I'm sorry for the regurgitation of cannon. We will get off the beaten track eventually. Some things are just necessary.
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When we put Kamakura into the cardboard box, he tried touching it with his front paw. When he smoothed the ground three times, he purred contentedly as if to say, 'Heh… good enough.'
Now then, all we needed to do was wait for Kawasaki Saki's appearance. The problem was that we didn't know when she would turn up. The length of Hiratsuka‐sensei's lectures depended on her whims.
"Let's divide the duties," Yukinoshita proposed, taking charge. She made Totsuka lie in wait in front of the staffroom, while Yuigahama was stationed by the side of the bicycle parking area. Komachi was on patrol. And I was ordered to carry the cardboard box around and run around.
When you think about it, the others had their jobs, but I had nothing to do until Kawasaki Saki was spotted. While I was on standby, I fostered my great willpower and went off to buy a Sportop carton from the nearby vending machine. As I put my straw in and took one or two sips, I returned to my station.
"Meow." I heard Kamakura's familiar meowing.
"Meow." I heard a girl's unfamiliar meowing.
I checked my surroundings reflexively, but there was no other girl besides Yukinoshita in the vicinity. For now, I called out to the girl whose back was turned to me.
"…what are you doing?" I asked.
"What are you talking about?" Yukinoshita answered innocently.
"Nothing, just you were talking to the cat just now."
"More importantly, I'm quite certain I ordered you to be on standby, but it seems following a simple instruction is beyond your abilities. I took your level of incompetence into account, but honestly you have surpassed my calculations. I wonder how I can phrase my orders to make them simple enough for someone stupider than a grade schooler to understand."
Yukinoshita was fifty per cent colder than normal and her tone was ruthless. Her eyes were telling me that I was dead if I uttered another word.
"G‐got it. I'll go back to standby…"
As I slinked back to the bench I had been waiting at, my cell phone started buzzing. It was an unknown caller. Given the timing, it could only be Yuigahama or Komachi or Totsuka ‐ or perhaps Yukinoshita.
I knew Yuigahama and Komachi's numbers and there was no way Yukinoshita would give me a call after what happened just before.
…so that meant it was from Totsuka?!
"H‐hello?!"
"Oh, is this onii‐san? I asked for your number from Hikigaya‐san."
"I don't have a brother or a brother‐in‐law."
I ended the call right then and there, but another call came in no time. Even without seeing his face, I knew he was the persistent sort, so I gave in.
"Hey, why did you hang up?!"
"What do you want?" I asked.
"It's just that I heard about the cat and, well, nee‐chan has a cat allergy."
Silence. Our plan was screwed.
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?"
"Sorry, I only just heard."
"Geez, I get it, I get it. Thanks for filling us in. Later."
I snapped the phone shut once and for all and hurried to where Yukinoshita was. Yukinoshita was crouched in front of Kamakura and tickling Kamakura's neck. Kamakura was curling into a ball.
"Yukinoshita," I called out to her.
Yukinoshita let go of the cat all of a sudden and only glared at me with "What is it now?" written across her face. Geez, let it go already. The way she kept glaring at me would only make me remember what happened before.
"I just got a call from Taishi and it turns out Kawasaki has a cat allergy. So I don't reckon she'd pick the cat up even if we left it here."
"…huh. That's a spanner in the works," Yukinoshita said as she stroked Kamakura's head sadly in parting. Meow.
When I contacted the others to tell them that we'd given up, Yuigahama, Totsuka and Komachi returned.
"Onii‐chan, you got a call from Kawasaki‐kun?" Komachi asked.
"Er, yeah." Then I said, "Don't go giving phone numbers away to strangers. What if something dangerous happens? Be careful when you handle personal information."
"Hikigaya‐kun's personal details aren't such a big deal," Yukinoshita teased me, but only half‐jokingly.
"It's not for me, it's for Komachi. You hear me? Don't you give your number away lightly, okay? Especially to boys."
"No way, you saw right through me?" Komachi deflected my warning with a laugh. Well, my little sister was one of those 'spare me the details' types. That didn't stop her from being far superior to me at these sorts of things.
(Or rather, I was the one who had to catch up.)
Now that the animal therapy operation had failed, we had to come up with another plan. Not having a plan of my own, I looked to Yukinoshita. When I did, she looked at Komachi and me in turn and let out a soft sigh.
"…you get along well as siblings." She hesitated. "I'm somewhat jealous."
"Huh? Oh, people say that a lot when they're an only child. It's not such a great thing."
"No, I…" Yukinoshita trailed off, which was rare for her. Usually, she declared whatever was on her mind, even at the expense of hurting others. "No, never mind."
Had she eaten something bad, like one of Yuigahama's cookies or something?
"Now then, what are we gonna do? We gotta think of something."
"Er, uh…" Totsuka raised his hand timidly. He looked at both Yukinoshita and Yuigahama with an uncertain look in his eyes, as if he wanted to contribute something but wasn't sure how to go about it.
Go ahead and say it, I thought. Even if no one else would accept him, I would! For example, I would even accept this unacceptable love!
"Go ahead," said Yukinoshita. "I don't mind if you speak your mind. It would help us all out."
"Okay then… so um, how about you tell Hiratsuka‐sensei about it? I think she might be too close to her parents to tell them her problems. But if she were talking to another adult, she might be able to confide her problems, maybe?"
Oh, what a great call. Indeed, she might not be able to talk to her parents because they were her parents. For example, I would have absolutely no desire to talk to my parents about porn or romance. Also, I wouldn't tell them if I went to school and there was graffiti on my desk, or if there was rubbish in my shoe locker, or if I received a love letter and got worked up over it, only to find out it was a classmate's prank.
That's why a third party was necessary. A reliable person with an abundance of life experience might be able to pitch in and help.
"But Hiratsuka‐sensei, you say…" There was a worrying factor in there. Could you really call such a pitiful person an adult? The only thing that was adult about her was her chest.
"Compared to other teachers, Hiratsuka‐sensei is very in touch with her students," Yukinoshita declared. "There is no better person for the job."
"Oh, yeah, I guess." Just like Yukinoshita said, Hiratsuka‐sensei really did work hard in guiding her students. She directed students who were wrapped up in their worries to the Service Club, and on a daily level she connected with the students. She could probably do what we needed of her since she was highly observant and all. "Then I'll try contacting her."
I explained the gist of the Kawasaki Saki situation in my text message. Hiratsuka‐ sensei's phone address, which I had absolutely no use or desire for, had come in handy for once.
"That's about it. I told her we'll explain more at the entrance. Okay, that'll make her come." After I closed off the email, we waited for five minutes.
We heard the stiff sound of her heels scratching against the floor, signalling Hiratsuka‐sensei's appearance.
"Hikigaya, I understand the situation," she said with a serious face. "I'll hear out the details." She put out the cigarette she had been smoking on a portable ash tray.
I explained what we knew about Kawasaki Saki, as well as what we had surmised. Ms. Hiratsuka listened silently until I finished, upon which she let out a short, terse sigh.
"The fact that a student of our school is working at a part‐time job past midnight is a serious matter. We need to deal with this quickly before it escalates any further. I'll handle it." Hiratsuka‐sensei cackled in a rather unprofessional way. "What are you looking at? I let Kawasaki go just before I came here. And it took another two minutes to come here."
…what was this indescribable unease that come over me? Her entire manner reeked of schadenfreude.
"Um, you do know you're not allowed to punch or kick her?"
"Impossible… you do realise I only do that kind of thing to you?"
"No, that's not romantic at all."
As this was going on, Kawasaki Saki appeared at the entrance. She dragged her feet lazily and occasionally let out a wide yawn. She slung her schoolbag over her shoulder listlessly as if she didn't give a crap about anything. Her elbows were swinging back and forth idly.
"Hold it right there, Kawasaki," Hiratsuka‐sensei called out authoritatively to her back. The sound of her voice shook the ground roughly.
At that, Kawasaki turned around, her eyes narrowing half‐way as if she was glaring. As she turned around, she stooped over in a smooth motion.
Hiratsuka‐sensei was tall as well, but she was inferior to Kawasaki. Her long legs, covered loosely by her boots, kicked a small rock smartly.
"…you want something?" Kawasaki said belligerently in a husky 'I don't give a shit' tone. The way she spoke so bluntly was scary. She wasn't the delinquent or yankee 'I'll beat the shit outta you!'‐type of scary. She was the older woman in a sleazy bar kind of scary. She had the kind of vibe of a person sitting at the corner of the counter, smoking and holding whisky in one hand.
On the other hand, Hiratsuka‐sensei's entire body was also emitting a similar scary aura. She was scary the way a tired old man is when he helps himself to a bottle of beer as he's eating his fifth helping of soba at a Chinese cookery in front of the station in the sleazy part of town, yelling things like, "He's hopeless! What a shit pitcher!" at the relay broadcast of baseball. What was this, the clash of the titans?
"Kawasaki, I hear you've been coming home late these days ‐ that you've been coming back in the early hours of the morning. Just what are you doing and where?"
"Did someone tell you that?"
"My client information is strictly confidential. Now answer my question," Hiratsuka‐sensei said in her take‐no‐shit tone.
Kawasaki sighed languidly. From the looks of it, she was ridiculing sensei. "Nothing much. Does it really matter where I go? Not like I'm getting in anyone's way."
"But you might in the future. You won't be a high school student forever. Don't you see there are people watching out for you? Like your parents and me," Hiratsuka‐sensei insisted.
But Kawasaki only looked at her with a bored expression.
Losing patience, Hiratsuka‐sensei grabbed Kawasaki by the arm. "Have you never considered how your parents are feeling?" she demanded seriously, clinging as if she would never let go.
Her touch was probably warm and tender. I wondered if her passionate feelings would melt Kawasaki's heart.
"Sensei…" Kawasaki whispered, touching Hiratsuka‐sensei's hand and looking straight into her eyes.
Then‐
"Like I know how my parents feel. And anyway, there's no way you could know since you've never been a parent either, sensei. Shouldn't you only say that stuff after you get married and have kids yourself?"
"Uuuuurk!"
Kawasaki had turned the tables completely. Hiratsuka‐sensei lost her footing like a boxer hit by a sucker punch. She was receiving a considerable amount of damage. It seemed her feelings hadn't gotten across.
"Sensei, you should worry about your own future before you worry about mine. Like getting married and stuff."
Hiratsuka‐sensei's body keeled over at the continued pummelling. Her knees were trembling. So the damage had reached her legs, huh… The impact reached her hips, her shoulders and all the way up to her voice box. She croaked, but no words came out. Her eyes were watering.
The callous Kawasaki paid no heed and disappeared into the bicycle parking area. We all looked at each other wordlessly, not knowing what to say. Yuigahama and Komachi gazed pointedly at the ground, while Totsuka muttered, "Poor sensei," to himself.
Then Yukinoshita crouched down. It was as if she was trying to avoid making a presence of herself.
Why? Why was it up to me to do something? I thought. As I watched my teacher's pitiful state, I felt compelled to say something. Could it be… that I was feeling sorry for her?
"Er, uh… sensei?" I said, trying to think of comforting words.
Sensei turned around stiffly like she was a zombie.
She sniffed. "I'm going home…" she said in a thin, trembling voice as she rubbed her eyes with the sides of her thumbs.
And then, without even waiting for my response, she began making her way unsteadily towards the car park.
"Y‐you tried your best." As I watched her lone figure stumbling in the distance, the afternoon glow from the sun stung my eyes and caused tears to sprout.
Someone marry her already, please.
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An hour after Hiratsuka‐sensei disappeared into the evening sun and became a single glittering star in the night sky, we were at Chiba station.
Komachi took our cat Kamakura home. It was too soon for a middle school student like Komachi to go to Chiba's central business district. Eating with her friends at the 14th Yokado food court suited her better. But seriously, what would a middle schooler see in Yokado? I developed a hatred for it from the times I went shopping there with my mother. Mothers are better off going to somewhere like Mother Park.
Anyway, the time was already close to 7:30 pm. It was around the time when the city became bustling with nightly activity.
"Inside Chiba's central business district, only two restaurants with 'Angel' in their names operate until the early hours of the morning, it seems," I said.
"And this is one of those places?" Yukinoshita looked suspiciously at the neon lights shining on a sign with 'Maid Café Angel' written on it. On the side, there were even illustrations of a beckoning girl with cat ears that read: 'Welcome back, woof.'
'What the hell is this?' was written all over Yukinoshita's face.
I felt the same way. What the hell was this? Welcome back, woof, meow? Did they think they were dogs or cats? And even the name 'Angel' reeked of stupidity. The angel part had nothing to do with what the store was about.
"So there's a maid café in Chiba…" Yuigahama looked at the building incredulously.
"You're so naïve, Yuigahama. There's nothing Chiba doesn't have. Misunderstanding trends and latching onto them is what Chiba is all about. See, it has quite an unfortunate look about it. That's Chiba quality for you."
That's right. You could say Chiba is a very unfortunate prefecture. The Narita International Airport, the Tokyo Game Show, Country Farm Tokyo German Village, 'Chiba's Shibuya' ‐ these bizarre novelties were a result of Chiba's fixation on trends, usually thanks to Tokyo's influence. Adapting and adding to things was what Chiba was all about. When you think about the existence of the One Hundred Hills, Chiba's exclusive residential district, you could say that fixation has already led to Chiba playing second fiddle to the rest of the world.
And so in the centre of the Keisei‐Chiba line, animation gathered indiscriminately in one place, forming the heart of a certain type of Chiba subculture. AKI‐BA rhymes with CHI‐BA, after all. Thus it was natural we would have maid cafés here.
"I don't really know much about these things but… um, what kind of shop is a maid café?" Totsuka scrutinised the lettering on the sign over and over again, but he couldn't make sense of it. I suppose he would have had no clue even it had 'Shall we spend MOE MOE maid time together?' written on it. 'How do you spend maid time?' he would be asking. 'Is that supposed to be a maid?'
"Oh, since I've actually never been to one, I can't say…" I admitted. "So I called a guy who knows this sort of stuff in detail."
"Oho. You called, Hachiman."
As if on cue, Zaimokuza Yoshiteru appeared at the ticket barrier in the middle of the Keisei‐Chiba station. He was wearing a coat even though it was early summer, and sweat dripped down his forehead as he laughed sonorously. Crystals of salt flew off the collar of his coat. You know, if this were Ancient China, he'd be executed for illegally manufacturing salt.
"Whoa…" Yuigahama grimaced slightly.
But it would be hard to blame her for doing that. The reason for that was because I was grimacing even harder than she was.
"Why do you have that look on your face when you're the one who called me?" Zaimokuza demanded.
"Oh, you see, someone had to do it, but I was just thinking what a pain in the arse you are."
"I understand," said Zaimozuka, laughing evilly. All it did was make his voice sound annoyingly high‐pitched. Get lost already. "Indeed, it is difficult to suppress one's true strength when battling one's fated enemy. You must embrace your hatred a hundred times over!"
"Yep, yep. That's why you're a pain in the arse." I really didn't want to call him, but the only two people I knew who understood this stuff in detail were Zaimokuza and Hiratsuka‐sensei. But Hiratsuka‐sensei knew more about shonen manga than that kind of stuff, so that left me with only one option.
I'd already conveyed the particulars to Zaimokuza over text. About the time Kawasaki Saki was going home, how we thought she was working at a place with 'Angel' in the name, and about her personality. Zaimokuza's response to that information was a single: 'Maid Café Angel.'
"Zaimokuza, are you sure this is the place?"
"Oh, without a doubt."
Zaimokuza furiously pressed buttons on his smart phone and revealed the information google‐fu taught him with a dramatic flourish. Smart phones are handy, but if you use them for every little thing in your life, your fingers are bound to get tired. The Ubiquitous Computing Technology Corporation was a company that created cushions for your fingers when you overused them on a smart phone.
"According to this, there are two possible candidates in this city. And in Kawasaki's case, we must certainly pick this destination. I hear it in my ghost." Zaimozuka's answer was brimming with confidence.
I gulped. "How do you know?"
Could it be that this guy had grabbed hold of some unique insight? Zaimokuza was grinning from ear to ear.
Ah, this guy didn't have confidence in himself, I thought. What he had was conviction.
"Well, be silent and come… I can make the maids fawn over you," he said as he tugged on his coat with a flourish. I could see the wind causing his coat to curl up.
This guy…
As my heart throbbed in anticipation of what those maids would do for me, I took a step forward. It was one small step for a man, one giant leap for me.
Someone yanked on my blazer. I turned around to see Yuigahama gazing at me with a sullen face.
She said nothing for a moment.
"…what is it?" I demanded.
"Nothing much. Thought you didn't go to that kind of shop either, Hikki." She kneaded my blazer incessantly with her fingertip, a mysteriously sullen expression on her face. "Bad feeling."
Quit touching me. You'll ruin my blazer.
"…I don't even get what you're saying. Use the subject‐verb‐noun structure in your sentences."
"I mean, isn't this a place guys go to? What are we girls gonna do?"
Hm? Oh yeah, come to think of it, did girls even go to maid cafés? Thinking Zaimokuza‐sensei would teach me, I glanced in his direction. Zaimokuza‐sensei had his arms folded in a 'leave it to me!' kind of manner as he cried out in a high‐ pitched voice. "Fear not, mademoiselle!"
"Who's a madder mozell…?" I actually knew what he said, but I didn't want to admit it.
"I figured something like this would happen, so I brought maid outfits to use as infiltration devices," he said as he whipped out a maid outfit from behind his back, along with a cleaner's plastic bag filled with sanitary products. Seriously, there was a metal bat and a frying pan in there too. "Ohohohoho. Now then, Sir Totsuka, shall we be off…?"
I saw what you did there. G'job.
"H‐huh? What do I have to…?" Totsuka took one step and then another in his attempt to get away from Zaimokuza, who was slowly sidling up to him. Seriously, what was with his horror movie‐like reactions? On a normal day, I would have punched Zaimokuza in the stomach and rescued Totsuka like the hero I was, but today, that was the only action I could not bring myself to do.
I‐I kind of wanted to see him in a maid outfit… Lots of mathematicians were gay. So what? Like Alan Turing. The father of modern computing.
Finally, Zaimokuza cornered Totsuka by the wall. At that exact moment, the backlight made Zaimokuza look like a genuine monster. "Now then, Sir Totsuka… I have you now, my pretty!"
As the creature brandishing a maid outfit with one hand loomed before a teary‐ faced Totsuka, Totsuka shook his head frantically. "No, no… please…"
But even as he knew resistance was futile, Totsuka attempted to deny the reality before him and scrunched his eyes shut, large tears collecting in his eyes.
It happened then.
"Okay, okay, okaaaay! I wanna try putting it on! It's so cute!" Yuigahama said as she swiped the maid outfit from Zaimokuza's hand.
"…keh," Zaimokuza spat. Yuigahama regarded that gesture with keen annoyance and glared at Zaimokuza with a 'what an annoying, pathetic virgin!' look on her face. Which I mean, I was a pathetic virgin too. So no stones cast there on my end.
"Huh, what's with that attitude? You're pissing me off," spat Yuigahama.
On a normal day, Zaimokuza would have coughed exaggeratedly and made a run for it, but because he was compelled by the power of maid outfits, his pointless self‐assurance from earlier returned to the fore. "Hmph, that is not what being a maid is all about. What you call being a maid is merely donning a costume. You lack the soul."
"What the hell? I have no idea what you're saying…" Yuigahama looked at me for help, but this was one situation where I refused to step in.
You see, it was because I completely understood what Zaimokuza was saying. "No, I get it. How do I put it? You'd look completely out‐of‐place even if you did wear a maid outfit. If you were wearing it at the school festival dance, you'd only see angry college student types."
Honestly, since those events were only for looking down on otaku and maids as well as those who gathered around it, I wondered what was so great about worshipping and devoting oneself to maid outfits. It seemed like a nice feeling from afar.
"You might wear the cosplay, but your heart is not dressed up! Come back after you have read Shirley! People like you mess up your cosplays at Comiket and smoke calmly in the smoking area!"
Yuigahama dropped behind three paces at Zaimokuza's frenzied spiel. Groaning audibly, she looked around restlessly for an ally. Then she ducked behind trusty Yukinoshita's back.
Yukinoshita, who had become Yuigahama's shield, let out a short, terse sigh and pointed at the 'Maid Café Angel' sign.
"It seems they welcome girls here too," she said. When I looked at the letters she was pointing at, I saw it was indeed written there: 'Girls welcome too! Dress up as a maid!'
Holy crap, that sign wasn't lying. It really was maid time.
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-WG