Looking back…

2006/09/04 22:42

Autumn, two years ago.

I began a part-time job at an agency to which an acquaintance had introduced me.

According to him, the work was easy enough, and the pay was good for what I had to do.

Living as a student, I didn’t have the wherewithal to refuse the offer.

My first day of work.

Wearing an uncomfortable suit,

I headed to the desk at which I would be sitting.

Inside the office were several other people who had shown up to work before I arrived.

As I was mulling over how I ought to introduce myself,

a young woman slightly older than I was called out to me.

WORKER:

What’s wrong?

… Whoa, an older lady.

And she’s rather pretty.

I was nervous.

WORKER:	Oh, you’re the new boy who came in for temp work… Um, **, was it?
ME:	That’s me.
WORKER:	I see. You’re going to be working for me, then.
	I guess you can call me— yes, how about Y-ko?

And she smiled kindly at me.

ME:	Miss… Y-ko, then.

It’s kind of pathetic to admit,

but by this point,

I had probably fallen head over heels in love with her.

And so…

I began my temp job working for Y-ko—

Y-KO:	Guess what? I’m not letting you go home or get any sleep tonight…
ME:	Yes, I know. By the way…
Y-KO:	What?
ME:	Do we get overtime pay?
Y-KO:	This is voluntary overtime.
ME:	As I feared…

—We would share these conversations as we worked all night, composing documents.

Y-KO:	Hey, why do boys love girls with big boobs so much?
ME:	Don’t ask me…
Y-KO:	Well, I wish they wouldn’t leave those men’s magazines with the pinups lying around the break room.
ME:	Yeah, that’s kind of… uncalled for, isn’t it?
Y-KO:	Exactly. I wish they’d have some consideration for me and my tiny boobs. It hurts…
ME:	Don’t let it bother you. Personally, I value the overall aesthetic and beauty of the breast rather than the size.
Y-KO:	Okay, I know that I just described them as “tiny,” but you could be nice and deny it!
ME:	… Beauty over size is what I say.
Y-KO:	Don’t look away!!

—We would share these silly, pointless exchanges.

ME:	Wow, what is this place, Y-ko? It seems really fancy…
Y-KO:	Oh, don’t be so nervous. It’s just a restaurant.
ME:	I’ve never been to a restaurant that serves liquor before you get the food!
	Plus, I don’t know anything about elegant table manners!
Y-KO:	Don’t worry, let the nice lady show you how it’s done.
ME:	Y-you could have shown me before we came here!
Y-KO:	Ha-ha-ha! Your hands are trembling.
ME:	Don’t laugh at me…
	Anyway, how do you use these napkins?
Y-KO:	Don’t worry, I’ll give you a hands-on demonstration.
ME:	……
Y-KO:	… What’s with the furious blush?

—Sometimes she would even take me out for meals.

… As sad as it is to admit, I was so nervous that I don’t even remember how the food was.

Our relationship as friendly office worker and temp eventually ended,

on a late night with a stunning full moon, as we left work.

Y-KO:	Wow, what a beautiful moon.
ME:	It really is…
	Er, Y-ko?
Y-KO:	Hmm? What?
ME:	May I hold your hand?
Y-KO:	Huh?… My hand?

She seemed stunned for a moment.

ME:	Yes, your hand. May I?
Y-KO:	… All right.

She hesitantly offered her little hand.

Our fingers crossed and tangled tightly.

Y-KO:	… This makes me feel nervous.
ME:	Me, too.
Y-KO:	… Do you like holding hands?
ME:	Yes, I do.
Y-KO:	I see.
ME:	But more than that…

I stopped still.

She also came to a stop, one step behind me.

I turned around, and she looked up.

Our eyes met.

Y-KO:	… Hmm?
ME:	… I like you.
Y-KO:	… Huh?
ME:	May I kiss you?

I lifted my other hand to trace her cheek.

—She closed her eyes.

Several moments later,

after our lips broke contact, we looked into each other’s eyes again.

Y-KO:	… I just want to tell you one thing first.
ME:	… What is it?
Y-KO:	I’m an otaku. Is that okay with you?
ME:	… Huh?
Y-KO:	… Actually, in my case,
	I’m what’s known as a fujoshi… so… are you weirded out?
ME:	Uh, no. I’m just surprised. I would never have thought you were…
Y-KO:	Well, I keep it a secret from other people…
ME:	… So, what about it?
Y-KO:	Huh?
ME:	What’s the connection between me liking you,
	and the fact that you’re an otaku or a fujoshi or whatever?
Y-KO:	Um…
ME:	I like you a lot, and it has nothing to do with what you call yourself.

And it was true.

It didn’t matter to me whether she was an otaku or not.

Y-KO:	… Um, thanks.
ME:	Would you be my girlfriend?
Y-KO:	… Sure. I’d love to.

And that is how…

… Y-ko and I came to be a couple.

Later, I would be amazed at the amount of manga in her room.

I would attempt to put her idea for a Gundam SEED story into a novel.

I would be shocked by her words and actions on a consistent basis,

but we continue to live and love in a full and happy relationship.

Sometimes my friends ask,

“How come you talk so politely to her when the two of you are going out?”

I still speak in polite language when I converse with Y-ko.

I do have some good reasons, like the fact that she is older than me

and the fact that I first knew her as my boss at work.

But I think the biggest part is her fierce insistence that

“Polite speech is moe!!”

When my girlfriend is happy, I am happy.

However, Miss Y-ko…

When I first announced my attraction to you…

And you gave me that disclaimer…

But.

I’m still glad that I said I loved you anyway.

And I always will be.