Disclaimer: Nothing you can recognize belongs to me; and, this is merely fiction.
AN1: Hello! Some of you can remember me from Blissful. Now, I give another try with Imperfect Girlfriend.
Thanks to UnhappyHomicideExperience it's possible for me to bring you this story with less mistakes than this would have had. But, of course, you're allways free to tell something that we didn't see (specially those who speaks Spanish and English).
Imperfect girlfriend
by MissKaro
Chapter 1
Are all opportunities to be taken?
From his position on the other side of his father's desk in the study, Naoki Irie (or for his acquaintances "the genius"), watched his parent move uncomfortably, aware of the scrutiny to which he was subjected to. The young man, of course, received the same kind of response from many—with the exception of his mother, with unshakeable willpower—, as long as he watched them with his cold, empty purplish eyes, that not only made him attractive but unattainable for those around him.
Naturally, he was proud to be the reason of that shameful reactions in his fellow men, as feeling superior provided him with the only entertainment he had ever known. Seeing how others, even his elders, surrendered at his presence, gave him more power than his incomparable brain (possessor of an IQ of 200) allowed him to have. Surely no one was aware of that satisfaction, as cold as he was with everyone, but that was how he felt.
Nevertheless, a part of himself forced him to show an ounce of respect for his so-called superiors.
That made him stop scrutinizing his father and took a position that could almost be described as condescending, if another person and a different situation was talked about. Besides, he had grown tired of that silent exchange that had lasted no more than two minutes, and decided that he should express the matter of the meeting, originated from his request to his father to "speak alone" with him, followed by a gulp of the aforementioned.
"Father, I will not run your business," Naoki said briefly, not bracing himself, using that deep voice that many loved, regardless of how was the personality of the talker.
His father, Shigeki Irie, stood up as much as his cushioned chair allowed him and showed a hint of strong character, different from his kind personality, perhaps because it was a matter concerning Pandai, his beloved toy company, which he raised from its foundations many years ago, until turning it into the success that it was at the moment. His chubby face turned a reddish, anger-rimmed color, and his eyes flashed with anger for more than a tenth of a second (really an achievement).
"What did you just say, Naoki?" His father asked, not breathing, before removing his round glasses to wipe them with the edge of his shirt, a sign that he was trying to calm down.
The alluded one waited until the lenses returned to their original position, calm as allways, to answer: "I do not wish to continue the work of someone else."
His progenitor watched him with a bewildered and dismayed expression, probably beginning to understand, using his own logic, the ambition that his son might inherit from him.
Naoki didn't care what turns his head did to understand, he wasn't going to give explanations and talk more than he was used to. On many occasions, the ineptitude and slowness of those around him seemed unpleasant to him. As a child, before shutting in on himself and after understanding that no one would be able to reach his level, he shared with his mother his restlessness, and she told him to be patient with others and to comprehend that not everyone had his ability. But like now, he did not care much.
After that, unless it was a matter that required the understanding of others, he ceased to be concerned if they came to understand him in everything he talked about, and made his life as he pleased, at his own pace.
The current situation was a consideration of his part to his father, because first of all, he must be respectful and honorable with the family head.
"It is naive of me to believe that a genius like you would not want to show others what he is capable of," his father said, bringing his right hand to his chin in a pensive pose. "You would like to draw your own path, right?"
Being an explicit question, which didn't require words, he nodded. It could be said that way, although in truth—for his own frustration and bewilderment—he did not know exactly what the best road was. Everything he did was good at, with the exception of knowing what was going on for him after high school.
What he was sure of was that running a toy store, and following in his father's footsteps, was not something he would do in his future.
"I'm not going to lie to you and say that it does not sadden me and disappoint me, and if I get the chance I will not do my best to make you change your mind…" His father laughed briefly, as if he had remembered a joke. "But I think it's only fair that you want to do something for yourself, even if it is my competition. I want you to be happy. So… I'll have to accept what you say…"
With that last sentence, he took on a serious tone. Naoki only hoped that he would finish his monologue to excuse himself from the study, which, although on other occasions it served him to take books before finishing the repertoire, was now a place that no longer required his presence. He had already obtained his father's acceptance, or rather, the confirmation that he knew he couldn't put anymore hope in him or his responsibility to be in charge of the workplace for the rest of his life.
"…with a condition."
He, deep down, was surprised, even though his face did not show such emotion. He couldn't imagine what could his father suggest—and he couldn't fulfill—as an impediment to not reach the purpose of that meeting. It was true that it was more an announcement than a request, but the respect Naoki owed to his father would make him obey the order he had.
For a second he was proud of his, often thought, feeble father, by showing why he was a successful businessman, but that feeling vanished as soon as his next sentence left his lips:
"You'll have to introduce me to a girlfriend, that ensures me the continuation of our surname."
Something like rage filled Naoki's chest. Was otōsan trying to manipulate him? You didn't have to be a genius to tell he was asking him to look for a young woman, who would become (in the near future) his betrothed, a woman whom he approved of.
His father hoped that he, who had never shown any interest in women, let alone having a girlfriend, would put at stake his destiny for something as insignificant as maintaining a relationship.
Naoki saw no point in having a partner—though he liked women, as his family seemed to doubt—because he, by himself, could do a lot of things. If it happened that the sexual urgencies that dominated many arrived at him, there would be diverse ways of solving them (without implying to have someone long time to his side). The idea of being a father had never crossed his mind. And sharing time or experiences with another person did not have much importance.
"What?" He asked suddenly, noticing that his father's monologue included him.
Without realizing it, he had disengaged from the "conversation" and had not listened to what he said after his announcement.
His father cleared his throat, bothered to be heard. "I said one of my great desires is that you succeed me in the company, but if I cannot have that, I want another of my great desires to be fulfilled. To have a grandson."
"Yuuki," Naoki muttered parsimoniously.
"Eh, yes. Do not get me wrong, well, I do not think you can… I also want your brother's grandchildren. But if I cannot have my first-born as my successor, at least I want my first grandchild to be yours."
Sensitive man, Naoki thought with disgust. Sentimentalities like that were those that made him avoid using anything other than reasoning for life in general (it was also a reason to avoid a relationship).
"So… you think you can fulfill my condition?"
He thought for a moment and nodded, it would be easy to get a willing girl to be his girlfriend and future wife. Even though many might despise his personality, by fear or envy of him, there were many young women who would die for having him as a boyfriend. For example, he knew the existence of a group of followers.
Likewise, his genes were more than perfect to be given to a next generation. That was the reason people got together, right? And he would have a lot to contribute.
The now certainty of having children, which had never been seriously considered, brought him a strange feeling, which he ascribed to the likelihood that he might know someone with intelligence like his own.
He nodded slightly to his father.
"Will I be able to meet her soon?"
The thought of having to quickly catalog the young women he knew, to rule out the impossible candidates in order to get the suitable ones, was tiresome and annoying, but he imagined that two days, at most, would be enough for the task.
"Yes."
"It took you a little while to answer… is there already somebody in mind?" Her father inquired hesitantly, as if all previous courage had left him.
Not really, but he did not want to give the impression to his father that he would have a girlfriend just for his request, he would quickly realize that he was obliged, and wouldn't accept her.
And his father, of course, would refuse to accept her because he wanted his happiness, which couldn't come from the hand of a girlfriend whom he had gotten just to fulfill his condition.
"Yes," he replied, after another pause. "There is."
Someone must be.
His father seemed extremely surprised by his response and leaned toward him, just as the door opened with a loud noise.
"Yes!" His mother's exclamation surprised his father, while Naoki took it with annoyance. Already, he imagined her stuck like glue until he gave her the name of her daughter-in-law, or hanging around the school just to get a glimpse of the girl. Even insisting on taking her to dinner.
He would never have imagined that what he thought of as a simple meeting would eventually bring on annoying events.
"When can we meet your girlfriend, son?" His father asked, ignoring his mother's fanciful dance at his side.
"When she is ready," he answered without affirming or denying he already had one, so it would give him enough time to make the chosen one prepare to have all the data of their history together.
By all gods, he felt ridiculous just thinking about that phrase.
[...]
The following morning, after an afternoon irked by his mother's insistence, Naoki felt the tiredness creeping through every pore of his skin, with the possibility it would reach higher levels for the task ahead.
That same day he thought he would sort out the decision of his girlfriend and future wife, just to engage himself in more important things like what he would do from now, as his father finally agreedwith him not to be his successor. It upset him he would have to fulfill his stupid condition—he shouldn't be manipulated—but he owed his parents the support and the opportunities they brought him throughout his life.
Whoever was chosen, other than good looks and respectable education, he didn't care much. He simply wanted that she served to fulfill the condition of his father and that she was minimally suitable to be the wife of Naoki Irie.
Turning away from his routine of first passing the library, he went directly to his class, Class A, corresponding to the most outstanding youngsters of the generation. The system of his school classified by means of an examination to those who entered its classrooms, and the students with best results were located in Class A, the less better in B, C, and so on, until arriving to Class F, the worst of all, with no doubt.
If they scored higher in the end-of-course exams, it was possible to upgrade a group, but already in their last year he knew that few people had achieved such an achievement, but only generally from Class D to C, or Class C to B.
As he walked to his classroom, he checked the glances of admiration from the younger girls, thinking definitively she had to be someone of his age, for he did not want to deal with childish girls.
He didn't even know why he was watching them, if he wanted to choose someone he knew beforehand. And he was going to analyze them as they arrived to take class. As he attended early, he would stay in his seat and give, for the first time, a look of further recognition to his classmates.
A few paces from 3A, he spotted an unknown teenager approaching from the other direction, and he wondered if she belonged to his group, but dismissed it quickly after a look at her hair.
It could be said that he didn't take much into account to those who belong to his group, but he had never noticed a flash of the girl's hair color in the middle of the classroom. Having an eidetic memory, he didn't forget details like that. Her hair was a reddish brown rather than red-haired, a little orange, not like a pumpkin, but perhaps orange-red like a sunset, a little brighter than ordinary orange. Nor could it be said it was completely orange, only that he didn't have much to resemble the color of her hair.
The fact was, that he had not seen it in his group.
He turned his gaze from the red-haired girl and reached the door of his group, just at the exact moment he heard a soft and hesitant voice pronouncing his name: "Irie."
He paused for a moment, realizing that the owner of that voice was the girl he had just observed, who held in her hands a letter addressed to him. From the rosy cheeks of the redhead, he guessed what it was.
He rolled his eyes and prepared to reject her when he thought of his predicament.
The "I don't want it" didn't abandon his lips, but he surprised himself and those who watched him, taking the paper and responding in its place:
"Follow me."
[...]
Nice to meet you, Irie-kun. I am Aihara Kotoko from Class-F.
You do not know who I am, right? But, I know who you are.
For two years, I've admired you for your intelligence and coolness after you gave your entrance ceremony speech. I have no hope of being in the same class as you…
…so I write my feelings in this letter with all my heart.
Irie-kun, I love you.
Naoki didn't need to read the letter twice to learn its content. His head had already memorized each sentence written by the silent girl sitting next to him on a bench in front of the school library, which would have been attended by people if the exam season was close.
(And for those who wanted to spy on them, the fear caused by look of his sure made them not stay around for long.)
With no disguise, he watched the red-haired girl, who was looking downwards and moving her fingers in a gesture of nervousness, despite the fact that, with her legs together and her palms on her knees, she tried to give the image of composure of someone being punished.
He rejoiced to know that he had such power, while an attractive idea formed in his head.
The red-haired girl was not ugly, she was attractive in her own way, though she looked younger than him for many years, and he guessed that she was quite educated by the way she addressed him. That would be enough to convince his parents.
To Naoki, that she was from Class F seemed an advantage to him. Surely she was dumb, therefore, manipulative to his whim. He could handle her to fit his desires; it was to be hoped that, in order to please him, she would act in any way he wished. She would make the perfect girlfriend for his plans, though nowhere near to Irie Naoki.
He smiled sideways.
He liked that.
The perfect girlfriend for his plans.
Even if she belonged to the imbeciles of F.
Others might think whatever they wanted if he had a girlfriend in that class, and anyone but himself he gave explanations (and he didn't need them). As long as she was careful to make everything look normal, this girl would mold to his needs, and he would take care of himself.
And his parents, perhaps they might think she was very different from what they had expected from him, but once he told his mother the trite and ridiculous romantic argument of opposites attract, there would be no more worry.
"Kotoko," he called, feeling satisfied with his future plans.
She flinched; and, as he stared at the hazel-colored orbs of her, which seemed too expressive, he felt a twinge of something that made him pause for a moment to rethink what he was going to do.
But with his future in mind, he continued: "From now on, you'll be my girlfriend."
The stupefaction upon her face would remain forever engraved in his head.
And beyond admitting it, also the shy smile in her face.
AN2: Hi again!
What do you think?
From now on, we'll be reading small changes in Naoki. I'm trying to stay IC, but you know, with him, is difficult. Since I started writing, I had one idea, but this story writes itself, yeah.
Bisous, Karo