“You had a fight with your closest friend and stopped talking to each other completely?”
“What!?”
She gave me a How’d you know? look, but honestly, it was just because she’s too obvious.
“Must be hard, navigating female friendships.”
“You’ve got to be the least sincere comment in human history…”
Honestly, I couldn’t care less.
“But this time, it’s not some messy girl drama or anything. Just a misunderstanding, like a wordplay mishap… Well, it was completely my fault.”
Wordplay usually involves shared responsibility. Nobita can handle it alone, though.
“Like the gathering I skipped the other day—turns out afterward it was super awkward and boring. Everyone complained about how dull and cold it was. Then Ricchan said something like, If she’d been there, it might’ve been better… What do you think?”
“What do you mean, what? That’s just—”
“Right? It’s not like they couldn’t have a good time without me, right? I’d just be a buzzkill anyway… Hmm, what’s wrong, Komori-kun? You’re holding your forehead.”
Wish you wouldn’t use question marks if you’re not asking a question.
“…Did you say that to her?”
“Yeah. I told her I’m not important anyway, I’d just be awkward. Then she turned all What did you just say? and got mad. After that… well….”
There was a lot, sniff, sniff, so I’ll summarize.
She apologized without understanding why she’d upset her, which only made her angrier. Comments about Shishihara’s style change in second year and joining a new group (the literary club, which I’m not unrelated to) were interpreted as criticism—at least in Shishihara’s mind. She fired back with, I’m trying my best too! and boom—full-on war.
They calmed down with others mediating, but the cold war continues.
“…Originally, I was only close with Ricchan because we’ve known each other the longest. I just happened to get into that cool group by luck. I was trying too hard to fit in… Maybe I should just reset everything, start fresh. A no-smartphone challenge.”
“And here we are.”
“Ugh, it’s just… huh huh huh… Any thoughts?”
Long. I wanted to leave halfway. Worse, only one word.
“Though you started by saying you were in the wrong, you ended up talking like you did nothing wrong. That’s impressive.”
“Uwahahaha!”
The girl choked like someone poured chili oil into her trachea.
“Who talks to a depressed girl like that!? Is there anyone in this world who does!?”
Not anger—pure shock, like she’d just seen a horror movie.
“I’m not blaming you.”
From the story, I don’t think Shishihara was hot-headed or stubborn at all.
“If you don’t think you’re wrong but still got mad, there must’ve been a reason.”
“…Yeah. There definitely was.”
Uncomfortable, Shishihara messed up her hair, uncaring that her style was ruined. That calico hair she dyed to match the number one trendy color after entering second year. She fussed with the side-tail at the end.
“I wasn’t always like this. In our friend group, there’s always roles… Like, someone flashy, someone bright… If there’s someone leading, there’s someone being led.”
“Your group seems full of flashy, bright girls though.”
“Not really. Even among us, there’s a difference between really stylish and just kinda stylish. It’s all relative, you know.”
“True.”
Everyone’s one of a kind. So they say, stay true to yourself, cherish your uniqueness.
But I think that’s the furthest thing from the truth in history. Because uniqueness is something you can only recognize through comparison with others. If someone was the only person in the world, the word uniqueness wouldn’t even exist.
“At that time, I was the type who’d catch stag beetles barehanded as a kid.”
“What kind of type is that?”
“Like, I followed my own path, way more manly than now.”
Though she added I can still touch them now, which was unnecessary.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT gadgetizedpanda.net
“So Ricchan, who isn’t much of a talker, used to hold onto my shirt hem and follow me around. Surprising, right? If you ask when she changed… Well, probably this.”
Shishihara mimed with her hands like a beast’s claws—Gao! Not trying to redeem her failed self-introduction earlier. Werecat—that’s her nickname.
“When I first entered middle school, there were other things that felt off, but the biggest was my vision. I could see super well in the dark! I thought I had superpowers or something, but when I told my parents, they said, Let’s go to the hospital. After all the tests… The university hospital doctor was fun. His first line was Cat-type or dog-type? What the heck is that—only two options!?”
That’s when she was first diagnosed. Since it’s a sensitive topic, I kept a straight face, but Shishihara seemed genuinely amused.
“Then they did more tests… or so I thought, and boom—they surprised me. They brought a cute cat into the room and said, Now please play with this cat. Is that even a real method? My first thought was, What if I’m the kind of person cats naturally like?”
“That’s proper scientific verification.”
Many mammals have a functioning Jacobson’s organ, and Werecats secrete a substance that only affects domestic cats. Basically, we were just witnessing the silver vine reaction.
“Anyway, that’s how I officially became the [cat girl] from that day on… Ah, that’s just my nickname around the neighborhood. At school, well… there were a bunch more, ruthless ones.”
“……”
I remembered how Saku senpai had a pile of them too. And how much I hated that.
“Middle schoolers are brutal, huh?”
Because of their ignorance, they casually hurt people without even realizing it.
“Well, you can’t help it. Even without [Myudents], teasing and being teased is just normal. I figured it was the same kind of thing… but my best friend, this girl, totally disagreed. She punched a guy who said something awful to her. I was shocked.”
Contrary to the comedic sound effect, Shishihara’s hand swung a hook punch that looked like it could end a life.
“That’s when it started. She became the one pulling me along, and I became the one being protected. It’s fine that she changed, that she grew up. I’m happy for her, really. The problem is me. The distance… the gap… it feels like it’s widening… I thought to myself, ‘This won’t do, right?’ So, for me, it was a high-stakes gamble—my spring of second-year high school.”
“……I see.”
Joining the literature club (laughs), that artsy-fartsy club, was part of that plan too, huh. All to close that distance, even a little.
Shishihara probably felt like she’d made a once-in-a-lifetime decision, which is why she couldn’t stand being rejected by the very person who caused it—nobody else.
——This girl is in full puberty, isn’t she?
Like I said before, that’s not my area. Please stop.
What I reconfirmed was how deep the issues with Myudents ran, especially the part where symptoms appear during puberty. It’s practically a curse on God’s level. At an age where your body and mind are already changing, where you fret over a mole or a millimeter of freckles, having pheromones that attract cats? You’d never sleep again.
“What’s this Jacobson’s organ nonsense? What sixth sense? Those guys getting high off catnip…”
Back when I was alienating every feline on the planet with baseless slander.
“Hey, Komori-kun… I wonder if that kid is alone?”
Shishihara suddenly stood up, pointing at the street. Amid the steady flow of people, there stood a small boy, about five or six, motionless.
“He does look alone.”
“Maybe he’s lost? Definitely, right? Okay, let’s check it out.”
Shishihara charged ahead, so I followed.
“It’s dangerous to stand here, kid?”
The boy flinched at her voice.
“Let’s go over there. Come on, yeah?”
Though her eyes held no hostility, he was still a stranger. The boy looked terrified, but maybe he thought resisting would lead to worse. Hesitantly, he started walking with tiny steps.
After guiding him to the sidewalk, I asked,
“Ahh… Are you with your parents?”
Trying to mimic Shishihara’s gentle tone, I squeezed out what I hoped was a kind voice. But… was it my imagination? His eyes trembled, lips pressed tight, sniffing back snot.
——Isn’t this kid about to cry?
Let me clarify: I don’t have an intimidating face. I’ve been called a decent-looking guy (by my little sister). I even thought I was good with kids. So why…
Almost shouting, “What did I do wrong?!” and ready to confront a child, I was stopped by—
“Yup yup, Komori-kun’s bad with little kids. Don’t force it.”
Shishihara pushed me aside like a useless item. Not that I’m bad with kids. I wasn’t forcing anything.
“Hiya! Nice weather today, huh?”
Shishihara crouched down, making herself smaller than the boy. The height of a daycare teacher. Right, at my average high schooler height, I must’ve seemed like a giant to him. As I mentally kicked myself for the oversight, Shishihara easily coaxed his name and age (first grade, six years old) out of him.
“Are you here with your dad or mom today?”
“Uh-huh… Mommy and… o-hagi…”
Oh, he’s hungry? While I was distracted, the boy glanced nervously at my face, then squeaked and hid behind Shishihara. A steelclad message: “I trust the big sister, but this guy? Not a chance.”
“Aww, it’s okay! This guy’s eyes look scary, but he’s pretty normal inside…”
“Don’t bother. It’s annoying.”
Since I was clearly benched, I silently stepped back.
No one on Earth noticed the single boy silently on the verge of tears.
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