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“This is really good, Miss Sawaki.”
A bashful grin touched Rin Sawaki’s lips as her finger twirled a strand of hair from one of her pigtails. The tendrils of apprehension and self-doubt which had longed trapped her in their vice-grip gradually loosened around her being. She had taken a major step in her journey as a writer—sharing her work with someone else. Sure, that someone had been a classmate whom she—until recently—harbored a slight crush on, but the demands of progress cared little for semantics. Besides, Ken Takakura had proven himself a trustworthy source of critique. The suggestions he’d offered helped flesh out the scope of her prose and made her stories stronger for it.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to read them,” Rin said, voice trembling with gratitude. “Especially since Watanabe-sensei seems to have gone overboard with homework lately.”
Ken chuckled. “It’s no problem. Your prose is so good that I finish them in no time.”
Before, such compliments would have had Rin competing with tomatoes to see who could assume the darkest shade of red. She had always felt Ken Takakura was far more attractive than most in the school would admit. The soft brown of his eyes, the handsome slopes of his cheeks, and curve of his smile had melted her heart once upon a time. But whatever romantic inclinations she might’ve held for Ken had vanished. His eyes were turned to another, as were hers.
Rin’s step felt lighter at the thought. “I can’t wait for Unji to see them.”
Ken handed her draft back to her as they neared the school’s gate, prepared to navigate the growing sea of people eager to escape the grounds and enjoy a long weekend. Rin scanned the mass of students, bespectacled eyes narrowed. Towards the gate, crowds dispersed; friends off to hangout or couples ready to date. She picked out the tell-tale green of her boyfriend’s jacket and her heart fluttered.
Unji Zuma stood out among the gathering of students, his black hair freshly shaved, cheekbones sharp, and dark eyes pleasant. He might have cut the appearance of what some considered a delinquent, but Rin had been granted a peek beyond the surface. He was passionate, fierce, and attentive—all the things a person could want. On the weekends, he always made it a point to meet her once classes wrapped up and her duties as representative were fulfilled. She moved along the stream of the crowd to meet him when something made her stop.
Unji was not alone.
He was conversing with Momo Ayase, the gyaru of Class 2-B. She dressed in her typical fashion, a bright pink sweater over her school uniform and leg warmers. Oval teal earrings glimmered in the afternoon light. She leaned against the gate while she chatted with Unji, their conversation swallowed by distance and crowd noise.
Her appearance didn’t surprise Rin—she was most likely waiting for Ken—but an uneasy feeling prickled at the back of her head at the sight. Momo and Unji fit together so naturally that one might have mistaken them for a couple. Not like the plain, uninspired, Rin Sawaki.
She shook her head. Stop it.
Rin had done her best to chase away the self-deprecations and stress which had preyed on her psyche for years. She had friends now, was surrounded by people who understood and appreciated her. Brought peace to her childhood friend, Mai, and discovered the strength to move forward in life. Plus, wasn’t it natural to feel a little territorial when it came to her boyfriend? She’d been on the receiving end of Momo's wrath where Ken was concerned.
As if on cue, Ken Takakura was at her side again. He sported a mirror expression, a grimace born of doubt and jealousy. She couldn’t blame him. People in their school still refused to acknowledge the relationship between Ken and Momo. Members of their class—specifically that asshat Hase—were convinced Momo only dated Ken out of pity. Others, including some of their own teachers, insisted Ken must have blackmailed the gyaru somehow. Before they began officially dating, others misinterpreted their relationship—including Rin was ashamed to say, herself.
Self-doubt proved a vexing presence on its own, but when external whispers breathed new life into the feeling, the voice only grew louder.
Ken caught Rin’s sympathetic eye and a wordless agreement passed between them. They parted and snaked their way through the crowd. From her angle, Unji’s back was to her, which left him open to her sneak attack. Before she could let the doubt win, Rin rushed forward.
Unji grunted when Rin collided with his back and wrapped her arms around his torso. Outside of her view, he heard Momo gasp slightly and assumed Ken must have pounced as well. The class rep of 2-C inhaled her boyfriend scent.
She felt him twist around to see her. “Rin?”
Cheeks a deep red, she looked up at him shyly. “Hi.”
“Hi?” he greeted with a lopsided smile.
“Zuma,” Ken called. “Good to see you.”
Unji nodded. “You too, Takakura.”
Rin poked her head around her boyfriend to greet Momo Ayase. “How are you, Ayase?”
The gyaru smiled at her. “Great. I just got a call from my boss. My weekend’s all free! Isn’t that great Okarun?”
Ken—or Okarun as Momo insisted he be called—beamed at her. “That’s wonderful Miss Ayase. There’s a new restaurant I’ve been dying to take you to. I’ve saved up enough money for their best dishes.”
Momo entangled her arms with Ken’s. “What kind of food are we talking?”
The occult-specialist’s eyes twinkled. “King Crab.”
Ayase’s jaw dropped. Her eyes sparkled at the mere thought of crab and she hastily swiped at her mouth to make sure she wasn’t drooling. Rin studied Takakura’s triumphant expression and admired him. A few months ago, they had both been outcasts no one in their clear paid any mind to. Rin faired better thanks to her status as class representative, but Ken was treated like a pariah for his belief in the occult. Since Momo Ayase entered his life—even more so once they had become official—the young nerd had steadily grown in confidence and physique.
“Yo,” Zuma whistled. “That sounds like fun. Can Rin and I come with?”
Ken, Momo, and Rin all turned to Unji with raised eyebrows. He produced his wallet. “My dad had me working for our neighbors so I could save up some spending money. I’m sure I have more than enough to pay for me and Rin’s share.” He suddenly looked bashful. “That is.. if you don’t mind, Rin.”
Even if she had, how could she have said no to such a cute expression!? “Of course I don’t mind. I really like seafood.”
“Then it’s a double-date!” Momo declared. “Lead the way, Okarun. Our King Crab awaits!”
II
The chorus of gentle laughter rose from the table in the corner of the restaurant as the two couples exchanged stories. The noise drew the curiosity of several other patrons, but most relented when they saw it was a group of high school kids. A few whispered derogatory statements over their lack of manners. Just as many envied them their time to relax and enjoy life. Rin detailed her latest idea for a vampire light-novel, Zuma proudly announced his improved test scores, Momo boasted about her pay increase, and Ken revealed a new passion.
“Photography?” Zuma raised an eyebrow. “You’re into that now?”
Ken rubbed the back of his head. “I mean, I’ve always had an interest, considering my passions for aliens and cryptids. I would have needed to improve at some point to document my own evidence of their existence. The photography club had an opening and they're pretty understanding of my absences. The teacher in charge, Narukami-sensei, looked at my latest submissions and suggested I had a talent for it.” He adjusted his glasses, nervous. “She even said she would have an industry friend of hers look into sponsoring me for college.”
Momo’s smile seemed to glow. “That’s awesome, Okarun!”
Her praise made Ken’s cheeks burn red. “It’s nothing, Miss Ayase.”
“Bull! Be proud of yourself. Just like I’m proud of you!”
Ken met her warm reddish-brown eyes and his heart melted. He’d committed so many of her expressions to memory, yet her beauty never failed to catch him off guard. An immature part of him wished Rin and Zuma had gone somewhere else so he could enjoy Momo’s radiance by himself. But he quickly banished the thought. These two were his friends, their bond forged in the harshest flames. He wouldn’t trade them for the world. Then he noticed something and chuckled.
“Miss Ayase, you’ve got crab on your face.”
Momo tilted her head at him but snatched up a mirror from her bag and examined herself. Bits of crab dotted her mouth, a result of her practically inhaling the succulent seafood the moment her order arrived. Before she could do anything herself, Okarun picked a napkin and wiped her face with it. She should have swatted his hand away—she wasn’t some child—but the gentle expression, the naked and pure love clear in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. She glanced away from him. “T-thanks.”
Okarun opened his mouth to reply when another voice cut him off.
“Oh my,” a high-pitched voice screeched. “If it isn’t Momo Ayase!”
The recognition Momo felt after hearing that voice deflated whatever good mood she’d managed to cultivate at that point. Reluctantly, she turned to meet one of her senior co-workers from the café, Keiko Shirai, who loomed over their table with an expression equal part a smile and a sneer. Long black hair cascaded past the shoulders of her red blazer and framed her sharp, cat-like features. Dark eyes glittered with amusement.
Momo’s lip curled at the sight of her—the harlot had dedicated much of her time to making Momo’s hours at the café unpleasant. The bitch always had a snide comment about her outfits, her make-up, and her taste in movies. The gyaru had practically seen red when the skank had dared to bad mouth Mr. Ken and filmography. She’d done her best to keep her loved ones from learning about Keiko’s existence. The last thing she needed was for her grandmother to give her co-worker a concussion.
“Shirai-senpai,” Momo kept her voice neutral. “What an unexpected… pleasure to see you outside of work.”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Keiko chortled in her haughty little voice. “I was just passing through to meet some friends, but when I saw you and this little gathering, I just had to say hello. Now don’t be rude, dear, introduce me.”
Momo swallowed the string of curses she wanted to hurl at the older woman. “Okarun, Rin, Zuma. My co-worker, Shirai-san.”
The other three offered their greetings but Keiko continued as if they said nothing.
“Soooooo,” she rounded the table and touched Zuma’s shoulder. “This is the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about. I’ll hand it to you, Momo, he certainly looks like Ken Takakura.”
Zuma stared at Keiko like she’d grown a second head. Rin seemed to shrink in on herself. And Okarun winced beside her. Momo turned in his direction but he averted his gaze, face tight with apprehension. He’d been so confident, so happy, just minutes before and Keiko had ruined that. The skank had hurt someone she cared about, which made Momo Ayase discard any notions she held about pretending to be nice.
She seized Ken’s hand and slipped her fingers between his before she raised them up for all to see. “This is my boyfriend. Okarun.”
“’Okarun?’” Keiko repeated. “As in ‘Occult-kun?’ An odd little nickname, don’t you think?”
“Didn’t ask your opinion,” Momo snarled.
“Anyhow,” Keiko drawled on, turning back to Zuma. “If you’re not Momo’s boyfriend, does that mean you’re single? Cause I know some friends who would love—”
Rin’s voice, soft and uncertain, chimed in. “I-I’m his g-girlfriend.”
Keiko pretended as if she suddenly realized a fourth person was there. “Pardon?”
Rin felt Zuma’s hand touch hers beneath the table while he maintained a harsh glare at Keiko. The warmth of his hand endowed her with confidence. She sat straighter in her chair. “I’m Unji’s girlfriend.”
Keiko gave a dramatic gasp. “Oh dear! My apologies. I might have taken you for his younger sister or something. Honestly dear, you could stand to pretty yourself up little. I mean pigtails? I know you’re still in high school but I’d suggest something a tad more… mature.”
Rin’s lips trembled but she forced herself to meet this woman’s derisive stare.
“And since we’re being honest, I must say that I think you and—Okarun, was it?—pass for a more convincing couple. I know that sounds harsh but how long until Momo and Unji—it is Unji, correct?—start sneaking behind your backs?”
“You’re wrong.”
Okarun glared at Keiko, squeezing Momo’s hand for assurance. “Momo and Zuma would never do such a thing. They aren’t the type of people. Don’t talk like you them or Miss Sawaki for that matter.”
Keiko held her hands up in surrender. “Geez, I was just trying to offer some advice. But that’s how kids today are I suppose. So sensitive. I’ll be off then. See you at work, Momo.”
III
The rest of the dinner had carried on with an air of awkward tension lingering like a storm cloud. Momo had lost her appetite and whatever pleasant conversation the others tried to have fizzled out. The quartet agreed to end their double-date and go their separate ways with a promise of another attempt in the future. As they departed the restaurant, Momo caught the smug glare of Keiko and bit down every urge to charge over to that table and punt the bitch’s head clear of Kamigoe City.
The four students walked along the dimly lit streets of the city, each lost in their own train of thought. Zuma had wanted nothing more than to slap that condescending cow across the face, but knew he’d catch hell from his dad. Even if he explained to Bega the reasoning—and he was sure his adoptive father would’ve understood—Unji still would have broken a promise to hold back on fighting. He hated the idea of disappointing his dad. Rin’s eyes burned as she blinked away the tears as Keiko’s insults echoed against the walls of her mind. She could have been sitting naked as the day she was born and would have never experienced the level shame the older woman inspired in her. Ken hung his head slightly, angry at the ruined evening, at Miss Ayase’s rude co-worker, and at himself for the part of his mind that agreed with her.
Unji Zuma, by every metric that Miss Ayase had laid out to him, matched what she considered to be her perfect guy. An awkward yet approachable fellow with a hidden heart of gold, a determined sense of justice, and a passing resemblance to the late Ken Takakura. Okarun was certain that if he and Momo had never met, then Miss Ayase would have fallen head-over-heels for Unji. Worse yet, Ken had no doubt Zuma would treat her with all the love and attention she deserved. One only had to look at her soft and attentive he was with Rin to see.
The part of Ken’s mind where his self-doubt festered and burned whispered these harsh truths to him. Reminded him how little he matched Momo’s preferences, all the ways guys like Zuma or Jiji could better support her thanks to their abilities, how much he had to make up for without Turbo Granny’s powers.
She made a mistake, an ugly voice rasped in his mind. She chose you out of pity, not love.
They reached the train station that would escort Rin and Zuma to their part of town and said their farewells. He and Momo were left alone to walk the trek to her house. Seiko had taken a job in Tokyo while Vamola decided to accompany Mr. Shrimp and his son on some extraterrestrial errands. The journey ended all too soon for his liking.
“Talk to me, Okarun,” Momo pleaded. “I know what that skank said is bothering you.”
Ken swallowed. “It’s just… Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am to be your boyfriend. You’re so amazing and wonderful and smart and pretty. And I’m just—”
“Just what?” Momo challenged. “Just the sweetest, most considerate, loving, and badass guy I’ve ever met? Cause if that’s what you were going to say, then I fully agree. I get it, Okarun, what she said hurt you. It hurt me, too, that someone would accuse me of stepping out like some tramp. You’ve proven time and again how much I mean to you. And I hope I’ve done the same. And if words aren’t enough, then how about this?”
Momo wrapped her arms around Ken’s neck and pulled him close, offering a sultry look before pressing her mouth against his. Ken started at the contact but melted against her, arms snaking her waist. Her pink lips, soft and delicious, slotted perfectly against his own, and sent waves of joyful shock up and down his body. Her fingers threaded their way through his black hair, nails grazing his scalp just the way he liked. With a sigh, Okarun tightened his grip on her waist and deepened their kiss.
“It’s getting late, Miss Ayase,” he panted.
“So spend the night,” Momo grinned against his lips.
“But Miss Seiko—”
“Won’t be back until next week. Which gives me all weekend to make out with you on my bed.”
She punctuated her point by running her tongue along the curve of Ken’s upper lip. With a growl, he hoisted her up in his arms and carried her inside.
Across town, Rin and Zuma rode the train in silence, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. The world passed them by without paying much heed. Keiko Shirai’s words festered between them like an infection. It had not been the first time Rin had wondered if Zuma and Momo would have made a decent couple. Their respective aesthetics aligned far better than he did with Rin. A gyaru and a delinquent-who-was-not-really-a-delinquent certainly made more sense than Zuma dating a class-rep.
The first time Unji had asked her out was because he needed help raising his grades—or so he claimed. From there, she’d discovered his hobby of collecting monster movies and they’d held a friendly debate on which era’s films were the best. And that had soon evolved into movie dates and the sort of happiness she’d never allowed herself to indulge. Mai had teased her about it but was otherwise supportive. And Unji’s adoptive father, Officer Bega, had welcomed her with a kind smile.
“This is the happiest I’ve seen Unji in a long time,” he’d confided in her one night. “Thank you.”
Her mother took a liking to her boyfriend and their latest escapades fighting yokai and aliens only made things better. She’d found a place to belong among people whose only expectation of her was her purest self. Ken was their group’s central pillar, Momo the heart which drew them together, Aira the guiding wind urging them forward, Jiji the dependable hand keep them steady, Vamola the enduring warmth welcoming them home, Kinta the variable mind open to possibilities. Rin, Zuma, and Yukishiro had not yet carved their own place in the group, but she was certain their roles would become apparent soon enough.
Yet today, her newly minted foundations had been knocked off balance by a few harsh words. She hated how much sway Keiko’s insults held over her. Hated how small the woman made her feel. Hated how she had insulted Unji.
And yet you said nothing.
Rin eyes continued to burn as she and Zuma departed the train and ventured towards her family’s apartment. Along the way, she caught the curious stares of people. Some frowned at Unji’s open display of affection, others gossiped, and all the while Rin felt scrutinized. Her hair felt immature, her clothes too plain, and her place at his side questionable. A bitter part of her wondered if Momo Ayase would have felt the same thing in her place. She liked Momo and envied the confidence with which she carried herself. Felt sickened by how naturally that confidence would meld with Unji’s.
“Hey,” Unji nudged her shoulder. “We’re here.”
Rin glanced up at him, then noticed they were in front of her apartment building. She pulled out her key and he escorted her to family’s floor. She was about to inset the key when she spun around to face Unji. Before he could question her, she yanked his face to hers and smashed her lips to his. She closed her eyes tight and focused on the feeling of his lips rough but comforting. Through their kiss she attempted to convey all the turbulent emotions at war in her mind. To dispel any doubt which lingered within her being.
Her heart fluttered when she felt Unji relax against her and pull her close. He rested a solid hand on her back and tiled her head upward to deepen the kiss. Rin could not help the whimper which escaped her. A few minutes passed before they parted, both panting.
“What was that about?” Zuma asked, breathless.
Rin blushed but forced herself to hold his gaze. “I just wanted to remind you that I can be… mature.”
Unji’s eyes softened. “Rin. I don’t care what that bitch said. I don’t think about Ayase that way. I like you.”
Rin sniffled. “I know. I like you too Unji. It’s just that… I don’t know. I keep waiting for all this to wind up as some kind of dream.”
“If this is a dream, then I don’t ever want to wake up.” Unji pressed his forehead to hers. “Let’s go out tomorrow. Just me and you.”
Rin smiled through her tears. “I’d love that.”