Jinseigyakuten Uwakisare Enzai wo Kiserareta Orega Gakuenichi no Bisyoujo ni Natsukareru [LN] Bahasa Indonesia

 

Chapter 2: Strange Chameleon

---

The world keeps turning, even outside my field of vision.

Up until now, I’d never cared what happened out there. I had no friends, so it all felt completely unrelated to me. But today was different.

“That girl, she was at the university’s smoking area.”

Waiting for a lull in customers, Sake-bag came over to me at the register, abandoning his shelf-stocking duties. He said it with a triumphant air.

When I looked at him, confused as to what he was talking about, he scowled for a second as if to say, You’re slow on the uptake, and continued with a smirk.

“The pretty girl who always comes to the store to buy cigarettes. You said she might go to the same university, right?”

I realized he meant Number Twenty-Five-san. At the same time, a stir of unease went through my chest.

“I was thinking I’d never seen her around, but it turns out our campuses are separate. Our university is split in two by a road, you see. I’m in the economics department, and she’s in the literature department. She was on the campus across the street.”

“You went all the way to another campus just to look for her?”

“I had time before my next class. Figured she might be on the other campus. So I took a peek at the smoking area, and bingo. Spotted her right away.”

“Did you ask her what department she was in?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, you said she was in the literature department.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. It came up in conversation. Now that you mention it, she does seem like the literature type, you know? That mysterious vibe? I went up to her and said, ‘I work at the convenience store you always buy cigarettes from,’ and it turns out she remembered me, too. She said she likes novels, so I was like, ‘I love books, too!’”

“You like books?”

“Yeah, I do. Surprising, right? But I read a ton.”

“What kind of stuff do you read?”

“Business books and whatnot. I know this company president, and I read the book he put out. It’s from a publisher called Tsunagari Shuppan. You know it?”

“Sorry, I don’t.”

“Right. Figured you wouldn’t be the type to read business books, Enocchi.”

“I see.”

“The conversation was going great, we were really hitting it off. But then her friend came and interrupted. Pulled her away like we were at an idol’s handshake event. It was such a shame. I was this close to getting Hazuki-san’s number.”

“Hazuki-san?”

“That’s her name. Hazuki Rui-san, she said.”

The moment her name left Sake-bag’s lips, something bitter welled up inside me.

I hadn’t known her name. To me, she had been Number Twenty-Five-san. Hearing her name from Sake-bag was deeply unpleasant.

“But now I can see her anytime I go to the smoking area. And she’ll probably come to the store again. Plenty of chances, right?”

Sake-bag said that, then added, “When she comes to the store, I’ll handle the register. That cool with you, Enocchi?”

“…I can’t promise anything,” I replied vaguely. “If Sakurada-san is stocking shelves, she might have to wait. And if other customers are lined up, she might come to my register instead.”

“You’re supposed to just say ‘Got it!’ in that situation. You’re no fun. You’ll never be popular like that.”

It’s not that I was no fun. Well, maybe I was. I just didn’t want to say “Got it,” not even as a formality.

Even if I couldn’t refuse outright, I didn’t want to play along with Sake-bag. My pride wouldn’t allow it.

After that, Sake-bag went on and on, telling me about how much his club relied on him, and how a senior alumnus from the club lived in a high-rise tower apartment.

About how he was making as much as a new graduate’s monthly salary at a cushy part-time job at a friend’s relative’s company. About how he could quit this convenience store job anytime, but was staying because the manager begged him to.

That day, Number Twenty-Five-san didn’t come to the store to buy cigarettes. For once, I was glad she didn’t come.

I didn’t want to see her and Sake-bag talking cheerfully.

Sometimes I forget to lock my front door.

It never happens when I leave for school. I’m meticulous about checking then. But I sometimes forget to lock it after I get home.

That was the case today. I had forgotten to lock up after returning from my shift. I only realized it just before midnight.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of the door opening. I’d just gotten out of the bath and was ready for bed, so I was startled. The fact that I was in my pajamas and completely defenseless made it worse.

My first thought was a burglar. Someone breaking in to steal my valuables. But then it struck me as odd. This rundown apartment? There had to be better targets. Would anyone really break into this room, which so obviously had nothing of value?

To make a long story short, it wasn’t a burglar. The visitor was Number Twenty-Five-san. Dressed in casual clothes, she was holding a plastic convenience store bag.

“ Clerk-san?”

Her face was flushed. Seeing me sitting at the living room table, she blinked in confusion.

“Why is the clerk in my room?”

“Huh?”

“Wait a minute.” Number Twenty-Five-san looked around. The layout was the same, but the furniture was probably completely different. “Huh? Wha…?”

Then she turned back to me and asked, “Is this… your room,  Clerk-san?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Which means… this isn’t my room?”

“Your room is next door, Number Twenty-Five-san.”

“……”

Number Twenty-Five-san put a hand on her chin and thought for a moment.

“I guess I got the wrong room.”

“It would appear so.”

She had an embarrassed smile on her reddened cheeks. Her eyes were hazy. She gave off a sort of floaty vibe.

“Are you drunk?”

“I had a seminar drinking party.”

I see. So that’s why she didn’t come to buy cigarettes today.

“All-you-can-eat, all-you-can-drink. The professor paid for everything.”

“And you got wasted,” I said, then noticed the contents of her plastic bag and was surprised. “So why did you buy more alcohol?”

“I was planning to have a nightcap by myself. But this works out perfectly.”

With that, Number Twenty-Five-san placed the bag, which contained a can of highball, on the table in front of me with a soft thud.

“Would you join me,  Clerk-san?”

“I can’t drink. But if you don’t mind that.”

“Hee hee. That’s okaaay~.”

Number Twenty-Five-san giggled and sat down next to me. She was close. If I leaned just a little, our shoulders would touch.

Mingled with the lingering scent of alcohol and izakaya food was her own pleasant smell.

She took the can of highball from the bag and pulled the tab. Kashu. The satisfying sound echoed in the small room.

She held the can with both hands as she drank, as if cradling it. Her posture when she smoked was cool, but the way she drank was rather cute, I thought.

“Should I get you something to snack on?”

“You would?”

“Drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good for you,” I said. I stood up, opened the kitchen cupboard, and looked for something that could pass as a snack. Not that I had much. I’m not a drinker, nor am I wealthy. There was nothing that could truly be called a snack.

“Is hiyayakko okay?”

---

(T/N: Hiyayakko is a simple Japanese dish made of chilled tofu, typically soft or silken, served with toppings like soy sauce, grated ginger, green onions, or bonito flakes. It’s light, refreshing, and often eaten as a side dish or snack, especially in warm weather. In the context of your scenario, it could pass as a quick, minimal snack to pair with drinking, though it’s not substantial)

---

“Totally okay.”

I took out one of the three blocks of silken tofu, placed it on a plate, added ginger and green onion as garnish, then drizzled it with mentsuyu and sesame oil.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you. You’re so thoughtful,  Clerk-san,” Number Twenty-Five-san said with a smile. “You’re like a butler.”

“Then I suppose that makes you the young mistress, Number Twenty-Five-san.”

She seems like she’d be a rewarding master to serve, I thought. The type who would enjoy tormenting her butler with impossible requests.

After Number Twenty-Five-san took a bite of the cold tofu, I brought up a new topic.

“What kind of seminar are you in?”

“A creative writing seminar. We write stories, read them, and critique them. It seemed easier than the other seminars.”

“You write novels?”

“I do. When there’s an assignment. Just short stories, though.”

“Still, that’s amazing. What kind of things do you write?”

“All sorts. Romances, things that are kind of like I-novels. I even wrote a story where all the seminar students get killed off one by one.”

“How was that last one received?”

“It was a huge hit. It was an inside joke, you know.”

But if I had written something like that, I felt it wouldn’t have been accepted. Number Twenty-Five-san was probably very popular in her seminar.

“How about you,  Clerk-san? Have you made any friends?”

“Not at all. Nothing’s changed.”

“I see. That’s good to hear.”

Hearing my answer, Number Twenty-Five-san tilted her can of highball in satisfaction. Taking advantage of her drunken state, I slipped in a question.

“Your name is Rui-san, isn’t it?”

“Pardon?”

“Number Twenty-Five-san’s name.”

“Did I tell you my name,  Clerk-san?”

“I heard it. From someone on the same shift as me. Someone who goes to the same university as you. They said they talked to you at the smoking area.”

“Someone on the same shift?”

“You don’t remember? The guy with the light brown hair. Said he liked books.”

“…Ah, I remember now,” she murmured vaguely after a long pause. I was a little relieved it didn’t come to her immediately.

“He said the conversation was going really well.”

“Did he?”

“According to him, at least.”

“Hmm,” Number Twenty-Five-san hummed noncommittally. She sounded uninterested. “What did you think when you heard that,  Clerk-san?”

“About what?”

“My name. Did you want to hear it from my lips?”

“…Well, I guess so.”

At the very least, I hadn’t wanted to hear it from Sake-bag. It felt like he had stomped all over something important with muddy shoes. That was for sure.

“But he doesn’t know, does he? My other name.”

“Your other name?”

“Number Twenty-Five-san.”

Number Twenty-Five-san smiled faintly as she said it.

“I’ve actually grown quite fond of this name. The nickname you gave me. No one else calls me that, though.”

“But I know your real name now. It’d be weird to keep calling you that, wouldn’t it? What should I call you from now on? Hazuki-san?”

“I’d be happier if you used my first name rather than my last.”

“…Rui-san.”

Number Twenty-Five-san—or rather, Rui-san—smiled softly. Hazuki Rui-san. The sterile name of Number 25 was now colored in.

“Well then, now it’s my turn.”

“Meaning?”

“Your name,  Clerk-san. It’s not fair that you’re the only one who knows my real name.”

“It’s not like it’s my true name or anything,” I said with a wry smile, then continued. “It’s Enoki. Enoki Yuito.”

“Enoki-kun,” Rui-san said. My name. For the first time. “Or Yuito-kun. Which do you prefer?”

“Either is fine.”

“Then let’s go with Yuito-kun. Other people probably call you Enoki-kun. Besides, you’re calling me by my first name, too.”

Rui-san said that, then let out a little laugh.

“Thinking about it now, it’s funny that we’ve talked so much as neighbors without ever knowing each other’s names.”

Number Twenty-Five-san and  Clerk-san.

We had gained another name for each other.

Rui-san was completely wasted, but I secretly hoped that when she woke up tomorrow morning, she wouldn’t have forgotten this.

Morning. Sunlight streamed into the room, and my consciousness returned.

Shaking off the drowsiness, I sat up in bed.

The usual morning. The usual room. But the scene was just a little different from usual.

At the foot of my bed, on the carpet that was partially covered by the table, lay Rui-san. She was curled up like a caterpillar, breathing softly in her sleep.

I remembered last night.

After her seminar’s drinking party, Rui-san had come to my room for a nightcap, got drunk, and fallen asleep right there instead of going back to her own room.

I tried to wake her, but I couldn’t. Her sleeping face was just too peaceful. So I decided to leave her be. I figured she’d wake up eventually and let herself out. But this was the result. She never woke up once, and now it was morning.

From my bed, I gazed at Rui-san’s sleeping face.

The memory came flooding back.

About how she had kissed me last night.

I had been having a rambling conversation with her while she was in a state of intoxication.

What we talked about, I can’t remember now.

But I found my eyes drawn to the tongue piercing that peeked out whenever she spoke. Rui-san noticed my gaze. And she said:

‘Does my piercing bother you?’

Holding the highball can, she’d asked with a faint smile. My heart gave a loud thud.

‘You’ve been staring at it for a while now, Yuito-kun. Ever since I started coming to the convenience store to buy cigarettes. You tried your best to hide it, though.’

‘…You knew?’

‘Yes. From the very beginning. That’s why I made a point of showing it to you.’

It was true. I had been fascinated by her tongue piercing.

The glint of silver that would peek out when she said thank you after buying her cigarettes. I had sensed a dark emotion in it.

‘N-heh. Want a closer look?’

Rui-san let out a laugh, turned to me, and stuck out her tongue. In the middle of her light pink tongue was a silver piercing.

The sight of it made me gasp.

A silver glint amidst the moist red. It was terribly lewd. It made me feel like I was seeing something I shouldn’t.

But I couldn’t look away. As if I were bewitched. I was frozen.

As I remained motionless, Rui-san slowly drew closer. Our shoulders touched. Her pleasant scent, faintly mixed with tobacco, filled my nostrils. I could hear her damp breaths.

She was inside my personal space, but I couldn't move. As if my whole body was paralyzed.

By the time I realized it, she had stolen my lips.

It was like a spider consuming an insect trapped in its web.

Her tongue invaded my mouth. Our mucous membranes, our tongues, intertwined. It was hot. Slimy. It writhed as if it were a living creature.

Her usual demeanor was as calm as an exquisite doll. But her tongue possessed an abnormal heat. That overwhelming heat told me that she was alive.

We devoured each other. It was so intense I could barely breathe. I felt like I was drowning. Our heat mixed together, threatening to melt us.

Her tongue squirmed, thick and slimy like a slug. And there, I felt an inorganic sensation. The piercing. I touched her piercing with my tongue. It was inorganic. Like a flavorless piece of hard candy.

For a while, I lost myself, licking the flavorless candy. I couldn’t think about anything else. It was as if the core of my brain had gone numb.

How much time had passed? When my sense of time became completely numb, Rui-san seemed satisfied and pulled her lips away.

‘Did you like the piercing?’ she asked with a bewitching smile. Only then did I finally return to reality.

I could only manage a small nod. My mind was numb, and the words wouldn’t come. It was as if the language center of my brain had melted.

‘…Hee hee. I see.’

With a faint smile, Rui-san’s expression was far more mature than mine. She was beautiful.

And that was it.

Rui-san lay down on the floor and started breathing softly, as if her batteries had run out, and I didn’t yet know how to take things any further.

So, that’s where it ended.

I don’t know what Rui-san was thinking when she did it. She might not remember any of it when she wakes up tomorrow.

But I, at least, remember. There’s no way I could forget.

That heat, that texture, has been branded onto me.

Afterward, I went out onto the balcony and stood in the night breeze for a while. To cool down. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep otherwise.

After replaying last night’s memory, I started getting ready for school when I sensed a stirring behind me.

“Ngh… Good morning.”

Rui-san, now awake, stretched languidly and looked over at me.

“Sorry. I fell asleep. Ended up staying the night, didn’t I?”

“Should I make some coffee? It’s instant, though.”

“Thank you.”

I went to the kitchen and boiled some water. I put the instant powder into a cup and poured the hot water over it. Done.

“I’m out of sugar and milk, so it’s black.”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it.”

“Also, for what it’s worth, that cup has never been used.”

It was something I’d gotten from some promotional campaign.

“Thank you for your consideration. But I don’t mind things like that, you know?”

“I mind.”

Rui-san took the cup and slowly sipped her coffee.

She still wasn’t fully awake, her eyes hazy and sleepy. Her bedhead made her look somewhat childish.

But I remembered it vividly. Her bewitching expression as a predator last night.

“Last night was fun, wasn’t it?”

I was surprised when she brought it up.

“…You remember? I thought for sure you’d have forgotten.”

“I remember perfectly. Learning your name,  Clerk-san. Talking about my seminar. And kissing you like I was devouring you.”

Rui-san said it so innocently.

The memory of that night remained in her, too. It wasn’t just a dream I’d had.

But if that was the case, what did she mean by it? Was it just the alcohol? Or was there some other meaning behind it? I couldn’t ask her to her face. I didn’t know how to bring it up.

“Was that, by any chance, your first kiss?”

“…What if it was?”

“Nothing. It just makes me happy, that’s all.”

Rui-san propped her cheek on her hand at the table and gave me a sweet smile.

While I was in such inner turmoil, she was completely unfazed. Her expression was perfectly calm. Like a tranquil sea.

She was so composed. So mature. She felt so far away.

Unable to look her in the eye, I glanced away. The wall clock showed it was eight o’clock.

“…I should get going.”

I’d be late.

“I’m heading out first. Please lock the door when you leave. Here’s a spare key. You can give it back next time we meet. See you.”

I turned on my heel and started for the door. I was about to take a step. But then, the cuff of my uniform pants was pulled.

I turned around.

It was Rui-san, tugging on my pants cuff.

“Want to go out after this?”

“Huh?”

“I have the day off from university today. The class I was supposed to take got cancelled. I’m bored and have nothing to do.”

“But I have school like usual.”

“Then let’s just skip.”

“You say that so casually…” I faltered. “Besides, couldn’t you ask someone else? A friend or something?”

“No one else is free.”

“You could kill time by yourself, couldn’t you? Read a book, watch a movie.”

“I could. But I’m not in the mood for that today.”

Rui-san said that, then smiled up at me.

“Today, I’m in the mood to hang out with you, Yuito-kun.”

“Even if you say that…” My resolve wavered slightly. “If I skip school, I might fall behind in my classes.”

“One day will be fine.”

“If we’re hanging out outside in broad daylight, I might get picked up by the police.”

“If you’re not in your uniform, they’ll never know.”

“But…”

“Do you like school that much?” she asked. Not in an angry or sarcastic way, but as if she were genuinely curious.

It’s not that I liked it. And it certainly wasn’t fun.

It was depressing. Especially today. We had soccer in P.E.

I don’t hate physical activity itself. My athletic skills aren’t bad, either. But I was bad at group activities.

At the end of every class, we had a match where the students from the soccer club, split into two teams, would pick players through rock-paper-scissors.

Naturally, the popular kids in the class were picked first. To the soccer club kids, who were also popular, they were friends whose abilities and personalities they knew well. Inevitably, the outcasts were left for last. Having no friends, I was always the very last one left.

One by one, students were chosen and left the group. Witnessing that scene was a stark reminder that I wasn’t needed. That I was an invisible man. Waiting until the very end, to be chosen as if I were something untouchable. That time was pure agony.

“If you come with me, I guarantee you a day more fun than school,” Rui-san said, holding up a finger playfully.

I wavered again. Going to school, or going out with Rui-san. I put the two on a scale.

“Think about it. If a meteor was going to hit and destroy the Earth tomorrow, which option would you choose, Yuito-kun?”

“Well,” I said. “I definitely wouldn’t go to school.”

“There’s your answer,” Rui-san smiled. “Let’s live with no regrets.”

“But in reality, no meteor is coming, and the Earth isn’t going to be destroyed. If I keep choosing to live without regrets in the short term, I’ll end up with regrets in the long term.”

“Perhaps.”

She didn’t deny that part.

But as I said it, the scales were already tipping heavily. Towards going out with her. Yet I didn’t have the decisiveness to just make the choice. So I decided to leave it to fate.

I made a proposal.

“…Alright, let’s do this. We’ll play rock-paper-scissors. If I win, I go to school. If you win, I’ll hang out with you for the day.”

“Hee hee. I like it,” Rui-san agreed. She clasped her hands together and stretched. “But I’m pretty good, you know?”

Facing off against her, I wondered which outcome I was hoping for. If I won, would I really be happy?

Maybe I should have reversed it. If I won, I’d go out with Rui-san.

But then, no one would be rooting for me to go to school. What would be the point of the game?

With that thought, I threw my hand out at the same time as her.

As I walked, a group of students in uniform approached from the opposite direction. All of them were wearing my high school’s uniform.

The distance between us shrank, and we passed each other. They were heading towards the school. I was walking in the complete opposite direction. I was dressed not in a uniform, but in casual clothes. Beside me was Rui-san.

Rui-san had won the game of rock-paper-scissors.

I threw rock, and she threw paper. Rock, paper, scissors. After confirming her victory, Rui-san grinned triumphantly.

“See? I told you. I’m good at this.”

And so, I ended up spending the day with Rui-san.

Rui-san went back to her room, took a shower, and got changed. Then, I changed out of my uniform into casual clothes, and we headed out together.

“So? How does it feel to skip school for the first time in a while?”

“It hasn’t really sunk in yet. Technically, it doesn’t count as skipping until morning homeroom starts.”

“You can still turn back, you know?”

“It’d be a pain to change back into my uniform,” I said. “Besides, it’s a promise. I’m not going to back out now.”

Hearing that, Rui-san let out a soft laugh. “Let’s have the best day ever,” she said.

The school route, usually bustling, was completely devoid of people, probably because the morning commute time was long past.

A familiar road. Yet the atmosphere was somehow different.

After walking for a while, we arrived at a coffee shop. It was the same one we’d visited before. Today, there were other customers inside. Two of them. But it was quiet.

We ordered the morning special. Coffee with toast and a boiled egg. Rui-san ordered a set that came with hotcakes.

“I come to this shop a lot, but this is my first time having the morning special. I’ve never been able to wake up this early. It’s thanks to falling asleep in your room, Yuito-kun,” Rui-san said.

“I wouldn’t call eight-thirty this early.”

“For me, eight-thirty is the crack of dawn.”

Rui-san had said she wasn’t a morning person. In high school, she was late almost every day. She apparently didn’t take any morning classes at university either.

Come to think of it, this was the first time I’d met Rui-san in the morning. It was always at night with her. When she came to the convenience store to buy cigarettes. When we talked on our balconies.

“I’d never seen you out when the sun was up, so I was starting to think you were a vampire, Rui-san.”

“Well, a stake through the heart would certainly kill me.”

“That’s true for humans, too.”

We made small talk as we ate the breakfast that was brought to us.

I glanced at my phone. The time for morning homeroom to start had passed. The moment my truancy for the day was confirmed.

I imagined the scene. The morning homeroom without me.

All the other students are there, but my seat alone is empty.

They might notice for a second. Oh, he’s not here today. But that’s it. The thought is washed away by the next one in an instant.

No one would worry. Our relationships weren’t that deep.

Whether I skipped or not, the classroom would keep turning, unchanged. My absence would have no effect whatsoever. Thinking that, I felt no guilt.

“What should we do after this?” I asked.

“Want to go see a movie?”

“A movie?”

“There’s a movie theater in the shopping arcade a few stations away. It seems to only show smaller films that aren't playing in other theaters. I’ve been curious about it for a while, but I felt a little intimidated to go in by myself.”

“So you want me as your escort, is that it?”

“Want to check it out?”

“Sure.”

We decided to leave as soon as Rui-san finished her cigarette.

After finishing our breakfast and leaving the coffee shop, we took a train a few stops over. The car was empty, likely because we were outside of rush hour. We were getting further and further from school. And from home.

We got off at a station a few stops away.

The moment I stepped out of the ticket gate, an unfamiliar scene spread out before me. It was a distance I could walk if I really tried, but I’d never come here without a reason. And today, I had one.

The shopping arcade was right next to the station. We walked under its long, seemingly endless roof.

The movie theater was in a corner of the arcade.

A sign in front of the theater listed the films that were showing. I didn’t know any of them. I considered myself to have seen a normal amount of movies, yet these were all outside my field of vision.

“Have you decided which one you want to see?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. How about this one?” Rui-san pointed to what looked like a coming-of-age film. The title was Adolescence of a Monster. I’d never heard of it.

“Alright, let’s go with that.”

We went to the ticket counter to buy our tickets. A thousand yen for a high school student. It was cheap, but for a poor student like me, it was still quite a bit.

“I was the one who invited you, so I’ll pay.”

Rui-san tried to pay for my ticket, but I stopped her.

“I’ll pay for my own.”

“You don’t have to be so reserved.”

“No, it’s not that I’m being reserved,” I said, prefacing my explanation. “If you paid for me, Rui-san, and the movie turned out to be bad, I’d feel bad saying it was bad. I don’t think it’s right to complain about something you’re watching on someone else’s dime. So I’d rather just pay for myself from the start.”

“Hee hee. What’s with that principle?” Rui-san burst out laughing. “Yuito-kun, do people ever tell you that you’re way too serious?”

“…Never been told that,” I said. “I don’t have anyone close enough to me to say something that personal.”

“Oh, right. That’s true.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No, no. In that case, let’s each pay for our own.”

I paid my thousand yen, and Rui-san, a university student, paid her fifteen hundred. We took our tickets and walked through the hallway into the theater.

The theater was cozy. About sixty seats. Perhaps because it was the first showing of the day, there were no other customers. We had the place to ourselves.

“Yuito-kun, where do you usually sit in a movie theater?”

“I rarely go to the movies in the first place, but mostly in the front.”

“Doesn’t your neck hurt?”

“It does. But hardly anyone else sits in the front row, so I can watch without worrying about the people around me.”

“Do people around you bother you?”

“I don’t like to feel the presence of other people during a movie. I come here to escape from reality, but they drag me back to it, you know?”

“So you can’t stand people who look at their phones during the movie?”

“Can’t stand them.”

“What about people who try to leave during the end credits?”

“Can’t stand them either,” I said. “If I were rich, whenever I went to see a movie, I’d buy up the seats above, below, to the left, and to the right of me.”

“It’s very you, Yuito-kun, to not even consider the possibility of going with someone.”

“Do people around you not bother you, Rui-san?”

“It bothers me when people eat popcorn during the movie. I can still tolerate it during a comedy or a lighthearted daily life scene, but sometimes people eat even during serious moments. You hear them crunching away in a tense, silent scene.”

“That would be annoying.”

“Once, during a climactic scene, I heard crunching and just thought, Wow, they held onto that popcorn for nearly 120 minutes, and it made me laugh.”

Rui-san said that, then added, “But you can’t complain, right? It’s an act the theater condones. And they’re the ones contributing to the sales.”

“Where do you sit, Rui-san?”

“I sit in the back, in the middle. It’s the best view.”

“But aren’t there a lot of people there?”

“If you choose the first showing of the day or a late-night show, it’s empty. I also tend to avoid blockbusters that would be sold out anyway,” Rui-san said. “It’s a privilege of being a university student with a flexible schedule.”

I was honestly jealous.

“It’s open seating. Where should we sit?”

“Let’s see. How about we sit in the front?”

“Even though it’s empty? You usually sit in the back middle, right, Rui-san? You don’t mind not sitting there today?”

“I wanted to try seeing the view that you usually see, Yuito-kun.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Rui-san walked ahead and sat down in a seat in the middle of the front row.

A moment later, I sank into the seat next to her.

There was someone in the seat next to me. Usually, I would hate it, but today I didn’t. Come to think of it, this was the first time I’d ever come to see a movie with someone.

Eventually, the showtime arrived, and the theater darkened. A buzzer sounded. In that instant, my consciousness was transported from the real world to the world of the story.

An image appeared on the screen.

And for the next hundred minutes or so, I watched the movie.

As the poster had indicated, it was a coming-of-age film.

The protagonist was a high school student who could transform into anyone else. An outcast in his class, he would change into the boys and girls he disliked and play pranks on them.

One day, the protagonist falls for a girl. A girl from the class next door who was kind even to his plain, original self. But he didn’t know how to interact with her as himself.

So he decided to interact with her by transforming into the most popular boy in class. Borrowing someone else’s mouth, he was able to talk to her smoothly.

But then, things took a sharp turn.

The boy he was impersonating and the girl became close. All the interactions the protagonist had built up were completely stolen from him.

If he talked to her transformed as the popular boy, it would only raise that boy's standing with her. The protagonist tried to talk to her as his true self. But the words wouldn’t come out. He had lived so much of his life as someone else that he had built up nothing in his own life.

The protagonist tries to tear the two apart by transforming into the boy and committing evil deeds, plotting to make her disillusioned with him.

But in the end, he stops himself. He didn’t want to see her sad.

In that moment, the protagonist understood love for the first time.

He realized that the one who could make her happy was not him, but the other boy, and he steps aside.

And he decides to live his own life from now on, not someone else’s. At the same time, his power to transform into others disappears.

That was the story.

After the movie ended, we left the theater and went into a nearby coffee shop. We took a seat, and once our coffee arrived, Rui-san broke the silence.

“How was the movie?”

“Well, I couldn’t really stand the protagonist,” I said. “He was wishy-washy the whole time, and self-centered. And the screen was always so dark.”

And then I rattled on about all the parts of the movie that bothered me.

The characters, the directing, the plot development. I said everything I thought. I mentioned some good parts, but my critique was mostly negative.

“I see. So that’s how you saw it.”

“What about you, Rui-san?”

“I enjoyed it,” Rui-san said, smiling as she propped her cheek on her hand. “I found the clumsy, pitiful protagonist to be endearing and I liked him.”

The moment I heard those words, I snapped back to my senses. My face grew hot. Like when you realize your answer is wrong during a review.

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh?”

“I mean, for tearing apart a movie that you enjoyed.”

I was seized by an anxiety that I had somehow negated her entire sensibility. That I might have trampled on something important to her.

“Isn’t that what paying for our own tickets was for?”

“Still, maybe I should have tried to be more sympathetic.”

“Someone who only ever gives you 100% affirmation is boring, isn’t it?” Rui-san said that, then smiled softly. “I like hearing about the things other people like, but I also like hearing about the things they dislike just as much. A person’s values are strongly reflected in the things they dislike. Plus, it lets me see a perspective I don’t have. So, I found what you had to say very interesting, Yuito-kun.”

Rui-san looked straight at me and narrowed her eyes. She propped both elbows on the table, supporting her chin with her hands. She said, as if singing, “I’m glad I invited you to the movies, Yuito-kun.”

She didn’t seem offended at all. In fact, she seemed pleased, satisfied. I found myself relieved by that.

“Also, I was thinking while watching the movie,” Rui-san murmured. “The protagonist of that movie and you are quite similar, Yuito-kun.”

“We are?”

“Yes. The clumsy parts, the gloomy parts. And how you pretend to be sullen, but you’re actually kind and honest at heart.”

“Is that how you see me, Rui-san…?”

I felt a mix of emotions.

But it made sense. The reason I couldn’t stand the protagonist while watching the movie. Was it because he was like me?

I hate myself. If I could, I would escape from myself. That’s what I think.

But.

I suddenly remembered what Rui-san had said earlier. That she found the clumsy, pitiful protagonist to be endearing and that she liked him.

I remembered that.

And I tried to guess her intention.

Even while knowing I would never find the answer.

Since it was lunchtime, we decided to eat at the coffee shop.

I ordered Neapolitan spaghetti, and Rui-san ordered Mont Blanc toast. A generous amount of chestnut cream was spread over the toast.

Just looking at it was enough to give me heartburn.

After finishing her Mont Blanc toast, Rui-san took out a pack of cigarettes. This coffee shop allowed smoking. After asking for my permission, she lit one up.

“Are cigarettes really that good?”

I asked a stupid question that had suddenly popped into my head.

“Want to try one?”

“No, I’m still a minor.”

“How old are you now, Yuito-kun?”

“I turned seventeen last month.”

“Well, well. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you have a big celebration?”

“Not really. It just kind of passed by without me noticing,” I said. “And it’s not like anyone celebrated it for me.”

“People with birthdays around this time of year might have a harder time getting celebrated. The new school year has only just started.”

“When’s your birthday, Rui-san?”

“December. Even though my name is Hazuki.” (Hazuki contains the kanji for "August.")

“Would you have preferred August?”

“Hmm. I wonder. Being named Hazuki and born in August feels a little too deliberate. Doesn’t it seem like my parents planned the timing?”

“That seems like overthinking it. But a winter birthday suits you better than a summer one, Rui-san.”

“Because I look unhealthy?”

“You are unhealthy, aren’t you? Chain-smoking, drinking, eating Mont Blanc toast for lunch. There’s no way you’re healthy.”

“Hee hee. That hits a little too close to home.”

Rui-san said, not looking at all like it hit close to home.

“Well then, that’s three more years.”

“Huh?”

“Until you can smoke, Yuito-kun.”

Rui-san stubbed out her shortened cigarette in the ashtray, propped her cheek on her hand, and smiled faintly at me. Her expression was somewhat more mature than mine.

“When you turn twenty, let’s smoke together on the apartment balcony. I’ll teach you what cigarettes taste like.”

“That,” I said after a brief pause, “sounds like something to look forward to.”

“Right?”

“But are you planning to still be in that rundown apartment three years from now?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not that it is. I have no right to say anything.”

“Well, if there’s an earthquake, it might collapse.”

“There’s also the possibility that you’ll collapse before that.”

“Then I’ll have to take better care of my health, won’t I?”

Even as she said that, Rui-san nonchalantly lit another cigarette. She took a drag and exhaled it with a languid, thin smile.

Smoking is undeniably bad for your health. If one were to think about their health, they should quit immediately. But I didn’t want her to quit.

The decadent atmosphere when Rui-san smoked. Her long, white fingers. Her melancholic expression. I was captivated by it all.

Leaving the coffee shop, we walked around aimlessly for a while.

A stroll through an unfamiliar town with no destination. It was fine if we arrived somewhere, and fine if we didn’t. The time just passing by without purpose was pleasant.

Eventually, Rui-san stopped in front of a shop. It was a small, old bookstore.

In a wagon outside, old novels were being sold for ten yen a copy, and the shelves filling the cramped interior were packed tightly with used books.

We were both drawn into the bookstore without a word.

If there’s a bookstore wherever you go, you at least have to go inside. Just as that was true for me, perhaps Rui-san had the same habit.

I rummaged through the used books in the wagon that were being sold for a pittance, and then stepped inside the store.

The old man, the owner, who was sitting in the back, glanced over at us. But he quickly seemed to lose interest, put his reading glasses back on, and returned his gaze to the newspaper in his hands.

“I like used bookstores,” Rui-san said, holding a used book she had taken from a shelf.

“Because you can buy them cheaply?”

“That’s part of it. When I find a recently published book being sold as a used book for cheap, it feels like I’ve unearthed a treasure.”

Rui-san said this in a childish tone, then continued, “When you buy a used book, sometimes you find traces of the previous owner. They might have written notes in the pages, or highlighted their favorite sentences. When that happens, I think, ‘Ah, I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed this book,’ and it feels like I’ve found a small light.”

“Do you write in your books, Rui-san?”

“I sometimes use sticky notes, but I don’t write in them. But I do have the desire to write in a mystery novel and then sell it as a used book.”

“You mean like highlighting the killer’s name to spoil it?”

“No. I’d write that someone who isn’t the killer is the killer. Then the reader would proceed with the preconceived notion that this person is the culprit. When the truth is revealed, I think they’d be very surprised.”

As Rui-san described this with delight, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You have a twisted personality.”

“I get that a lot.”

She’s usually so mature, but sometimes she says things that are surprisingly playful. She’s a hard person to get a read on.

“But you wouldn’t be able to see the reader’s reaction that way, would you?”

“That’s true. Then I’d have to give it to a friend or an acquaintance.”

“I feel like your relationship might get complicated after they finish reading it.”

After that, we each browsed the store.

The store had the unique smell of old books. I didn’t dislike it.

I glanced away from the shelves for a moment and saw Rui-san at the register. She was buying something. Curious, I asked her about it after we left the store.

“This novel is my favorite work of all time.”

Rui-san held up the used book she had bought to her chest.

It was a work I didn’t know.

“I first read it when I was in middle school, and I’ve reread it many times since. I don’t usually reread books I’ve finished, but this is the only one I’ve reread so many times I can recite the text. I brought it with me when I moved to my current apartment.”

“It’s a very special book to you, then,” I said, then asked, “But if you already have it, why did you buy it again?”

“That’s a surprise for later.”

Rui-san put a finger to her lips and smiled, as if to build suspense.

I found out the answer after we returned to the apartment. As we were about to part ways in the second-floor hallway in front of our rooms, she called out to me.

She told me to wait a moment. After a few minutes of waiting in the hallway, Rui-san came out of her room and handed me a book.

“Here you go.”

It was the same novel she had shown me earlier.

But it wasn’t the one she had bought at the used bookstore.

I could tell it was the one Rui-san had originally owned.

“For me?”

“It’s a little late, but it’s a birthday present.”

Rui-san smiled sweetly.

“It’s not anything expensive, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“No, not at all. Thank you. I’m very happy.”

It wasn’t flattery. It was from the heart.

“By the way, I haven’t written anything in it, so don’t worry,” Rui-san said with a grin, likely referencing our earlier conversation.

Hearing those words, I argued back in my head.

That’s not true. I would have preferred it if there were notes and highlights.

Rui-san’s thoughts, her feelings. Her favorite sentences. Through her notes and highlights, I wanted to touch her ideas and sensibilities.

Even just a little.

I wanted to know more about Rui-san.

◆◆◆

The next morning. I went to school for the first time in a day.

Having skipped yesterday, I felt a little guilty walking into the classroom. It felt like there was a thick membrane between the doorway and the hallway.

But I was the only one who cared. The classroom was turning just as it always did. No one reprimanded me for skipping, nor did anyone seem worried. I was able to catch up on the missed classwork right away. Skipping once didn’t put me that far behind.

During lunch break, I bought a katsu sandwich from the school store and headed to the area behind the special-use building. A thin, narrow, unpopular spot overgrown with weeds.

As it turned out, someone was already there.

“Haaaah…”

Leaning against the school building wall, sitting with her butt slightly off the ground, Koharu-sensei was sighing.

“Oh, Enoki-kun. You came.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” I said, sitting down a short distance from Koharu-sensei. “That was a pretty big sigh.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a working adult. A sigh or two is bound to escape.”

It made me dread entering the workforce.

I didn’t plan on prying any further.

But Koharu-sensei kept glancing over at me, a pleading look in her eyes.

Her eyes were screaming, I want you to listen to me. It was so obvious that ten out of ten people would have picked up on it, even without the ability to read minds.

Reluctantly, I decided to ask.

“…Did another teacher dump some troublesome task on you again?”

“Oh, you’ll listen?”

“Well, if it’s just listening.”

“Actually, I’m in the middle of counseling one of the kids in my class.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m a little stuck. Basically, it’s about her love life.”

“Love life advice?”

“Yeah. She said there’s a boy she likes and she wants my advice on how to get closer to him. Since she came to me for help, I want to support her. So I’ve been giving her all sorts of advice.”

“That’s great, isn’t it?”

“The problem is, I have zero romantic experience.”

“Huh,” I grunted vaguely. I didn’t know how to react, so I uttered a word that was the same as saying nothing at all. “Is that so?”

“None. Absolutely none. Nada. Zilch.”

“I don’t think it matters.”

“It might not matter to you, Enoki-kun, but it matters to the person asking for advice. Advice from someone with no romantic experience is just armchair theorizing.”

“Does the student know?”

“Know what?”

“That you have no romantic experience, Koharu-sensei.”

“No,” Koharu-sensei said. “In fact, she thinks I’m very experienced.”

In the classroom, Koharu-sensei is a cheerful and popular teacher. Students probably assume she had a fulfilling school life. It would be natural for them to assume she has a normal amount of romantic experience, or even more.

“Then why don’t you just be honest with her?”

“No way. If the popular kids in class found out I’m twenty-three and have no romantic experience, they’d look down on me.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“They might surprisingly find it cute and innocent.”

“When a girl calls another girl ‘cute,’ it’s only to someone they’ve judged as being below them,” she said, spouting her heavily biased theory.

“A teacher is finished the moment their students start looking down on them. To run the class smoothly, it’s better for them to think I’m an experienced, popular person.”

She had said that before. It was something Koharu-sensei was convinced of.

“But pretending to be experienced and giving advice when I have no experience feels like I’m deceiving her, and I feel guilty about it.”

“So that’s the stress that was making you sigh,” I said. “And I mean, it’s not like you’re deceiving her. You are deceiving her. In reality.”

“Ugh… For the record, even though I feel guilty, the advice is useful. The last girl who came to me for advice ended up getting together with the guy she liked.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“But when she reported back to me, I felt a little annoyed. Like, Oh, this kid is already ahead of me. Then she starts asking me things like when is the right timing for a kiss. And I’m like, I’ve never even kissed anyone. We’re at a stage way before that.”

Koharu-sensei was getting surly. I wondered what her students would think if they saw her like this. As I was thinking that, her attention suddenly turned to me.

“Have you, Enoki-kun? Kissed anyone?”

“…Do I have to answer that?”

“Come on. I laid myself bare. You can tell me.”

“It feels more like you just started undressing on your own…”

“Oh, and just so you know, childhood doesn’t count. I mean since starting middle school.”

“…Hah.”

“So? Have you? You haven’t, right? Enoki-kun, you’re going to say no and put my mind at ease, right?”

She was trying to strong-arm a “no” out of me.

A stone was thrown into the well of my memory. An image surfaced in my mind. Of that night, when a drunk Rui-san had put her tongue in my mouth.

“Well, I guess…”

“Eh? What’s with that reaction? No way. You have?”

Koharu-sensei caught my subtle reaction.

“Whoa. You have. Wait, when? Who with? Where? At your part-time job?” she fired off a volley of questions.

“I’m not talking about that. Besides, I never said I have.”

As I tried to evade, she snapped, “Are you kidding me?! High schoolers these days are moving way too fast! Even with the unprecedented low birth rate, everyone’s still getting it on, huh?!”

She spat it out as if in a fit of desperation. She wasn't listening at all.

“Koharu-sensei, have you been drinking?”

“I have not. I’m sober. I have a rule not to drink before 3 PM, even on my days off.”

“You start drinking pretty early.”

I thought she should at least wait until the evening.

I couldn’t help but feel the immense stress of a teacher’s job.

“By the way, Enoki-kun, why were you absent yesterday?”

“…That’s a sudden change of topic.”

“I thought you might not want me to ask right away. I was waiting for the right moment.”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

“I see. Even so, you should at least call in to say you’ll be absent.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You live alone, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all the more reason. If you’re absent without notice, we worry about all sorts of things. Like maybe you’ve collapsed or something.”

“I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Mm. As long as you understand,” Koharu-sensei said, backing down. “What about your classes? Are you falling behind from your day off?”

“I’m fine. For now.”

“Well, you have good grades, Enoki-kun,” Koharu-sensei said, then her eyes fell on the paperback book peeking out of my pants pocket.

“By the way, what’s that book?”

“If you weren’t here, I was going to read it.”

“You were reading all through break time, too, weren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. But you’re very observant.”

“I’m your homeroom teacher,” Koharu-sensei said playfully. “It looks pretty worn, like it’s been well-read. Have you reread it many times?”

“It was a gift.”

“Hmm. Is it good?”

“Is it good… I wonder.”

“What’s with that vague reaction? Is it boring?”

“It’s not that, exactly,” I said. “It’s more like, I wasn’t really thinking about whether it was interesting or boring while I was reading it.”

“But it is important to you.”

“Huh?”

“Looking at your face while you were reading that book, I just got that feeling.”

Caught off guard, I couldn’t help but look at Koharu-sensei.

Koharu-sensei, who had been staring into space, turned her gaze to me. “Was I wrong?” she asked, propping her cheek on her knee as she waited for my answer.

She really is observant. Annoyingly so.

“…Well, I guess so.”

It felt like she had put into words something I hadn’t been able to articulate myself.

For me, this book wasn’t on a scale of interesting or boring. Even if it were boring, its value wouldn’t change.

This book, as Koharu-sensei said, is important.

Because it’s the book that Rui-san loves most, the one she has reread countless times.

I spent my free time reading the paperback Rui-san had given me.

During school breaks. During my break at my part-time job. In the time before I went to bed.

The story helped to pass the tedious, boring time.

The pages of the paperback faintly smelled of cigarettes.

Rui-san must have smoked while reading this book.

As I turned the smoke-cured pages, I imagined her.

In a coffee shop like a hidden sanctuary. On the table, an ashtray with a pack of cigarettes. And coffee. Rui-san’s long, white fingers quietly turn the pages. The sound echoes through the shop.

Five days after Rui-san gave me the book, on the balcony at night after my shift, I slipped into our usual conversation that I had finished reading it.

“That was quite fast.”

“I have nothing but time to spare.”

In reality, I had finished it much earlier.

I had already finished it the day after Rui-san gave it to me.

But I was hesitant to tell her I had read it so quickly. I thought it might seem like I was too eager. I thought it would be better to wait a few days.

It was an excess of self-consciousness.

“I’m happy. May I hear your thoughts?”

But Rui-san, oblivious to my overthinking, asked for my thoughts on the book with an innocent expression and a clear voice.

I told her my thoughts. I told her what I thought and felt while reading. How the net of my own sensibility had caught this story.

After I finished speaking, as if in a fever, I suddenly realized.

I had been trying to show off my own sensibility through my review. My desire to make her think well of me had leaked out.

The moment I realized that, I was overcome with a self-loathing so strong it made me nauseous.

I had tried to use the work for my own sake.

That should have been the most despicable act of all.

“I see. So that’s what you thought, Yuito-kun.”

Had Rui-san seen through my pettiness? And had she decided to turn a blind eye?

Part of me didn’t want her to see through it, but another part of me did.

“Hee hee. I’m glad I got to hear your thoughts.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“They say that having someone read a book you love and hearing their thoughts is more satisfying than sex,” Rui-san said jokingly.

The sudden use of the word “sex” startled me.

It was a word that didn’t come up much in normal conversation. But it didn’t feel like she was trying to sound mature. The word fit her.

If I were to say the same word, it wouldn’t sound nearly as natural.

“I can’t really compare, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Shall we try it?”

Huh? a word almost escaped my lips. It might have actually escaped.

“Let me read a book you like, Yuito-kun. Then I’ll read it and tell you my thoughts. It’s not fair if I’m the only one having a good time.”

“Oh,” I said, this time out loud. I was probably relieved. My reaction and expression must have been out of place with the flow of the conversation.

“Did I say something strange?”

“No.”

“Or did you, by any chance, think I meant the other thing?”

As if it had just occurred to her, Rui-san asked, so I said something evasive like, “Not really,” or “That’s not it.”

“But do you have any books that Rui-san hasn’t read?”

“How many books do you think there are in the world?”

That was true.

“Then I’ll give you one some other time.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

I needed time to think about which one to give her.

At a lull in the conversation, Rui-san took out her phone. She checked the screen. She might have gotten a message. In less than a minute, she closed it.

“Did you get a new phone?”

It was different from the one she had used before.

“I did. I dropped it and it became unusable. If it had just been a crack, I would have kept using it.”

“Didn’t you get the repair warranty service when you bought it?”

“I didn’t. They explained a lot of things, but it was too much of a hassle. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“The things the store staff recommend are usually unnecessary, aren’t they?”

“True.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I agreed with her on that point.

“But when you get a new phone, transferring everything is a pain, isn’t it?” I said.

“It is. It was such a hassle that I just left it, and my friend got mad at me. Said she couldn’t get in touch with me on Ruin.”

“The friend who came to the apartment before?”

“That’s the one.”

The person with golden hair and a handsome face. The one I had mistaken for her boyfriend. I still didn’t know the truth. It was a Schrödinger’s cat situation.

“She knows where I live, but if she didn’t, there are a lot of people whose relationships would just vanish if I failed to transfer my Ruin data.”

“Is that how it is?”

“Even with friends, you don’t know their address or phone number. After you graduate from school or quit a part-time job, there’s no way to get in touch.”

“And I don’t use social media either,” Rui-san added.

“Come to think of it, I just realized. We don’t know each other’s contact info, do we?”

“True. Though we do know each other’s addresses.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it? For people who talk this much and even go out together.”

Neither of us had brought it up before.

If we had something to talk about, we could just talk on the balcony at night. There might be times we couldn’t meet, but that was fine. We didn’t need to be connected all the time.

It was enough to connect only when we felt like it. We probably both thought that way. At least, I thought that’s what Rui-san was thinking.

“Since we’re on the topic, shall we exchange contacts?”

“Are you sure?”

“It’ll be more convenient when I want to ask you to hang out.”

Rui-san said that, then added, “Besides, if the apartment collapses or one of us suddenly moves, we won’t be able to contact each other.”

She was joking, but it wasn’t entirely a joke. You never know what might happen. Just like how I ended up in a relationship where I talk with Rui-san like this.

“You’re right. I can also send you my thoughts on the books I’ve read.”

I added that to hide my embarrassment. At least Rui-san also wanted to maintain our connection. I felt a sense of joy in that.

And the words themselves weren’t a lie.

When I try to express my thoughts face-to-face, I can’t quite get them out right. I’m not good with words, and before I can convey what I really want to say, other emotions well up and get in the way.

But with text, I could probably convey it well.

I went back to my room and picked up my phone from the table. I opened the Ruin app and tried to add her as a friend. But my hand stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, uh, don’t know how to add you.”

“Hee hee. You just press this here.”

She taught me how to do it. I had just demonstrated, with my own body, that I had few friends. I followed her instructions, feeling my face grow hot.

Finally, the registration was complete.

Rui-san’s name was added to my single-digit friends list. A friends list that, to be honest, only contained my parents and my coworkers.

Rui-san’s icon was the default icon.

A gray silhouette. Below it, it read Hazuki Rui.

Her background was also the default. Among the other icons with their self-portraits, pet pictures, and landscapes, it stood out with an eerie presence.

But I couldn’t talk. Because—

Rui-san burst out laughing when she saw my icon.

“We have matching icons.”

My icon was also the default.

A gray silhouette. Below it, it read Enoki Yuito.

And of course, the background was also the default.

“I had a feeling you would, Yuito-kun.”

Rui-san said happily. Because her prediction had come true. The image of me she had in her mind matched the real me.

Matching icons. But the reasons we ended up with them were surely different.

Rui-san was probably just nonchalant about it. She didn’t need to use an icon to promote herself. She wasn’t trapped by a desire for self-validation. She was free.

I, on the other hand, was so worried about what others would think that I couldn’t choose one. I hated the idea of others defining me through my icon. I was unfree.

“But now we can contact each other whenever.”

Rui-san held up her phone screen and smiled at me.

“I’ll ask you to hang out every day. Until you get sick of it, Yuito-kun.”

“Then I’ll have to learn how to block you.”

“Hee hee. You’re so cold.”

Of course, she was probably joking. She wouldn’t ask me to hang out every day. Both I and Rui-san were the type of people who needed our alone time.

But until now, getting a Ruin notification had only ever made my heart sink. Notifications from my parents and my part-time job were never anything good.

But from now on.

When a notification came, I might be able to check my phone with a sense of anticipation. I felt that way.

A message actually arrived three days after we exchanged contact information. But it wasn’t an invitation to hang out.

‘I have a manuscript I’d like you to read, Yuito-kun.’

A manuscript she wanted me to read.

I didn’t know what it was, but it was a request from Rui-san. I replied that I would.

That night. When I went out onto the balcony, Rui-san handed me a stack of papers. It was about fifty pages of a printed manuscript. The top right corner was held together with a paperclip.

“Is this the manuscript?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not a commercial novel, is it?”

“It’s something I wrote. I had an assignment to write a short story for my seminar. I wanted to hear your opinion, Yuito-kun, before I submit it.”

“Are you sure I’m the right person?”

“I trust your judgment, Yuito-kun. I’d love to hear your honest opinion. You can read it whenever you have time.”

“Alright. If that’s the case.”

I formally accepted the task.

“I’m expecting you to tear it to shreds,” Rui-san said with a joking smile.

Rui-san had said it was fine to read it by the day before the deadline, but I decided to read it the very next day.

She would need time to revise the manuscript based on my feedback, and more than anything, I wanted to read the novel Rui-san had written as soon as possible.

My room. I sat at my desk, facing the fifty-or-so-page manuscript. I had taken a bath before reading to put myself in the best possible condition.

It was a work Rui-san had written seriously. I wanted to approach it seriously as well.

I took a breath.

I began to read the first line. I dove into the sea of text. Before my eyes, a vivid world unfolded. It shone with a brilliance I had never seen before.

I continued to dive, so engrossed that I forgot to breathe.

By the time I realized it, I had reached the end. It had passed in an instant.

After I finished reading, I was in a daze. The thorn of the story’s afterglow was stuck in me and wouldn’t come out. I sincerely wished this story would never end. A moment later, something hot stirred deep in my chest.

Before I knew it, I was typing a message on Ruin.

The recipient was Rui-san. I told her I had finished reading and wanted to give her my thoughts now. I wanted to tell her directly, face-to-face, not through text.

A reply came back immediately.

When I went out onto the balcony, Rui-san was already there. She was smoking a cigarette, and when she saw me, she gave a little wave.

“That was quite fast.”

“I don’t have anything else to do.”

When I said that, Rui-san laughed. Then she asked, “So? What did you think?”

“It was amazing,” I said, looking straight at her. “It was truly amazing. It might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”

Before I started reading the manuscript, to be honest, I was a little scared.

What if the manuscript Rui-san wrote was boring? What if the first fascinating person I had ever met was actually ordinary? I was scared to find out.

But that fear was unfounded.

The plot of the story itself was simple.

But the descriptions were outstanding.

They were fresh, untainted by cliché, and beautiful.

She was describing the world not by borrowing someone else’s words, but with her own. I was moved that there was someone who could see the world in this way.

“Being told that to my face is a little embarrassing.”

Rui-san exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke and smiled shyly. Then, after tapping the ash into the ashtray in her hand, she began to speak quietly.

“Actually, I’ve already submitted that short story.”

“Huh?”

“The people in my seminar gave it harsh reviews. They said the descriptions were too eccentric, that I was neglecting the plot too much.”

She had shown me something she had already submitted. And something that had been harshly criticized.

Rui-san told me why.

“I was actually pretty confident that I had written it well. So, I wanted you to read it, Yuito-kun, and give me your honest opinion.”

Rui-san said that, then asked, “The people in my seminar criticized it. Even knowing that, did you still think it was interesting?”

“That’s just because they have no taste. This work you wrote, Rui-san, is amazing. No matter what anyone says. Absolutely. I guarantee it.”

I could say it with conviction.

Not because Rui-san had written it. But because, purely as a reader, I was captivated by it. It might have been the best thing I had ever read.

So, I could say it without any hesitation.

“I love this work you wrote, Rui-san.”

“……”

Rui-san had a blank expression on her face. With a cigarette between her fingers, her eyes were wide with something like surprise.

Seeing that, I snapped back to my senses.

“Ah, sorry. I got a little carried away.”

“No.”

Rui-san shook her head.

Then, she took a drag from her cigarette and smiled quietly.

“Hearing you say that, Yuito-kun, has given me confidence. I know you’re not the type to say things you don’t mean just to be polite.”

Someone who only gives you 100% affirmation is boring, Rui-san had said before.

And she understood that I wasn’t like that.

So, the opinion I had given held a certain value for Rui-san.

Of course, I had only stated my true, honest feelings. Even so, I was glad that I could be of some help to her.

◆◆◆

‘I’m free until my next class. Want to come visit the university?’

The message from Rui-san came on a weekday afternoon.

It was a time when I should have been in high school. But we were in the middle of our regular exams. The exams ended in the morning, so my afternoon was free.

And I didn't have work today either. I decided to take Rui-san up on her offer.

‘Okay. I’m on my way.’

‘Yay. I’ll be waiting.’

After replying to the message, I changed out of my uniform into casual clothes and left the apartment.

The university Rui-san attended was about a ten-minute walk from my apartment. Almost the same distance as my commute to high school.

I had passed by it many times before. But this was my first time going inside.

I mingled with the crowd of university students and walked towards the main gate.

There was a security guard standing in front of the gate. As I passed by, I felt a moment of tension. My back stiffened, worried that I would be stopped. My pace quickened as I imagined what would happen next.

But walking faster might make me look more suspicious. I tried to keep my usual pace. I walked past the security guard. I wasn’t stopped.

He went from being in front of me to behind me. I walked on, putting distance between us. I had to resist the urge to keep looking back to see if he was following me.

Once I turned a corner, I finally looked back. He wasn’t there. Only university students. In the end, I had managed to get in without any trouble.

The campus, which I was seeing for the first time, was breathtaking.

Magnificent buildings stood in a row, and the whole place was, for lack of a better word, bright and open.

There was a café. A terrace. Even a food truck.

It was like a theme park.

Amidst this brilliant space, the smoking area where we had arranged to meet was dim.

The smoking area was in a narrow, out-of-the-way spot between two buildings.

It was dim, with no sunlight reaching it. A small space partitioned off. It was as if it had been isolated to be hidden from public view.

On the faded benches, there were a few smokers scattered about. Some were students, others looked like staff or construction workers.

There was no conversation. Everyone was just smoking and silently fiddling with their phones. Their backs were hunched. Their eyes were lifeless. It was a space completely cut off from the bright street outside.

In the stagnant air of the smoking area, on the furthest of several benches, sat Rui-san.

While many people were using heated or electronic cigarettes, she held a paper cigarette to her lips, gazing vaguely into space.

She sat on the bench with her legs crossed, her cheek propped on her hand, alone and melancholic. Her eyes were cold enough to send a chill down one’s spine.

She gave off an unapproachable aura.

In fact, no one tried to talk to Rui-san. They only stole glances from a distance. A strong barrier seemed to surround her.

I, too, couldn’t bring myself to speak to her.

Because she was unapproachable. That was part of it. But that wasn’t all. I didn’t want to break the serene atmosphere before me by speaking.

“…Ah.”

She noticed me first. Her expression softened, and her face brightened. She waved at me.

“Hello. You came.”

“Well, I was free.”

“Were you standing there the whole time, until I noticed you?”

“Well, it was hard to approach you,” I said. “You were giving off a full-blown, keep-away vibe, Rui-san.”

“Was I?”

“It was like, I’ll cut down anyone who gets close.”

“Was I really that much of a samurai?”

“You didn’t realize?”

As I smiled wryly, I was suddenly reminded of Sake-bag.

My coworker at the convenience store, who goes to the same university as Rui-san.

He said he had approached Rui-san at the smoking area. He had some nerve. Or maybe he was just so insensitive he couldn’t see the barrier. I thought it was probably the latter.

“I was the one who called you here, Yuito-kun. I wouldn’t cut you down,” Rui-san said. The cold color in her eyes from before had vanished.

“Have you had lunch yet?”

“Not yet.”

Her message had come before I could.

“Me neither. Since you’re here, let’s go eat.”

“Sounds good.”

Rui-san stood up and threw her finished cigarette into the ashtray. In the water inside the ashtray, countless cigarette butts floated like corpses.

“Was that okay?”

“What?”

“Your cigarette still had a lot left.”

“It’s not right to keep you waiting any longer, Yuito-kun,” Rui-san said. “Besides, I’m hungry.”

We left the dim smoking area and went out onto the main street.

Rui-san took me to a café on campus.

The café, with its stylish English name, lived up to its name with a stylish interior. The color scheme was subdued, but it was a bright kind of subdued, and I couldn't quite relax.

“It’s surprisingly empty,” I said. I had expected it to be more crowded, but there were only a few people here and there.

“It’s past lunchtime now. It’s class time. It’s crazy during the lunch break. I wouldn’t go near it.”

It seemed to get incredibly crowded.

“By the way, you order over there.”

“This is a bit late to ask, but is this okay? I’m an outsider.”

“As long as you don’t announce it, it’s fine. Even a neighborhood grandpa comes here for tea sometimes.”

“That’s very generous.”

“You could also call it lax.”

I ordered a loco moco bowl, and Rui-san ordered French toast. We placed our food on our trays and moved to a table in the back.

“You got the loco moco bowl, Yuito-kun?”

“I’d never had it before. It’s not something they have at the high school cafeteria,” I said. “And the sound of ‘loco moco’ is just… nice.”

Hearing that, Rui-san let out a little laugh.

“Did I say something weird?”

“No. I just thought it was cute.”

With that, Rui-san cut her French toast with a knife and fork. The fluffy toast was slathered in honey. And whipped cream.

It looked unhealthy just by looking at it. It gave me heartburn just by looking at it. It was a food that seemed to condense the momentary, ephemeral pleasure of this very instant.

I took a bite of the loco moco bowl. On top of the white rice was a hamburger patty and a sunny-side-up egg, covered in a demi-glace sauce.

It tasted just as it looked. No more, no less. It was decent. But considering the affordable price, it was more than worth it.

“How were your exams?” Rui-san asked.

“I still have tomorrow, but so far, so-so.”

“So no failing grades, it seems?”

“As long as I didn’t forget to write my name.”

“That’s good. By the way, what’s your best subject, Yuito-kun?”

“Japanese,” I answered. “My worst are math and science.”

“A classic humanities type.”

“What about you, Rui-san?”

“I was good at Japanese, too. And English,” Rui-san said. “On the other hand, my worst were Japanese history and biology.”

“You’re bad at memorization-based subjects?”

“No. I was relatively good at them.”

“Then why?”

“Those two subjects often had their exams during first period.”

“Ah, so you couldn’t wake up.”

“Thanks to that, I ended up failing a few times.”

“Weren’t you in a panic when you woke up and saw the time?”

“If it had been close, I might have panicked. But it was already too late. I just took a shower and went to school at a leisurely pace.”

“You’ve got guts.”

I would have probably panicked. Panicked, and then agonized over what to do. Even though the conclusion that there was nothing I could do would have remained the same.

I probably wouldn’t have been able to give up as gracefully as Rui-san.

“What time is your next class?”

“From 3:40.”

“So you have about an hour left.”

“Let’s just chat until then.”

After finishing lunch, we spent the time talking idly.

Trivial, light conversation. Not meaningful, not productive. The same kind of stuff we talked about on the apartment balcony or in the coffee shop.

Only the place was different.

In the brightly sunlit café, glamorous students gathered. I felt that a person like me didn't quite fit into this scene.

I couldn’t relax myself, and I probably looked out of place to everyone else, too.

But Rui-san was different.

The dingy smoking area suited her, and she also fit in at the glamorous café. She didn’t lose herself in either place.

“Rui-san, are you okay on time?”

After talking for a while, I said to Rui-san. The hands on the clock on the wall behind her shoulder were pointing to around three-thirty.

“Shouldn’t you be going soon, or you’ll be late?”

“Oh, is it that time already?”

Rui-san turned on her phone and checked the time. I expected her to get up, but she didn’t.

She turned off the screen and placed her phone face down.

“No, your class…”

“I’m skipping today.”

“Huh?”

“Because talking to you is more fun than going to class, Yuito-kun,” Rui-san said, smiling as she rested her chin in her hands, her elbows on the table.

“If you’re going to spend the same amount of time, it’s better to have fun. Right?”

“But are you sure it’s okay? Your credits and all.”

“It’ll be fine. Probably,” Rui-san said nonchalantly. She was demonstrating her characteristic decisiveness to the fullest.

“So, will you keep me company a little longer?”

“…Well, I guess so.”

I had actually planned on going home to study for tomorrow’s exams.

But, whatever.

Rui-san was right.

If you’re going to spend the same amount of time anyway, it’s better to have fun.

My phone screen showed it was past four in the afternoon.

We left the café and were walking through the campus. Since the fifth-period classes had already started, the campus was quiet.

‘Since you’re here, shall I give you a tour of the university?’ Rui-san had suggested. It’ll be like a field trip, she’d said.

Led by Rui-san, we toured the university. The school store, the library, the smoking area, the café. The facilities were extensive. It really was a completely different world from high school.

“This is where the clubs and circles do their activities.”

Rui-san explained as we came to a building at the edge of the campus.

“Speaking of which, are you in anything, Rui-san? A club or a circle?”

“Are you curious?”

“Well, it would be a lie to say I’m not.”

“At first, I showed up at the film studies club for a little while.”

“Past tense? So you’re not participating now?”

“That’s right. It’s not like anything specific happened. It’s more like, I just didn’t have a reason to show up anymore. One day, I realized.”

“Realized? Realized what?”

“That the people who truly love movies aren’t here.”

The eyes of Rui-san as she said this were cool and detached.

Since they called themselves a film studies club, everyone there had probably seen a decent number of movies. If you asked ten of them, all ten would undoubtedly say they liked movies.

But that’s not how Rui-san saw it.

Was it the number of movies they had seen? Or their knowledge? I didn’t know. In any case, Rui-san’s visits became less frequent.

After we had toured all the facilities, we set foot in the literature department building. She opened the door to an empty classroom where no lecture was being held.

The empty classroom was dim and slightly chilly.

Rui-san pressed the switch by the door and turned on the lights.

“This is where the literature department lectures are held. It’s big, isn’t it?”

The open classroom had seats arranged in a bowl shape.

It felt just like a university lecture hall.

“So you usually have your classes in this room, Rui-san.”

“Not always here, but mostly. By the way, unlike high school, the seats are unassigned.”

“That’s nice.”

“Then here’s a question for you,” Rui-san said, putting her index finger to her lips. “Where do I usually sit?”

“The seats are unassigned, right?”

“Most students sit in roughly the same place every time. I’m one of them. The front, the middle, or the back. Where do you think?”

“…Second row from the back, maybe?”

“And your reasoning?”

“Someone who skips class wouldn’t sit in the front. But at the same time, they’d probably feel hesitant to sit in the very back row.”

“So, second row from the back.”

“It’s also easy to leave the classroom from there.”

“Hmm, hmm.”

“So, am I right?”

“Nope. You’re wrong. The correct answer is the front.”

“…That’s unexpected.”

I had thought the front was the one place she wouldn’t be. But then again, this was a university. You could take lectures you were interested in.

“Are the classes that interesting?”

“Not particularly,” Rui-san said. “But in the back, you can often hear people talking.”

“Talking?”

“It’s not that loud. You can’t hear it from a distance, and the professors don’t bother to say anything. But well, if you sit in the back, you can hear them whispering. You can’t help but know what they’re talking about. I weighed the boring lecture against the boring private conversations and decided to take my lectures in the front.”

“So there are people like that in this department, too,” I said. “Even after studying hard and getting into a good university. They’re still here.”

“I think they’re everywhere. Even if you get into Tokyo University. Even after you graduate and get a job at a great company. Intelligence has nothing to do with that sort of thing.”

Hearing that, I was reminded.

Of Sake-bag. Of all the similar people I had met so far.

After staying for a while, we turned off the lights and left the empty classroom.

I looked at the time on my phone. The lecture would be ending soon. We were walking to leave before the campus got crowded with people. That’s when it happened.

“Oh, if it isn’t Rui-san.”

A man called out to her without any reservation.

I didn’t recognize his clothes, but I recognized his face.

It was Sake-bag.

Right, I remembered. This was the campus with the economics department building. Taking a shortcut to the apartment had backfired.

“Fancy meeting you on campus. You’re always in the smoking area, I was starting to think you were the fairy of the smoking area.”

“Um…”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my name? That’s cold. It’s Sakurada. Sakurada. Forgetting a handsome guy of my caliber…”

Sake-bag laughed lightly, and then he finally noticed my presence. The moment he did, he looked like a deer in headlights.

“Wait, huh? What? Why is Enocchi with you?”

“We’re neighbors. In the same apartment building.”

Rui-san introduced me.

“Ah. Enocchi, you live alone, right?”

“…Yes, but.”

“Aha. I see. You found out Rui-san’s address and moved in next door, didn’t you? You know stalking is a crime, right?”

“I didn’t do that.”

“Idiot. It was a joke. Lighten up. If you get all serious, it makes me look like I bombed.”

Sake-bag said that, then came over to me and slapped my back. Then he turned to Rui-san and continued with a smile.

“Sorry about him, Rui-san. He’s a boring guy.”

“No.”

“This guy, he messes up all the time at work, and I always have to cover for him. The other day, he made this huge mistake—”

Sake-bag began to boastfully recount my failures at my part-time job. How incompetent I was. And how he had covered for me.

The latter was a lie, but the former was not. I wasn’t a competent worker. I often made mistakes and was met with exasperation from customers and coworkers.

That’s exactly why I hadn’t wanted Rui-san to know. I had wanted to hide my miserable self, at least from her.

Stop it.

Don’t say any more.

As Sake-bag continued to laugh and talk about me, I just stood there and listened. With every word, I felt like a piece of me was being chipped away.

I couldn’t look at Rui-san’s face.

“By the way, there’s an internship this summer. You’re a third-year, right, Rui-san? Have you decided where you’re going?”

Finally satisfied, Sake-bag changed the subject.

“No. Not yet.”

“Seriously? I’m only a second-year, but I’m going to an internship. The company name is—” The name of the company Sake-bag then mentioned was apparently a top company in its industry.

It’s not that I knew much about it. It’s because Sake-bag himself said so.

“An alumnus from my club is there, so he’s going to introduce me. I’ve got connections.”

From there, Sake-bag continued to talk animatedly.

He used various tricks and roundabout expressions, but in the end, what he wanted to say was always the same thing. How brilliant he was.

And in reality, Sake-bag was brilliant.

At our part-time job, he had the manager’s trust, and his internship was at a top company in the industry. He went out drinking every day, but he hadn’t failed any of his classes.

He would probably handle his job search just fine, too.

Not just his job search, but his life as well.

Sake-bag’s innate personality, his abilities, were well-suited for living in this world. He had the disposition to aim for the upper echelons of society.

At least, far more so than I did.

Now that the topic had changed, I was finally able to glance at Rui-san’s expression.

Rui-san’s eyes were the same as the ones I had seen in the smoking area. Inorganic, detached. On the surface, she was putting on a front, but I could tell.

Sake-bag didn’t notice. He just kept talking without noticing.

A thought occurred to me.

When I saw Rui-san’s cold, detached eyes in the smoking area, I had thought it was unusual. That she had a look I had never seen before. But maybe that wasn’t it.

Maybe her eyes were originally like this. Maybe Rui-san usually had detached eyes. Maybe she spent every day feeling bored.

“Um, can we go now?”

Eventually, as if her patience had run out, Rui-san cut in.

“Oops. Sorry for talking so long. Oh, right. There’s a party this weekend, would you like to come? The senior I was talking about will be there, so I can introduce you. I’m sure he’ll like you, Rui-san.”

“No. I’ll pass.”

Rui-san declined the invitation and turned her gaze to me.

“Yuito-kun. Shall we go home?”

Leaving Sake-bag behind, Rui-san started to walk away.

I followed her.

And then, it happened.

Rui-san was about to walk away, but then she stopped, as if she had remembered something.

She turned around.

“It’s Sakurada-san, wasn’t it?”

“Y-Yes!”

“You seem to have a misunderstanding, so let me set you straight.”

The Rui-san who turned around was smiling. A smile as soft as the night breeze, and as sharp and cold as a crescent moon.

With that expression, she said to Sake-bag, “Yuito-kun is an interesting person. At least, far more so than you.”

“Huh?”

“Well then, goodbye.”

Leaving the dumbfounded Sake-bag behind, Rui-san turned on her heel and walked away for good. Sake-bag did not follow us.

We passed through the gate and left the university grounds.

As we walked for a while, I tried to say something to change the atmosphere, but in the end, I couldn’t.

I felt like the moment I spoke, I wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore.

Being used as a stepping stone by Sake-bag in front of Rui-san. Being protected by Rui-san. All of it was unbearable.

Perhaps sensing my inner turmoil, Rui-san suddenly spoke after a long silence.

“Yuito-kun’s stories of failure were interesting.”

“…Honestly, I didn’t want you to know.”

“But you were fine when you were serving me, weren’t you?”

“You always just buy one pack of cigarettes, Rui-san.”

There was no way to mess that up.

“For my part, I was relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“To find out that you’re an outcast at school and at work, Yuito-kun.”

“It’s not like I’m choosing to be one.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I do try to fit in. I say hello, I reply when people talk to me. At first, I can manage. But as time goes on, my true colors start to show, I can’t do my job well at work, and before I know it, I’m isolated from the group.”

It had always been this way.

In elementary school, in middle school, and now in high school. And at my part-time job, too. It was fine at first, but before long, I became something to be handled with care.

Even if I try to mimic them, my cover is blown over time.

“Everyone in the world can skillfully blend their colors with those around them. Like a chameleon. I try to do the same, but I can’t. I’m the only one who’s always a different color. But it’s not a beautiful color. It’s probably a weird, unsettling color.”

That’s why I get found out. They find me out, and they keep their distance. They see that I’m not one of them. That I’m not the same species.

“Do you want to be the same color as everyone else, Yuito-kun?”

“I used to. But not anymore. I probably can’t, and even if I could, it would just be exhausting.”

“Hee hee. You’re honest.”

“…Do you think that’s a bad thing?”

“Who knows?”

“But,” Rui-san said.

“For my part, it helps that you have a weird, unsettling color. It makes you easy to find in the crowd.”

Related Posts