I . Have , A ? Secret !

OKAY, LOOK—even I know it’s major cringe to notice when a girl smells different. But the fact is, it’s not the sort of thing you can un-notice.

This morning, when Miki-san asked me “How’s it going, kiddo?” I replied with the world’s most boring answer: “I…I’m literally the same age as you.” I instantly regretted not coming up with something better, but at the same time, I felt like I might just survive school today. Then, as she walked past, I noticed it. Her shampoo smelled different.

Did she switch brands? Weird, because I seemed to remember her saying she loved her shampoo so much that she carried a bottle of it around with her at all times. But yeah, obviously I couldn’t ask her about it. She’d categorize me as a creep. And I enjoyed my current position as “average nobody,” thank you very much.

Okay, not really.

As I sat at my desk in the back corner by the windows, I could see Miki-san at the front of the room, energetically hugging another girl. A question mark appeared over the other girl’s head.

“Mickey, did you start using a different shampoo? How come?”

Even if sharing a hug was out of the question, surely even I could have found a way to casually ask her, like that other girl…? No, no, no. For me, it would only backfire. Honestly, I should just be grateful someone else asked her in my place.

As I watched her surreptitiously, she let out a nasally “Ha ha!” and answered, “It’s a secret!”

An exclamation point hovered over her head—the question had made her happy.

Times like these, I always got to thinking. Her shampoo was different, and there was a secret reason behind it…but she wanted someone to ask about it.

Does she have a new boyfriend or something?

As my mood took a sharp nosedive, I heard the 8:30 bell start to ring.

 

“Who here knows the difference between ‘thee’ and ‘thou’?”

We were in the middle of classical studies, and the teacher’s question had put a question mark over just about everyone’s heads, including my own. Not that I could see it, of course. Only a handful of people had exclamation points or ellipses, and of those, only one was willing to draw attention to herself: Miki-san.

“Pick me!”

Her hand shot up like an arrow. Classical studies was her favorite class of the day; she practically vibrated the whole time. During math class, however, an ellipsis hung over her head as she grumbled to herself. Truth be told, I could watch her all day and never get bored…but if someone caught me staring at her, my life would be over, so I had to be careful.

Unfortunately, it was proving difficult to appreciate her beauty with the “boyfriend” theory hanging over my head, making me miserable. I bet HE gets to see all the sides of her she never lets show.

After class, as I lay slumped over my desk, I heard someone sit down at the empty desk next to me.

“They said English class is gonna be in the language lab, just FYI.”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

“You okay? You looked like you were zoning out all through class, man.”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

“Are you even listening? I asked you a question!”

I looked up to find Zuka grinning at me cheerfully. His tanned face was so radiant, I half-wondered if he’d absorbed the sun’s rays permanently.

“You feeling sick or something?”

“No, I’m just tired.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, me too.”

He accepted my lame excuse without batting an eye. A single period floated overhead as he let out a big yawn. We’d been friends ever since our first year of high school; his face was always expressive, and his eyebrows carefully manicured.

“Come on. Let’s get over there before they start cussing us out in English. Plus, I forgot my homework.”

Snickering to himself, he clapped me on the shoulder. Then he went back to his desk and started prepping for English class. Likewise, I grabbed my textbook, notebook, and a pencil and stepped out into the hallway. Moments later, I heard Zuka behind me.

“I was up late last night watching nationals, so I didn’t get much sleep. Did you watch it?”

“No…”

“Come on, man! I’m talking about the representatives for Japan!”

Frankly, I had no idea whether he was talking about soccer or baseball or what, so there wasn’t much I could say. “Must be pretty cool to be Japan’s best.”

“Right?!” Zuka nodded, grinning. Crisis averted.

Although we were friends, the two of us were nothing alike. The only thing we had in common was our taste in music, which was how we ended up becoming friends with each other in the first place. But I guess sometimes that’s all you really need.

Zuka was athletic, good-looking, and taller than me. Anyone who saw us together probably thought we were a mismatched pair. Hell, even I was insecure about it.

Nerds like us, we’re cowards who would rather die than be caught copying the cool kids. If anyone deserved to be seen with Zuka, it was someone athletic and good-looking and cheerful and kind, like him. And if I had to choose someone from our class, it would probably be—

“Hey, Zuka! Notice anything different about me?”

Miki-san ran up next to Zuka as I walked beside him.

“What? Man, I don’t know. Do you know?” he asked me.

Obviously I couldn’t say it was her shampoo, but I couldn’t think of an answer that Miki-san would like, either, so I just shrugged like I didn’t care.

“There you have it, Mickey. Us guys aren’t gonna notice if you get your hair trimmed half an inch or whatever.”

Normally, whenever Zuka got sassy with her, she would just blink exaggeratedly and laugh. But today was different; an ellipsis rose up over her head. The emotions each type of punctuation represented generally varied from person to person, but in her case, ellipses signified frustration.

“With an attitude like that, no wonder Senpai dumped you.”

Oof.

And so Miki-san stormed off. Admittedly, yes, Zuka’s ex-girlfriend had ended their relationship just a few days prior. He claimed it was due to their differing tastes in music, but it sounded like there was more to it than that. Either way, he didn’t seem too devastated about it, so I chose not to worry about it myself, either.

“Man, that was harsh,” he laughed, like it was all fun and games. A single period floated over him—proof that he sincerely hadn’t taken it personally.

Inside the pleasantly air-conditioned language lab, Zuka and I went our separate ways. The seating arrangement was the same here as it was in our regular classroom, except instead of desks, we sat at long tables that could accommodate two students each. Embedded at the center of each table was a single computer monitor that displayed the coursework; both students would have to share this monitor.

We started class by reciting a rote English greeting, and after we made sure everyone was “fine, thank you,” it was time to focus on the monitor for listening practice. Since everyone had to share with their neighbor, this involved getting uncomfortably close to another student, which was typically nerve-racking for a loser like me. But these days, I didn’t have to worry about it; I had the monitor all to myself. Our class currently had an odd number of students, and as it happened, I was the only person sitting alone.

You see, one of the students in our class—Miyazato-san—hadn’t been back to school since the start of Golden Week about two months ago. But our class didn’t have any bullies or cliques that I knew of, so it couldn’t be that.

Miyazato-san was even more introverted than I was, if you can believe it. She was so quiet and unassuming, her sole hobby was cleaning her possessions. Maybe something happened to her that she didn’t feel comfortable talking about… I’d sat next to her for the first month of our second year, so every now and then I got worried, thinking maybe I had scared her off, but I had no way of finding out.

If I was sure that I had nothing to do with it, I could’ve asked Zuka to ask around on my behalf, but…truth be told, I had a reason to believe it might have been me. And I was terrified to think it was the conversation we had two months ago that drove her away.

I was on speaking terms with a handful of other girls in addition to Miki-san, and I was fairly confident I had successfully made friends with Miyazato-san, too. In which case, I would be well within my rights to worry about her and take action on her behalf. But I was a pathetic loser: the more I cared about someone, the more cowardly I became. It was hard for me to say the words that mattered most.

Miki-san, on the other hand, was amazing. At the start of our first year, she infamously started to pursue an older student she had a crush on by changing her shampoo, shoes, and even her belongings to suit his tastes. How did she even learn what he was into? I have no idea. Unfortunately, her obsession creeped him out, and he rejected her. Still, I often found myself wishing she would give me even a fraction of that energy…but then again, I wouldn’t want to diminish her charm, so…

“On second thought, Zuka, lend me that aggressive attitude you use on all the girls.”

“On second thought? I don’t remember you having a first thought!”

Naturally, he didn’t know about my feelings for Miki-san. I hadn’t told anyone thus far, nor was I planning to.

“Well, Miyazato-san’s in danger of getting held back if she keeps skipping, right?”

“How did you get from that to my so-called ‘aggressive attitude with girls’? Because I do not get aggressive! And yeah, I’d love it if Miyazato could graduate with the rest of us, but…she might be in trouble here soon.”

I appreciated his blunt honesty in times like these.

After English class came Biology. Then, after we finished eating lunch, we laid ourselves down on the floor of the empty music room and stared up at the ceiling, all while the AC was running on full blast.

“But if she doesn’t wanna come to school, then it’s not gonna be easy to get her to come back. Too much time has passed. Like with clubs, y’know? It’s easier to quit than beg forgiveness.”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

“I gotta say, though, it’s frustrating when people disappear. Part of me wishes she would open up and talk to us about whatever’s going on, but at the same time, I dunno if it’s something we can really solve. I just hate not being able to help, man.”

Here was something he and Miki-san had in common: a strong sense of responsibility. This was what I meant by aggressive. They went the extra mile and took action, regardless of whether it was any of their business or not, because they cared. This was a trait I wished I had.

But I didn’t, so instead I stared up at the ceiling and replied, “Yeah.”

“What are you two up to in here?”

Out of nowhere, I could hear footsteps somewhere inside the music room. Zuka’s perfect six-pack abs flexed as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. “Oh, hey, Looney.”

Now I knew who it was. Also pushing myself into a sitting position, I listened as they chatted back and forth for a bit. Once they were done, Zuka rose to his feet and looked down at me as I moved to follow suit.

“Did you wanna do something about Miyazato? Is that why you asked me to lend you my ‘aggressive attitude’? Not that I have one, for the record!”

He always wore his emotions on his sleeve, and his punctuation matched his behavior. A question mark hovered over his head.

“No, it’s not that. Not like me being aggressive will make her want to come to school any more than she does right now.”

“Yeah, for sure. To be honest, though, I think you’re fine just the way you are. If you ask me, you’re exactly the kind of person Miyazato would want to sit next to. See, everybody has their own strengths—ever heard the fable of the North Wind and the Sun? You’d be the Sun, easy.”

I could tell from the punctuation floating overhead that he wasn’t joking around.

“And before you say anything, no, I’m not the North Wind.”

Then he laughed and clapped me on the back—a little too hard, if I’m being honest. But I knew he didn’t mean any harm.

Me, personally, I was lucky enough to have two suns lighting up my empty life.

Maybe that’s what Miyazato’s missing, I thought to myself.

But as it turned out, I didn’t know the half of it.

 

The next day, no offense to Miyazato-san, something even more important happened. The empty seat beside me faded into the background.

When I passed by Miki-san, I noticed that she had gone back to her original shampoo. What could this signify? Clearly, she hadn’t gotten rid of her old shampoo, so…did she use someone else’s? Well, maybe she spent the night at a friend’s house. But if so, why didn’t she just say that instead of “It’s a secret”? And why was she happy that someone noticed?

Ultimately, I felt like crap all over again.

Even then, with a little time, I probably could have convinced myself that Miki-san had her own nonsensical reasons for alternating shampoos…except it kept happening. A week later, I smelled that different shampoo on her again. And if the exclamation points over her head were any indication, she was in an exceptionally good mood. There could be only one explanation.

Not to get needlessly detailed, but the new shampoo—a brand called Bilien—was pretty popular among the cool kids back in junior high. It felt like a massive billboard that read I ONLY DATE COOL GUYS, NOT LOSERS! Naturally, this made me even more depressed. Not that I had any right to be, but still.

If I’d had even an ounce of courage, I could have spoken up the last time Miki-san asked us if we noticed anything different about her. At the time, Zuka had replied “Did you gain weight?” only to promptly receive a punch to the gut, but after that, I could have casually pointed out that she changed shampoos. But I didn’t have that courage, and maybe I never would.

Instead, like a total loser, I spent the whole week having had just one small, weird, and entirely unrelated exchange with Miki-san:

“Morning! Don’t forget to take vitamins. You don’t want to wind up with a nasty summer cold.”

“Oh, uh, right. Thanks.”

I didn’t know why she felt the need to give me this advice unprompted, but it was another Bilien day, so I figured maybe she just liked to mother people when she was in a good mood.

Then it happened a third time. She had now used Bilien shampoo on three separate occasions. Once again, she tried to wheedle an answer out of Zuka, but he was clueless, and I couldn’t say a thing. Meanwhile, midterms were now just two weeks away…but I couldn’t bring myself to study.

Ideally, I would shrug it off and say to myself, Eh, I’ll just make up for it tomorrow. But from that day forward, Miki-san started to use Bilien more and more frequently. The first and second occurrences were a full week apart, while the second and third were five days apart. The fourth was three days after that, the Thursday before last. Then the fifth was that Sunday, when I happened to encounter her at the corner store near my house. Then it happened again on Tuesday and again on both Thursday and Friday—twice in a row. It felt like I was slowly watching her move in with her boyfriend, and I was so crushed that I could tell I was probably going to bomb my midterms.

“What’s the matter with you? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Not once had Zuka even come close to noticing the shampoo situation. Every time Miki-san used Bilien, she hounded him all over again: “Something’s different about me, isn’t it? You can tell, right? Just say yes!” And today, Friday, his response was: “Well, your shoes are falling apart.”

Technically he was right, since she had a giant hole in one of them, but according to her, she had left it like that on purpose to show off her “cute new socks.” Ultimately, this was not the answer she was looking for, and thus it put her in a bad mood.

To be fair, you wouldn’t normally notice the smell of someone’s shampoo unless you were uncomfortably close to them…or you were paying a lot of attention…or you had some sentimental attachment to the scent itself. But as much as I would have liked to stand up for my friend, I wasn’t brave enough to say anything to Miki-san directly, so instead I said it to Zuka. Maybe this way he’d stop putting her in a bad mood all the time.

That Friday, Miki-san was standing in the hall, chatting with a group of friends.

“Ugh, you never want to hang out with us anymore! Did you find yourself a boy toy or what?”

“Ha ha!”

As we walked past them, I turned to Zuka. “Is there something different about Miki-san lately?”

“Heck if I know. She’s so psycho, she probably expects me to read her mind to find out what new fad she’s gotten into.”

He and Miki-san were both on the same track team during junior high, and as such, he didn’t bother mincing words.

“That’d be ridiculous, even for her,” I said. “Maybe she got a new perfume or something.”

“Come to think of it, I noticed she really smells like some kind of shampoo lately. But even so, why bother telling us about it, y’know?”

An exclamation mark must have appeared over my head, because I had no idea he’d actually noticed the shampoo smell. But Zuka interpreted my surprise a bit differently.

“Relax! I’m not the kind of weirdo who goes around sniffing girls!”

The words felt like a bullet to the heart.

“I just noticed it when she walked by, that’s all. Actually…now that I think about it, it smelled like that stuff we used to have in the locker room showers back in junior high. Remember? Bilien?”

I did, in fact, remember. Only the cool kids were brave enough to wear something with such an overpowering scent.

“Man, I regret ever using that crap. Just ’cuz my face is on the girly side, people started thinking I was actually a girl. Anyway, I’m not saying it smells bad or anything, and I get why she might wanna take a walk down memory lane, but…why does she keep hassling me? She’s nuts, man.”

Granted, he had a point. Surely no normal person would walk up to their platonic male friends and expect them to notice their shampoo. But this confirmed for me two things: one, that I had no idea what else could possibly be different about her, and two, she had indeed changed her shampoo. Nothing about the situation had been resolved. I didn’t even know what a successful resolution would look like at this point.

And so I wasted my time feeling sick to my stomach as the final weekend before midterms rolled around at last.

 

Monday: the first day of midterms week. Everyone was struggling to a certain degree, and I myself was definitely supposed to be doing my best not to fail, but Miki-san still smelled like Bilien, and first period was my worst subject (biology), so suffice to say I wasn’t off to the greatest start. After second period, I was ready to drop. Naturally, this prompted Zuka to check on me again.

“I mean, I guess I’m hanging in there? Anybody would be ready to pass out if they had to take a test in their two worst subjects back-to-back.”

“For sure, man. And the next one’s math, so you and me are totally boned. Oh, and Mickey, too.”

As Miki-san walked past, Zuka dragged her unceremoniously into the conversation. I expected her to lash out at him with some sort of punctuation over her head, but instead, she blinked at him and smirked. Then she walked over to her other friends.

“Hey, Looney!”

As a side note, “Looney” wasn’t actually the girl’s name—it was a nickname, short for “lunatic.” And since Miki-san apparently had no qualms giving someone this nickname, maybe she had a few screws loose herself, like Zuka always said. Personally, I felt it was proof that she was unique and creative, but evidently, I wasn’t the only one attracted to that side of her… This train of thought was not going to help me do well on my math test.

Before the bell could ring, the teacher walked in, and we all returned to our desks. Only one was empty: the one directly beside me. Idly, I wondered what Miyazato-san’s grades were like. If she got held back a year, wouldn’t that only make it harder for her to come back to school? Was she going to drop out? What sort of future would she have then? To me, she was just the girl who used to sit next to me, and yet my chest ached for her. Okay, maybe she was more than that, but still.

The blank test papers passed from student to student, making their way down the rows of desks. And right as I was about to lose myself in thought, as if waiting for the opportune moment to startle me, the bell rang.

Not long after, I discovered why Miki-san had smirked at us. A few minutes into the math test, when the room was peppered with question marks and ellipses fading in and out, I was surprised to see her head dotted with exclamation points—so many that they blocked my view of the other symbols around her. As I watched in confusion, she suddenly thrust both fists into the air victoriously. Naturally, the teacher told her off for that.

The Miki-san I knew was terrible at math, so she must have studied pretty hard this time. Maybe she had correctly predicted what was going to be on the test. That extra confidence would certainly explain the smirk from earlier.

Seeing her happy made me happy, too. But I couldn’t keep watching her all day long. I had other things to be worrying about at the moment…like my test score.

 

Perhaps the best word to use in this instance was “destroyed.” Destroyed, decimated, torn to shreds. All the knowledge and concentration I thought I’d gained through studying had slipped away from me like sand through my fingers. Every time I tried to focus on a math problem, my brain started wondering if Miki-san’s boyfriend had given her some private tutoring lessons. And once my brain thought of something horrible, it liked to hold onto it, tormenting me throughout the test, all the way to fourth period.

This was a serious problem. No matter how worried I was, I couldn’t let it affect my schoolwork, or I’d end up retaking this same test with Miyazato-san next year.

Normally this was the part where I’d watch Zuka pull on his perfectly polished sneakers (believe it or not, he was actually something of a neat freak) and head off to the track team clubroom while I packed up to head home. Today, however, I was occupied with…well, a lot of things, honestly, but mostly concern for my academic success. Thus, I decided to stay behind in the school library and do some extra studying.

When I arrived, the library was mostly empty; I sat down at a four-seater table near the windows, where I could see the athletic field. The sports teams weren’t scheduled to have practice during midterms week, but nevertheless, dozens of students were outside running laps on their own, Zuka included. The exercise probably made them feel good and helped to clear their minds after all those stressful tests. I could see exclamation points popping up over their heads, one after another.

As for me, I decided to work just as hard by focusing on my studies. Key word: decided. Unfortunately, once my concentration was broken, it proved difficult to regain. You know, like trust or whatever…I assume. In the end, I spent my time trying to memorize a handful of English vocab words while watching Zuka run laps, with the occasional bathroom break here and there. But the next thing I knew, tragically, I had dozed off.

Of course, I only realized this after I woke up—but I guess you probably figured as much. I opened my eyes, found myself slumped over the table, and my next thought was: oh crap. Timidly, I raised my head. Sure enough, the library was dead silent. Reflexively, I let out a heavy sigh.

But that sigh stirred the air…and I caught a hint of a familiar scent. Then I sensed a presence—or breathing, or body heat—and looked at the chair next to me.

“Whoa!”

I yelped like I’d forgotten I was in a library. This apparently woke her—at least, I think it woke her, because she was slumped over the table just like I was, so she must have been sleeping, right? Anyway, she lifted her head and looked at me. I stared back, stunned.

“Hey.”

That’s all you have to say?! The thought that I had inadvertently slept next to Miki-san made my face burn up like a furnace. Meanwhile, she rubbed her eyes.

“Man, I’m sleepy…”

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Huh? Oh, right. I had something I wanted to tell you.”

Like WHAT? As I braced myself, I saw an ellipsis rise up over her head. She turned and faced forward, then glanced back at me out of the corner of her eye.

“This is a message for Zuka—I mean, Oozuka-kun: Keep acting like that and you’ll drive all the girls away.”

Why did she phrase it like that? Regardless, my only option was to nod. “Sure, I’ll…let him know…?”

“Well, see ya!”

With my confirmation, Miki-san jumped to her feet and hurried off.

“She’s crazy…”

The words left my lips in spite of myself.

That night, I couldn’t sleep a wink. My mind was filled with the smell of her shampoo and the sight of her brand-new shoes walking away from me.

 

I didn’t know if yesterday’s event had been a shock to my system or what, but Tuesday’s tests went much better than Monday’s. In first period, one of the test questions was about the difference between “thee” and “thou,” and since Miki-san had answered this question in class, I remembered the answer easily. Plus, the English test was focused less on vocab (which I sucked at) and more on reading comprehension, and I was fairly confident that I did well.

But no matter how many test problems I solved, I still couldn’t solve the mystery of what happened with Miki-san yesterday. She seemed in better spirits this morning, at the very least, because she greeted me with a smile. But when she asked “How are you?” in English, I once again replied with the world’s most boring answer: “I’m fine, thank you.” The mystery deepened with her smile.

Once again, she smelled like Bilien, which made me wonder if maybe her boyfriend had cheered her up. Needless to say, it was a depressing thought. And needless to say, Zuka checked in on me again, because he was a good guy.

“You okay? Sleep deprived or something?”

“Yeah, I was studying. Aren’t you proud of me?” I lied as we sat in the cafeteria after school and ate our food together.

“Hell yeah, I am! I went straight to sleep!” he replied, laughing. He was the honest type, so I could trust him not to read too much into anything.

“Hey, so, did anything happen with you and Miki-san yesterday?”

“Huh? Mickey? What about her?”

“I bumped into her on my way home yesterday, and she was acting weird.”

“So? She’s always acting weird. You know she asked me that same question again today? Like, dude, I don’t care if something’s different!”

He laughed again.

“No, I mean…she seemed kinda pissed.” I casually left out the part where I found her sleeping next to me.

“Really? Well, I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. She’s nuts, anyway.”

“I mean, yeah, but…” Admittedly, this wasn’t the nicest way to talk about a friend.

Zuka never bothered to think too hard about Miki-san, proof that they’d established a foundation of trust over all the years they’d known each other, and at times, I deeply envied that. But while his utter lack of curiosity was generally something I appreciated, today I was kind of hoping for a hint that could lead to a resolution. That was how strongly Miki-san affected me as of late. But this was my downfall, and I foolishly pressed on.

“Normally she’s always so happy-go-lucky, so I’m kinda worried.”

“Really? If you ask me, she yells and cries all the damn time. This one time in junior high, she drop-kicked me for no reason!”

“Wow, I wish I could’ve seen that. I mean, uh…maybe she got in a fight with her boyfriend or something?”

“Well, aren’t you a saint! But for the record, no, Mickey doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“What?!”

I flinched so hard, my chair clattered against the floor, and my voice even went up an octave. Too bad I couldn’t see my own punctuation, because it was probably an exclamation point the size of a building. But that surprise only lasted a few moments before a warm, fuzzy feeling washed over me. Evidently my body and mind were more directly linked than I thought; my skin seemed to tingle, like all my worries were melting away. Reflexively, I let out a sigh of relief.

Oh, thank God.

But even if she didn’t have one at the moment, it was going to happen sooner or later—or maybe she’d had one at some point in the past. And even if she was single at the moment, I didn’t see it as my big chance or anything. But still…what a massive relief it was.

Then, as the aforementioned relief slowly faded, I remembered the friend sitting right across the table from me. I could only imagine what sort of expression my face must have made, because Zuka was staring back at me in wide-eyed shock, like I was some kind of zoo animal. A handful of question marks floated overhead.

But it wasn’t until those question marks started to morph into exclamation points and ellipses that I realized the gravity of my error. And I wasn’t overthinking it, either. Slowly but surely, Zuka’s expression shifted from surprise to a smile, growing bigger and bigger with each passing second until he was grinning from ear to ear.

Oh crap.

“Z-Zuka?”

“Bro…dude…dude! Bro!”

Evidently, Zuka had transformed into a Dudebro who could only speak Dudebro-ese. Then he reached out with his long arms and clapped me on the shoulder. He seemed downright delighted, almost like he’d found out his one-sided crush was mutual or something.

If only he’d teased me or made fun of me, I could have denied it. But instead he accepted it with enthusiasm, and so I was rendered unable to fight it. Still, I had no plans to confirm it as fact.

“Man…wow. Wow, man!”

Floating over this Dudebro-turned-Wowman’s head was a veritable mountain of ellipses and exclamation marks—surprise and acceptance, piled high.

“Dude, listen. I know for a fact that she’s single, because Looney told me herself. Apparently, she had the same idea, so she asked Mickey about it, but she totally denied it. Well, newsflash, Mickey! You can mock me about my ex all you want, but we’ll see who has the last laugh now! I had to bribe Looney with ice cream to get it out of her!” Having transformed back into an ordinary Earthling, Zuka launched into an explanation I never asked for.

“Shame you couldn’t get your money’s worth.”

“Fine by me! I mean, it was worth at least a hundred ice creams for you, eh?”

He grinned playfully. He nearly had me swooning, and I’m a guy.

Now that Zuka knew about my feelings, I had a sense he would prove to be a useful source of information. Whether I would be happy to hear said information was a different story, however.

“Hey, guys. Oozuka-kun, you’ve got a bit of green onion on your cheek. Y’know, you two make a cute couple.”

“Thanks, Looney! But if you can’t comprehend our manly friendship, then get outta here!”

From there, Zuka continued to smile to himself—all throughout his interactions with other classmates, and even while he was eating his ice cream. And seeing him smile made me smile, too.

As we finished our dessert, I could tell my head was going to explode from the embarrassment of Zuka discovering my crush on Miki-san. I announced that I was going to go study in the library, knowing that he would then decide to go run more laps. Sure enough, I was right. I felt bad, since I was technically ditching him on purpose, but I needed a little time to organize my thoughts.

And so, parting ways with Zuka and his perpetual smile, I headed to the library, same as yesterday. Once I was alone, however, the condensed shame overwhelmed me all at once…and in the end, instead of studying, I spent the whole time screaming internally. But the tingly sensation I felt was not altogether unpleasant, and so my sleep-deprived brain finally drifted off into the darkness…

Once again, I awoke right before the library closed. And while I had unmistakably wasted my time, I still somehow felt accomplished. But it wasn’t until I was already on my way home that I realized: none of the mysteries had been solved at all. Why was Miki-san switching her shampoo? And why was she hassling Zuka about it?

 

Apparently, Miyazato-san came to school yesterday. Everyone in class was talking about it. Personally, I was relieved to hear that she showed up for midterms, even if she had to take them in a separate room. As for Zuka, he was still in a good mood from yesterday. By contrast, Miki-san didn’t seem too happy—was she having a bad day? The other girls invited her to go get ice cream after school, but she didn’t even respond. An ellipsis flashed ceaselessly over her head.

I wasn’t stupid enough to approach a girl while she was in a bad mood. Instead, I was planning to spend the day hiding behind Zuka’s considerable height. But once again, she came over to ask her question.

“Zuka, haven’t you been wondering about me lately?”

“No, I haven’t!” he shot back emphatically. Maybe yesterday’s events had gotten him worked up. In response, she glared at him—and then she glared at me, too. I hastily averted my eyes, but Zuka just laughed.

Why did she keep asking us about it? Neither of us had a clue, so her hints were falling on deaf ears. Was it safe to ask her about the shampoo, even just once?

No, no, no. Trust me, it’s only going to make her think I’m a creep. Remember what happened last time?

Her bad mood lingered all day long, right to the very end of the final test. I had watched a handful of classmates tentatively approach her one after another, only to get shot down, and for the first time in who knows how long, I was grateful for my punctuation powers.

After we had finished our four tests of the day, we were officially done with midterms week. The instant the bell rang, I could practically feel the claustrophobic air rush out of the room. Exclamation points and ellipses popped up over everyone’s heads, and I was relieved, too. Granted, I still had makeup classes to attend next week, so it wasn’t like summer break started today or anything. But makeup classes were like the bonus tracks on a CD—you weren’t expected to go out of your way to listen to them. They were so low-pressure, even Miyazato-san would probably feel comfortable attending.

As I contemplated this, cleaning time flew by in a blink, followed by homeroom. And factoring in the time our teachers needed to grade all the tests, plus the weekend, we had earned ourselves a four-day mini-vacation.

“I’m gonna be doing nothing but club practice the whole weekend… You going straight home?”

“Oh, gotcha. Yeah, I’m thinking I might go to the music store and see if they’re selling the new mini-album ahead of its release date.”

“Lucky! If you buy it, you gotta let me borrow it.”

After our ordinary teenage conversation, I parted ways with Zuka and left campus without speaking to grumpy Miki-san. Or Miyazato-san, if she was here somewhere.

When I got home, I changed into a T-shirt and jeans, then walked for approximately twenty minutes to the combination book and music store. Inside, the air conditioning was cranked up to full blast, to the point that it was actually a little too cold. Even the sales clerk had to wear a hoodie, and judging from the ellipsis flashing over his head, he wasn’t happy about it. Maybe a customer had filed a complaint about the store being too hot.

I glanced at the bookshelves out of the corner of my eye and then made my way to the second floor where they stocked the CDs. Sure enough, with a little searching, I soon found what I was looking for. I was already planning to buy it, but I couldn’t wait that long—I put on the listening kiosk headphones and started the sample preview right away. This music was the one thing Zuka and I had in common.

We’d become friends at the start of our first year, when the seating arrangement had randomly put us next to each other. One day, he noticed my earbuds dangling out of my pocket, and with his signature Zuka smile, asked me what I liked to listen to. Tall and tanned, he was clearly nothing like me…but thanks to that smile, I found I wasn’t intimidated by him.

In a way, it was strange to think that my favorite band was the catalyst for our entire friendship. But when I thought about the way he seemed to revel in our boyish, uncomplicated rapport, I couldn’t help but smile… Then I noticed a woman in a business suit looking at me with a question mark over her head. When our eyes met, it transformed into an exclamation point, and she hastily averted her gaze.

Ugh, kill me.

I made it through the first three songs, then put the headphones back in the display case and picked up the CD. But right as I was planning to head for the register, I came to a stop. I could hear familiar voices coming from the other side of the shelf.

The shelf was taller than me, so I couldn’t see their faces, but I could hear their conversation loud and clear…and I could see a question mark floating in mid-air.

As I listened, I realized: it was two girls from our class. One of them was Kuroda-san, or “Looney,” as everyone else called her, but I chose to address her by her actual name. I didn’t have any particular reason for this; it was how I referred to just about everyone, save for Zuka. Now that I thought about it, Looney generally referred to everyone by their actual names, too. Even the people she was close to, like Zuka and Miki-san.

Truth be told, I didn’t really need to hide. I wasn’t that socially awkward; I could have walked right out and said hi to them, especially since Looney was the outgoing type who was nice to everyone. The reason I was rooted to the spot was their topic of conversation.

“What’s going on with Mickey lately?” the other girl asked.

An exclamation point popped over Looney’s head, and she chuckled. “I bet you think Miki-chan’s got a boyfriend, don’t you? Well, apparently not.”

“Then what’s the story?”

A cluster of exclamation points sprouted over Looney’s head to join the first. “Heh heh! This is top secret info. Can you keep a secret?”

“Hmmm… I might be willing to spill the beans if somebody bribed me with like, three pints of Häagen-Dazs.”

“Sounds like I can trust you, then!”

Are all of Miki-san’s friends total weirdos? I wondered idly as I listened for this top-secret info. I knew it wasn’t cool to eavesdrop, but my body refused to budge. So in the end, I guess you could say I had no one to blame but myself.

“So here’s the thing,” Looney continued without bothering to lower her voice.

“Yeah?”

“Apparently Miki-chan’s interested in Oozuka-kun.”

Oh.

That was the last name I expected to hear. I struggled to keep my knees from giving out. Meanwhile, a big exclamation point popped up over the other girl’s head.

“Wow, really? That’s awesome! They’d be so cute together! Wait a minute… Is that why she keeps going over to talk to him constantly?”

“Yep! Not sure what exactly they talk about, though.”

Now I get it.

With this added context, Miki-san’s recent behavior now made total sense. That was why she kept striking up conversations with us—she was intentionally trying to waft that Bilien smell around, since she knew her crush liked the scent. That would explain why she got so frustrated every time it didn’t work.

Now I could see the meaning behind that comment she made at the library, too. And it explained why she got new shoes after Zuka commented on the old ones.

I felt like I was on the verge of passing out. So instead, I gave up trying to buy my CD and hurried out of the store.

Sorry, Zuka, but I just can’t take it.

Not to suggest that I was stupid enough to think I actually had a chance with her, but still… His gleeful smile floated to the forefront of my mind. How was I going to break the news to him?

No offense, but I don’t think ice cream is enough to get her to spill the beans on this one.

Despite having finished my midterms, I remained unable to sleep for the next three nights following this revelation.

 

By Sunday, the last day of my four-day weekend, I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to face Miki-san or Zuka. Instead of answering the email he sent me, I lay perfectly still on my bed. What if I flat-out told him what I’d heard the other day? What would he say?

I deleted my half-written reply and closed my eyes. I pictured Miki-san’s bright smile…the scent of Bilien…her clean white shoes… My mind refused to stop agonizing over it. But thinking about it wasn’t going to solve anything—I needed to take action. Yes, it had taken me three full days to reach this conclusion.

So I got dressed, went outside, and started getting my exercise for the day. My feet carried me back to the book and music store, eager for a rematch. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything, of course, and it was possible Zuka had already bought the CD himself by this point, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

Fortunately, Miki-san never went to this store, and Zuka was probably still busy with club practice. There were two different high school supply stores, one on the east side and one on the west side, and everyone generally stuck to their local store. Miki-san lived on the east side, while Looney, Zuka, Miyazato-san, and myself all lived on the west side. So there was no chance that someone from the east side would come all the way out here—or so I thought.

Then I remembered the time I ran into her at my local corner store, and I put two and two together.

Speak of the devil, and she will appear.

The store’s automatic doors slid open, and someone walked out, accompanied by a gust of cold air.

“Wh-wh-whoa!”

Miki-san jumped backwards, exclamation point flashing overhead. A royal blue bookstore bag dangled from her hand. My heart thumped in my chest. I was so thrown off rhythm, I tripped over my tongue even more than usual.

“Good, uh, g-g-good m-morning…”

“Ha ha! What’s wrong? Did I scare you?”

Says the girl who nearly jumped out of her skin. But she deigned to ignore this and teased me instead, complete with her signature nasally laugh.

“Uh, yeah, totally,” I replied. As I nodded, I caught a glimpse of her pristine white sneakers. I could smell a faint whiff of Bilien mixed in with the store’s air conditioning.

Ah. Now I get it.

An exclamation point popped over her head. “Are you here to look at CDs? Zuka told me there’s a new one coming out or something.”

His smile flashed through my mind.

“Yeah. Wh-what about you? What brings you all the way to the west side?”

“Oh, uh…”

“Meeting up with…K-Kuroda-san? Or…Zuka, maybe?”

The words left my lips before I could stop them. Normally I’d never ask prying questions—I didn’t have the guts. But I wanted to know the truth behind Kuroda-san’s “top secret info,” even if it meant I might get hurt.

An interrobang rose up over her head. She wasn’t confused; she was struggling to think of an answer.

“Uhhh, well…um… First, let’s go back inside! We’re letting all the cold air out.”

She was obviously trying to change the subject, but her expression still matched her punctuation, and her uncertainty was palpable. She simply wasn’t the lying type.

I recognized the thrill in her eyes—the mixed fear and excitement of getting caught.

I took five steps forward and heard the automatic doors shut behind me. It was the weekend, so the store was packed. On a whim, we moved to the area with the least amount of traffic: the corner spot by the entrance with all the capsule toy vending machines. It was a cramped little nook, and the close proximity made my heart flutter. Meanwhile, Miki-san didn’t speak a word, and I was terrified to think she might hear the thumping in my chest.

My chance had come, and due to a mix of sleep deprivation and extreme tension and probably some other stuff, believe it or not, I actually went for it. My first move, in terms of pro wrestling, was to throw her into the ring ropes.

“So, uh, M-Miki-san…”

“Hmm?” A question mark appeared overhead.

“Is…is something…going on with you…lately?”

Her question mark changed to an exclamation point. Was she simply surprised? Or was she a tiny bit happy, too? If so…then perhaps I had nothing to be afraid of. Perhaps it was safe to speak my mind. Perhaps everyone else had figured it out a long time ago and I just never knew until now.

“Say, um…”

“Yeah?”

Then, at last, I asked her: “You’ve been using a different shampoo, right?”

A giant exclamation point popped up over her head. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at me, joy written all over her face. But I couldn’t bear to look at her for a single second longer. I was afraid of what might be written on my face.

Unfortunately, Miki-san was the type to take my plans and drop-kick them into outer space. Luckily for me, however, today she was feeling a tiny bit more generous than usual. She grabbed me by the shoulders and gazed at me, point-blank. I froze, staring back at her like a deer in the headlights of a speeding semi-truck.

Her cheeks looked faintly flushed—was it from the excitement? As for me, I was pretty sure my whole face looked like a tomato. Her long eyelashes fluttered mere inches from mine.

“Well?” she demanded.

“…Huh?”

“Don’t you have…something else to say?”

Something else? Like what?

I mean…I could think of one thing, sure. Normally I’d never be able to say it, but…if I told myself I might never get a second chance, maybe I could…let it slip…

Meanwhile, Miki-san waited patiently for my something else, her passionate emotions flashing just overhead. Then something inside me snapped. If it was a war of attrition, then I had well and truly lost.

I just needed to say a few more words. Miki-san, I’m in love with…

“Mi…Mi…Mi…”

“Yeah?”

“Mi…Miyazato-san uses that same shampoo, doesn’t she?”

Figures. Of course I didn’t have the guts. How pathetic.

Words cannot express the amount of disappointment I felt toward myself in that moment. But unfortunately for me, I had chosen the exact wrong moment to hang my head in defeat…because the next thing I knew, Miki-san’s shoulder had slammed an uppercut into my chin.

I reeled backwards, and the ceiling came into view, followed by the biggest whiff of Bilien I had smelled thus far. That was when I realized that Miki-san had thrown her arms around me. My whole body throbbed.

“M-Miki-san! We’re in publ—”

But she refused to pull away.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH!” she shouted into my ear.

Uh…for what?

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I was so scared I was gonna run out of time!”

“Sorry, uh…what’s…?”

At this, she finally pulled her arms away from my neck. But she didn’t show even a tiny hint of embarrassment; instead, her eyes practically blazed with glee.

“Now Miyazato-chan can come back to school!”

“…M-Miyazato-san?”

My voice was breathy and trembling in the wake of her body heat.

“Yeah! See, she and I agreed that if I could find out for sure that you didn’t hate her, she’d come back to school! God, what a relief. I thought maybe your sinuses were too congested to smell anything, which is why I kept asking you about your health all the time, but I didn’t want to be too obvious. Was it too obvious?”

“Wait, wh-what? Wh-why would I hate Miyazato-san?”

“That’s what I want to know!”

Just like that, her expression shifted to a sharp glare. She was so wild and unpredictable, I couldn’t keep up. Sure, I could see her punctuation, but it didn’t help me parse her crazy mood swings.

“Remember when you complimented Miyazato-chan’s shampoo? Why did you get all distant after that?”

She took a step forward, so I took a step back.

“I’m gonna need a detailed explanation, mister! Ha ha!”

And with my back against the wall, Miki-san’s high-pitched laugh was suddenly a lot more intimidating.

 

Back in April, when Miyazato-san still sat next to me in class…

We were in the same class last year, too, so we were on pretty good terms. She was really, really quiet—one time, I dropped my eraser, and she struggled to get my attention for ten solid minutes. But she always responded when I spoke to her, and since we had to scoot in real close to each other to look at the monitor in the language lab, I figured it might be less awkward if I got to know her a bit more. Thus, I struck up all sorts of idle conversations with her.

One time, I noticed her shoes were spotless—so clean and white, they looked practically brand new—so naturally, I complimented them. In response, she told me that she had carefully cleaned those same shoes for years. That was the day I learned that she was so reserved, her sole hobby was cleaning her possessions. But in response to my praise, an exclamation point rose over her head, and she thanked me in a tiny voice.

This was the sort of decently close friendship we shared. And because I felt I could relate to her…I inadvertently crossed a line.

We were in the language lab, sitting side by side like always, looking at our English coursework on screen. I was still embarrassed to be in such close proximity with her, but I had gotten used to it somewhat. Then the teacher went into her office, and the students all started chatting with each other. That was the moment I smelled a fragrance I recognized. And without thinking, I asked:

“Oh, do you wash your hair with Bilien?”

A giant exclamation point shot up over her head. But I misinterpreted it as a sign of excitement.

“I remember it was really popular back in junior high. I always liked the smell.”

At the time, I was simply making conversation. But the reaction she had was much different from the one I was expecting.

All manner of punctuation flashed over her head, representing hesitation, displeasure, confusion, panic. Naturally, I reacted with confusion myself. Then tears sprang to her eyes, and she turned away from me in flat-out rejection.

From the bottom of my heart, I sincerely regretted crossing that line with her. So from then on, I made sure not to make any more personal comments. I exercised restraint on par with hers, carefully choosing my every word. Over time, the conversations slowly petered out between us until eventually we barely spoke at all. Then Golden Week rolled around, and Miyazato-san didn’t come back.

You see, that shampoo carried sentimental value for me, too, not just Zuka. That was how I noticed Miki-san using it. But after the day I offended Miyazato-san, I had vowed never to comment on a girl’s shampoo ever again.

“Ha ha! It alllll makes sense.”

We didn’t want to cause a scene in the store, so we had moved outside to the corner of the parking lot. There, Miki-san stared directly into my eyes as I explained my side of the story—barring the punctuation stuff, obviously.

“You’re both such total sweethearts,” she mused, though I didn’t understand why. “Both of you are too busy worrying about how the other feels! I’m telling you, sometimes there’s really no need to overthink these things. Try to be more like me and Looney! Oh, but if everyone acted like us, the world wouldn’t be so complicated anymore… It would probably stop functioning, huh? Ha ha!”

“…Okay, but…how is it that you needed me to smell your shampoo in order for Miyazato-san to come back to school…?”

At my question, Miki-san’s face lit up. Both her expression and her punctuation seemed to say: hooray, my turn!

“Well, you see, I was never good friends with her.”

Maybe she expected this to come as a huge revelation, but I wasn’t surprised in the least. When you spent forty hours a week stuck in the same room, these things became obvious whether you liked it or not. That being said, they didn’t actively dislike each other or anything like that. Human beings simply had the tendency to gravitate toward others like them and didn’t generally feel the need to speak to anyone outside that circle. I would normally never speak to Miki-san, so this conversation we were having was merely an exception to that rule, as was my friendship with Zuka. So yeah, I wasn’t surprised that she and Miyazato-san weren’t close.

“But lately, I’ve gotten to know her.”

This wasn’t a surprise to me, either. How else would Miki-san have learned all that stuff about me? She must have heard it all from Miyazato-san.

“I think it was about a month ago now—I was on my way home from Looney’s place when it started pouring down rain. But I hadn’t brought an umbrella, so I was running down the street in a panic when I spotted Miyazato-chan pulling laundry off the clothesline in her front yard. She was having a heck of a time, so obviously I ran over and helped her. But by then my uniform was soaked through, and one thing led to another, and I ended up spending the night at her house.”

I could only imagine the conflict and strife Miki-san’s version of events conveniently omitted. Bless your soul, Miyazato-san.

“It was super awkward at first, but I see a tough nut and I crack it, y’know? So I just kept being nice to her until she finally opened up to me. And do you know what she said when I asked her why she wasn’t coming to school?”

“Wh-what did she say?”

“She said you didn’t like her anymore, so she wasn’t going to come back until we got a new seating arrangement! God, I was so tempted to track down your house and clothesline you!”

I pictured Miyazato-san saying this and then pictured Miki-san running at me with her arm outstretched, and my brain started to scream.

“Look, it wasn’t my fault! I thought she hated me!”

“Yeah, and like I said, both of you need to stop worrying so much about other people! Miyazato-chan said you gave her a weird look when the topic of her shampoo came up. She thought you were making fun of her.”

“Wh-what? No, of course not!”

“Yeah, I know. But for some reason, the thought popped into her head.”

…Right. For ordinary people who couldn’t see any punctuation, it was impossible to know what other people were thinking. Why didn’t I ever stop to think about it from her point of view? Man, I’m such an ass.

“Hey now, don’t get all sad on me! Keep a smile on that face! Anyway, do you happen to know why Miyazato-chan thought you were making fun of her?”

Truth be told, there was one potential reason I could think of, but only someone like me or Miyazato-san would understand. No offense to Miki-san or Zuka, but they just wouldn’t get it. Hence, I shook my head.

“Darn.”

Like me, Miyazato-san was probably embarrassed to be caught copying the cool kids. That was probably why she thought I was mocking her. Her shyness wasn’t just a natural inclination toward being taciturn; there was an element of insecurity to it as well. And when I started policing myself, she interpreted it as me pulling away entirely.

“So anyway, I figured the solution would be to confirm that you didn’t actually hate her at all. But when I offered to ask you, for some reason Miyazato-chan was convinced that you’d never admit to me that you hated her.”

My face was so hot, it felt like it was going to explode. I thought back to the haiku we learned in Miki-san’s beloved classical studies class:

I vowed to myself

None would discover my love

But then they noticed.

 

“So I was like, Well, how am I supposed to ask him, then?! Because obviously I knew you didn’t hate her, right? You were just innocently commenting on her shampoo. So I decided to use it as a hint!” She reached up and patted her hair.

“Wait, but I thought you were going to clothesline me.”

“That part doesn’t matter! My point is, if you actually hated her, you wouldn’t have commented on it at all, am I right?”

I’m not sure about that, I thought to myself, but then I realized: Miki-san wasn’t the badmouthing type. If she had a problem with someone, she went right up to them and drop-kicked them.

“So I decided I’d use this shampoo to get you to talk about Miyazato-chan. And you did, which means I win.”

“Th-this isn’t a game, you know! Why didn’t you just ask Zuka to ask me?”

“What? No way! Miyazato-chan told me not to tell anyone! And besides, Zuka would’ve blabbed everything to you anyway since he loves you so much… Er, not to suggest I hate you or anything!”

I appreciated the friendly disclaimer, but at the same time, given everything I heard from Looney, it was kind of a “Huh?” moment.

“So yeah, since I couldn’t say anything to you directly, I had to wait until you were with Zuka to bring it up. But every time I tried to be subtle about it, he’d turn around and kill the conversation a second later!”

That was your idea of “subtle”? Impressive. Evidently even Miki-san didn’t have the guts to talk to her crush one-on-one. Wait, what?

“So I tried to create the same situation that happened with Miyazato-chan, but you didn’t notice at all! Then I almost lost my temper at the library that one time, but I still stuck to my guns. Remember? I didn’t say anything directly!”

So THAT’S what that was about… Wait, so when she said “You’ll drive all the girls away,” what she actually meant was…?

“I gotta be honest: I was never too good at this indirect communication stuff. So I asked Looney, like, how do I subtly express my feelings to someone who’s on my mind?”

…Huh?

“Wait, what? So when she said ‘interested,’ she didn’t mean romantically…?”

“When who said what?”

The words had slipped out unbidden, and I hastily fell silent. Fortunately, the mixture of disappointment and relief that had crawled up from the pit of my stomach didn’t make it past my lips.

Now I get it. I should’ve known. Good thing I didn’t make a giant ass of myself by asking her out. Instead, my shameful idiocy was kept safely locked away in my head. Of course, deep down, I was still devastated…but at the same time, a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

“Wait…Looney didn’t blab about it, did she? Ugh, I’ll kill her!”

The misunderstanding was so absurd, I couldn’t help but laugh. Then the rage faded from Miki-san’s face as an exclamation point sprang up in its place.

“Alrighty then! Guess I’ll take you to Miyazato-chan’s house!”

“Oh, gotcha… Wait, what? Right now?!”

I could picture a massive interrobang floating over my head. In response, Miki-san looked at me with a question mark.

“Huh? Yeah, right now. She’s been tutoring me for midterms, so I came here to buy her a magazine as a thank-you gift. I’m telling you, I totally aced the math test, and it’s all thanks to her! Everything we reviewed was on the test! Besides, not like you have any plans, right? Oh, wait, you were gonna buy a CD. Okay, you go take care of that, and I’ll wait here.”

You’ve gotta be kidding me. But I couldn’t argue with her, so instead I decided to go along with it. I was only going to be gone for five minutes tops, and yet she saw me off with a wave and a giant grin.

“Man, I’m so glad Miyazato-chan can have fun with us at school again!”

Floating over her head was a supersized exclamation point. She wasn’t lying, nor was she joking, nor was she just being polite. She sincerely meant every word.

She was weird, and crazy, and she kinda got my hopes up about some stuff that turned out to be a misunderstanding…but nevertheless, I was proud to be in love with her.

 

And yet the very next day, I was back to being sleepless and depressed.

“What’s the matter with you? Did you miss breakfast? Want mine?”

That morning, as I stared blankly into space, my kind and generous friend Zuka plopped down at the desk next to mine and offered me a pastry from the bag he was carrying.

“Nah, that’s okay. But just so you know, you can’t sit there anymore.”

“How come?”

Before I could answer, however, the classroom erupted in whispers.

“Guess who’s back, everybody? It’s Miyazato-chan!” Miki-san announced loudly as the two of them walked into the room. Miyazato-san stood behind her, looking very, very, very uncomfortable…but I could tell from the punctuation overhead that she wasn’t actually upset.

Before today, this sort of thing probably would have made her run for the hills, but today she allowed it. Why? Because she had grown to love Miki-san. I could relate to the feeling. People like me and Miyazato-san spent our whole lives fretting over other people, so you couldn’t help but admire people with the power to turn a blind eye to the small stuff. She was like the Sun and the North Wind combined; she could strip away a weary traveler’s sorrow and fear in seconds flat.

I looked at Zuka beside me. He was gazing at them with joy in his expression and his punctuation. Then he turned that smile in my direction. “I bet you feel better now, huh?”

Oh, Zuka, you truly are a saint.

It made sense, of course. Of course it made sense. But that didn’t mean I was ready to accept it. And so, once again, my mood soured.

Yesterday, when we went over to Miyazato-san’s house, she sat in stunned silence as Miki-san explained everything that happened. I apologized, and then Miyazato-san apologized, and right as we’d made it back to almost-friends or thereabouts, for some reason Miki-san suddenly decided she wanted to give Miyazato-san a nickname.

“What should it be? I feel like anything would work, but…I mean, people don’t call me ‘Mickey’ as a play on ‘Miki.’ It’s because Zuka said my laugh reminds him of some cartoon mouse.”

“Oh, I see,” Miyazato-san replied, quietly impressed. This must have encouraged Miki-san to keep going.

“That’s why I came up with the nickname ‘Zuka.’ See, right now he’s tall and handsome or whatever, but back in junior high, he could pretty much pass for a girl. So I was like ‘I bet you could be the first male member of the Takarazuka Revue!’ and from there, it got shortened to ‘Zuka.’ Whenever we meet someone new, they’re always like, ‘How did you get Zuka out of Takasaki Hirofumi?’ Ha ha!”

As usual, her laugh was nasally…and it was thanks to me that she was laughing at all. I was over the moon to have officially made friends with Miki-san and Miyazato-san.

“You and Zuka are super close, huh?”

“Well, we were in the same club for all those years, y’know? Feels like I can’t get away from him.”

But then Miyazato-san delivered the final blow in her small, meek, delicate, modest voice: “Oh, you’re not dating? I would have thought you were.”

Normally Miki-san would have protested like crazy, launching into a vicious tirade against Zuka. But instead her face flushed bright red, and she stared at the floor. “Yeah, right,” she muttered under her breath. And I didn’t need to look at her punctuation to know what that meant.

I get it.

But of course, I couldn’t say that out loud.

…Wait, what?! Seriously?!

As I screamed internally, I felt Miyazato-san tap me on the knee. I looked over, and for some reason, she did a little fist-pump in my direction. The only thing I could think of to take my mind off the situation was: Man, everyone who makes friends with Miki-san turns into a total weirdo.

Anyway, back to today. Zuka rose from the desk beside me. Then Miyazato-san slipped past Miki-san as she continued to make a scene and timidly headed over in our direction. And when she saw my face, her lips curled in a smile.

Don’t get me wrong—I was still depressed. But when I saw her expression and her punctuation, well…not to disregard the issue with Miki-san or anything, but…I decided to just be grateful that Miyazato-san had showed up at all.

“Good morning, Oozuka-kun.”

Accompanying her quiet voice was the faintest hint of Bilien.