your beeswax.”

Ouch. What was with the sudden Koyanagi cold snap?

“Pretty sure it is,” I said. Was she trying to cheer herself up by pissing me off? Maybe that was my punishment. So be it—I’d just have to deal…

“Fine! Y’know what, Rena-chin?” She pointed her finger right in my face.

Eep. “Wh-what?”

“I’m gonna ask you three questions, and you’d better tell me the truth. Then we’re good. Got it?”

Three? I blinked at her. I wasn’t hiding anything from her. She knew everything already—right? But if this cleared up things between us, I was game to answer her questions.

“Got it.” I nodded and gave her my most serious look.

She squared up in front of me and returned the serious look with one of her own. “Number one.”

“Hit me.”

“Are you and Maimai bumpin’ uglies already?”

Excuse me?! LANGUAGE!!!

“No! Absolutely not! Why the hell would you ask that?” I spluttered. I could feel myself turning red.

“Mmkay,” was all she said. “So you will tell me the truth. Good to know for the next two.”

If that was all a test, surely she didn’t need to use that specific question? Koyanagi Kaho-san???

Koyanagi Kaho-san unceremoniously turned away from me and booted up her PC. “Aighty, let me get started on your order. One confidence-boosting hypnosis track coming right up.”

Huh? I looked at her with the face of a girl three seconds away from getting her forehead flicked. “What happened to your other two questions?” I asked.

“I’m saving ’em for later.”

“That’s allowed?”

“I never said when I was gonna ask ’em.”

“Mmrgh. Fine.” I didn’t have room to complain when I was trying to win her forgiveness.

Kaho-chan smirked—she was right back to her old self. “I’ll wait till you win the lotto and ask for your bank account PIN.”

“Our friendship may take a hit if you do that.”

“Tee hee!”

“Cute, but you’re still not getting my PIN.” Don’t try to distract me with your tee hees, madam! My lips are sealed. Your cuteness will not get the better of me today.

“’Kay, so going back to the hypnosis track…”

“Yeah?”

“Here’s the premise. We’re gonna assume you’re a complete failgirl who’s super susceptible to hypnosis.”

“Sure.” (I wasn’t, but I wouldn’t argue with a fictional scenario.)

“By the way, I think you only have one hypnotizing left.”

“What does that mean?” That was ominous.

“Y’know. You’ve built up a tolerance to it. You can’t hypnotize yourself with the same sorta tracks forever. You’ve already used hypnosis to build up self-esteem.”

“So have you.”

“Yeah, but that’s like conditioning. It’s not an everyday thing, and it wouldn’t work if I used it that often. Same with you—it’s been a while since you last used hypnosis, right?”

“Your point being?”

“My point being, hypnosis isn’t a miracle cure for low self-esteem.”

Say it ain’t so!

“You mean I can’t turn to the illustrious Kaho-chan-sama at every one of life’s crossroads?” I cried, breathless.

“’Course not. I’m not your friggin’ Pokémon trainer.”

“Urp.” I clenched my teeth. There went my life plans!

“So keeping all that in mind, do you wanna move forward?” Kaho-chan asked me.

“Keeping all what in mind?”

“That this is your last hypnosis track. You sure you wanna use it here?”

“Um.” So it really was my last track, huh? Would I never again have that magical (if agonizingly cringe in hindsight) experience of being under hypnosis during a photo shoot?

I thought it over and then nodded. “Yeah. Do it.”

“Oh ho.”

“It’s all right,” I said. The final stragglers of reluctance vanished as I spoke. “I understand I can’t be like this forever. I want to pull out all the stops now so I can help my sister, but…someday, I want to be able to like myself without the help of all my friends. I’d like to be able to think good things about myself. One of these days. I guess.” I stopped myself before I tacked on any more unnecessary qualifiers and nodded hard. “So yeah. It’s all right to use it now.”

Kaho-chan grinned. “You got it, ma’am. So you can help your sister, huh?”

“Hm? Yeah, it’s for her.”

If my imagination didn’t deceive me, Kaho-chan looked forlorn for a split second. But then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and a smile cropped up in its place. She gave me a thumbs-up. “All righty! I’ll make you the awesomest, bestest, invinciblest Pretty Woman—just the way you asked. Get ready, ’cause this baby’s gonna be good.”

“Mess me up, Kaho-chan.”

I bowed low to the ever lifesaving Kaho-chan.

Earned 1× MAGICAL CHARM.

Kaho-chan sent the audio track to me not long after. It was a work of art, a whopping sixty-plus minutes long—the last hypnosis track of my life. I felt touched, honestly.

Come to think of it, I could always relisten to it for fun later… It just wouldn’t have any effect. Not like I was planning on listening to it! Promise! It’s just that I could if I felt like it. Theoretically!

Armor? Check. Shield? Check. Magic charm? Check. I had all my defense items. Last was the sword, aka…Satsuki-san.

Without the help of my friends, I would never have made it this far… But I did. I was ready. It was time, at long last, for me to tackle the dungeon known as the class reunion. Wait for me, demon king! Renako’s got your number!

***

Which brings us back to the present day and the reunion.

Here I stood on the threshold of the Italian restaurant, armed in the invincible armor of Mai’s fit, the indefatigable shield of Ajisai-san’s makeup tutelage, and the unconquerable charm known as the power Kaho-chan had infused in me. My goal? Change the past of my loser life. It’s game time, baby.

I pulled the event fee out of my (well, Mai’s) name-brand wallet and handed it in before sailing into the crowd of my old classmates. A murmur of whispers followed in my wake. I gravitated to a table next to the register—the most visible seat in the house—like it belonged to me. The damage zone of all watching eyes. The home of scrutiny alike raising your hand and blurting out in a school assembly.

But I wasn’t afraid. Not today. I was too armored to feel fear.

I stuck out like a sore thumb—but not, for once, in a bad way. In a Mai-posing-on-a street-corner way. In a Satsuki-san-poring-over-a-book-in-a-library-corner way. I commanded the room. It was a good sticking out. I promise!

Oh no. My confidence flickered momentarily. I may have worn a suit of armor, but take off the helmet, and it was still me inside. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. I could hear the whispers already. Is that Amaori? Eww. What’s she wearing? Yo, who invited that chick? Looool. Get a load of that girl.

Arrrgh! No, no, no! I didn’t hear anything! It was all in my head! I was Super Ready Renako today. My leaves were turned. My past didn’t exist. I was the most popular girl in junior high! A bright, peppy, outgoing optimist to the core! I would and could change the past!

While I hyped myself up, I casually leaned on my table and let a bored look travel around the room. The Oh, this is quaint. I’ve eaten at better, but I guess this restaurant will do for a reunion, look. Yes. Casually. Not sticking out at all.

One of the girls from my class (no idea what her name was) tiptoed over while I wrestled my overactive brain into submission. “Um… You seem…different.”

It was working!

I, ever the picture of confidence and social graces, fixed my nervous interlocutor with a beaming grin. “Gosh, you think? I guess that’s because high school is so great! I have such a blast every day, let me tell you.”

“D-do you?” She laughed awkwardly. “That’s nice.”

Now that she had broken the ice, friendly voices drifted over from multiple knots of people.

“You look so cute, Amaori-san.”

“Damn! I barely recognized you.”

I smiled back at my admirers as they came crowding around me. It wasn’t an entirely new sensation—it reminded me of the support the Quintet had received at the interclass basketball game. Knowing that people were hanging on to my every word was thrilling. But I wasn’t here to soak up flattery. I didn’t have time to waste on idle chitchat.

“Oh, you mean my outfit?” I said. “One of my model friends picked it out for me!” (This wasn’t a lie.) “She always has her thumb on the pulse of fashion, y’know? She and I are going shopping at Shibuya Hikarie soon!” (This was.)

I laid it on thick to prove I was so Put Together and Well-Adjusted. Normal me would have been appalled. (She might have been pissed to hear it, but) I modeled myself on Youko-chan. Youko-chan wasn’t this much off a braggart—but I was copying her vibes, you know? The I talk like a shoujo manga protagonist vibes?

I sensed an imminent invitation to an afterparty, so I quickly made a tactical and tactful retreat. “Oop. Sorry, gotta jet. I want to talk to as many people as I can tonight. Later, guys!” Never get trapped in one place, Renako. Never panic and let your mask slip!

This style’s signature airy-fairyness meant that I didn’t need to spend any time in one-on-one conversation and attempt to calibrate my speech to my conversation partner’s mood. I only needed to leave a strong impression. I could simply bounce from classmate to classmate to “jog” their “memories” of me.

A smile here, a word there. Trailing perfume and a striking impression alike, I repainted my grayscale junior high experience in brilliant colors.

I found a nervous knot of girls at one end of the room, waved, and jumped right into their conversation. Some of them used to talk to me way back when—the Hirano-sans and Hasegawa-sans of junior high. They looked at me and my impregnable suit of armor with wary, distrusting eyes. I guess I was no longer one of them. I was the one who’d chosen to desert their sisterhood of shyness, but I felt a twinge of sadness nonetheless. I wanted to commiserate and promise that I, too, struggled in social situations. But now was not the time.

“Hey, gang!” I said. “Has anyone seen Nashiji-san around?”

The girls stiffened and turned even more nervous. “Um…I don’t think so. Not yet,” one of them said.

“Yeah, me neither,” her friend added. “If she’s here tonight, maybe try looking over there…?” She pointed to the rowdiest corner of the room.

I flashed the girls a grin, said, “Thanks, y’all!” and skipped away.

I checked the time. I was to stay for twenty minutes precisely. Kaho-chan said masks tended to slip after much longer, and I was definitely going to run out of pre-rehearsed conversation topics soon. If only I could ad-lib conversation on the fly… Alas. The issue was, my junior high class had over one hundred kids. If only half showed up to the reunion, that left me with roughly fifty to meet and greet. Spending a minute with each would put me close to an hour! How was I supposed to breeze through them all in twenty minutes?

Uh-oh. I could feel the panic coming on, and if I panicked too hard, my cover would be blown. Cinderella could not lose her glass slipper here. Calm down, Renako. Be calm. Be cool. Cucumbers wish they were you, I reminded myself as I glided across the restaurant.

“You see Nashiji-san anywhere?” I asked a random person.

“Hm? I don’t think so.”

“Yeah? Thanks anyway.” Grin. Off I went.

“Do you know if Nashiji-san’s coming?” I stopped someone else to ask.

“Sorry, no idea. I’ll ask the others.”

“Thanks! That’d be great.” Smile. On to the next person.

Strange. Very, very strange. Nashiji Komachi-san had been the most popular girl in school. The queen bee of the hive. Girls like her had to show up to class reunions. It was their big chance to flaunt their clout and rule their roost.

Unease closed in on me like a belt cinching my waist.

Wasn’t she supposed to be the life of every party? Didn’t she feed off other people’s attention and affirmation? She always used to turn on anyone who put up the slimmest opposition. She took anyone who gave her the slightest reason to dislike them and ran them into the ground.

So why wasn’t she here? Was she late? Couldn’t be. I’d showed up thirty minutes late myself just to be on the safe side. Pop in right when the party was at its height, make an appearance, thumb my nose in Nashiji-san’s face, and peace out. That was the plan, but I just couldn’t find her. My anxiety mounted with every passing second. I felt like I couldn’t get enough oxygen. The more I panicked, the more my indestructible armor crumbled.

Oh God. I couldn’t do it.

I needed to duck out for a moment. I was never going to get anywhere like this.

If I squared off against Nashiji-san and made her eat words, I was set. When Minato-san admitted those rumors were nothing but lies, the Haruna hubbub would die off on its own. But if Nashiji-san never showed up, the plan was toast.

Look. Let’s ditch the plan, I told myself. We’ll commit to the second half of our goal and leave a strong impression on the others. Let’s take a time-out. If I stayed here any longer, my facade would collapse and everyone would know I was the same girl inside I’d always been.

I jostled my way through the crowd to the exit, dodging hellos and heys from boys and girls alike. My oxygen tank was down to its final gasping mouthfuls of air. But shore was in sight. I could reach it if I tried. I just had to—

That was when a hand landed on my shoulder and a very familiar voice said, “Yoo-hoo! Amaori!”

And there she was. Tall, brightly dyed hair. Not Nashiji-san, but one of her old friends—old cronies, if I wanted to be mean. The girl who had laughed at Nashiji-san and said, “You just got turned DOWN. That’s hella lame.”

I jolted before I could stop myself.

“Is that you? No way! You look so cute now. Do you remember me? I was…”

The rest of her speech reached my ears as an incomprehensible buzz. Maybe it was just too loud in here. Or maybe it was the ringing in my ears building to a painful roar.

“…totally! How’ve you been? Isn’t it wild how much everyone’s changed? It’s only been a few months!”

Hey. Stand up straight. Make eye contact when she’s talking with you. You can’t let her remember who you are. You need to change the past.

That’s when the other girls joined in. “Oh yeah! What was — thinking? It hasn’t even been a year and she’s already hosting a reunion? Girl, get over yourself. Did you hear she’s still pining over her old crush? And then she got a boyfriend the minute high school started. Looo-seer.”

“Was that why? Ha! Well, it’s fun to see old friends again. And —san showed up.”

“Why are they only serving soda? It’s not a party unless there’s booze.”

“Come on. You think this crowd of goody-goodies knows how to party?”

They were suffocating me. My efforts to be the life of the party had swept me along right into the party’s center. More friends of Nashiji-san swarmed out of the woodwork. It was like an uncanny recreation of the day Nashiji-san invited me to hang out with them—with the exception of the one pivotal person.

That’s when one of the girls put forward, “Hey, you guys wanna go somewhere when this is over?”

My heart stopped. A crack sprouted in my armor. The Okays and Heck yeahs of other girls agreeing rang in my ears.

“Let’s get the guys to come,” someone else suggested. “It’ll be fun!”

A chunk of my shield shattered and dropped to the floor.

The door was only a few paces away.

But then all the smiling faces turned in my direction. “You wanna come, Amaori?” one girl asked—an invitation made from one popular girl to another. An acknowledgment that I was one of them.

I could forget about proper social conduct. I could push past them and run away like I did that day on my great escape to the roof. I could protect myself. Keep my heart safe.

The twinkling light of Kaho-chan’s magic charm flickered out.

But, for all that, I still had a mission.

I forced myself to look up in the way I didn’t all those years ago. I steeled my expression with determination. “I—”

All the watching eyes bored into me. I had no armor left. I had nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing but me, and I was nothing.

No. That’s not right.

I was Amaori Renako. I was standing here, right here, because I was going to change the past.

And so I said, “Are you kidding me? Who in their right mind would hang out with you?”

The girls fell silent at the vitriol in my voice. I paused long enough to gulp a mouthful of oxygen and pressed on. “No, I’m not going with you. Why would I enjoy that? You’ve done nothing but pick on me and make fun of me. Why would I hang out with bullies? No. Take your bullying somewhere else. I’m not having any of it.”

The hostility I could feel aimed at me ballooned with every word, but I never moved a step. “It’s stupid to ice someone out for not wasting their time on you. You hear that? It’s stupid.”

I knew the world was full of mean people. Believe me, I knew. And that is precisely why I could stand up and fight back. I was not going to be cowed by these people. I believed in myself—for everyone who was behind me supporting me every step of the way. And I believed in myself for me. I was not the girl I once was.

Someone’s laughter rang in my ears. Maybe it was mine. I heard someone say, “You hear that? You just got turned DOWN. That’s hella lame.”

The girls glared at me with the fury of those who’ve had their fun time ruined. “Who do you think you are, Amaori—” one of them began to say. I thought they were going to grab me and beat me up. But I stared back, unflinching, when…

When the bell on the restaurant door tinkled. All eyes turned to the door and the tall figure who stalked in. They were as slender and as perfectly proportioned as a model. Almond-shaped eyes glittered above the black mask covering the lower half of their face. They carried themselves with the deadliness of a knife. Imposing height. Oversized hoodie. Hands jammed into pockets. Eyes trained on me.

“Amaori.” The stranger’s low growl cut through the din of the restaurant. “What are you still doing here? It’s time to go.”

“Wait, I…”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence. It was drowned out in the squealing of Nashiji-san’s cronies.

“Is that her boyfriend?!”

“Oh my God!”

“Girl, he’s dreamy.”

The figure grabbed my wrist, their momentary show of concern for me long past. “Hurry up.”

I squeaked, but there was no arguing with that tone of voice. They pulled me forward so fast I lost my balance and fell right into their arms. Nashiji-san’s cronies shrieked in delight.

“Hey…” I whispered, just loud enough for my savior to hear.

They removed the mask.

“Wha—”

Their face drifted closer—and covered mine. It filled my vision. Gasps and screams echoed around us. By the time the person pulled away, I was flushed red to my ears.

I threw one brief, almost apologetic look back at my classmates, grinned with all my bashful being, and waved—just a tiny flutter of my hand. I was too breathless to manage more than a weak laugh. “Th-that’s all folks,” I eventually stuttered out. “See you later!”

Nashiji-san’s cronies were gobsmacked. The envy in their eyes was visible from here. No one moved until we were already one foot out the door.

My savior and I dashed away from the restaurant until we came to a stop a few blocks away.

“H-hey, um…” I rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand, not caring that it messed up my makeup. “Thank you for saving me, but—” and here my voice rose to a shrill screech “—you didn’t need to go that far!”

“What?” The figure scowled at me like they were tired of my antics. “I was being thorough. Wasn’t this what you wanted?”

“Not a full-blown kiss!”

“Our lips never touched.”

“Yes, but my point still stands!”

The figure’s lips had merely grazed my mouth on their way to my cheek—their true target.

They looked around to make sure no one was watching then shrugged off their hoodie and pulled off their wig. “Finally,” they muttered. Long black hair fwoomed out of its confines to sway in the breeze before settling in a straight waterfall down my savior’s back. Not a hair was out of place; she was back to her usual, beautiful self within moments. Back to being Koto Satsuki. The strongest piece of my arsenal: my sword.

“You were so shaken and blushing when we had our first kiss,” I said. “Look at you now, Satsuki-san. You’ve turned into a naughty girl.”

“Indeed. I’m surrounded by bad influences.” (Who? Mai, I guess. Maybe Kaho-chan.)

I had a sneaking feeling this conversation was going places that would not behoove me, so I switched topics. “I’m surprised how well you pulled that off. You were born to play that role.”

“Indeed I was.”

“I wish I had half your confidence… You treat compliments like an annual tax collected from the peasants.”

“Would you rather I demur?” she asked, with a smile so breathtaking I almost mistook her for a goddess standing there in the moonlight. God. She was too powerful.

Armed with cross-dressing clothes from Kaho-chan—complete with ten-centimeter platform shoes and a tube-top binder—I had asked Satsuki-san to play the role of the handsome young man who would come pick me up. Ajisai-san was too friendly; Mai, too recognizable. Kaho-chan was too short to pose a threat. That left only Satsuki-san. As humiliating as it was to admit, I had to say—the most surefire way to make yourself the target of teenage admiration is to have a hot romantic partner. Satsuki-san’s looks could kill. Literally. It made her the perfect sword.

Honestly, I couldn’t care less if people thought Satsuki-san was my boyfriend or girlfriend. She was the one who’d wanted to cross-dress. Her beauty transcended gender. Heck, what didn’t it transcend?

Ever so humbled by her kind contribution to my plan, I asked, “Hey, Satsuki-san? What’s your beauty secret?”

“Good genes.”

“I’m literally going to hit you.”

And may all the people of the world line up behind me to take their turn…

No, that wasn’t kind. I shouldn’t have said that about her after she came to my rescue. Begone, nasty feelings!

If anything, I should’ve been delighted to once again brag about bagging Satsuki-san as a girlfriend. She was too good of a catch. I could see all the nations in the world turning on each other to fight over her. Cleopatra Satsuki…

“It didn’t seem like you needed my help after all,” Satsuki-san remarked out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“You weren’t doing a half-bad job dressing down those girls.”

The effects of the hypnosis must have worn off just then, because when I looked back on what I had said minutes before, I blanched. “Y-you heard all that?”

“Most of it.”

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

“You should have stepped in sooner, then! I thought I was going to die in there.”

Satsuki-san just giggled. “Well, if you can stand up for yourself even at moments like that—” She pushed her hair out of her face and smiled at me. “—then I think you have a place in the friend group, Amaori.”

I was gobsmacked all over again. Finally, my voice quavering, I belted out, “Are you telling me you still hadn’t accepted me into the group?”

Whatever happened to being the very bestest friends in the whole wide world?

It took a few minutes for the shock at not having been accepted—when I joined the Quintet in April! April!—to subside. By the time I felt well enough to talk, we were already on our way back to the train station together.

“So, how did it go?” Satsuki-san asked me.

“I think it went well. Emphasis on I think. I certainly didn’t come away looking like a shy introvert.”

Satsuki-san’s (misplaced) kiss no doubt had a hand in that.

“I would expect as much, considering how dolled up you got,” she commented, glancing at my impenetrable armor. “I’m sure they could hardly recognize you.”

“Thanks to everyone else’s help,” I reminded her. “Wait, was that a compliment?”

Satsuki-san smirked at my compliment-angling ass. “Yes. Directed at Mai, Sena, and Kaho.”

“Dude, no kidding. They did a pro job on me.”

I should’ve known. Satsuki-san would never have paid me a straight compliment like that. And she was right—my other three friends were amazing. I could talk up the Quintet all day.

But then Satsuki-san stiffened, like a demon splashed with holy water.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I can’t believe I complimented Mai… I was in such a rush to disparage you it just slipped out…”

“Ah. I forgot you’re cursed to die sooner for every compliment you pay. You poor thing.”

“Moving on,” Satsuki-san said, dismissing my sympathies with a flip of her hair. She could turn on a dime at blistering speeds, a trait I envied. Whether I wanted to possess that same trait—well, that was the hairier question. “I suppose this means you’ve accomplished your goal.”

“Oh shit.” I stopped in my tracks.

Satsuki-san turned back to look at me from the pool of light under a streetlamp. “What is it?”

“I only sorta…half accomplished it…”

I pulled out my phone. Messages from my various accomplices were pouring in to ask how it’d gone. I fired back a few quick “Greats” as I talked.

“Thing is, I needed to run into a girl named Nashiji-san. She wasn’t there.”

“Hmm.” A very disinterested “hmm.” “Was she the reason you stopped going to school?”

“Yeah, pretty muc—huh?” I recoiled in shock after the “yeah” slipped out. “How’d you know?” I thought Satsuki-san only knew that I had gone through a truancy phase and that I used to be shier.

“I just connected the dots,” she replied, with the easy grace of a person who solves a difficult puzzle in a matter of seconds. “Relax. I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Th-thanks. That’s kind of you…”

It was bad enough saying that my mental health had kept me home. It was even harder to blame it on a particular person. (I wasn’t trying to hide it, Kaho-chan. I swear!) I didn’t want my friends to go after Nashiji-san, and knowing Mai and Kaho-chan, they could certainly inflict one heck of a revenge.

Satsuki-san glanced up at the sky, like she was addressing the moon. “Nashiji? Ah. I see.”

“Hm? Do you know her?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Uh…?” Satsuki-san was difficult to read at the best of times, but tonight she was downright inscrutable.

“So you need to see her, is what I’m hearing,” she said.

“I’d like to. I don’t know if that’s possible.”

How would I even do that? Get Minato-san’s number from Seira-san and ask which school Nashiji-san went to? Then stake out the place and catch her after school…? But then I’d need more than just my flimsy facade. I was the away team bringing the battle to her; I’d be at a disadvantage.

What if I ran back to the reunion now and asked someone for her number? I really, really didn’t want to, but…at least that would get me somewhere.

“Give me a moment,” Satsuki-san said. She took out her phone and turned away from me to call someone. The person on the other end of the line evidently picked up, as Satsuki-san leaned into the phone and said, “Hey. You’re looking into this Nashiji Komachi girl, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?!” I blurted out, much too loud. Who on earth was she calling?

Satsuki-san shushed me. Oops. I didn’t want to interfere with her phone call, but my curiosity was killing me.

“To learn her weaknesses, I presume? I’m not interested in what happened between them. All I need are the facts. Yes. You may bill for it later. Yes. Charge it to our employer’s account.”

I was only catching half of the conversation, but the half I did hear was spicy stuff. Satsuki-san, is this…allowed…?

After a few more back-and-forths, Satsuki-san and her mysterious conversation partner came to an agreement. “Perfect. Then we’ll do just that. Yes, I understand. Goodbye.” Beep.

Satsuki-san stared down at her phone for a few seconds before I spoke up. “Um… What was that all about?”

My phone buzzed with a message. The sender? Satsuki-san. The message? The lair of my opponent—Nashiji Komachi’s home address.

“What the heck?” I cried. How on Earth did she get this?

My eyes were wide as saucers. Satsuki-san just turned away like she’d done all she was required to do. “This is where I bow out,” she said.

“Um, wait—”

“The rest is up to you. Good luck.”

I had three bajillion things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t form them into a coherent thought. I just stood there and watched Satsuki-san stalk away.

Too late, I called out, “Hey, wait. This is…”

At that moment, I caught sight of myself in the reflection of a shop window. It was the most powerful version of myself in history—the me shaped by Mai, Ajisai-san, and Kaho-chan. I looked like a different person entirely, and that sight filled me with courage.

This is it, reflection!me said. I exist because your friends believe in and care about you.

Even if I didn’t have a suit of armor, a robust shield, magic charms, and a blade of steel—I still had the power of loving my friends. What could I do with this power? Anything. After all, it was for my sister.

“Satsuki-san!” I yelled down the dark street. She stopped but did not turn.

Nevertheless, I threw my arm over my head and waved like mad. “Thank you so much!” I called after her. “I’ll try my best!”

She deigned to give me a single small, backhand wave.

And then I was off, a Cinderella running on bare feet after losing her glass slippers. But that’s okay. I may not have had my slippers, but I still had myself.

It was time for the final showdown.

***

When the thought occurred to her, Koto Satsuki placed another call on her walk home. The other person picked up immediately, their tone none too pleased. “Mm-hmm? What is it now?”

The apology leaped out of Satsuki’s mouth. “I’m sorry about that.”

The other person fell silent, surprised. “…Wow. Since when did we have flying pigs?”

“Since never. I know I placed an unreasonable request, so I thought I owed you a thank you. Here it is: thank you.”

“Whoa.” The other person—one Teruzawa Youko—was not impressed. “What are you trying to do, anyway? Our job is to make Amaori Renako and little miss Queenie Rose break up—although I’m spending 90 percent of my time as a maid these days… Point is, don’t you think this is a little out of the job description?”

Satsuki did not respond.

“I know you have your own goals, but listen—if you think you can use my services however you please, you’ve got another think coming.”

Satsuki was almost to the train station. She passed under a neon sign, ignoring the tiresome riffraff and solicitors around her. “It was strictly necessary.”

“Necessary?” Youko picked up on the word.

“Yes, necessary. Amaori cannot multitask. Should we want to make progress, we must first clear the other obstacles in her life—sans the romantic obstacles, of course.”

“Seriously?” Youko said. “That’s your plan to get them to break up?”

“Correct.” Satsuki did not so much as bat an eye.

“She says, like she’s fooling everyone. If I’m a detective, what are you? A con woman?”

“Kindly keep your nonsensical comments to yourself. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m hanging up.”

“Hey, wait! Come help me out again the next time you’re free. You-know-who only listens to you. You owe me for giving you that address!”

Satsuki hung up. She stopped and eyed her reflection in a nearby display case. The girl with long black hair eyed her back. She was no fairy godmother turning pumpkins into carriages. No, she was the witch who gave Snow White the poisoned apple.

That’s right, she told herself. There is no point to any of this unless Amaori is at her best. Just like that first competition of ours. So go, Amaori. Release yourself from that silly trauma of yours. The wind picked up and made her hair billow out behind her. Is romantic love really so precious? Or is it all just stupid and insignificant? Which one of us is wrong? Is it Mai, or is it me?

The witch in the window cracked the barest hint of a smile.

Only you can answer that, Amaori.

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 5

RENAKO-ONEECHAN had always been a quick learner. She adapted to everything. Maybe it was only the two-year age difference, but when Haruna was little, she didn’t understand that that was just how big kids were. To her, her oneechan was simply incredible. Haruna idolized her big sister with an uncomplicated admiration.

Renako knew how to play all kinds of games; Renako’s ideas provided most of the fun in Haruna’s life—and that wasn’t all. Renako was always kind, but she reserved a special sweetness for her baby sister. Whenever the girls did something that landed them both in trouble, Renako always took the blame. She would pout about how it wasn’t fair, but whenever she saw Haruna’s face fall with guilt, her pout would morph into a grin.

“I’m your big sister,” she told Haruna. “And this is what being a big sister is all about.”

Every time Haruna heard those words—every time Renako repeated them to her—a funny feeling sprouted in her heart. Before long, it became a kind of pride. The pride, she realized, of being Oneechan’s little sister.

Haruna set herself to learning how to overcome the daily struggles of little kid life. She may have failed once or twice, but she didn’t want to be one of those people who gave up before trying. She wanted to grow up one day to be an incredible person—just like her oneechan.

Alas, even the best-laid plans could go awry. Even ones with such noble intent as Haruna’s.

It was easier to list what didn’t go topsy-turvy. Elementary school was a struggle for Haruna. Righteous frustration exploded out of her in daily tantrums. She chastised a friend for littering; the friend argued back; a fight broke out. She tattled to the teacher when a boy didn’t do a good job cleaning; he called her a snitch; a fight broke out. A classmate tried to push their class chore duties onto her; she simply did her share and went home; the next day, the classmate was in tears. Why did everyone treat her like she was the bad guy? Why did she always have to blow up and slap her classmates?

No, nothing ever went Haruna’s way.

Haruna was not a quick learner. She didn’t have her sister’s knack for accepting injustices. As the world waged its perpetual war against her child’s sense of what was right and wrong, little Haruna’s heart began to crumble away. Maybe she simply wasn’t meant to be as incredible as her sister.

One day, stopping at the local park on the way home from school to play on the swings, she asked her sister, “How do I make the other kids stop hating me?”

Maybe even asking the question was another item in Haruna’s long list of failures. Scared of the answer, she leaned forward (her little kid’s backpack bumping against her back) to look at Renako’s face.

Her sister answered, matter-of-factly, “Well, I like you, Haruna.” She smiled her innocent, big-kid smile. “It doesn’t matter if people hate you, ’cause I like you.”

Haruna’s heart grew warm. “Huh,” she said. Just that one little word, and that was all.

And then she followed it with another: “Okay.”

Even if every one of her classmates hated her, so long as her big sister loved her forever and ever, things would be okay.

That was the day Haruna stopped donning her suit of armor. She had no need to fight anymore. It didn’t matter if other people did the right thing, so long as she did. If someone got on her case, she’d simply show them up in other ways. She didn’t care if the other kids talked about her behind her back.

Maybe she wasn’t meant to be incredible like her sister. But she could be loved. So long as she had her beloved sister’s love, everything would be all right.

Eventually, things seemed to correct themselves without her input. More and more kids warmed up to Haruna. They told her she was easy to talk to. Life saw fit to give her more breathing room. She developed a strong sense of self-esteem, and she stopped worrying that there was something wrong with her.

And they all lived happily ever after. The end to the story of Amaori Renako’s little sister, Amaori Haruna.

That is, if we only look at Haruna’s happiness.

As it turned out, Renako’s and Haruna’s fortunes flipped.

Haruna’s beloved sister stopped going to school and began emulating the mud under Haruna’s feet. Haruna’s beloved sister lost a core part of her soul; it crumbled away until it took the legs right out from under Renako.

As one sister went up, the other went down. Seesawing. Maybe that was simply how all sisters functioned. As time went on and Haruna grew into her talents, the more those talents taunted Renako.

Haruna’s beloved sister grew forgotten and ignored.

“You’re such a liar,” Haruna said.

Well, I like you. Yeah, right. There was no one who would love her forever and ever. Haruna had been wrong from the start.

But maybe some small part of her still believed that, one day, Renako would heave herself up under her own steam and break out of this endless stagnation.

She was Haruna’s big sister. And wasn’t that what being a big sister was all about?

Chapter 8:
There’s No Freaking Way I Can be a Big Sister! (Unless…?)

I WAS BORN AND RAISED in this neighborhood, so I didn’t need to bother looking up directions. No, the hard part was everything that came after.

I turned down the residential street indicated on the address, and there it was. The Nashiji house. It looked perfectly ordinary except for the prominent Nashiji nameplate, glittering a dull metallic gleam like a charm made to ward off evil spirits.

The courage that had carried me here flagged. I didn’t want to ring the doorbell. I doubted I could pull a fire alarm if a fire broke out in front of me. Loud ringing things were scary! How did door-to-door salespeople do it? How did they waltz right up to stranger’s houses and mosey on in? Truly, the real heroes of modern society…

No, I couldn’t ring the doorbell. I just couldn’t. Oh! But I could call Seira-san to do it for me. The Nashijis would think nothing of opening their door to her. Wow, what a good idea, me.

No, it was no use. I still had her blocked in my phone. Sorry, Seira-san… When this is all over, I’ll make good on my promise and introduce you to Mai.

That left me with no choice but to ring the bell myself. I wish I’d thought to buy a nice box of cakes at the train station—although surely the Nashijis would question the occasion.

Hoowaagh! Oh powers that be, grant me all the courage in creation! I beseech thee, lend me thy aid!

Take…that! I pushed the doorbell.

A mysterious and powerful force yanked me away. Let’s run! it cried. It was…me. Yes, me, myself, and cowardly I. I can’t run, me. If I ran now, I’d have just ding-dong ditched Nashiji Komachi-san. I was not going to have that on my criminal record!

With all the effort of a woman clinging to a plank of driftwood being tossed about on the stormy seas, I stayed exactly where I was. I waited an interminable length of time before a voice on the intercom crackled, “Hello?”

I knew that voice. What is “Minato-san”? Turn to camera. Giggle. Raise hand. “Did I get it right?”

“Hello,” I said. “It’s Amaori Renako.”

“Huh? What’re you doing here?” she said—the all-too reasonable response.

“Um, I was hoping to have a talk…”

“Uh… One second.”

The door opened a few moments later. Minato-san stepped out in her loungewear, a suspicious frown drawn starkly across her face. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

“I—um—it’s because I used to go to school with your sister, okay?!”

“…Oh?” She put a hand to her chin and frowned, this time in confusion. I was clearly not making sense. Fine—she wasn’t my final objective.

“We had a class reunion today,” I said, suddenly cognizant that I was standing practically on their doorstep.

“Ah.” Her face cramped. “That explains the outfit.”

“Right. But—um—I was hoping to see your sister—no, no—I just thought—well, I wanted to see how she was doing.”

Minato-san’s hesitancy around me inched up another notch. “You came to our house to see her? Is that what you’re saying?”

“We didn’t make any plans, but yes. If she’s home, I’d like to see her!” I begged, bringing my hands together in front of me. I dredged up the last vestiges of my social skills and forced myself to smile. “Please? I know it’s out of the blue. Sorry.”

Minato-san was not keen on the idea—natch. “I don’t know, this is kinda weird…”

Ugh! As much as I was allergic to saying no, I was doubly allergic to pleading when others told me no. But one couldn’t get through life avoiding all the things they didn’t like to do.

I beseeched her like my life depended on it. “C-could you please just ask your sister? Tell her Amaori Renako’s come over to see her.” A risky move in and of itself, but if I knew Nashiji-san, she would never refuse a visitor at the door. She was an egotistical, self-centered, sadistic, stuck-up you-know-what. But to keep up her oh-so friendly appearance, she had to be at the very least sociable. Girls who couldn’t do that never remained queen bee for long.

Minato-san looked torn, but she eventually nodded. “Okay.”

“Thank you so, so much. I’ll wait right here!” Heck yeah, let’s go!

I bowed as modestly as I possibly could to not endanger this stroke of fortune any further. I could feel my social mask slipping. Oh well, what the hell. Minato-san knew I was a weirdo anyway.

She started to turn back to the house, then paused, looked down, and shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “I changed my mind.”

“What?”

She changed her mind?! Why? What could have possibly possessed her?

“Sorry, Oneesan. Could you go home now?” Minato-san asked. “Now’s just…not a good time.”

I scrambled for my last resort. “But—but this is for Haruna!” Seira-san and Minato-san had asked me to help her. Surely Minato-san wouldn’t begrudge me a chance to do just that.

But she did. “Sorry,” she said, and she dipped me an apologetic bow.

My chance…!

Were this an RPG, I would’ve attacked the path-blocking Minato-san, saved, and charged in to meet the final boss of Nashiji-san. Alas, this was Japan. A civilized country where assault was considered a crime. Which left me with no options. Was this the end of the line? Everything was going black…

No! I refused to let it end here. I could do this! I could come up with a solution on the spot to magically solve everything. I could do this! I could do this, I could do this, I could—

Just as I was down to my last drop of my groundless confidence, someone shouted “Minato!” behind me.

I whirled around. Seira it ain’t so! But it was. There stood the lone figure of junior high schooler Seira-san. What was she doing here?

It was hard to say who was more shocked—me or Minato-san. Seira-san stepped past me and looked back and forth between us.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I finally managed to splutter.

“…I got a text,” she said.

From whom? The only people who knew I was here were Satsuki-san and her mysterious info broker. Unless…we counted Moon-san. Cosplayer for hire Moon-san would have Seira-san’s contact info; they were cosplay buddies. She must have waited until I was on my way to Minato-san’s house before sending one last line of help my way. The powers of foresight that girl possessed, I swear…

Seira-san turned away from me and rounded on Minato-san. “You gotta stop being stubborn too! There’s too much at stake.”

“Wh-where is this coming from, Seira?” Minato-san said.

“If you weren’t so freaking stubborn, we could go back to when it was the three of us! Just like old times!”

Seira-san grabbed Minato-san by the collar. Hello?! Was this a fight? Why the sudden violence? Oh God, what was I supposed to do? Break them up?!

“Oneesan-senpai!” Seira-san barked. “It’s the room on the right up the stairs.”

“Huh?”

“Go!” she snarled. “Now!”

But I—?! Trespassing was a crime! Even if Seira-san gave me her permission—it wasn’t her house!

“I’m tired of this depressing crap!” she snapped through gritted teeth. She pinned Minato-san to the wall. “I want it all taken care of. Now!”

I caught Minato-san’s eyes for one brief instant, and in them I saw—

…

Something unspoken passed between us. I ducked past the squabbling girls and pulled my shoes off as I ran in. “Sorry, Minato-san!” I called over my shoulder.

“What do you think you’re—”

“I’ll give a full apology later!”

I jogged up the stairs of this house I’d never been to before. Look at me, a brazen criminal at the tender age of fifteen. The next time I was in cuffs, they’d be for real.

But I had to. Because Minato-san’s eyes, see—those were the eyes of a person asking for help. I was all but sure of it. Those were the eyes of a person who was at the end of their rope, a person who was waiting for someone to come along and extend a hand. The eyes of a person who knew no one would ever come. The eyes I used to see staring back at me in the junior high bathroom mirror every time I ducked in to hide from all the people who refused to talk to me.

I wasn’t sure that I could help, but by God, I had to try. There was something waiting for me. Something Minato-san wanted to hide for all she was worth.

I reached the landing at the top of the stairs and turned to the right-hand door. I put my hand on the knob. My hesitation was gone, and I threw the door open in one swift motion—and stopped. My breath caught in my throat.

Here was a room that time had forgotten. The bottom of a sea of loneliness. A darkness that no light could penetrate.

A girl’s sluggish, blanket-draped head turned toward the open door with the stiffness of a person frozen solid. “…What do you want?” she said.

Our eyes met.

It couldn’t be. But it was. I felt like I was making first contact with an undiscovered life-form as I whispered, “…Nashiji-san?”

I took a step into her room. Recognition dawned in her eyes. “Are you…Amaori?”

Yes, it was Nashiji Komachi. There was no mistaking that voice, but the girl in front of me bore no resemblance to the image burned indelibly in my mind. They were two different species that had evolved from the same source—this one weakened, beat down by her environment, teetering on the brink of extinction.

But how? And why? Her room was a mess. In the corner lay, discarded in a heap of junk, her school uniform. But why would she throw out her uniform?

In a flash, everything came together. “Did you…stop going to school?” I said.

Nashiji-san didn’t answer.

I took another step. There was no place to stand that wasn’t on her stuff. Textbooks that she’d probably never cracked the covers of lay at odd angles like the bleached skeletons of coral.

“Why?” I asked. The word spilled out of my mouth and hit the floor with a thump. “Why?”

Nashiji-san didn’t look at me, like it was too much effort even to move her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

Oh no. That struck a nerve.

“None of my business?” I repeated. I saw red. My vision narrowed. “Bullshit! Of course it’s my business.”

The voice ripping itself out of my throat was one I’d never heard before. And no wonder—of all the things she could have said, “none of your business” was the most damning option. Denying my importance, my entire life was the rawest nerve I had.

“You were the one who iced me out for fun.”

There must have been a reason she’d plunged headlong into the sea of depression. Of course there must’ve been. But I forgot about that. I forgot about everything in my need to pummel Nashiji-san with my feelings.

“You have no idea how much you hurt me. You don’t get to say your actions are none of my business!”

Nashiji-san’s deadened eyes fixed themselves on me, and in this state, I found even that infuriating.

“You made my life hell. Why did you… Why did you let yourself sink to this state?!”

It wasn’t anger bubbling up inside my chest.

“Do you want to make me look like an idiot? Do you want to make me look like a fool for being traumatized by a-a-a depressed girl in a blanket?!”

It was, strangely, regret.

“Answer me, Nashiji Komachi!”

“Shut up!” she said. She lurched upright and snarled at me. “Who gave you the right? Why did you come barging in here to yell at me? Shut up, Amaori! I don’t give a damn about you and your trauma.”

“Then stop running away. Go back to school!”

Nashiji-san’s face warped. “You don’t know my story.”

“Why would I? I haven’t seen you since junior high!”

This wasn’t a conversation. Conversations weren’t held oblivious to the other person’s feelings. Conversations weren’t punching matches brawled with emotion. This was just a shoot-out, our guns loaded with denial of the other person’s importance.

“What is this? Are you here to get payback?” she said.

“…No. I’m not. Because then I’d be no better than you.”

“Well, don’t you think you’re cool, dressed up like that? What, are you here to gloat?”

“Not that either. This…is just proof of how far I’ve come.”

Slide the next bullet into the chamber. Fire the shot and watch it fly to the sea floor.

“Look at me,” I said. “Look. Look how far I’ve come.”

Shove the gun in my own face. Shoot the Amaori Renako she knew.

“I turned over a new leaf when I started high school. I remade my image. I said goodbye to my junior-high self.”

You want to hide away in the darkness? Be my guest. Let me show you how dazzlingly bright I am.

“I made friends. Tons of friends! I learned how to do makeup. I practiced day in and day out. I started dating! I had to make up for all the lost time when I shut myself up in my room. I worked hard!”

Every sentence struck Nashiji-san like a bullet. She grimaced and looked down at her toes in obvious pain.

“I worked hard, so I could… I could… I could tell you to shove it, you bitch! Yeah! I said it. You’re a bitch, Nashiji Komachi!”

She winced in pain. I hit hard—right in the heart. I hit her with my own inner evil. How did it feel to be derided by the girl she once bullied? Not good. Not good at all.

“Well?” I demanded. “What do you have to say to that, huh?!”

I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied with any excuse or apology she could give me. I wouldn’t let Nashiji Komachi off the hook with a few words.

I reached out and shoved her. “Komachi!” She was as light as a ghost. She staggered back, tripped on the edge of her bed, and fell back on it hard. She lay there like she was dead.

Minutes trickled past. Then, finally, she said, “I’m sorry.”

And me? I said nothing. I listened as the excuses trickled out of her.

“I was just messing with you because you were shy.”

“Everyone was doing it.”

“You know. People would go up to a girl without any friends and invite her to hang out. Set her up with a guy. It was a whole thing.”

“And then we’d all have a laugh at her expense.”

“That’s all it was. Just a game.”

Back then, it was Komachi’s way or the highway. You didn’t cross her. If she was mad at someone, icing them out was the thing to do—to teach them a lesson. No different than a toddler ripping the wings off a butterfly.

Komachi’s justification contained nothing for me. It was as clichéd and rehearsed as I had always imagined it would be. If there had been something—some new revelation, some startling motive, some vital reason to bully me—maybe I could have found it in myself to forgive her. I think that’s what I wanted—to forgive her. Deep down, I didn’t want to be mad at anyone. I didn’t want to point a weapon at the ones who hurt me. Wasn’t it tiring to fight all the time? And aren’t weapons double-edged swords? I couldn’t hurt anyone without hurting myself. Because I was weak.

And I hurt. I hurt so bad.

“So, when all is said and done…I’m sorry,” Komachi finished.

Her apology turned my stomach.

If only her empire was still standing with her at the top of the pyramid, I would’ve been happy to shoot at her from its base and walk away once she was wounded. I could have vented every bit of fury, every bit of hatred, every bit of resentment and been satisfied. I could’ve gotten my revenge, closed this chapter of my life, and set off to make a new start.

But I couldn’t. Not when she was like this.

At the end of the day, Nashiji Komachi was nothing more than another first-year high school girl. Whatever caused her fall from power was sure to be just another stale cliché: She started high school, made a social gaffe, and tumbled from her pyramid. She had always been quick to pick on other people, and now other people were quick to pick on her right back. And now she couldn’t bring herself to go to school.

God, I felt sick. Picking on Komachi’s downtrodden, dark sea-floor self was nothing more than picking on the easy target.

“Make me a promise,” I said.

I lowered my still-smoking gun and looked down at the miserable girl at my feet. My job here was done.

“Promise me you won’t tell a soul what I was like in junior high.”

“…All right.” She nodded with the sluggish motion of a fish regressively losing its eyesight in the dark. “I promise.”

“And one more thing.” I sucked in a deep breath and then, with all my strength, pushed out the words, “I’m going to forget you ever existed.”

“…All right.”

And that was it. The end of my request.

“I’m never going to think about you again,” I said.

Because it was never going to get through to her—that she should work on herself. If I could do it, she could too. She needed to learn she couldn’t let reality destroy her—but this lesson of mine was never, ever going to get through to her. People are just not made to get along with everyone. Komachi lived in the deep, dark sea, and I? I was once again walking in the full light of the sun.

I remembered Komachi’s smirk. Komachi’s “You don’t have anything else going on, do you? Come hang out with us for a bit.”

My clear refusal. “I just…don’t want to spend time with you.”

The moment my fate changed forever.

And yet…I stopped at Komachi’s door on my way out. “Before I go, let me leave you with one more thing,” I said.

“…What now?”

It was completely and totally overstepping. However, I thought I could just barely, barely see a slender thread tying the two of us together. A feeble tendril of light. Not a grudge from junior high grievances, not an ongoing antagonism. Just the natural feelings of two human beings making their way through life—waking up, eating breakfast, going through our daily routine. A part of the human existence we were both equipped with:

Familial love.

“Try not to worry your sister so much,” I said to her. Not Amaori Renako to Nashiji Komachi—a big sister to another big sister. Someone who’d lived through her own breakdowns and truancy phases extending a helping hand.

Komachi didn’t respond, but all the same, I felt a stir as a sentence finally landed on the deep-sea floor.

Spent from the outpouring of emotions, I tottered down the stairs and back out the Nashijis’ front door. Minato-san and Seira-san crouched on their heels on the porch like two wayward youths camped out in front of the convenience store. I guess they had stopped arguing—for the moment, at least.

Minato-san noticed me first. “Oneesan?” Her eyes searched me, worried. “What did you do to her?”

I felt guilty hearing that come from the sister of the mentioned her, but I couldn’t apologize after everything I’d said. It seemed kinda, y’know. Fake.

So I just told her the truth. “I finished what I came here to do.”

“…Oh. Okay.”

My goal was accomplished. My mission, complete. Komachi would never breathe a word about my dark past. I’d done it. I’d changed the past, and everything would work out all right.

Minato-san heaved a sigh. She looked just as exhausted as I felt. Seira-san too—she propped her chin on her hands and said, “Hey, Minato? I know you’ve been hiding your sis not going to school.”

Minato-san stared down at the ground, and Seira-san took that as her go-ahead to keep on talking. “Which is why you keep talking her up at school. I’m guessing that’s why you started those rumors about Oneesan-senpai too.”

“…Yeah. It was.” Apology crept into her voice. “I thought if everyone knew about my sister, it’d be hard for me to show my face.”

Probably would’ve.

She turned to me. “I’m sorry, Oneesan.”

“…It’s chill,” I said. I knew what it was like to want to protect your sister. “Big sisters can be handfuls, huh?”

Minato-san looked at me in surprise for a split second before her eyes filled with tears. “Yeah,” she said. “She is. She really, really is. But I still love her.”

“…Uh-huh.”

I felt warm inside. Fuzzy.

Komachi might have fallen far, but at least one person had her back. Kinda like past me and the girl who helped raise me up.

I grinned just as Seira-san heaved a loud, dramatic sigh. “Y’know, it’s sucked being trapped in the middle of y’all this whole time.”

“I’m sorry, Seira. I guess I owe you an apology too,” Minato-san said.

“You sure do, ya stinker.” But the words didn’t have any heat in them.

I bowed to our tireless helper. “Thanks, Seira-san.”

“Aww, you don’t need to thank me. I was just helping my friends.” Seira-san pushed herself to her feet. “I got some chores to wrap up at home, so I’m gonna take off. Also? I’ve been itchin’ to say this for ages.”

She looked Minato-san firmly in the eye, grinned, and pronounced the final lines to round off this whole saga: “You an’ Haruna are total sis-cons.”

Oh. Okay. That explained why Minato-san fell silent and blushed hard. Maybe this wasn’t a story of two big sisters, one ex-truant and one current truant. Maybe, all along, this was a story of two little sisters worrying about the ones they loved.

I waved to Seira-san and Minato-san before I turned and left the Nashiji house behind me. Sweat had ruined my makeup and left me a gross, sticky mess. I needed a bath, stat.

Before I got too far away, I turned and looked up at Komachi’s window. Were there any final words for me to direct at that heavy curtain and the dark room behind it? I considered it for maybe a second. All that came to mind were just insults aimed at myself. So I turned and resumed walking.

Big sisters, I’m telling you. We’re all hopeless.

***

After getting home and wolfing down the leftovers from dinner (I’d barely touched any food at the reunion), I climbed into the bath and scrubbed myself up. On the way back to my room, I passed my sister in the hallway.

“Oh. You’re back,” she said.

“Yeah.”

I took a good look at my sister’s face, the same face that had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. That same cheeky, obnoxious, too-mature-for-its-own-good face. That face that retained a hint of innocence despite it all. A face that sometimes, just sometimes, could be the cutest, most lovable thing in the world.

“Hey, Haruna?” I said.

“Yeah?”

I teetered on the brink of asking before tipping over onto yes. “Wanna have a sleepover tonight?”

“Say what?”

“What’s all this about, Oneechan?” she asked once the light was off and we’d both squeezed into her bed.

“Uh… You know. I just felt like it.”

Her bed was not built for two. I felt like I was going to roll off the edge at any moment.

And sure enough, here came the complaints from my sister. “Ugh. It’s hard to sleep with you here.”

Says the girl who agreed to sleep with me. Come to think of it, she always took me up on my offers to spend time together. That one bath. The trip to the zoo. Maybe it was because she loved me. (As if.)

She was so warm next to me, I could feel her body heat through my pajamas. It was a nice warm. Gentle.

“Out with it,” she said.

“Out with what?”

“What, isn’t there something you want to talk about?”

“…Yeah. You could tell?”

“I mean, why else would you offer to have a sleepover?”

“Fair.” I couldn’t help but agree. “What’d you and Mai talk about that one time?”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, no. But I am curious.”

“Ugh… Fine. I told her there was a stupid rumor going around at school, and nothing I did worked to stop it. That’s why I decided to stay home for a while.”

“Seriously?”

“You know what they say. Gossip has a shelf life of seventy-five days.”

“Is that where the two months thing came from?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Just to have a rough estimate.”

“I literally never would’ve guessed.”

“It was a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself.”

“All right, dial it back, kiddo.”

What put that idea in her head anyway? My attempts to stifle rumors about my lack of social skills only confirmed them.

“Staying home from school is kinda extreme, don’t you think? Why’d you go so far?” I asked her.

“‘Cause if they found out you’re a weirdo,” she recited back to me in a singsong voice, “my social career would be forfe—”

“Okay, I get the picture.”

“Don’t brush me off. You have the whole story now. Happy?”

I didn’t answer immediately. “…Y’know what, Haruna?” My back was glued to hers. I spoke to the wall. “Everything’s gonna be okay now.”

“…What did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s all going to be fine.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me I have to burn the house down.”

“No, no—not that. I erased my weirdo loser past. That’s all.”

“You invented a time machine?”

“I sure did,” I told her.

“You’re so full of it.”

“You wanna go, punk?”

My sister stifled a yawn. “I hope you get your life together soon.”

“I feel like I have my life together…”

“Mm. Sure.”

“Hm? Do I detect a hint of sincerity in that ‘sure’?”

“Maybe so. You have all your lovely friends to thank.”

“…Well. Yeah.” Couldn’t argue with that one. “But, Haruna?”

“Mm?”

Her voice was starting to sound drowsy, but I still had to say: “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For, you know. Everything I put you through.” A beat, and then my staccato confession. “The staying home thing. The mental breakdown. Taking out my frustration on you. Sorry about all that. I haven’t been a very good sister to you, and I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say anything, so I took that as a sign to keep going. “But you know, I try hard in my own way. I’m gonna make an effort to be your incredible big sister. I owe you, y’know? And—”

Haruna shifted behind me. She grabbed my shoulder and rolled me over to face her.

“Hm?” I said.

She sat up and lowered her face until it was just above mine.

“Wait. Um?”

She leaned in closer. Closer. Closer. And then. She bit me—on the neck?!

“Ow!” I screamed, lurching away from her. “What is your problem? You—waagh!” (This second scream being me falling off the bed.)

I hit the ground with an enormous thump. “What do you think you’re doing, Oneechan?” Haruna asked, leaning over the side of the bed to smirk at me. She stuck out her tongue. “You’ve got a long way to go before you can worry about me.”

There was nothing I could say to that, so I merely groaned and rubbed my sore neck and butt. Maybe so! But she could’ve been a little nicer about it! Freaking Haruna!

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 3

“PLEASE, HARUNA-SENPAI!” Haruna’s older sister begged, and she bowed like her life depended on it. “You have to help me!”

Renako—back then, halfway through her third year of junior high—stood in front of her seated, arms-folded sister.

“You want to reinvent your image for high school?” Haruna repeated.

“Yes, exactly.”

A word echoed in Haruna’s mind: Liar. Renako was lying again; Haruna was sure of it. Renako never failed to let her down. She had been lackluster before she stopped going to school and doubly so after it. Her popularity was in the negatives. She failed to understand other people’s feelings, and she had the tact of a brick.

Haruna had been a fool for idolizing Renako as a child. The dependability she saw? That was all impudence. The adaptability? People-pleasing doormat-hood. Every passing year stripped another layer off the illusion. Now Renako stood before her naked, a skeleton deprived of skin and flesh, her head bowed.

Haruna looked her up and down. Saying no would have been so easy. Why not turn her sister away? Why not be true to the betrayal she felt in her heart? If she got her hopes up, Renako would only disappoint her again. She would only hate Renako worse. And just look at that thought process! Even now she still had hope. She dreamed that one day her sister could shine like she had once done as a child. That Renako would return to being the incredible big sister she once was.

What a stupid thing to think. Haruna never learned. The insults she directed at her sister came around to lodge in her own heart. She was still the same stupid little kid clinging to her big sister.

So, oh well, what the hell?

“I’m down to help, but are you sure about this?”

This was it. The last chance to settle the score for her sister—and her own heart. As good of an excuse as any to give up on a family member, no? Should Renako fail, Haruna would have wasted her time, but the object of her anguish would disappear from her life for good. That was a worthy trade-off, she thought.

“First things first,” she said, “we gotta do something about that hair.”

“Huh?” said Renako.

“We need to get you to a beauty salon so you can ditch the emo haircut. Then when you can finally see again, we’ll take the next step. Listen up: We’re not going to half-ass this. If you run out on me sobbing partway through, you’re dead to me. Got it?”

Renako’s feet stayed rooted to the floor, but her head dropped even lower in a reverential bow. “Thank you so, so much.”

It wasn’t going to do any good, Haruna knew. But why did she care? Lost causes were lost causes. Better to quit while you were ahead, right?

But Renako said, “I’ll try my very hardest!”

Haruna paused and turned back to look at her sister. “Hm?”

Surely this was just a phase Renako was going through, but there was an awful lot of determination in her eyes for a passing phase. Haruna was intrigued. What did Renako think she was going to do? Renako hadn’t tried at anything, not once, in the last three years.

Haruna’s old admiration for Renako twinged like a faded scar over an old wound.

Renako stood in front of the bathroom mirror with her scissors poised just before her bangs. She chanted like a prayer, “I’m going to try my hardest. I’m going to try my hardest.” She stared down her mirror self with the determination of someone staring down her archnemesis.

Haruna sucked in her breath and ducked behind the wall. She clamped her hand over her mouth. She’d messed up. Oh, she’d really, really messed up. She, frankly, had never been more careless in her life. She really, really shouldn’t have let her guard down.

A single tear crawled its way down her cheek. She remembered when she was small and she’d bared her soul to her sister, asking how it was possible to make the other kids not hate her. Renako’s words had been salvation, and now—now Haruna realized her little-kid self and her big sister were not so different. Her sister was baffled and blindsided by life at every turn, but nevertheless, she was determined to grow and change herself.

Haruna’s heart exploded with feeling.

“Take two!” Renako chanted at the mirror. “It all starts…now!”

Now Haruna understood what Renako was fighting for. The trials Haruna had battled when she was little were the kinds of problems anyone could have—even her sister. Her sister was facing down one such battle, and she’d finally chosen not to run.

Oh, Oneechan, Haruna thought. She couldn’t give a name to the emotions flooding her eyes with tears. It was just pure feeling pouring out and trickling down her cheeks. Her throat clenched up with the weight of everything she had been holding back for three years. Oneechan!

Haruna would never get her old sister back. Those beautiful childhood memories would probably always be a sore bruise—but so what? Her sister would keep on growing and changing. Haruna didn’t know what shore Renako would finally wash up on, but it didn’t make a difference. She would always be Amaori Renako. The once beloved Amaori Renako.

Haruna stifled her sobs and sent up an internal prayer. May everything in Renako’s life turn out all right. May all obstacles be cleared from her path. May anything and everything go her way. May every single person on the planet Earth love Haruna’s big sister. May Renako turn over her new leaf and make tons of friends, oodles of friends. May she find a partner someday. May every day bring her happiness forever and ever and ever.

Because that’s what Haruna needed to be happy. Renako’s happiness was, well, her happiness. She and her sister were mirror images, constantly affecting each other’s lives. That was, after all, what being sisters was all about.

Please let Renako be happy, Haruna thought. For me. For the sister that was her other half.

Haruna took a deep breath, wiped her tears, and squared her shoulders before barging into the bathroom. “Oneechan!” she snapped.

“Huh?!”

Renako whirled. Her appalling haircut job taunted Haruna.

“I said, I’m taking you to a salon. What do you think you’re doing, cutting your own hair?”

“Uh… You said once I could see…I could take the next step… Wasn’t this what you meant?”

“No! I did not mean take the scissors to yourself and start hacking! You need a real haircut. What am I going to do with you?”

Renako shrank back in fear, and Haruna sighed. “Oh well. On to face washing and skincare, I guess.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll book you an appointment with the salon for your next cut. Got it?”

“Y…yes’m!”

Haruna groaned. (Who did Renako think she was, a soldier straight out of boot camp?) “Oneechan, what would you do without me?”

It was a first step, at least—the first step on the long road toward a new relationship between the Amaori sisters.

Epilogue

LET’S FAST-FORWARD A LITTLE, shall we?

Seira-san messaged me some time later. (By then, I’d unblocked her.) Minato-san wanted my number; could she pass it on? Go for it, I said.

And while she was here, Seira-san reminded me, did I remember my promise to introduce her to Mai? Hint hint? Evidently, Seira-san and I were cool again.

Seira-san: friend of my little sister, cosplay buddy of Kaho-chan, fan of Mai. She may have been a couple of years younger than me, but she was so naturally friendly I felt like maybe we could be friends ourselves someday. You know what? I liked Seira-san.

Minato-san wanted to talk to me about her sister. She said Nashiji Komachi had stopped going to school about half a year ago.

I’m sorry, she wrote. I have a lot of things I want to talk through with my sister, but right now I’m giving her space. I don’t think it’s smart to bother her right now. My relatives are talking about her enough as it is, and I don’t want to put more on her plate. Still—thank you. Really.

Responding was…difficult. A perfunctory “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me.” was probably socially acceptable—but as we all know, I wasn’t mature enough for that yet. I still didn’t know how I felt about Komachi. How I wanted to feel about her. Did I want her to stay stuffed up in that time-stopped room for the rest of her life? Did I want her to go back to school and lord it up as the queen bee again? To be honest with you, I really didn’t know. People are complicated like that.

I don’t think I fully got over the traumatic experience that was junior high. I may have shown up Nashiji-san, but there were other potential bullies out there—other people who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not worrying and standing up for myself were both easier said than done. Maybe I was never quite going to shake my concern of what other people thought of me.

But later, when I heard that Nashiji-san had gone back to school, I felt, well…changing the course of someone’s life always touches you. Y’know?

And so time marched on.

***

The winter cold set in. Pretty soon I started yearning to bust out the coats. Better yet, the scarves.

I glanced down as I walked through the front door one afternoon and recognized two extra pairs of shoes. Oh ho.

I tiptoed up the stairs. I barely had to reach the landing before I started catching scraps of excited conversation. I strained my ears.

“…Like, I’m just saying… No, but for real.”

“No way. Haruna, you… But like actually, though.”

“Totally.”

Three distinct voices.

Yes, everything was back to normal now. Maybe Haruna and her friends would’ve reconnected even if I hadn’t intervened. But oh well. I did what I did because I wanted to. Let’s set the record straight—it was all for me and always was. I had zero plans to gloat or lord it over my little sister, believe me.

But…who was I kidding? A little gloating never hurt anybody. And Haruna was always getting one up over me!

I folded my arms and nodded, horribly smug, before turning back to my own room—just as my sister’s bedroom door opened. Eep.

“Hey, it’s Oneesan-senpai!” Seira-san cried.

“Hey there,” said Minato-san. Both girls nodded hi.

“H-hey there,” I said with a nod back. I hated being caught off guard!

Just then, it struck me that something was not quite right. Seira-san and Minato-san exchanged awkward grins with each other. What? Had my mask slipped? Was I dead to them now that they had no more use for me? Did they say hi to me before they realized they had no idea what to say?! Being the eldest of us three, it fell on me to carry on the conversation. But I didn’t have that social skill! My small talk stocks were depleted!

I settled on something appropriately big sister-y—“You kids have fun”—before turning to beat a hasty retreat. I could use a predefined role as a mask and follow the script that went along with it. Hooray for strictly defined social roles!

But I didn’t get far before Seira-san and Minato-san clapped their hands on my shoulders, preventing my escape. Hello?

“Uh, so Haruna told us the news…” Minato-san begin.

“We ’preciate you helping us when you had so much else on your plate,” Seira-san added.

“Huh? What else was on my plate?” (???)

Haruna fake-laughed, which was never a good sign.

“What did you tell them, Haruna?” I demanded.

“Who, me?”

“What’d you say?!” I lunged for her.

Haruna didn’t meet my eye. “I didn’t think you were hiding it…so I may have let slip that you were dating Mai-senpai.”

“Excuse me?!” My eyes bugged out of my head. Privacy was a thing, Haruna!!!

And then it hit me why Minato-san and Seira-san had adopted such looks of pity. “Don’t tell me,” I said. “Did you…?”

“It’s okay, Oneesan-senpai,” Seira-san consoled. “There are other fish in the sea.”

“You can always tell people you used to date Oduka Mai,” Minato-san pointed out. “I bet that’d get you a new girlfriend in no time. Good luck!”

I groaned. “Oh my GOD! For the last time, we did not break up.”

The junior high trio didn’t listen.

“Oh, for the love of Pete…” I was in literal Hell. How was I supposed to get myself out of this one?

Haruna did it for me with a quick clearing of her throat. “Now that she’s out of the picture, Oneechan…” She cleared her throat again and then, with a smile so big and bright it was obviously meant to tease, proposed, “Can I be a future girlfriend candidate?”

Her cheeks were tinged a faint pink, made bashful by the audacity of her own joke.

I hit my sister—my sister who said things no sister had any right saying—with a taste of her own medicine, “You’ve got a long way to go before you can worry about me!”

The au-freaking-dacity! I swear to God, Amaori Haruna-chan!

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Redux

A PLAINTIVE SCREAM: “Why don’t you understand me?” The slam of a door. A pair of cheeks flushed red; a forehead beaded with sweat.

It was so rare, Satsuki marveled, to see her beloathed bestie in a state of upset that she spoke up in concern before she could think better of it. “Are you all right?”

Mai remembered where she was and looked up with a start. “Satsuki? What are you doing here?”

Here being Queen Rose’s headquarters. Satsuki had her personal reasons for frequenting Queen Rose, but of course Mai couldn’t be told about that. Instead, Satsuki said, “Your mother wants me to model again.”

“Oh? You’ll do a splendid job, I’m sure.”

“After years with no practice? I think not. The job was only offered because I know you. Accepting would be taking work from the hands of people who’ve actually worked at it.”

Oh, she didn’t want to waste her time on an argument with Mai. Not about this. Satsuki hurried the conversation along to another topic. “Enough about that. Did I overhear you fighting with your mother?”

“…You did,” Mai admitted. A shadow fell across her face.

Satsuki and Mai moved to the lounge area and took neighboring seats on the same sofa. The dark cloud had come home to stay on Mai’s face.

“It’s the whole fiancée business,” Mai said. “Maman refuses to retract the press release.”

“Oh dear,” said Satsuki. “That sounds challenging.”

“You have no idea. I don’t understand what is possessing her to be so very stubborn. I know I’ve made more than my fair share of careless mistakes, but to push the talk of marriage so soon, really…”

Mai looked completely at a loss. Yes, and about that… Satsuki thought. The last thing she wanted was for Mai to notice her involvement, so she carefully whisked the conversation along once more. Mai was quick to pick up on changes in people’s behavior, a powerful skill developed under the eye of the camera and often applied in assessing her peers.

“Your mother asked me how you were doing at school,” Satsuki remarked. “Not too long back.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Just routine questions,” she assured Mai. “But there was one that caught my attention… She asked if you were dating anyone. I suppose she’s noticed.”

“…But why should she care if I am?”

“A high school boyfriend or girlfriend is hardly to be trusted, no? She must want to offer you a more suitable partner instead.”

Mai fell silent. Her mother’s intervention was the definition of meddling, but it was meddling driven by love—a perfect recipe for mixed feelings.

“If I were perhaps to introduce her to Renako…” Mai began.

“Do you really think that would solve anything? You know Renako.”

Mai said nothing once more. Yes, she did know Renako.

Satsuki thanked all the powers that be that Mai accepted the truth. Had her comment sparked a flare-up of Mai’s blind love for Renako, all of Satsuki’s planning would have gone down the drain. Thank you, Renako, she thought. Thank you for being a loser.

“You also have your arrangement with Sena,” Satsuki noted. “Don’t you?”

“…I do.” Mai lowered her voice. No one was likely to recognize the three-way relationship as legitimate even if Mai were to come forward about it. (Much less the four-timing Reneé Oduka was concerned about—but that was ultimately a misunderstanding on her part.) “All the same, I don’t want to give up Renako. I will find a way for us to be together.”

Satsuki said nothing at first. There was a shine in Mai’s eyes that made her shift in her seat. “I had a thought.” She worked to make her voice sound natural. “To be perfectly frank, I don’t give a fig what happens to you. You and Amaori can do whatever you like—but I would hate to see anything happen to break Sena’s heart.”

She looked Mai straight in the eye. “What if,” she suggested, “you and I pretend to date?”

Mai stared back at Satsuki, too surprised to speak.

“If, by all appearances, we seem to be dating, there is every chance it will drive away your fiancée—Lucie.” Satsuki tried her hardest not to speak too fast. Her heart thumped in her chest. Mai’s face—her very attractive face—was trained right on her. “At the very least, your mother knows and trusts me better than the rest of our friends. Surely she would accept me as your partner. You and I can act as we always do in private, and we’ll simply pretend to be girlfriends in public. Your mother will be none the wiser—”

Mai lunged forward and grabbed Satsuki’s hand in an iron grip. “Hm?” Satsuki started.

“Do you really mean it?” Mai said. Her face glowed.

“Y-yes…?” Satsuki found herself rather intimidated, but she managed to nod.

“You would go so far just for me? Oh, Satsuki, I cannot thank you enough! You are such a kind person.” Mai threw herself at Satsuki and pulled the other girl into her embrace.

“…I-I suppose.” Satsuki felt, inexplicably, guilty. Guilty? She hadn’t expected such enthusiasm out of Mai.

“Oh, meeting you was the best stroke of fortune I’ve ever had,” Mai went on. “Really, thank you, Satsuki. I’m so glad to know you.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Satsuki reminded her. “Your mother still needs to give her seal of approval.”

“Pish. What are you saying? You’re the ideal partner. Were I to be president of the United States, the entire country would be lucky to have you as first lady. You’re simply perfect.”

“You exaggerate!” Satsuki yanked herself out of Mai’s suffocating stranglehold of a hug and gasped for breath. Who did this girl think she was? “And you had better be ready for a fight.”

“Why’s that now?” Mai smiled like all her problems were now long behind her. It irritated Satsuki to no end.

“Lucie won’t let you go so easily,” Satsuki reminded her.

Mai just chuckled. “Ha,” she added—aloud. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for us. It’s you and I, after all. And Lucie is such a sweet girl.”

There was no point in arguing it further, and it was all Satsuki could do to stop her true feelings from showing on her face. This was exactly what Satsuki loathed about Mai. How dare you, she cursed. How dare you let girls like me hoodwink you so easily?!

She didn’t say it aloud, of course. Nor did she sock Mai in the stomach (although it did take all her powers of reason to throttle the urge).

Come the following week, word went out of the latest development in Oduka Mai’s love life: Oduka Mai and Koto Satsuki were engaged to be married.

Naturally, this kicked off a whirlwind of events. Yet perhaps “whirlwind” was not the most appropriate term. A cold winter’s wind, too, lacks something of the intensity.

Yes, it might be better to go with a hurricane of events.

Afterword

NICE TO MEET YOU. My name is Teren Mikami.

I need to start with an apology. The second half will be here soon, I said. This book will be shorter, I said. Boy, those sure were things I said in the afterword of Volume 6.

Um. Sorry!!! Work, uh…got in the way… Eh heh.

I know I shouldn’t say this, buuuut Volume 8 is coming soon! (Tee hee.) I won’t leave you hanging an entire year again. Trust me! You can trust me, right? Right?!

If I end up lying again, you have full permission to stick a needle in my eye.

Now that I have flawlessly convinced the readers of my trustworthiness (I say as I avoid eye contact), let’s get the afterword for Volume 7 underway. I have a lot to talk about! They gave me eight pages for the Japanese release, and boy, did I use them.

You have no right to talk like this after making your readers wait a year!

Yes’m…

A LOOK BACK ON VOLUME 7 (NO SPOILERS FOR VOLUME 7 HERE!)

Let’s kick this afterward off with a discussion of the book. Volume 7 is a story about the Amaori sisters. Sister yuri is a staple of the yuri genre, and I am, of course, a huge fan. I couldn’t resist adding a few healthy dashes of sister yuri flavor. I hope you enjoyed seeing each sister from the other’s point of view, the special relationship they have as family, and the unique quality of this thing known as sisterhood. Gosh, aren’t sisters great? Yeah…

This book starts with Chapter 5 because it’s the latter half of a two-part story. Every book in this series winds up containing a bathing scene ft. Renako and another girl in its second chapter. Coincidence, I suppose. But because this book doesn’t have a proper Chapter 2, I told myself there would be no bathing scene. Then I sat down to write, and whaddya know? Another coincidental bathing scene made its way into the manuscript. Funny how that happens. (I feel bad for the anime animators having to color so many flesh tones. These are troubled times in every industry…)

Renako also has a power-up montage in preparation for the Season 2 finale, which was part of the reason we had to split this story into two parts. What happens when the main character powers up? Why, she can take on even bigger challenges! And so Renako continues to broaden her horizons.

Good luck out there, main character.

THE COVER (NO SPOILERS HERE!)

This is the first cover that Renako’s rocked solo. Woo!

Granted, it’s not Renako as she appears in the present day (if we wanna get technical). I asked Eku Takushima-san to draw her with a determined look in her eyes. I love stories about characters who struggle and strive to grow and change—because I suck at it. I want my characters to surpass me and strive on my behalf. Show me what it looks like to shine!

That’s your job, Amaori Renako, ’cause you’re the main character of this story.

WHAT’S NEXT

The next volume will bring us to the finale of Season 2. I’m not sure if it will be short enough to fit in one book—that’d make for a very long book—but it’s fine. I already know what I want to write. Yes. Totally.

Like the final volume of Season 1, you should expect to see big relationship changes. I hope I’ll meet and exceed your expectations! I’m racking my brains for ideas as we speak. I hope you look forward to the final product. Just like Renako, I’m trying my best…!

Acknowledgments time.

Eku Takushima-sensei, thank you for yet another volume’s worth of cute girl illustrations. Likewise, thank you for including another set of sketches with your thoughts on the book. You’re the best! I would be dead without your art. You and me, let’s shoot for the light novel stars together…!

K-hara-san (my editor), thank you for all your assistance. As our fan mail pile grows and I bombard you with requests on the daily, I am constantly amazed by and learning from your commitment to value our community of readers. Thank you!

I also extend my thanks to everyone who worked together to bring this book to life.

Next up, a huge thank you to both Mushu-sensei (the manga artist) and Amida-san (the manga editor). It’s hard to believe we’re already entering the Volume 4 arc! Have fun drawing widdle Kaho-tya.

And (for those of you who read Japanese), please check out my other yuri rom-com AriOto! I’m fighting a deadline on that series as we speak. Good luck, me… Good luck!

In the next volume, a certain character who has been lurking in the shadows will finally get her chance to take center stage. This will be the culmination of everything Season 2 has been leading up to, and I promise to do my very best to deliver it to you in the best possible shape.

Teren Mikami, signing off!

Afterword 2

BUT WAIT! There’s more.

Readers, I have an announcement to make. That’s right. TNFWIBYLU is getting an anime. Woo-hoo!

Every light novel author dreams of getting an anime adaptation. I am beyond grateful to have reached this milestone, so I would like to take the opportunity to extend my thanks to all of you. This literally, really and truly, couldn’t have happened without you. Who am I referring to? Every person who has read this series, told your friends it’s good, or otherwise supported it in some way. That’s right—you, the one reading this! You! (Sorry to put you on the spot.)

We live in a world with truly endless forms of entertainment—much of it both free and high-quality. That you still chose to spend money on this series means the world to me. To return the favor—even if partially so—I promise to continue to deliver this slightly eccentric yuri story. I hope readers can find something special in this story, something you can only get here, not from any other form of content you consume. If I can achieve that, that’s the best way to return the favor there could possibly be.

So enjoy the world of TNFWIBYLU! You can’t get this anywhere else!

And with that, on to the anime stuff. Wee!

THE DAY I GOT THE ANNOUNCEMENT

I literally double-checked just now—I was first told about an anime adaptation on November 28th, 2022. Two whole years ago!

It all started with a phone call. The moment my editor told me Shueisha received an offer to turn TNFWIBYLU into an anime, my emotions switched off. I remember being like, “Oh. Okay then.”

Anime adaptations are scary, people! Can you blame me?

This year marks the tenth anniversary (more or less) of me starting my career in writing light novels. Throughout this decade, I’ve heard lots of stories—and horror stories!—from my colleagues about their anime adaptations. It’s not uncommon for such adaptations to fall through, etc., etc. Were I to pour all my energy, all my excitement into hoping and dreaming about the anime only for it fall through on me—well, the outcome wouldn’t be pretty.

So, as a defensive measure, I worked to keep my expectations in check. I spent the past couple of years sending myself constant reminders that it’s too soon to celebrate. (I’m kind of a piece of work.)

THE FIRST MEETING

The main staffing decisions were finalized not long after I got that first announcement. Main staffing = the director, the character designer, the screenwriter, etc. All the people who do the actual work of making an anime.

We’re talking the summer of 2023 by this point—a good six or so months after the offer was finalized. I hear this is about how long (if not a bit quicker than) it usually takes. Making an anime sure is a time-consuming process!

The meeting was held in one of the large conference rooms at Shueisha. I think there were what, twenty people there? Mostly Shueisha VIPs and anime people. Ah, I thought, translating it into terms I could understand, it’s like a kick-off party!

There was a lot of back-and-forth about anime stuff and people’s thoughts on the series. I got to speak at the very end. (It’s baffling to me that the author is the last to speak, but that’s how it goes.) I dithered a bit and said there was one thing I had solidified in my mind upon hearing of the anime’s creation: the soul of TNFWIBYLU.

This is a yuri series, so its soul is yuri, correct? Sort of. Half of the soul is yuri, but there’s more to it than that. I thought it would be a waste of time to ask people who had never worked on yuri (or don’t like messy yuri) to create a yuri series of their own. Now I, being a lover of messy yuri, was allowed to oversee editorial decisions on the various critical yuri elements. Meanwhile, the production team worked to center the series on the other half of TNFWIBYLU’s soul: telling the world just how awesome hardworking girls are. Yes! We shall spread to the masses the wonders of girls who put their heart and soul into everything they do. This theme is especially appropriate for the medium, I think, as anime adaptations broaden light novel fanbases.

What I didn’t know is that the screenwriter Arukawa Naruhisa-san (famous for Kamen Rider Black, Kamen Rider Kuuga, and Super Sentai) was a messy yuri fan and die-hard reader of the Yuri Hime magazine. He was so excited to work on this story he volunteered to write the entire script himself.

So we have our crew members. On to the next phase: writing the script. (Or as we in the biz call it, “script reading.”)

SCRIPT READING

I started coming to the Shueisha offices every week to review the script in one of the board rooms. Arukawa-san understood all my points on the yuri front, so we quickly developed a very comfortable collaborating environment.

We started in autumn and wrapped up in winter (I think it was right around New Year’s 2024). This was super fun—but super time-consuming! I hadn’t realized how much work it would take to make an anime.

I’d heard through the grapevine in my ten years of light novel authorship that the original author has quite a lot of authority in the script reading process. Therefore, I tried to be as careful as possible whenever I spoke up. I planned on reciting my editorial comments before meetings such that I could explain what changes I wanted, and why, with utmost clarity.

Inevitably, it all came out like “Uh, so this part? Yeah, it’s not right.” Authors are terrible! (Or so I can only assume everyone at the table was thinking.) I didn’t want to upset anyone with my horrible authority! I wasn’t a monster! Please!

That’s why I started phrasing my opinions like “Well, this is just what I think. I would love to hear everyone else’s opinions.” Even then, I feel like the anime staff catered to my demands quite a lot…

Still! We had a lot of laughs, because this series is quite funny. I think we all had a good time working together.

Also—complete non-sequitur, but I got a kick out of full-grown adults calling Ajisai and Satsuki “Ajisai-san” and “Satsuki-san.” (Renako was always “Renako.”)

IN CONCLUSION

I asked for two extra pages in this afterword, and I’ve already run out… I haven’t even gotten to the recording process… (That line at the beginning where I said “They gave me eight pages”? Yeah, that was a lie. Oops.)

I have so much more I want to say, so if I get the chance, I’ll continue this on Fanbox or X (formerly Twitter). Or the afterword of Volume 8, I guess.

As I write this, the rest of the team is hard at work bringing the charms of TNFWIBYLU to life. Funnily enough, a surprisingly large number of the staff are huge fans of the series—even the director. (I’ve heard “Renako is me!” from like four different people. Renako, what did you do…?)

I guess, at long last, it might be time to start celebrating.

Someday, I’d love to see an anime adaptation of This Is a Story of a Girl Who Insists It’s Ridiculous to Date Another Girl but Falls Head Over Heels in 100 Days too! (Will this ever happen? No, no freaking way.)

All righty! With this happy announcement, that’s all I’ve got for you.

Teren Mikami, signing off!

Creator Bios

AUTHOR BIO

Mikami Teren

BORN ON DECEMBER 16 IN SAITAMA

TNFWIBYLU is getting an anime??? It doesn’t feel real…

One of my favorite characters is Kochou Shinobu.

It’s all going to be okay, because this is a Teren Mikami yuri book!

ILLUSTRATOR BIO

Takeshima Eku

BORN ON APRIL 23 IN OKAYAMA

I’m an illustrator and manga artist specializing in yuri.

TNFWIBYLU is getting an anime! Woo-hoo!

I’m too excited. Here’s hoping people love it and TNFWIBYLU continues for many, many more books.

Widget HTML #1

There’s No Freaking Way I’ll be Your Lover! Unless… Vol 7

Table of Contents

Chapter 5:
The Horrors™ Persist? No Freaking Way!

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 2

Chapter 6:
Recover from This Setback? No Freaking Way!

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 4

Chapter 7:
There’s No Freaking Way I Can Win the Sister Squabble of the Century!

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 5

Chapter 8:
There’s No Freaking Way I Can be a Big Sister! (Unless…?)

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Chapter 3

Epilogue

The Amaori Haruna Side of the Story:
Redux

Afterword

Afterword 2

Creator Bios