Act Two: Exchanging Numbers for the Second Time in Life
The First Day of School After the Entrance Ceremony
It was the first day of school after the entrance ceremony.
As I got up early, my mom looked at me with a surprised expression.
“Oh my, it’s rare to see Kohei wake up before Sana! What’s gotten into you?”
“I decided to start waking up early now that I’m in high school.”
“Or maybe you promised to walk to school with Koikawa-chan?”
“No way! That’s definitely not it!”
The truth is, I woke up early precisely to avoid her.
Back in middle school, both Yuzuhana and I barely made it to school on time every day. Later, I heard she was constantly running late because she was stuck doing all the cooking, laundry, and cleaning in the morning. By the time she finished, she was always on the verge of being late.
So, if I made it to school early, I could avoid bumping into her at the shoe lockers. Sure, I’d rather sleep for another 30 minutes, but the thought of seeing her face first thing in the morning? No, thanks.
She probably doesn’t want to see my face in the morning, either. Honestly, I’m such a considerate ex-husband. She should be grateful. Not that I’d want her gratitude—it’d creep me out so much I’d probably throw up.
After scarfing down breakfast and getting ready, I walked along the mostly empty route to school and entered the campus.
The first student to arrive is responsible for unlocking the classroom. Naturally, I assumed I’d be first, so I stopped by the faculty room, but the key for Class 1-A was already gone.
Someone else got here even earlier? That’s impressive. I was genuinely impressed as I walked into the classroom, only to find—
“…Oh, no.”
“…Huh?”
The “first student” turned out to be Yuzuhana.
As soon as I placed my bag on my desk, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her, the sharp sound of her clicking her tongue echoed through the otherwise empty classroom.
"Why are you up early? You’re always barely on time, if not late."
"I wasn’t late; I was almost late. What about you? Did you slack off on house chores today?"
"I used to struggle, but thanks to a certain someone dumping all the chores on me, I got used to it."
"I helped out with chores too! Don’t act like you didn’t shove garbage duty onto me!"
"That’s because you’re the one who said, ‘Leave the heavy lifting to me!’ Don’t get cocky over just taking out the trash!"
"I should be proud! I was helping you, wasn’t I? You even thanked me with a kiss every time!"
"S-shut up! I only kissed you because you’d sulk if I didn’t give you a reward!"
"I wasn’t sulking! Even without the kisses, I always did a perfect job cleaning! Unlike you! You were so sloppy—remember how much hair got stuck on the adhesive roller tape?"
"That was all your hair falling out!"
"Even if I concede that it was all mine, the hair loss was probably from stress—caused by you!"
"If I’m such a source of stress, stop interacting with me!"
"You’re the one who started talking to me!"
"It’s your fault for not being late today!"
"Then why don’t you be late?"
"If I’m late, people will think I’m a delinquent! They already avoid me because I look scary…"
Suddenly, Yuzuhana’s energy plummeted.
It’s true people tend to avoid her, but it’s not because she looks scary. It’s because she’s so stunningly beautiful that she seems unapproachable. If she toned down her flashy appearance a little, she might actually come across as more friendly.
"If you hate how you look now so much, why don’t you just go back to being a plain girl like before?"
"No way. If I suddenly change my style, it’ll look like I botched my high school debut. That’d be so embarrassing."
"Embarrassing? You already failed the flashy delinquent look last time, didn’t you? Maybe you should learn from that."
"I did learn! That’s why I came early today. I figured if I looked like a model student, people might actually talk to me…"
I couldn’t help but think her approach was way too roundabout, but I sort of understood where she was coming from.
Unlike back then, both of us are much older than our classmates now. It’s awkward to initiate conversations with people more than a decade younger, and there’s no way I can keep up with high school social dynamics.
On top of that, Yuzuhana grew up in the countryside. She’s only ever been around elderly people, so she’s naturally shy around anyone younger or closer to her age. That’s why making reservations or talking to store staff always fell to me.
At the time, I felt proud that she relied on me. Now, I just see it as her offloading all the hassle onto me.
"If you want friends so badly, just gather some courage and talk to someone."
"I can’t. I get so nervous that my speech comes out all broken. If a former delinquent suddenly starts talking in broken sentences, they’d just be terrified of me. Even you were freaked out the first time I spoke to you."
"I wasn’t freaked out. I just wasn’t used to talking to girls, so I got a little flustered."
"Because you were totally unpopular."
"Fine, I’ll admit I was unpopular last time, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be the same this time around! I’ve learned how to dress stylishly, you know!"
“What are you acting all smug for? Who do you think taught you about fashion? If it weren’t for me, you’d still be dressing like you did in middle school even as a working adult!”
“You don’t even know what I looked like in middle school.”
“Oh, I know. Your mom showed me pictures.”
“I told her not to show them to anyone…!”
“Where did you even get those fingerless gloves?”
“S-shut up! It doesn’t matter where!”
“W-what’s with you? No need to yell!”
“You’re the one who’s humiliating me!”
“You were grinning at my middle school photos, too, weren’t you?!”
“That’s because I thought they were cute, not because I was making fun of you!”
“T-then you should’ve said that back then!”
“If I complimented your old outfits, you’d sulk! Like when I said I liked black-haired anime characters, and you were all, ‘So that’s the type you like?’ and got all pouty!”
“T-that’s not my fault! I liked you back then, okay?! Not anymore, though! Go ahead and like black-haired or glasses-wearing characters if you want!”
“It’s too late! Thanks to you, I now only like characters with dyed hair and bad attitudes! Also, just now, you said, ‘Go ahead and like black-haired or glasses-wearing characters,’ didn’t you?”
“I did, so what?”
“Why are you limiting it to 2D?!”
“Because I don’t think you’re capable of dating anyone in real life!”
“It’s not about whether I can or can’t—dating just isn’t my thing! …Well, I might get along with Hagakure-san.”
Yuzuhana’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
“Hagakure-san? The quiet one?”
“Yeah. Back in our first year, I worked with her on the library committee. She’s a closet otaku, so I think we’d get along.”
Yuzuhana made a displeased face. It’s not like it has anything to do with her who I get along with, so why does she look so irritated?
Could it be… she’s jealous?
…No way. She’s completely over me.
“You’re going after a high school girl? That’s a crime, you know.”
So that’s what this is about.
Even if she hates me now, I guess she’d still feel bad if her ex-husband committed a crime.
“We’re the same age right now, so it’s not a problem!”
“On the inside, you’re still an old man!”
“Well, if that’s the case, then you’re just an old woman cosplaying as a high school girl!”
“Don’t say that! I’m already self-conscious about it! I know full well that I don’t look good in a school uniform… you don’t have to rub it in!”
“I didn’t say you don’t look good! If you’re embarrassed, why don’t you adjust your skirt length? What if someone sees your underwear?”
“W-what does it matter to you who sees my underwear?! Or are you saying you want to keep all the memories of my underwear to yourself?”
“I-it’s not like I’m possessive or anything! It’s just weird if my ex-wife starts acting like an exhibitionist! Got it? Starting tomorrow, you’re wearing a long skirt!”
“With this look, wearing a long skirt would make me look like a delinquent. You should do something about that uniform of yours instead. Both the top and bottom are baggy! Why’d you buy something so oversized?”
“Shut up! I thought I was still gonna grow!”
“Too bad. You’re never reaching 170 cm.”
“Just watch! I’ll drink milk every day and finally break past 169 cm!”
“Good luck with that. Oh, and quit the library committee. I want to join it this time.”
“Why? Stick to the same committee as before!”
“I don’t want to be on the athletics committee again. Nobody else volunteered, so I got stuck being a cheerleader for the sports festival. It was so embarrassing to yell like that…”
The sports festival happens right after summer break. For someone as shy as Yuzuhana, being a cheerleader must’ve been pure torture. She probably spent her entire summer vacation dreading it.
“I was actually planning to join the library committee last time! I just lost at rock-paper-scissors. But this time, I’ll win! I still vividly remember losing with scissors!”
“Don’t aim to win! If you don’t want to deal with me, pick a different committee!”
“If you don’t want to deal with me, then—”
At that moment, a classmate entered the room, and we both fell silent.
It was Hagakure-san, with her signature braided hair and black-rimmed glasses.
It seemed like our argument had carried into the hallway because when Hagakure-san entered the now-quiet classroom, she looked around with a face that said, “Huh? Was that a hallucination?” She sat down at her desk, glancing nervously at the walls and ceiling like she was thinking, “Am I the only one who hears ghostly voices?” before trying to calm herself with a book.
After that, Yuzuhana and I didn’t exchange another word until homeroom started. The first period was for deciding committee assignments.
It seemed Yuzuhana had no intention of backing down, as she nominated herself for the library committee. Winning a rock-paper-scissors match against Hagakure-san, it was decided that Yuzuhana and I would serve as library committee members.
I couldn’t believe she actually volunteered to join the library committee with me. Sure, it’s the perfect role for a book lover, but working alongside her ex-husband? That’s got to be uncomfortable.
Or maybe she just wanted to stop me and Hagakure-san from getting too close. I did mention we could get along, but I never really intended to pursue that.
Besides, Hagakure-san is an otaku—a fujoshi, to be precise. Unlike Yuzuhana, who somehow matched with me perfectly, there was no way our conversations would flow as effortlessly.
(T/N: Fujoshi likes boys love...)
Fifth period, later that day.
All first-year students were gathered in the gymnasium for the club introductions.
In my previous life, I spent my days in the go-home club, indulging in video games. But last time I played alone, I barely enjoyed it. …I begrudgingly admit I had fun playing games with Yuzuhana. If she were to beg me, “Please, Lord Kōhei! Let me game with you!” I might just consider granting her wish. But imagining her bowing her head to me feels impossible.
So, this time, I decided to give club activities a try.
“We will now begin the upperclassmen’s club introductions.”
The presentations began with the sports clubs: track and field, basketball, volleyball, tennis, baseball, table tennis, kendo, soccer, judo, and badminton. Then came the cultural clubs: calligraphy, art, brass band, theater, guitar, and the computer club.
By the time the introductions ended, I had narrowed down my options.
“With that, the club introductions are concluded. There are also hobby clubs not introduced here, so if you’re interested, please check the bulletin board on the first floor,” the student council president announced.
After the closing remarks, we all returned to the classroom.
While my classmates chatted—“Wanna check out the tennis club later?” “Let’s swing by the badminton club after that!” “The brass band was amazing, right?” “Should we go take a look?”—I waited for Mr. Sawashiro. Once homeroom ended, I quickly made a stop at the restroom before heading to the art room on the third floor.
Truth be told, I dabbled in illustration back in college.
I had practiced by studying the art of my favorite manga artists, so my style might be a bit unconventional compared to the typical high school art club member. Even so, I was confident that my work would stand out among freshmen.
With any luck, I’d get a warm reception as “the promising newcomer!”
Caught up in daydreams of being praised by upperclassmen I hadn’t met yet, I bounded up the stairs—
“...No way.”
Right before the art room, I froze in shock.
There, standing at the door with her hand on the handle, was Yuzuhana.
What the hell is she doing here? Wasn’t she supposed to be in the go-home club?
I almost shouted at her but held my tongue. After all, I’d already decided not to get involved with her.
But as if sensing my silent indignation, Yuzuhana glanced back at me.
She smirked, lifting the corner of her mouth with an air of triumph.
(Oh? Too slow, weren’t you?)
(What’s your game, Yuzuhana?!)
(Isn’t it obvious? I’m joining the art club.)
(You should let me have it!)
(If you want me to step aside, try showing some proper humility.)
(Like hell I’m groveling to you!)
(Then just stand there and watch as I walk into the art room. Behold, my glorious entrance—!)
Our mental sparring flared silently, neither of us backing down.
Yuzuhana’s words might just be my imagination, but they’re probably spot on. Her expression says it all.
And so, all I could do was silently watch as Yuzuhana stepped into the art room.
Damn it! First the library committee, now the art club—she’s completely sabotaging my plans!
The upperclassmen, unaware of our history, would surely welcome me into the club. But I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing my high school days with Yuzuhana. If she was going to pick the art club, I had no choice but to find another place for myself.
“Still…”
The computer club sounded intriguing, but it didn’t seem like they focused on gaming. It was probably more about learning practical skills for the future.
Which meant my only hope lay with the hobby clubs.
The difference between a club and a hobby club, as I recalled, was the number of members. Once a hobby club reached the required number, it could officially become a club, which meant funding and more resources. That also meant hobby clubs would be eager to welcome new members.
I descended to the first floor and headed toward the bulletin board.
Scanning the recruitment flyers plastered across it—
“Ah.”
One caught my eye.
The Manga Hobby Research Club.
Perfect for someone like me who loves manga and has a passion for illustration.
The representative was someone named Akabane Chizuru, a third-year student from Class 1.
The flyer featured a character illustration—apparently a personification of our school—with a style eerily similar to mine. It was incredibly well-drawn, almost professional-grade.
Spending my afternoons with a senior whose artistic taste mirrored mine? It sounded like an absolute win.
I checked the flyer for the club’s location and headed back up to the third floor.
The Manga Research Hobby Club’s room was three doors down from the art room.
When I arrived, the door was locked, so I waited outside for a while.
Before long, a girl with long black hair and glasses approached.
“Oh? Who might you be?”
"I'm Kurose from Class 1-A. Are you Akabane-senpai?"
"That’s me, Akabane. So, Kurose-kun… Are you here to join the club?"
"Yes! I’d like to join!"
"Ah, wonderful, wonderful. Come on in, then!"
With a firm push on my back, I was ushered into the room.
The clubroom had shelves filled with manga and reference materials, along with a desk scattered with sketchbooks and what seemed to be photo references.
"Wow, that’s a lot of manga. Are these all yours, senpai?"
"Half of them are mine, and the rest belong to past members. If there’s anything that catches your eye, feel free to come by after school or even on weekends to read."
"Wait… Are there other members?"
"They’ve all graduated," Akabane-senpai replied with a small chuckle.
Apparently, the club was founded by a senior who graduated two years ago. Back then, there were four members, and for a brief time, they even managed to upgrade the hobby club to an official club.
"Not that it makes much difference. The main difference between a club and a hobby club is whether we get funding or not. The activities stay the same."
"So, what kind of activities do you do?"
"Our main activity is sketching," she explained. "One of our founding members believed that mastering observational drawing while still in school would be invaluable. We also publish a club magazine for the school’s cultural festival every year."
"Wait, does that mean we get to draw manga?"
"Exactly. Of course, completing a full manga right away might be a tall order. You can start with something simpler, like four-panel comics or even just illustrations. The most important thing is to have fun while creating—our club’s motto, if you will."
"That’s amazing! It sounds fantastic!"
Imagining myself spending my afternoons sketching and drawing manga with this mature and approachable senior—it was everything I could ask for in a high school club.
It felt like the perfect embodiment of a youthful, creative high school experience.
"I've made my decision! I'm joining the Manga Research Club—"
Yuzuhana showed up.
She saw me and grimaced as if she'd just bitten into something incredibly sour.
"Ugh. Why are you here?"
"That's my line. Weren't you joining the art club?"
"I couldn’t settle in. All the members were guys, and they were way too welcoming. They even started arguing over who’d buy me a drink. I felt like I was about to cause a full-blown club meltdown. So, I’ll graciously hand the art club over to you."
"Don't just decide that on your own! I've already decided I like the manga club."
"Well, I think I’ll like it too."
"You don’t even know what kind of activities they do here yet!"
"If it’s something you like, I’ll probably like it too!"
"So, does that mean you both want to join?" asked Akabane-senpai.
"No, I'm the only one joining!" I declared.
"No, I'm the one joining!" Yuzuhana shot back.
"I’m way more suited for this club! I’ve even published a doujinshi before!" I said, puffing up.
"Wow, that’s impressive for someone your age. A real promising newcomer has arrived!" Akabane-senpai commented.
That was exactly what I wanted to hear!
Now I wanted to join even more.
"Hold on a second! Don’t take all the credit! I helped with that doujinshi too, you know. We pulled all-nighters for days!" Yuzuhana protested.
"I thanked you properly, didn’t I? I even took you on a hot spring trip! A 15,000-yen-per-night inn, three nights in a row!"
"You were enjoying yourself too! And I had to pay for my share!"
"You’re the one who insisted! Besides, I treated you to lunch, didn’t I? That 2,500-yen meal!"
"I can’t believe you remember all those little details. You’re such a petty guy!"
"I remember because it was fun! You enjoyed the hot springs too, didn’t you?"
"I couldn’t help it! It had been ages since we went on a trip together… Wait, what are you doing?"
"Setting up a voice recorder. Lovers’ quarrels make for excellent creative inspiration," Akabane-senpai said nonchalantly.
"We’re not having a lovers’ quarrel!" we shouted in unison.
"But you’re dating, right?"
"We are not dating!" we barked again, perfectly synchronized.
"Your timing is impeccable," she remarked with a chuckle.
Senpai smiled warmly and said, "Anyway, I’d be delighted if both of you joined."
"Not happening unless she gives up on joining first!" I snapped.
"Same here! I won’t join unless he promises to stay out!" Yuzuhana shot back.
We turned our backs on each other, simultaneously heading for the exit.
"Wait a moment," Akabane-senpai called, stopping us. She pulled a booklet from a shelf.
"This is last year’s cultural festival publication. Even if you don’t join, you’re welcome to drop by anytime if you’re interested."
She was such a genuinely kind senior.
It made me curse the fact that Yuzuhana and I shared such similar tastes even more. Back when we first met, she had zero interest in manga, anime, or games. But before I knew it, she’d become as much of an otaku as me.
For a loner like me, having an otaku friend to hang out with had been an absolute joy.
Things went off the rails when I started having romantic feelings for her. If I hadn’t fallen for Yuzuhana, we never would’ve gotten married. We wouldn’t have ended up on such bad terms. Instead, we could’ve stayed best friends, sharing those fun, carefree days together.
A cute otaku girl became my girlfriend, and then my wife. Back then, I genuinely believed, "I’m the happiest man in the world!" Now, I feel like punching that version of myself square in the face.
If only we hadn’t gotten married.
If only we hadn’t dated.
If only I hadn’t fallen in love.
We could’ve still been enjoying those fun, carefree days together.
But it’s too late for regrets.
Now, we’re neither husband and wife, nor lovers, and there isn’t even a trace of romantic feeling left between us. But because we can’t stand each other, we can’t even be friends. There’s no chance we’ll ever get back to those happy days again—not in this lifetime, or the next.
After stuffing the club’s publication into my bag, Yuzuhana and I left the room, practically racing to be the first out the door.
It was Saturday, just past noon.
After finishing lunch, I left the house.
My destination was an internet café in the shopping district. Lately, I’d only used it as a place to crash after work, but this time, I was planning to fully enjoy its manga, anime, and free drinks to the fullest.
With that in mind, I headed to the station under the warm spring sun when—
“...Why the hell are you here?”
“That’s my line.”
I ran into Yuzuhana on the train platform.
She was dressed in a one-piece dress and a cardigan. The outfit was cute, but the way she glared at me with her sharp, piercing eyes was anything but. It felt like she was ready to pounce on me at any moment.
“Are you stalking me or something?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Are you reading my mind and trying to get ahead of me?”
“I don’t have any superpowers, thank you. But I can tell exactly what you’re thinking. Right now, you’re probably thinking, ‘That outfit doesn’t suit her.’”
“Well, at least now I’m sure you can’t read minds.”
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m spot on, aren’t you?”
“Wrong.”
“Then, what do you think about this outfit?”
“It’s cute. The outfit is.”
“Being complimented by someone as fashion-blind as you doesn’t make me happy.”
“Then what the hell is the right answer?”
“Leaving the station would be the right answer.”
“Unfortunately for you, I have no intention of leaving.”
“Then switch train cars.”
“I don’t owe you that courtesy.”
As sparks flew between us, Yuzuhana suddenly remembered something and spoke up.
“Come to think of it, I used to give you chocolates every Valentine’s Day. You should repay that debt right here, right now.”
“I already paid it back on White Day, so we’re even.”
“Excuse me? Mine were handmade chocolates filled with love, you know?”
“And I spent a ton of time picking out the perfect gift in return. Speaking of which, you owe me for that time you insisted on going out in the middle of the night, and I took you on a late-night drive.”
“I repaid you for that with a massage, so we’re even. By the way, remember how you used to sigh and say, ‘A girl in a white dress and a straw hat only exists in anime...’?”
“And what about it?”
“I went to that sunflower field dressed just like that for you, so that cancels it out.”
“That’s negated by the sunflower necklace I gave you because you looked like you wanted it. And let’s not forget your latte art obsession back then.”
“Oh, right, the stuff that was trending on social media. I even bought a photo book.”
“Well, I took you to a café that served latte art, and I practiced making latte art myself so you could have it anytime you wanted. Two moves. Your turn.”
“Fine, my turn. You randomly said, ‘I kind of want to know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a kabe-don,’ so I did one for you. That cancels it out.”
“Lame. Weak move.”
“But you were thrilled! You even said, ‘It’s surprisingly heart-pounding.’”
“That’s beside the point. Also, you’re supposed to give two examples.”
“Why two?”
“Because I gave two. Taking you to the café and practicing latte art—see? Two. Fair is fair.”
“Just lump them together as one!”
“Nope. Two examples, or I win.”
“Ugh, you’re so petty! Fine, whatever. I’ve got plenty of memories to work with anyway.”
We kept firing memories at each other like bullets.
Before a winner could be decided, the train arrived, and we both scrambled to get on board.
There was a single open two-seater, and we raced to claim it.
I managed to grab the window seat first, but Yuzuhana plopped herself down right next to me.
“Why are you sitting here?” I asked.
“There’s nowhere else to sit.”
“There are a few open seats here and there.”
“Sitting next to strangers makes me nervous, okay?”
But sitting next to your ex-husband? Sure, no nerves there—though I guess it’s not exactly relaxing either.
“It’s cramped. Move over a bit”
“...Selfish.”
“Did you just call me selfish?”
“Nope. And stop talking. You’re disturbing the other passengers.”
For someone as self-conscious about public image as Yuzuhana, a single “You’re disturbing others” line worked like a charm. She went quiet but still clearly wanted to vent her frustrations.
“Then lend me your phone,” she muttered under her breath.
“What for?”
“Just do it.”
“...Fine. Don’t break it.”
I handed her my flip phone, and she fiddled with the buttons before handing it back.
Then, on her own phone, she typed something.
[You totally called me selfish, didn’t you?]
An email came from an unfamiliar address. I didn’t need to check to know it was from Yuzuhana.
Not being able to talk on the train, she decided to interrogate me via email instead. Just like how she remembers every little thing from the past, she really knows how to hold a grudge.
Struggling with the outdated flip phone interface, I typed out a reply.
[Please stop sending spam. I’ll report you.]
She smacked my thigh with a light thwack.
[No violence!]
[You definitely called me selfish, didn’t you?]
Persistent as ever…
To change the subject, I sent her a goofy photo of Sana pulling a funny face.
Yuzuhana let out a quiet snort of laughter.
And then—another thwack.
[Don’t make me laugh. People around us will think I’m weird.]
[If it bothers you, why not make me laugh instead?]
[Fine, turn around.]
I turned to look out the window, and a faint click of a camera shutter followed.
An email arrived with an attached photo. When I opened it, it was a picture of Yuzuhana’s face.
[Why are you making a kissing face?]
[It’s a pout! Did I look like this when we kissed?!]
[Only I would know.]
[Tell me honestly! I won’t get mad!]
[Not saying. That’s always what you say before you get mad.]
[I said I wouldn’t get mad!]
[See? You’re already mad.]
[I’m not mad!]
[Still mad.]
She shot me a death glare just as the train pulled into our destination.
Just as I was about to stand, Yuzuhana stood up too. It wasn’t surprising—if you’re heading out on a weekend, it’s either to the shopping mall or the marketplace, and this station serves as the nearest stop to both.
Without a word, we exited the station together. My stride was naturally longer, but Yuzuhana matched my pace by walking quickly as if in competition.
“Stop following me,” she said.
“You’re the one following me. And why are you even talking to me?” I shot back.
“Talking outside doesn’t bother anyone.”
“We agreed not to get involved with each other.”
“You’re the one who started getting involved.”
Still bickering, we kept walking without stopping, eventually arriving at the marketplace.
We stopped almost simultaneously.
“You’re heading to the net café too?!”
“You’re going to the net café?!”
Realizing we shared the same destination, we raced inside as if it were a contest. This place is small, and it’s not unusual for all the seats to be taken on a weekend. There was no way I was letting her snag the last spot and wound my pride.
Reaching the counter at the same time, the staff greeted us warmly.
“Welcome! A table for two?”
“No, for one!” we said in unison.
The clerk hesitated for a moment before continuing apologetically. “I’m terribly sorry, but we’re quite busy today. There’s only one seat available at the moment.”
“You should give it to me,” I said.
“You’re the one who should give it up! You already own a ton of manga.”
“I was in the mood to spend the whole day at a net café today.”
“I’ve been thinking about the manga I wanted to read here since this morning!”
"Why don’t you wear glasses regularly? Your eyesight’s bad anyway,” I said as I settled into the seat, holding a gag manga.
Yuzuhana adjusted her glasses slightly, glaring at me. “What’s with the unsolicited advice? I don’t like wearing them unless I have to.”
“It’s not advice; it’s common sense. You’ll ruin your eyes even more squinting like that all the time.”
“I don’t need you worrying about my eyes, thanks. And I only wear them when I need to read. Besides,” she added, pouting slightly, “I think glasses don’t suit me.”
I scoffed lightly. “Glasses suit you just fine.”
“...What?”
“I said, they suit you. There, happy now?”
Her lips twitched, like she was trying not to smile but also didn’t know how to respond. “Whatever. You’re probably just saying that to shut me up.”
“Think what you want.” I turned to my manga, opening it to the first page.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Yuzuhana fiddling with the edge of her glasses, clearly a little pleased but trying to play it off.
“Don’t just sit there gawking,” I said, flipping a page. “Weren’t you the one rushing to read something this morning? Get to it.”
“Mind your own business,” she muttered, grabbing a nearby romance manga and starting to read.
For a while, the only sound between us was the occasional rustling of pages. Despite being in such close quarters, it wasn’t as suffocating as I’d feared.
In fact, it almost felt… normal. Like the days when we used to hang out without any tension hanging over us.
But that thought didn’t linger long. This was only temporary—an accidental overlap of plans.
Still, as I glanced at her completely absorbed in her book, glasses slipping down her nose, I couldn’t help but think… maybe this wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
"I don't want to. It’s embarrassing to suddenly start wearing glasses now."
"You're overthinking it. Nobody’s paying that much attention."
"It’s more about how it feels... Are you sure it doesn’t look weird?"
"You’re persistent. I already said it suits you."
"You didn’t actually say it suits me, though…"
Yuzuhana lowered her face, cutting off the conversation on her own, and started reading.
Sitting beside her, I also began diving into my manga.
At first, I was distracted by Yuzuhana, but soon enough, I got absorbed in the story—
"…Pfft."
"…What’s so funny?"
"Nothing, just laughed."
"Right."
Her response was curt, but… curious about what I was reading, she kept sneaking glances at my manga. It was distracting.
"…Do you want to know?"
"Of course I do. What are you reading?"
"This."
I showed her the page that made me burst out laughing. Yuzuhana glanced at it and let out a small chuckle.
"Ah, that one. Hasn’t it been adapted into an anime yet?"
"It will be—five years from now. Guess the times finally caught up with it. Props to whoever greenlit the project; they’ve got a great eye for talent."
"Totally. I heard it was almost canceled early on, but it’s actually really good, isn’t it?"
"Yeah. For a while, I thought my sense of humor was broken because it wasn’t popular. Seeing you laugh so hard at it back then made me feel better."
"I thought I was going to laugh my guts out back then."
"You even started laughing out of nowhere while you were asleep."
"And it was a real struggle trying not to laugh during lectures."
"You even asked me to pinch your arm so you wouldn’t laugh. That was unreasonable."
"It wasn’t unreasonable."
"It totally was. Like I could actually pinch you."
"It’s fine. It wouldn’t hurt even if you did."
"Then there’s no point in pinching you."
"That’s not the point. Just leave the manga when you’re done. I want to read it too."
"Sure, sure."
It saved me the trouble of returning the manga, so I didn’t mind lending it to her. Still, I felt oddly reluctant for the manga talk to end.
Talking about manga after so long really was fun.
Although picking my ex-wife as a conversation partner wasn’t exactly ideal… Well, we were stuck together until the evening anyway. Better to enjoy a relaxed atmosphere than sit in awkward silence and miss out on fully enjoying the net café.
"…So, what are you reading?"
Maybe she wanted to keep the manga talk going too, because she showed me the cover without any sign of irritation.
"This one."
"Ah, you’ve always liked that author."
"Especially their third series. That cliffhanger where the protagonist got sent back in time—waiting to read the continuation is killing me."
"And the results of the popularity poll are a big deal too."
"Right? They were supposed to be announced next month, but now we have to wait another year or two. Well, it’s obvious Antony’s going to take first place, though."
"What? No way, it’s gotta be Ange!"
"This is a shonen manga, you know? Of course the protagonist is going to take first place."
"Even so, the heroine could still win. Ange is seriously adorable."
"Ange is the cutest, no doubt, but she’ll split votes with Chloe and probably end up around fourth place."
"Ah, yeah, good point. But remember that big Ange-focused chapter right before the voting deadline? After that performance, anyone would want to vote for her."
"True, that was an absolute masterpiece of a chapter."
As the manga talk heated up, maybe it started to get to Yuzuhana, because she grabbed the remote control.
"It’s hot. I’m turning on the AC."
"It’s not hot."
"It is hot."
"It’s not. If you’re hot, just take off your cardigan."
"Pervert."
"I’m not."
"Whatever, I’m turning it on."
"Fine, just focus on your reading."
She switched on the AC and went back to her book.
The cool air wrapped around me, and I couldn’t help but shiver a little.
"…You’re such a cold-weather wimp."
"You’re just a hot-weather freak. Can I turn this off now?"
"No way. If my hands get sweaty, they’ll smudge the manga pages."
So the manga mattered more to her than I did. Not like I wasn’t expecting that.
We hadn’t had any major fights today, likely because being surrounded by our favorite manga was soothing her temper. That didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t stand me. There’s no way someone like her would go out of their way to be considerate of—
"Fine, I’ll lend you my cardigan," Yuzuhana said with a sigh.
"...Huh? Your cardigan?"
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A rare act of consideration from her?
"It’s hard to concentrate on my reading when you’re sitting there shivering next to me."
"Then why didn’t you just take it off before you turned on the AC?"
"Ugh, stop nitpicking. I’m being nice here, so just take it, will you? Not like you have to wear it, but don’t come whining to me if you catch a cold."
"Fine. But don’t complain later that my smell rubbed off on it. And for the record, I’m not paying for your dry-cleaning bill."
"Do I look that petty to you? Unlike a certain someone, I’ve got a generous spirit."
The whole reason I was cold in the first place was because she cranked up the AC. And as for her so-called generous spirit, I had a few choice words I could say about that. But there was no point in stirring up more drama—I’d only make things worse for myself.
Fifth period, later that day.
All first-year students were gathered in the gymnasium for the club introductions.
In my previous life, I spent my days in the go-home club, indulging in video games. But last time I played alone, I barely enjoyed it. …I begrudgingly admit I had fun playing games with Yuzuhana. If she were to beg me, “Please, Lord Kōhei! Let me game with you!” I might just consider granting her wish. But imagining her bowing her head to me feels impossible.
So, this time, I decided to give club activities a try.
“We will now begin the upperclassmen’s club introductions.”
The presentations began with the sports clubs: track and field, basketball, volleyball, tennis, baseball, table tennis, kendo, soccer, judo, and badminton. Then came the cultural clubs: calligraphy, art, brass band, theater, guitar, and the computer club.
By the time the introductions ended, I had narrowed down my options.
“With that, the club introductions are concluded. There are also hobby clubs not introduced here, so if you’re interested, please check the bulletin board on the first floor,” the student council president announced.
After the closing remarks, we all returned to the classroom.
While my classmates chatted—“Wanna check out the tennis club later?” “Let’s swing by the badminton club after that!” “The brass band was amazing, right?” “Should we go take a look?”—I waited for Mr. Sawashiro. Once homeroom ended, I quickly made a stop at the restroom before heading to the art room on the third floor.
Truth be told, I dabbled in illustration back in college.
I had practiced by studying the art of my favorite manga artists, so my style might be a bit unconventional compared to the typical high school art club member. Even so, I was confident that my work would stand out among freshmen.
With any luck, I’d get a warm reception as “the promising newcomer!”
Caught up in daydreams of being praised by upperclassmen I hadn’t met yet, I bounded up the stairs—
“...No way.”
Right before the art room, I froze in shock.
There, standing at the door with her hand on the handle, was Yuzuhana.
What the hell is she doing here? Wasn’t she supposed to be in the go-home club?
I almost shouted at her but held my tongue. After all, I’d already decided not to get involved with her.
But as if sensing my silent indignation, Yuzuhana glanced back at me.
She smirked, lifting the corner of her mouth with an air of triumph.
(Oh? Too slow, weren’t you?)
(What’s your game, Yuzuhana?!)
(Isn’t it obvious? I’m joining the art club.)
(You should let me have it!)
(If you want me to step aside, try showing some proper humility.)
(Like hell I’m groveling to you!)
(Then just stand there and watch as I walk into the art room. Behold, my glorious entrance—!)
Our mental sparring flared silently, neither of us backing down.
Yuzuhana’s words might just be my imagination, but they’re probably spot on. Her expression says it all.
And so, all I could do was silently watch as Yuzuhana stepped into the art room.
Damn it! First the library committee, now the art club—she’s completely sabotaging my plans!
The upperclassmen, unaware of our history, would surely welcome me into the club. But I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing my high school days with Yuzuhana. If she was going to pick the art club, I had no choice but to find another place for myself.
“Still…”
The computer club sounded intriguing, but it didn’t seem like they focused on gaming. It was probably more about learning practical skills for the future.
Which meant my only hope lay with the hobby clubs.
The difference between a club and a hobby club, as I recalled, was the number of members. Once a hobby club reached the required number, it could officially become a club, which meant funding and more resources. That also meant hobby clubs would be eager to welcome new members.
I descended to the first floor and headed toward the bulletin board.
Scanning the recruitment flyers plastered across it—
“Ah.”
One caught my eye.
The Manga Hobby Research Club.
Perfect for someone like me who loves manga and has a passion for illustration.
The representative was someone named Akabane Chizuru, a third-year student from Class 1.
The flyer featured a character illustration—apparently a personification of our school—with a style eerily similar to mine. It was incredibly well-drawn, almost professional-grade.
Spending my afternoons with a senior whose artistic taste mirrored mine? It sounded like an absolute win.
I checked the flyer for the club’s location and headed back up to the third floor.
The Manga Research Hobby Club’s room was three doors down from the art room.
When I arrived, the door was locked, so I waited outside for a while.
Before long, a girl with long black hair and glasses approached.
“Oh? Who might you be?”
"I'm Kurose from Class 1-A. Are you Akabane-senpai?"
"That’s me, Akabane. So, Kurose-kun… Are you here to join the club?"
"Yes! I’d like to join!"
"Ah, wonderful, wonderful. Come on in, then!"
With a firm push on my back, I was ushered into the room.
The clubroom had shelves filled with manga and reference materials, along with a desk scattered with sketchbooks and what seemed to be photo references.
"Wow, that’s a lot of manga. Are these all yours, senpai?"
"Half of them are mine, and the rest belong to past members. If there’s anything that catches your eye, feel free to come by after school or even on weekends to read."
"Wait… Are there other members?"
"They’ve all graduated," Akabane-senpai replied with a small chuckle.
Apparently, the club was founded by a senior who graduated two years ago. Back then, there were four members, and for a brief time, they even managed to upgrade the hobby club to an official club.
"Not that it makes much difference. The main difference between a club and a hobby club is whether we get funding or not. The activities stay the same."
"So, what kind of activities do you do?"
"Our main activity is sketching," she explained. "One of our founding members believed that mastering observational drawing while still in school would be invaluable. We also publish a club magazine for the school’s cultural festival every year."
"Wait, does that mean we get to draw manga?"
"Exactly. Of course, completing a full manga right away might be a tall order. You can start with something simpler, like four-panel comics or even just illustrations. The most important thing is to have fun while creating—our club’s motto, if you will."
"That’s amazing! It sounds fantastic!"
Imagining myself spending my afternoons sketching and drawing manga with this mature and approachable senior—it was everything I could ask for in a high school club.
It felt like the perfect embodiment of a youthful, creative high school experience.
"I've made my decision! I'm joining the Manga Research Club—"
Yuzuhana showed up.
She saw me and grimaced as if she'd just bitten into something incredibly sour.
"Ugh. Why are you here?"
"That's my line. Weren't you joining the art club?"
"I couldn’t settle in. All the members were guys, and they were way too welcoming. They even started arguing over who’d buy me a drink. I felt like I was about to cause a full-blown club meltdown. So, I’ll graciously hand the art club over to you."
"Don't just decide that on your own! I've already decided I like the manga club."
"Well, I think I’ll like it too."
"You don’t even know what kind of activities they do here yet!"
"If it’s something you like, I’ll probably like it too!"
"So, does that mean you both want to join?" asked Akabane-senpai.
"No, I'm the only one joining!" I declared.
"No, I'm the one joining!" Yuzuhana shot back.
"I’m way more suited for this club! I’ve even published a doujinshi before!" I said, puffing up.
"Wow, that’s impressive for someone your age. A real promising newcomer has arrived!" Akabane-senpai commented.
That was exactly what I wanted to hear!
Now I wanted to join even more.
"Hold on a second! Don’t take all the credit! I helped with that doujinshi too, you know. We pulled all-nighters for days!" Yuzuhana protested.
"I thanked you properly, didn’t I? I even took you on a hot spring trip! A 15,000-yen-per-night inn, three nights in a row!"
"You were enjoying yourself too! And I had to pay for my share!"
"You’re the one who insisted! Besides, I treated you to lunch, didn’t I? That 2,500-yen meal!"
"I can’t believe you remember all those little details. You’re such a petty guy!"
"I remember because it was fun! You enjoyed the hot springs too, didn’t you?"
"I couldn’t help it! It had been ages since we went on a trip together… Wait, what are you doing?"
"Setting up a voice recorder. Lovers’ quarrels make for excellent creative inspiration," Akabane-senpai said nonchalantly.
"We’re not having a lovers’ quarrel!" we shouted in unison.
"But you’re dating, right?"
"We are not dating!" we barked again, perfectly synchronized.
"Your timing is impeccable," she remarked with a chuckle.
Senpai smiled warmly and said, "Anyway, I’d be delighted if both of you joined."
"Not happening unless she gives up on joining first!" I snapped.
"Same here! I won’t join unless he promises to stay out!" Yuzuhana shot back.
We turned our backs on each other, simultaneously heading for the exit.
"Wait a moment," Akabane-senpai called, stopping us. She pulled a booklet from a shelf.
"This is last year’s cultural festival publication. Even if you don’t join, you’re welcome to drop by anytime if you’re interested."
She was such a genuinely kind senior.
It made me curse the fact that Yuzuhana and I shared such similar tastes even more. Back when we first met, she had zero interest in manga, anime, or games. But before I knew it, she’d become as much of an otaku as me.
For a loner like me, having an otaku friend to hang out with had been an absolute joy.
Things went off the rails when I started having romantic feelings for her. If I hadn’t fallen for Yuzuhana, we never would’ve gotten married. We wouldn’t have ended up on such bad terms. Instead, we could’ve stayed best friends, sharing those fun, carefree days together.
A cute otaku girl became my girlfriend, and then my wife. Back then, I genuinely believed, "I’m the happiest man in the world!" Now, I feel like punching that version of myself square in the face.
If only we hadn’t gotten married.
If only we hadn’t dated.
If only I hadn’t fallen in love.
We could’ve still been enjoying those fun, carefree days together.
But it’s too late for regrets.
Now, we’re neither husband and wife, nor lovers, and there isn’t even a trace of romantic feeling left between us. But because we can’t stand each other, we can’t even be friends. There’s no chance we’ll ever get back to those happy days again—not in this lifetime, or the next.
After stuffing the club’s publication into my bag, Yuzuhana and I left the room, practically racing to be the first out the door.
☆
It was Saturday, just past noon.
After finishing lunch, I left the house.
My destination was an internet café in the shopping district. Lately, I’d only used it as a place to crash after work, but this time, I was planning to fully enjoy its manga, anime, and free drinks to the fullest.
With that in mind, I headed to the station under the warm spring sun when—
“...Why the hell are you here?”
“That’s my line.”
I ran into Yuzuhana on the train platform.
She was dressed in a one-piece dress and a cardigan. The outfit was cute, but the way she glared at me with her sharp, piercing eyes was anything but. It felt like she was ready to pounce on me at any moment.
“Are you stalking me or something?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Are you reading my mind and trying to get ahead of me?”
“I don’t have any superpowers, thank you. But I can tell exactly what you’re thinking. Right now, you’re probably thinking, ‘That outfit doesn’t suit her.’”
“Well, at least now I’m sure you can’t read minds.”
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m spot on, aren’t you?”
“Wrong.”
“Then, what do you think about this outfit?”
“It’s cute. The outfit is.”
“Being complimented by someone as fashion-blind as you doesn’t make me happy.”
“Then what the hell is the right answer?”
“Leaving the station would be the right answer.”
“Unfortunately for you, I have no intention of leaving.”
“Then switch train cars.”
“I don’t owe you that courtesy.”
As sparks flew between us, Yuzuhana suddenly remembered something and spoke up.
“Come to think of it, I used to give you chocolates every Valentine’s Day. You should repay that debt right here, right now.”
“I already paid it back on White Day, so we’re even.”
“Excuse me? Mine were handmade chocolates filled with love, you know?”
“And I spent a ton of time picking out the perfect gift in return. Speaking of which, you owe me for that time you insisted on going out in the middle of the night, and I took you on a late-night drive.”
“I repaid you for that with a massage, so we’re even. By the way, remember how you used to sigh and say, ‘A girl in a white dress and a straw hat only exists in anime...’?”
“And what about it?”
“I went to that sunflower field dressed just like that for you, so that cancels it out.”
“That’s negated by the sunflower necklace I gave you because you looked like you wanted it. And let’s not forget your latte art obsession back then.”
“Oh, right, the stuff that was trending on social media. I even bought a photo book.”
“Well, I took you to a café that served latte art, and I practiced making latte art myself so you could have it anytime you wanted. Two moves. Your turn.”
“Fine, my turn. You randomly said, ‘I kind of want to know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a kabe-don,’ so I did one for you. That cancels it out.”
“Lame. Weak move.”
“But you were thrilled! You even said, ‘It’s surprisingly heart-pounding.’”
“That’s beside the point. Also, you’re supposed to give two examples.”
“Why two?”
“Because I gave two. Taking you to the café and practicing latte art—see? Two. Fair is fair.”
“Just lump them together as one!”
“Nope. Two examples, or I win.”
“Ugh, you’re so petty! Fine, whatever. I’ve got plenty of memories to work with anyway.”
We kept firing memories at each other like bullets.
Before a winner could be decided, the train arrived, and we both scrambled to get on board.
There was a single open two-seater, and we raced to claim it.
I managed to grab the window seat first, but Yuzuhana plopped herself down right next to me.
“Why are you sitting here?” I asked.
“There’s nowhere else to sit.”
“There are a few open seats here and there.”
“Sitting next to strangers makes me nervous, okay?”
But sitting next to your ex-husband? Sure, no nerves there—though I guess it’s not exactly relaxing either.
“It’s cramped. Move over a bit”
“...Selfish.”
“Did you just call me selfish?”
“Nope. And stop talking. You’re disturbing the other passengers.”
For someone as self-conscious about public image as Yuzuhana, a single “You’re disturbing others” line worked like a charm. She went quiet but still clearly wanted to vent her frustrations.
“Then lend me your phone,” she muttered under her breath.
“What for?”
“Just do it.”
“...Fine. Don’t break it.”
I handed her my flip phone, and she fiddled with the buttons before handing it back.
Then, on her own phone, she typed something.
[You totally called me selfish, didn’t you?]
An email came from an unfamiliar address. I didn’t need to check to know it was from Yuzuhana.
Not being able to talk on the train, she decided to interrogate me via email instead. Just like how she remembers every little thing from the past, she really knows how to hold a grudge.
Struggling with the outdated flip phone interface, I typed out a reply.
[Please stop sending spam. I’ll report you.]
She smacked my thigh with a light thwack.
[No violence!]
[You definitely called me selfish, didn’t you?]
Persistent as ever…
To change the subject, I sent her a goofy photo of Sana pulling a funny face.
Yuzuhana let out a quiet snort of laughter.
And then—another thwack.
[Don’t make me laugh. People around us will think I’m weird.]
[If it bothers you, why not make me laugh instead?]
[Fine, turn around.]
I turned to look out the window, and a faint click of a camera shutter followed.
An email arrived with an attached photo. When I opened it, it was a picture of Yuzuhana’s face.
[Why are you making a kissing face?]
[It’s a pout! Did I look like this when we kissed?!]
[Only I would know.]
[Tell me honestly! I won’t get mad!]
[Not saying. That’s always what you say before you get mad.]
[I said I wouldn’t get mad!]
[See? You’re already mad.]
[I’m not mad!]
[Still mad.]
She shot me a death glare just as the train pulled into our destination.
Just as I was about to stand, Yuzuhana stood up too. It wasn’t surprising—if you’re heading out on a weekend, it’s either to the shopping mall or the marketplace, and this station serves as the nearest stop to both.
Without a word, we exited the station together. My stride was naturally longer, but Yuzuhana matched my pace by walking quickly as if in competition.
“Stop following me,” she said.
“You’re the one following me. And why are you even talking to me?” I shot back.
“Talking outside doesn’t bother anyone.”
“We agreed not to get involved with each other.”
“You’re the one who started getting involved.”
Still bickering, we kept walking without stopping, eventually arriving at the marketplace.
We stopped almost simultaneously.
“You’re heading to the net café too?!”
“You’re going to the net café?!”
Realizing we shared the same destination, we raced inside as if it were a contest. This place is small, and it’s not unusual for all the seats to be taken on a weekend. There was no way I was letting her snag the last spot and wound my pride.
Reaching the counter at the same time, the staff greeted us warmly.
“Welcome! A table for two?”
“No, for one!” we said in unison.
The clerk hesitated for a moment before continuing apologetically. “I’m terribly sorry, but we’re quite busy today. There’s only one seat available at the moment.”
“You should give it to me,” I said.
“You’re the one who should give it up! You already own a ton of manga.”
“I was in the mood to spend the whole day at a net café today.”
“I’ve been thinking about the manga I wanted to read here since this morning!”
"Why don’t you wear glasses regularly? Your eyesight’s bad anyway,” I said as I settled into the seat, holding a gag manga.
Yuzuhana adjusted her glasses slightly, glaring at me. “What’s with the unsolicited advice? I don’t like wearing them unless I have to.”
“It’s not advice; it’s common sense. You’ll ruin your eyes even more squinting like that all the time.”
“I don’t need you worrying about my eyes, thanks. And I only wear them when I need to read. Besides,” she added, pouting slightly, “I think glasses don’t suit me.”
I scoffed lightly. “Glasses suit you just fine.”
“...What?”
“I said, they suit you. There, happy now?”
Her lips twitched, like she was trying not to smile but also didn’t know how to respond. “Whatever. You’re probably just saying that to shut me up.”
“Think what you want.” I turned to my manga, opening it to the first page.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Yuzuhana fiddling with the edge of her glasses, clearly a little pleased but trying to play it off.
“Don’t just sit there gawking,” I said, flipping a page. “Weren’t you the one rushing to read something this morning? Get to it.”
“Mind your own business,” she muttered, grabbing a nearby romance manga and starting to read.
For a while, the only sound between us was the occasional rustling of pages. Despite being in such close quarters, it wasn’t as suffocating as I’d feared.
In fact, it almost felt… normal. Like the days when we used to hang out without any tension hanging over us.
But that thought didn’t linger long. This was only temporary—an accidental overlap of plans.
Still, as I glanced at her completely absorbed in her book, glasses slipping down her nose, I couldn’t help but think… maybe this wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
"I don't want to. It’s embarrassing to suddenly start wearing glasses now."
"You're overthinking it. Nobody’s paying that much attention."
"It’s more about how it feels... Are you sure it doesn’t look weird?"
"You’re persistent. I already said it suits you."
"You didn’t actually say it suits me, though…"
Yuzuhana lowered her face, cutting off the conversation on her own, and started reading.
Sitting beside her, I also began diving into my manga.
At first, I was distracted by Yuzuhana, but soon enough, I got absorbed in the story—
"…Pfft."
"…What’s so funny?"
"Nothing, just laughed."
"Right."
Her response was curt, but… curious about what I was reading, she kept sneaking glances at my manga. It was distracting.
"…Do you want to know?"
"Of course I do. What are you reading?"
"This."
I showed her the page that made me burst out laughing. Yuzuhana glanced at it and let out a small chuckle.
"Ah, that one. Hasn’t it been adapted into an anime yet?"
"It will be—five years from now. Guess the times finally caught up with it. Props to whoever greenlit the project; they’ve got a great eye for talent."
"Totally. I heard it was almost canceled early on, but it’s actually really good, isn’t it?"
"Yeah. For a while, I thought my sense of humor was broken because it wasn’t popular. Seeing you laugh so hard at it back then made me feel better."
"I thought I was going to laugh my guts out back then."
"You even started laughing out of nowhere while you were asleep."
"And it was a real struggle trying not to laugh during lectures."
"You even asked me to pinch your arm so you wouldn’t laugh. That was unreasonable."
"It wasn’t unreasonable."
"It totally was. Like I could actually pinch you."
"It’s fine. It wouldn’t hurt even if you did."
"Then there’s no point in pinching you."
"That’s not the point. Just leave the manga when you’re done. I want to read it too."
"Sure, sure."
It saved me the trouble of returning the manga, so I didn’t mind lending it to her. Still, I felt oddly reluctant for the manga talk to end.
Talking about manga after so long really was fun.
Although picking my ex-wife as a conversation partner wasn’t exactly ideal… Well, we were stuck together until the evening anyway. Better to enjoy a relaxed atmosphere than sit in awkward silence and miss out on fully enjoying the net café.
"…So, what are you reading?"
Maybe she wanted to keep the manga talk going too, because she showed me the cover without any sign of irritation.
"This one."
"Ah, you’ve always liked that author."
"Especially their third series. That cliffhanger where the protagonist got sent back in time—waiting to read the continuation is killing me."
"And the results of the popularity poll are a big deal too."
"Right? They were supposed to be announced next month, but now we have to wait another year or two. Well, it’s obvious Antony’s going to take first place, though."
"What? No way, it’s gotta be Ange!"
"This is a shonen manga, you know? Of course the protagonist is going to take first place."
"Even so, the heroine could still win. Ange is seriously adorable."
"Ange is the cutest, no doubt, but she’ll split votes with Chloe and probably end up around fourth place."
"Ah, yeah, good point. But remember that big Ange-focused chapter right before the voting deadline? After that performance, anyone would want to vote for her."
"True, that was an absolute masterpiece of a chapter."
As the manga talk heated up, maybe it started to get to Yuzuhana, because she grabbed the remote control.
"It’s hot. I’m turning on the AC."
"It’s not hot."
"It is hot."
"It’s not. If you’re hot, just take off your cardigan."
"Pervert."
"I’m not."
"Whatever, I’m turning it on."
"Fine, just focus on your reading."
She switched on the AC and went back to her book.
The cool air wrapped around me, and I couldn’t help but shiver a little.
"…You’re such a cold-weather wimp."
"You’re just a hot-weather freak. Can I turn this off now?"
"No way. If my hands get sweaty, they’ll smudge the manga pages."
So the manga mattered more to her than I did. Not like I wasn’t expecting that.
We hadn’t had any major fights today, likely because being surrounded by our favorite manga was soothing her temper. That didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t stand me. There’s no way someone like her would go out of their way to be considerate of—
"Fine, I’ll lend you my cardigan," Yuzuhana said with a sigh.
"...Huh? Your cardigan?"
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A rare act of consideration from her?
"It’s hard to concentrate on my reading when you’re sitting there shivering next to me."
"Then why didn’t you just take it off before you turned on the AC?"
"Ugh, stop nitpicking. I’m being nice here, so just take it, will you? Not like you have to wear it, but don’t come whining to me if you catch a cold."
"Fine. But don’t complain later that my smell rubbed off on it. And for the record, I’m not paying for your dry-cleaning bill."
"Do I look that petty to you? Unlike a certain someone, I’ve got a generous spirit."
The whole reason I was cold in the first place was because she cranked up the AC. And as for her so-called generous spirit, I had a few choice words I could say about that. But there was no point in stirring up more drama—I’d only make things worse for myself.
Swallowing the urge to retort, I quietly accepted the cardigan.
"...Thanks."
"...You’re welcome. Hurry up and put it on before you actually catch a cold."
"Yeah, yeah."
As I slipped it on, a soft, sweet scent enveloped me.
Wrapped in Yuzuhana's fragrance, I returned to my reading. Occasionally, we exchanged thoughts about our respective mangas, sharing snippets of enthusiasm. The hours passed without incident, and before we knew it, the sun had set. We'd fully indulged in the cozy retreat of the net café.
I never would’ve imagined relaxing in a couple’s seat with my ex-wife, but somehow, today turned out to be surprisingly comfortable. Not that I’d willingly suggest another outing to a net café with her—still, that lingering sense of unease I always felt around her seemed to have eased just a little.
Or maybe I was just imagining it.
☆
What a total lapse in judgment. To think I’d actually enjoy a day at a net café with my ex-husband…!
No, no. It was just because the manga was too good to ignore! Sure, talking about manga after so long was fun, but if he hadn’t been there, I’m positive it would have been much more comfortable.
And so, with that conclusion in mind, I decided to avoid Kohei today. I mean, things are always more pleasant without him around.
Not that it’s particularly hard to avoid him—it’s Sunday, after all. As long as I stay in my apartment, there’s no chance of running into him. But it’s the weekend, and staying cooped up indoors feels like such a waste.
“Maybe I’ll hit up the arcade today.”
There are two arcades nearby—one in the shopping mall and one in the shopping district.
Now, here’s the tricky part: Kohei and I share an almost ridiculous number of similarities, from hobbies to preferences to even how we think.
Back when we were dating, I’d often go out on my own only to run into him by chance, and those run-ins would inevitably turn into impromptu dates.
At the time, I thought, “We’re connected by the red string of fate!” But looking back now, it’s more like, “Was he stalking me?”
Given our uncanny compatibility (though I wish it weren’t the case), if I head out without a plan, there’s a good chance I’ll bump into him again today.
But here’s where I turn the tables. Since I feel like going to the shopping mall, I’ll outsmart him by heading to the arcade in the shopping district instead.
After an early lunch, I headed to the station, boarded a train where Kōhei was blissfully absent, and arrived at the shopping district.
Navigating the bustling arcade streets, I finally reached the game center.
The entrance was surrounded by capsule toy machines clearly aimed at children, and I could see inside the arcade from outside.
“…He’s not here.”
After confirming my ex-husband wasn’t around, I stepped inside.
Heh, I outsmarted him! This round goes to me! Relishing my little victory, I wandered through the arcade until something caught my eye—a claw machine.
“This is…”
Inside were plushies from the wildly popular game Capsule Monsters. One of the prizes was Nyandarth, my favorite. It was exactly like the one I used to cherish.
The first time I met Nyandarth was back in May of my freshman year of college.
That day, I’d gone to a shopping mall with a movie theater. After being deeply moved by an animal movie, I ran into Kōhei on my way out.
At the time, we were more than acquaintances but not quite friends yet, so things felt a bit awkward. But Kōhei mentioned that the movie ticket stub could be used for a free try at a claw machine. That’s how we ended up at the arcade together.
And that’s when I saw it—Nyandarth. It was love at first sight.
Naturally, I tried to win it. And, naturally, I failed. Claw machines aren’t so kind that a beginner could win on their first try.
Then, Kohei stepped in and won Nyandarth for me. I couldn’t help but think he looked cool when he snagged it in one try, and when he handed it to me, my opinion of him shot through the roof.
Of course, as he gave it to me, he couldn’t resist mumbling something like, “Nyandarth looks nimble, but it’s slow as hell and has paper-thin defenses. No way I’d ever put it in my party.” He said it all in one breath, awkward and flustered.
At the time, I couldn’t understand it, but now I do. Every time I brought it out in battle, it would be mercilessly taken down in a single blow… That guy doesn’t know the meaning of holding back. Though, being shown mercy would’ve been its own kind of humiliation.
But setting that aside, meeting it here must be fate.
It may come with the baggage of being the first gift I got from him… And sure, every time I look at it, my ex-husband’s embarrassed face pops into my mind. But having spotted this Meowth, I have to catch it and take it home.
Except—
“Grrr…”
I can’t get it at all.
It doesn’t feel like I ever will.
The fact that I, with nine years of otaku experience, am struggling like this is unbelievable!
Well, after I got closer to Kohei, he was always the one to grab these for me, so I’ve never actually gotten one on my own.
Even so, Kohei used to win them so effortlessly. My pride won’t allow me to lose to him. I will get it this time!
And that’s how I fell into the trap. A thousand-yen bills disappeared one after another, my funds were running out, and I was forced to make a difficult decision.
As much as it annoys me to ask him for help… I’ll have to swallow my pride if I want to get that Meowth.
[Teach me some tips for crane games. A “friend” asked.]
[Who’s this “friend”?]
When I sent Kohei an email, he replied right away. If only he’d responded this quickly back when I messaged him during work. I get it, he was busy with his job, and maybe I was a bit childish to complain about it back then… But couldn’t he at least have pretended to go to the bathroom and replied?
Whenever I said that, he’d always come back with, “I don’t even have time to go to the bathroom!”
If that’s the case, he should have just quit that company. Working there would’ve ruined his health for sure.
He used to say things like, "Being unemployed isn’t a good look," but I didn’t marry Kohei because he had a job. I would have preferred him unemployed over wrecking his body. That way, we could have spent every day together, and we probably wouldn’t have grown apart...
[Does it matter who it is?]
[If you humbly say, “Please teach me,” I might just impart my wisdom.]
There it is. The high-and-mighty attitude.
Kohei has this habit of taking the upper hand in everything. One comment at a time isn’t so bad, but when it piles up, it’s enough to make me want to yell. I’ll let it slide this time since I’m technically the one asking for advice.
[Do you really think I’d lower myself to ask you for help?]
[I do.]
[Where does that confidence even come from?]
[Look at the entrance.]
…Kohei was standing at the entrance.
Grinning smugly, he started walking toward me.
Aaaaaahhhh!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!
This is the worst! The absolute worst! I was completely played!
“I-I was just here with a friend a minute ago!”
“That’s a weak excuse. I’ve been watching you the whole time.”
“If you were watching, then say something!”
“You should’ve just said you wanted to know the trick.”
“And if I had… would you have told me?”
“Yeah, I would.”
“W-Why?!”
“Watching you panic like that really made my day.”
Seriously, the worst!
“So, which one do you want?”
“That one.”
“Ah, Meowth. You always liked it, didn’t you? Wasn’t it always part of your party?”
“Yeah. And it kept getting knocked out by you.”
“You’re still hung up on that? You were the one who said you wouldn’t forgive me if I went easy on you.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to take it out in one hit… So, do you know the trick or not?”
“I do. But this one over here is easier to get. You liked Nyansuta too, didn’t you?”
“I want Meowth. I want to display it in my room, just like before.”
“Wasn’t it me who got it for you back then?”
“You grabbed it in one try. That’s why I thought I could do it too…”
“How much have you poured into this so far?”
“Five thousand yen.”
“You’ve really fallen into the pit…”
“It’s because you didn’t step in and say something sooner!”
“Well, you would’ve just gotten mad if I had.”
“That’s…”
Before today, I probably would have gotten mad.
After all, he’s my ex-husband, someone I divorced after countless fights.
But strangely enough, I don’t feel annoyed today. It’s probably because yesterday felt so comfortable—like the good old days.
Still, if someone asked whether I’d want to chat with him every day, I wouldn’t know how to answer—not that I could admit it even if I did feel that way, considering we’re divorced.
“I wouldn’t get mad just because you spoke to me now.”
The truth is, my resentment toward Kohei has mostly faded to the point where talking like this doesn’t bother me.
Not that I’ll ever let him see me smile—I refuse to let him think I’m an easy woman.
“So, what’s the trick?”
“First, you call over the staff.”
“And then?”
“Ask them to move it to a more accessible spot.”
“…That’s not really a trick, is it?”
“It’s the most reliable method. You’ve spent 5,000 yen already, so they’ll probably do it for you.”
“Then you go ask them.”
“Why me?”
“Because I’m nervous, obviously. Come on, let’s go.”
I grabbed the loose sleeve of his oversized shirt, tugging him toward the staff, and gave him a firm pat on the back.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he muttered before turning to the employee.
“Excuse me, I’ve spent over 5,000 yen, but I haven’t been able to win the prize. Could you move it to a better spot for me?”
“Of course. Which machine?”
He led the staff to the claw machine, where they moved the prize closer to the drop chute.
“So, what now? Want me to win it for you?”
“No, I’ll do it myself. I’ve come this far, so I’ll see it through.”
I inserted the coin, carefully maneuvered the crane with laser focus, and—success!
“I got it! I got it! This is what I’m capable of!”
“Well, I helped a little, you know.”
“I know. I’ll treat you to a drink as thanks.”
Leaving a debt unpaid is something my pride won’t allow.
Since the air conditioning inside was cold, and Kohei tends to feel chilly, I decided to buy the drink from a vending machine outside.
In front of the vending machine, a little girl—maybe around four years old—was crying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Think she’s lost?”
“Obviously. What I’m trying to figure out is why she’s crying. She might have a stomachache, for all we know.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s in pain.”
“She doesn’t look it, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t. And anyway, I’m talking to her, so don’t butt in.”
“I’m not butting in. I’m just worried about her too.”
“Then leave this to me.”
“I only stepped in because you’re shy around strangers.”
He’s right—I am shy. Back when I used to be on my own, it caused all sorts of problems. Like not being able to ask for the price of an item without a tag and ending up buying something more expensive than I expected, or wandering through labyrinth-like train stations for hours because I couldn’t ask for directions.
But after I got close to Kohei, those struggles disappeared. Whenever I was in trouble, he’d step in and handle things for me.
At first, I was grateful every time. But somewhere along the way, I started to take his help for granted. Without realizing it, I might’ve been frustrating him more and more.
If I’d expressed my gratitude every time, would our relationship have turned out differently?
…I don’t know. And there’s no way to find out now.
Our relationship is already over.
But—if we’re going to start spending time together again, even if just as friends, I should at least get better at saying, “Thank you.”
…Well, depending on Kohei’s attitude, that is.
“Hey, don’t just clam up. Don’t tell me you’re shy around me now?”
“I don’t hold back with you, that’s for sure.”
“Figured as much. I’ve personally experienced how sharp your tongue can be. Seriously, how do you even come up with some of those awful things you say?”
“Like you’re one to talk! You’ve said plenty of nasty things too—”
“Y-You two are scary…”
“S-Sorry! Don’t worry, big brother here isn’t scary at all.”
“And big sister isn’t scary either, okay?”
“But… you were angry…”
“N-No, we weren’t angry! Not at all!”
“Actually, we’re really good friends!”
Kohei suddenly grabbed my hand and started swinging it wildly back and forth.
If you’re going to hold my hand, at least give me some warning! It startled me, that’s all—not like I was flustered or anything! …Though, how long does he plan on holding it? If he doesn’t let go soon, I’m going to start sweating.
Still, I have to endure it. Normally, I’d shake him off immediately, but we need to act friendly to reassure this little girl.
Watching Kohei and me “getting along,” the girl seemed to relax. Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, Kohei finally let go of my hand. …Too late, though—I was already sweating. Not that he seemed to care, since he didn’t wipe his hand on his clothes or anything.
Hmph. Lucky for him. If he’d wiped his hand like it was gross, I’d have stomped on his foot.
Anyway, we need to find her mom as soon as possible.
“For now, can you tell big sister your name?”
“…Miu.”
“Were you shopping with your mom, Miu-chan?”
“Yeah. But… Miu was looking at the stuffed animals, and then… she was gone…”
“Oh, I see. Miu-chan, you like stuffed animals, huh?”
“Yeah. I like Meowth too.”
“Meowth is super cute, isn’t it? Well then, how about I give you this one?”
“For real?”
“Yep, it’s yours. So, no more tears, okay? Let’s look for your mom together with Meowth.”
“Okay!”
Miu-chan nodded brightly.
“I’ll go look for her. You stay here with Miu-chan,” Kohei said.
“Wouldn’t it be better if we all looked together?”
“What if we end up passing each other? Miu-chan was just here a moment ago, so her mom’s probably still close by. If I call out loudly, her mom should notice and come this way.”
“Aren’t you embarrassed to yell like that?”
“Of course it’s embarrassing. But we can’t just leave a lost kid alone, can we?”
“See, Miu-chan? The big brother is going to find your mom for you.”
“Good luck, big brother!”
“Thanks.”
“And you too, big sister!”
What? Me too? It’s super embarrassing, but… if Kohei’s willing to set aside his embarrassment to help, I guess I have to as well.
“...G-Good luck!”
“Uh, thanks,” he replied, his cheeks flushing faintly.
Kohei stood at the edge of the busy street and, with a deep breath, shouted, “Miu-chan’s mom! Miu-chan is over here!”
As passersby glanced at him curiously, a woman suddenly rushed toward us.
"Are you Miu-chan's mother?"
"Y-yes. Where’s Miu…?"
"Over there."
Kohei pointed in our direction.
Her mother rushed over, and Miu’s face lit up with a bright smile.
“Oh, thank goodness…! You disappeared so suddenly; I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Miu was looking at the toys! And then big sister gave me this!”
“Thank you so much. Please, let me pay for it—”
“No, that’s okay. Just promise to take good care of it, all right?”
“Of course! Miu will treasure it forever!”
Miu hugged the Meowth tightly, took her mother’s hand, and the two walked off with big smiles.
Truthfully, I didn’t want to part with it… but if it’s with Miu-chan, I know she’ll cherish it.
"...If you really want, I can get another Meowth for you," Kohei said.
“Huh? Why?”
“Does the reason even matter? The question is whether you want me to or not.”
“Well… If you’re willing to, then yes, I’d like that, but…”
“But what? You don’t think you’d love a Meowth I got for you?”
“N-no, that’s not it! That’s not what I mean…”
I just can’t figure out Kohei’s intentions. Why is he being so kind to me, someone he supposedly can’t stand?
Is it just a whim? Or did what happened yesterday make him feel less antagonistic toward me, too?
“If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”
“I never said I didn’t want it! It annoys me to get a gift from you, Kohei, but... if it’s Nyandarth, I’m confident I could love it.”
“As expected of someone who’s stuck with the slow and fragile Nyandarth all this time.”
“Shut up! It has high attack power, you know!”
“Not that it’s ever been put to use.”
“You always have something to say, don’t you?!”
Well, whatever. If he’s going to get me a Nyandarth, I’ll let it slide just this once.
“But won’t you have to spend another 5,000 yen or so to get it moved into position?”
“I don’t need to do that. I can get it for under 1,000 yen.”
“Why don’t you just say you’ll get it in one shot?”
“I haven’t played a crane game in a while, so nailing it in one go is a bit much. So, what’s the plan?”
“...Maybe I’ll thank you with about ten cans of juice?”
“Are you trying to destroy my stomach? One can is enough.”
“Alright then… I’ll leave it to you.”
I waited for a while behind Kohei, who was operating the crane with a serious expression.
The claw dropped Nyandarth, and it bumped into Nyastar.
Nyastar rolled and fell out of the machine.
“Oh! Just another 1,000 yen! Another 1,000 yen, and I can get it!”
“It’s fine, really.”
“My pride won’t let me leave it like this!”
“I said it’s fine. You got me Nyastar, didn’t you?”
“But, but... you’d prefer Nyandarth, wouldn’t you?”
Kohei had a desperate look on his face.
A desperate face as he tried to keep his promise to me.
I wasn’t sure if he was doing it to make me happy or to protect his own pride, but—
“No, Nyastar is fine.”
I was just happy that he tried so hard to get it for me.
“If you’re sure… Take good care of it, alright?”
“I don’t need you to tell me that. ...Thanks for getting it for me.”
“Yeah. …So, you didn’t forget our deal, did you?”
“Of course not. Go ahead, pick whatever you want to drink.”
“They’re all the same price, though...”
We left the store.
As we drank our juice in front of the arcade, raindrops began to fall one by one.
“Ugh. You’ve got to be kidding me... I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
“Didn’t you check the weather forecast? It said there was a 30% chance of rain in the afternoon.”
“30% usually means it won’t rain. Well, I’ll just kill time in the arcade until it stops. What about you?”
“I’m heading home. I haven’t done my math homework yet.”
“Crap. I totally forgot...”
Our math teacher is a man who looks like he could be a P.E. teacher.
True to his appearance, he’s strict, and any student who forgets their homework gets a long, stern lecture.
“Are you heading home too?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“What about the umbrella?”
“I’ll just have to buy one at the convenience store.”
As we talked, the rain started to come down harder.
“With this rain, you’d be soaked by the time you got to the convenience store…”
“…If you insist, I could let you share my umbrella.”
Kohei looked at me with surprise.
I was just as surprised. I never thought those words would come out of my mouth. That I’d actually suggest sharing an umbrella with Kohei.
Was it because I was so happy he got Nyastar for me? Maybe it made me feel like being a little kinder to him.
“…How many cans of juice?”
“None. Unlike you, I have a generous heart. …So, what’s it going to be?”
“Then… I’ll take you up on that.”
“Just for today, I’ll make an exception and let you share it. If it weren’t for me, you’d have been drenched. You’re really lucky I’m here, you know.”
“…Let’s just go with that for today.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
The sound of the rain drowned out his words.
It felt like he said something, but… oh well.
I opened my folding umbrella.
Kohei hesitantly stepped under it.
The compact umbrella, already small by itself, felt incredibly cramped with the two of us underneath. Our shoulders brushed against each other.
And yet… it didn’t feel all that uncomfortable.
Act 2 END
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