(Book Publication Commemorative Short Story)
In the autumn of his second year of high school, Nishino realized the preciousness of youth.
The catalyst was a glimpse of the casual school caste system he witnessed while preparing for the cultural festival. He saw the absolute rules formed by teenage boys and girls, and how these determined the quality of student life some elevated, others diminished. Furthermore, within that system, he recognized his own predefined position.
His teenage years, and the years to come, were clearly a gray youth. What awaited him was a lonely old age and, eventually, a final moment filled with regret. Suddenly realizing this, he began to reflect raptly on his lifestyle.
His perspective naturally shifted, and consequently, his interests and concerns turned inward toward his immediate surroundings. Trivial events he'd never paid attention to before now seemed strangely fresh. The colors of ordinary, everyday scenes changed before his eyes. Such is the state of the Futsumen these days.
Thanks to this, there was also a significant change in how he spent his days off.
"......Let's go"
t was a Saturday, for instance, a weekend day with no particular work commitments.
Nishino left home in a hurry.
It was past nine in the morning. Normally, he'd still be wrapped in his futon, breathing softly in his sleep. But today, he was out and about, neatly dressed and, unusually, even wearing cologne. His eyebrows, however, remained untrimmed.
His steps from his apartment headed toward the nearest station.
After transferring trains several times, he arrived in the area of Omotesando.
The reason? To participate in an event.
It all started last night when he was gathering information online in search of ways to interact with the opposite sex and one of the articles caught his eye. It said that if you want to find a girlfriend, the best way is to participate in an event. Make friends with girls who have the same hobbies as you and enjoy romance and marriage to the fullest. That terribly clichéd slogan struck a chord with Futsumen.
"Is it here.......?"
The events he ended up choosing were things like “Learn English with Native Speakers in Omotesando” and the Aoyama English Conversation Club, held at an open-air terrace cafeteria.
The participation fee was 5,000 yen. One free drink included.
Judging by the location, the pitch, and the price point, these were events targeting ambitious women in their late twenties. It should have been obvious with a little thought. The website featured photos of handsome Western men and pretty Japanese women chatting happily.
But, being still in his mid-teens and a virgin with zero experience with the opposite sex, he had no way of knowing. He gleefully submitted his application via the website's contact form. He thought the slightly higher price compared to others wasn't bad, and so on.
Considering the stylish environment, his own strengths, and the authentic setting, this Futsumen concluded that the Aoyama English Conversation Club—where you learn English with natives in Omotesando—was the perfect event for him right now.
In his mind, he was already picturing himself chatting happily with the opposite sex. A cheerful open terrace in Aoyama, Omotesando. A completely rose-colored fantasy. He was seriously hoping he might even exchange contact information.
Thanks to this, his steps toward his destination quickened.
Before he knew it, he had arrived at the cafeteria serving as the event venue.
"This place's pretty good."
True to its advertising, Nishino murmured as he gazed at the venue located in Omotesando. As noted in the sign, a splendid open terrace was also visible. Satisfied with the establishment's appearance, he stepped inside with anticipation.
◇ ◆ ◇
That same day, Shimizu, was walking alone near Shibuya.
She had originally planned to window shop with a friend. Just a few minutes earlier, her phone buzzed with a last-minute cancellation. Something about her younger brother suddenly coming down with a fever and needing her to take care of him.
Immediately after receiving the message, feeling deflated, she considered heading home herself. However, Inchou had already made her way to the meeting spot. Even if she turned back now, it would take a fair amount of time. It felt like a terrible waste of a holiday.
So, reluctantly, she decided to explore the city alone. Her plan for the day was to browse shops in the morning, grab something to eat, and head home early. Being Inchou, she was somehow used to working alone anyway.
"Ah... That dress is cute."
I stroll along the busy street at a leisurely pace.
Naturally, couples are visible all around. Given the location, most are young pairs. Holding hands, arm in arm, everyone seems to be walking down the street in perfect harmony. To avoid seeing such scenes, I keep my gaze fixed on the displays decorating the streets as I wander.
"......Wow, 80,000 yen is too expensive."
Through the glass window, she gazes at the neatly displayed women's clothing and murmurs to herself.
Today was a perfect day for a walk—the weather was fine, the temperature pleasantly warm. As the Inchou who enjoyed physical activity, her mood gradually lifted as she walked. Occasionally browsing alone wasn't so bad. She began to feel a little more positive.
It was then that it happened.
A sudden sight that burst into her field of vision halted her steps.
"Eh......"
A cafeteria set up along the street.
On its open terrace, she spotted a classmate.
It was a person who had been the subject of endless campus gossip lately.
Nishino Gokyou.
Moreover, seated at the table with several other people, gathered around the same table exchanging words.
What surprised the class president was the appearance of those gathered there. Three women who seemed to be in their late twenties, a good bit older than Nishino, and one Caucasian man in his mid-twenties. It was a completely incomprehensible combination.
"Wh-what are you doing..."
The distance from Inchou to the open-air terrace table was just a few meters.
Listening closely, I could pick up the sound of the other person's voice.
"All of them are chatting in English."
[Where did the instructor come from?]
[Oh, I was wondering that too.]
[You look so cool, like you're from England or France.]
[Oh, I see what you mean. ]
[He looks really sharp in a suit.]
Three women in their thirties approach a handsome Caucasian man one after another.
Naturally, the one who responds is the person who was addressed.
[I was born in England, but for various reasons, I grew up in a small country called Malta. It's a tiny island in the Mediterranean, smaller than Tokyo, Japan. Geographically, it's considered part of Southern Europe. It's also the origin of the word “Maltese.”]
[The Mediterranean sounds so cool!]
[Wow! That sounds incredibly stylish!][It feels very high-class. Are you rich, by any chance?]
[I'd love to visit Malta, even just once.]
[It's a nice place, but it's tough to live there. For someone from Japan, especially the plumbing would be a struggle. Malta has a serious water shortage, and since I was little, my mom nagged me constantly to take shorter showers.]
The center of the conversation is a handsome white man.
He seems to be in a position of authority, perhaps acting as a host overseeing the table for those seated around it. Surrounding him, women in their late twenties chatter animatedly.
Amidst this, the socially clueless Futsumen keeps chiming in here and there—a pattern repeated throughout the conversation at our table. Right now, upon hearing a familiar country name, his mouth opened once more.
[I remember getting an upset stomach from the water when I first visited Malta too. That made my work during my stay quite difficult. Living in Japan, it's easy to forget how precious water is. You'd never expect tap water to taste salty.]
As usual, an overwhelmingly condescending attitude.
As a result, criticism is being voiced around Nishino regarding his remarks.
[Hey, you're a student, right? Like I said before, the ladies were are talking here.][If you keep telling lies when you're young, you won't grow up to be a decent adult.]
The women in their late twenties were the ones who spoke up.
This was the third time.
It was a perfectly natural criticism.
Moreover, because of this the Futsumen's unnecessarily fluent speech, they'd been dragged into his conversation and weren't able to talk to the handsome instructor as they'd hoped. Honestly, they couldn't understand why they'd paid so much money to attend this event.
They had come to talk with the handsome native white male instructor. That was why they'd paid the 5,000 yen participation fee. It certainly wasn't to be shown up by a bratty kid like Nishino, who was acting cocky in their own field of expertise, English.
[Ah, no, I'm sorry. It was just a topic that piqued my interest.]
[N-no, that's fine. You're a customer too, after all...]
The handsome man exchanging words with him gave a wry smile.
It seemed he understood that Nishino had no ill will.
[You seem to be fluent in English, but shouldn't we have separate classes?]
[You're right. Unlike students, we have jobs to attend to, so we can't just study English all the time.][What about that receptionist lady? How about her?]
All the words being exchanged were in English.
Unfortunately, Inchou could only understand fragments.
"............"
All the words being exchanged were in English.
Unfortunately, Inchou could only understand fragments.
However, from where she stood, she could observe the shifting expressions on everyone's faces. Thanks to that, the atmosphere at the scene also reached Inchou to some extent. Even if she couldn't understand the words being exchanged, Shimizu could judge what kind of gathering it was based on the composition of the people present and their behavior. It was in Omotesando, at a stylish cafe, with well-dressed women in their thirties, one Caucasian man, and conversations in English. And then, there was the classmate who had wandered in, completely oblivious to the situation.
"Just how desperate are you to get a woman?"
Three women moving to keep their distance from Nishino, and a white man struggling to handle the situation. The former are customers, and the latter is likely a host the establishment arranged to welcome them, Inchou instantly guesses. Probably that sort of event.
And the white host, floundering because of Nishino's presence.
Being in a similar position in class, she naturally senses something.
".........."
Thanks to that, she felt embarrassed as if it were her own fault.
She couldn't bear the thought of him catching on. Turning on her heel, she began walking briskly back the way she came, trying to put distance between herself and the open terrace. But that, in itself, was frustrating for the Inchou. Why on earth did I have to turn back the way I came just for someone like Nishino-kun?
".........."
Inchou then slowly took a phone out of their bag.
With a click, they snapped a photo of the table where Nishino sat.
"To run into him even on my day off? That's just the worst."
Later, Nishino would be given a new title on campus, Lover of Mature Women.
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