Naw, See? I Totally Won! – Part 01
Naw, See? I Totally Won! – Part 01
Naw, See? I Totally Won! – Part 01
Thursday, October 5th. The school festival was already coming up this Saturday.
After school, zombie me always stayed in the classroom until the sun went down. Usually I was alone, or with Orito, who often had nothing better to do, or sometimes Tomonori from the neighboring class.
Lately, the classroom had been lively even after hours. Everyone was busy preparing for the festival.
“All right, Aikawa. We’re counting on you.”
“Sorry, I’ve got something else to do.”
“Eh, I don’t mind. I’m free anyway.”
At first, the students were fired up about making elaborate collages for decorations, but they lost interest quickly. In the end, they dumped everything on me—since I was always stuck at school late anyway—and went home early.
So there I was, making a flashy signboard for the yokai café by myself. Hiramatsu and Orito handled costumes, and Tomonori wasn’t even in this class.
That’s right. This was all me.
To be perfectly honest, it was a pain in the ass. I mean, seriously, just scribble shit in red paint and call it a day. Who cares? But once I started, I couldn’t back out.
Let me say it again: it was a pain in the ass.
The students who actually enjoyed making things wore cheerful smiles, chatting while keeping their hands busy.
“Aikawa!” a cheerful voice came my way.
Short-haired, hands on her hips, eyes full of energy and a playful grin. It was Tomonori.
“Sup, Tomonori. You’re in a good mood.”
“I got a cell phone!” She beamed, holding up the latest model. “Give me your number.”
I always thought cell phones were all the same, but seeing that shiny new model made me want one too.
“Sure. Did your parents buy it for you?”
Tomonori shook her head. “Nope. I got it issued to me so I can handle missions more smoothly.”
We swapped info with infrared, and I got her number.
“Got it, got it.” She hugged the phone to her chest, smiling like she couldn’t be happier.
“Aren’t you working on your class’s festival prep? You sure you’ve got time to hang around here?”
“Yup! Finished it already. Are you done with yours?” She leaned in to peek at my work, then let out a sympathetic “ah.”
Yeah, not even close to finished. And the festival was only two days away.
“Hey, Tomonori.”
“D-Don’t call me that! I’m a girl.”
“Why am I even making this thing?”
“Uh… for the sense of accomplishment? Like climbing a mountain, you know?”
“Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”
“Right? That whooo! feeling when you finish is like the Sega Saturn startup sound!”
“That’s the weirdest way to describe satisfaction I’ve ever heard.”
“C’mon, let’s make a signboard so awesome it feels like a massive solo home run.”
I must’ve looked really bored, because Tomonori flicked my forehead. Being a zombie, I didn’t feel pain, so I just rubbed the spot absentmindedly.
I knew what she meant to say: stop whining. And I got it.
“Let me see it,” I said.
“Oh?”
“You made a masterpiece, didn’t you?”
“Yeah! Over here, over here!”
She tugged my hand, bouncing around like a child. Did she even want to wait for me to stand up?
With a sigh, I let her pull me to the neighboring classroom, where another girl came running.
“Yuki! Where have you been?”
A girl with long, brown hair and flawless makeup—Kanami Mihara, Tomonori’s classmate and a member of the basketball team.
Tomonori’s class was going to display paintings. Everyone had brought paint sets and spread sheets of paper across their desks.
From what Tomonori had told me before, almost everyone in her class belonged to some club. Each club had its own project, so the class decided to showcase artwork collectively.
“Ta-da!” Tomonori pointed to her painting. The sun, the sea, and a sunflower filled the page. A bright picture that captured Tomonori’s essence.
“Looks like a kid painted it,” I said.
“I say it’s on brand for her.” Mihara stroked Tomonori’s head.
Glancing at Mihara’s face, Tomonori’s eyes suddenly sparkled, like an idea just struck her.
“Get this, Aikawa.” She grabbed my shoulder firmly.
What was it now?
“What?”
“You know Bruce Lee? Some foreigner totally messed up and called him Aoi-san!”
What kind of clearly fake trivia was that? Was she trying to say the English words blue and three meant aoi and san in Japanese?
Her curled lips seemed to say, I bet you didn’t know that.
“You make miso happy, is what you say to your husband,” she went on.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Amazing, right? Japanese is amazing!”
She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, as if praying to God. Why was she thanking God right now?
I glanced at Mihara. She was desperately holding back laughter.
So, she’s the one planting weird fake knowledge in Tomonori’s head.
Mihara burst out laughing. “I can’t! Yuki is just too adorable.”
“Tomonori. Sorry, but all that info was lies.”
“Huh? But Kanami said…”
Tomonori turned her eyes to Mihara, pure and innocent like a child’s.
“You’re so smart, Yuki. You actually remembered everything.”
Mihara was clearly mocking her.
“Did you know the term computer virus came from when someone sneezed on an early computer and it immediately stopped working? This one is true. R-Right?”
“That actually sounds believable, but no.”
Tomonori slumped.
“Sorry, Yuki. You’re so cute.”
Mihara hugged her tightly, still trying not to laugh.
“Seriously, why would you feed her nonsense?” I said.
“Because she said she wanted to tell you something interesting.”
Well, I talked with Tomonori every day, so she probably wanted some topic.
“She believes anything. It’s funny and cute.”
“Kanami, you dummy!” Tomonori raised her hands in protest. “What middle are you from, huh?!”
It’s middle school. And Mihara just kept grinning at her antics.
“By the way, Mihara, what are you painting?” I asked.
“Wanna see mine too?”
Mihara hugged herself, wiggling suggestively. It was annoying, so I decided to ignore her.
“Wait, look!” She grabbed my arm firmly. “You can check my everything!”
I couldn’t keep up with this kind of energy.
Her painting was a cityscape, like she was playing SimCity[1] from a god’s-eye view. It was very chaotic. Apparently, Wally was hidden somewhere in it.
“It’s really good, I guess.”
“Right? Right?”
Tomonori suddenly perked up. “Anderson’s work is insane by the way.”
In the corner, a handsome guy with ink and brush glanced over at us.
He was the tallest in our grade, with smooth hair, blue eyes. His name was Shimomura, but everyone called him Anderson because he looked so non-Japanese and good-looking. He was smudging his palette with ink.
Why ink and not paint? I went over to see what he was painting.
It was Maitreya,[2] with a hand on the cheek and one leg crossed. Wait, why the half-lotus position?
“The title’s The Thinker,” Anderson said.
“He’s definitely deep in thought, but if you’re going with that, there’s a more fitting statue.”[3]
“But it’s incredible, right?” Tomonori said.
“Yeah, it’s ridiculously well done.”
“Wait,” Mihara suddenly spoke up, noticing something.
“Hm?” I wasn’t sure what she meant.
“Where’s the loud one? You know, that spiky-haired guy.”
“Oh, Orito. Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him today. He was making costumes with Hiramatsu until yesterday.”
“If you’re looking for Orito, he’s been staring at you for a while now.” Tomonori pointed across the room.
What was Orito doing in this class?
“Whaaat?” Mihara shivered in disgust.
Sure enough, Orito was in front of a canvas holding a palette, staring at Mihara—specifically, at Mihara’s chest—with the bold look of a student of Otokojuku.[4]
What the fuck are you doing in Tomonori’s class? No wonder our class felt so quiet.
“Maybe he has a thing for her?” Anderson said with a straight face.
Tomonori’s eyes lit up. “Orito? Into Kanami? Seriously?! That’s huge! Yeah, those are totally the eyes of someone in love!”
Eyes of someone in love? More like eyes of a pervert.
Eager for the truth, Tomonori skipped straight to Orito, with us following behind.
“Wh-What is it?” Orito flinched.
Tomonori fired. “Do you like Kanami?”
“Whaaat?”
That was probably the best what Orito could ever utter.
“But you were staring at her the whole time.” Tomonori brought a hand to her mouth and snickered.
“What I was looking at… was her boobs!”
I knew it.
“Gross.” Mihara ducked behind Tomonori.
“But why Mihara’s?” Anderson asked.
Rude, but honestly, a good question. Mihara’s chest was pretty average, nothing you’d expect to catch Orito’s attention.
“You guys really don’t see it? She’s not wearing a bra.”
“Creep!” Mihara shrieked, dashed, and socked Orito’s shoulder.
“Guh! When you get to my level, you can see through the camisole under a uniform and tell whether there’s a strap or not.”
Impressive, I guess, but still.
“I’m wearing a bra top! The camisole has built-in cups, so it works the same as a bra,” Mihara explained, tugging at her clothes.
“Impossible! Humanity already invented something like that?” Anderson swallowed hard.
Why was he rattled?
“This is fraud! A scam!” Orito protested.
“Jump off a cliff,” Mihara said.
Was I in the minority for thinking bra tops had their own appeal?
“But doesn’t that still count as not wearing a bra?”
An unexpected double-cross from Tomonori!
“It’s got cups and pads in it.”
“That’s practically a bra, then!” Anderson scowled as if the world itself had betrayed him.
“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Mihara snapped.
“Thank… goodness. So no one’s… braless. I really thought… this was a national emergency. Turns out it was… only a trap for me. What a life it’s been!”
Stop! Don’t ruin my beloved Doctor Hiriluk’s last words![5]
1. SimCity is an open-ended city-building video game franchise originally designed by Will Wright.
2. Maitreya is a bodhisattva who is regarded as the future Buddha of this world in all schools of Buddhism.
3. The Thinker, by Auguste Rodin, is a bronze sculpture depicting a nude male figure of heroic size, seated on a large rock, leaning forward, his right elbow placed upon his left thigh, with the back of his right hand supporting his chin in a posture evocative of deep thought and contemplation. This universally recognized expression of “deep thought” has made the sculpture one of the most widely known artworks in the world.
4. Sakigake!! Otokojuku is a classic Japanese comedy martial arts manga and anime series written and illustrated by Akira Miyashita, serialized in Weekly Shōnen Jump from 1985 to 1991.
5. Dr. Hiriluk is a character from the Drum Island arc in One Piece, acting as a quack doctor, a former thief, and the father figure to Tony Tony Chopper.