Kotone Miyamoto wore her hair up in a ponytail high enough to be called a topknot. Beside her were the men she had hired to build and run her fondest dream -- a museum for anime. The three of them were taking questions from the assembled journalist audience, and the gossip magazines that followed all celebrities to get their every thought on everything. She didn't resent the gossip magazines, she was eternally grateful for them. They were her access to the outside world, her chance to spread her message far and wide, to anyone who cared to listen. They wouldn't find any dirt on her no matter how long they searched, so it was never an issue. And if they caught her topless or something with a hidden camera, well, it couldn't be helped. She looked very good topless, in the grand scheme of things.
"Why did you choose to build an anime museum, Ms. Miyamoto?" A journalist asked, to get the questions started.
"Because I love anime." Kotone responded.
"Well, then, why build it in Inazumu, so far away from other major tourist attractions?" The journalist followed up.
"Because I live here. Someday my children will live here, and I want to take them to this museum all the time. It would be troublesome to take a train every time I wanted to visit!" Kotone smiled, and the crowd laughed.
"But you're right, it's probably not a good business decision. But that's okay. If the museum is fun enough, people will come from all over Japan, and all over the world, here to our little city of Inazumu, just like the tens of thousands that visit Haruhi's school, or K-On's school, or Lucky Star's shrine, just to see the real basis for what they saw in their favorite shows. Anime fans are dedicated, they want to go places, and now they have somewhere to go. This should be the first place any fan comes, from anywhere in the world." Kotone followed up.
"Do you think many people will come?" The reporter followed up.
"I hope they do. That is their decision. But whether they come or not, the Museum will stay open. This museum is my gift to Japan, and to the entire world. It is an act of charity, not a business decision. As Mrs. Miyamoto, I can afford a few charities, here and there." Kotone smiled happily. She loved pointing out she was married to Masanori. That's because it thrilled her every time she was reminded of it, a shiver of unreal joy that she had waited for so long, and now finally had. It had been a long, long test. But she had passed it. And today, every day, was her reward.
A new reporter stood up. "How much did it cost to buy the copyrights for all these series, or to restore the old videos of your older works? Did you find a lot of cooperation within the anime business community?"
"Yes, very much." Kotone replied. "Everyone in the anime business was enthusiastic about the idea of my museum. Piracy is one thing, which threatens the heart of our greatest industry, and our finest workers in the country, who deserve much more than they're paid, and work much harder than anyone else can imagine. But a museum isn't piracy, because it's too difficult to come all this way just to watch a few shows for free, neh? For this reason, securing the rights to all these shows, to show within the walls of my building, was actually very cheap. If I hadn't refused, I could have gained most of the rights for free. But now at last there is a place on Earth with the copyright to every anime ever made, with all of its shows on record, free to view, and we promise to continue buying every series that comes out, and add them to our collection, for as long as the Museum lives, which I hope is much longer than myself."
"Would that even include hentai, Ms. Miyamoto?" The reporter stabbed at a topic that would be controversial and thus newsworthy.
"It does, though of course you will have to be of proper age to gain access to it, just as ecchi shows will require a proper age to gain access to them. I will not be the gatekeeper of 'good' and 'bad' anime, I will leave that up to the fans to decide for themselves. I just want a warm place, a home, for anime and its fans. A place that welcomes everyone and every series ever made." Kotone replied.
"It's been said that your favorite word is 'warm,' and your favorite phrase is 'Please, everyone, spread the warmth.' Would you care to explain the meaning behind that phrase?" A gossip magazine reporter asked.
"Yes, I would love to. Actually, let me start by saying it now: Please, everyone, spread the warmth." Kotone gave the audience her best smile, saying the words as beautifully as possible. If she had one chance to give the world this vital message, it was today. She wanted to make the idea stick.
"I hope everyone has an innate idea as to what I mean. I think we all know some things are warm, and some aren't, just by looking at them. I want a world where everyone tries their best to stay on the warm side, around the warm things, doing what they know would be the warm thing to do. I know we all have instincts that pull us away from that, desires that aren't warm at all. But I think if we make a conscious effort, if we check ourselves, if we will ourselves to be as warm as we can be, we can overcome those instincts and those desires. We always know, right before we commit ourselves to some fateful decision, or some fateful sentence, whether what we are doing is motivated by warmth, or something else, something much colder. In that case, I hope people spread the warmth with their fateful decisions and their fateful sentences, and bite their tongue and defeat the cold, beat it down, until it's all gone and floats away with the wind, before it ever leaves their head or their mouth, otherwise." Kotone pleaded.
"Can you give a specific example?" The gossip magazine reporter followed up. "For people who don't understand what it means innately?"
"Hmmm, well, I guess I could try. Suppose someone offends you, you can either retaliate or forgive them, and still try to connect on other things. I wish people would do the latter. Or suppose you're rich, and others are poor, I would want those people to pay their taxes gladly, and give away even more, out of love for others. We could just be a little more grateful to our friends and family, and always more forgiving of their faults. If your husband asks to make love to you, you could say yes, even if you have a headache. That would be warmer. So you see, it's everywhere, warmth. It permeates everything. And your heart always knows what's the right thing to do. We just have to be willing to do it. I know it's a sacrifice, and that it's hard, and that people want other things, cold things, just as much, like justice, or dominance, or revenge. . .I don't know, so many things that trump our love for each other. . .that's why I can only beg people, with a please in front, to make that sacrifice and forego all those pleasures, because I think warmth is worth it. I think it's worth anything." Kotone answered.
"Getting back to the museum, what sort of attractions do you offer and at what price?" A reporter in the back row asked.
"Entrance to the Museum is free. Inside the museum there are various things that do cost money, however. We have theatres that are showing currently airing anime movies, which require tickets to enter like any other theatre. We have a food court that serves anime themed food, like curry, nabe, takoyaki, taiyaki and crepes, which you have to pay normal prices for. We have a souvenier shop that sells figurines and cosplay outfits, for rent to take pictures in and for sale, that all cost normal amounts. But if you just want to watch anime, or stroll by endless good anime openings, it's as free an experience as a trip to the park." Kotone explained.
"Is the food served by cute maid waitresses?" The reporter followed up.
"There's nothing like that." Kotone waved her hand with a practiced blush. "The food is kept fresh in dozens of separate stalls, ready to order, so you just pick it up off the counter and find a table for yourself to eat. Everyone should eat as much as they please of whatever favorite food they like, but then they should get back up and start walking around again, as soon as possible. That's our hope with a food court."
"How do you plan to give everyone a pleasant audio experience with so many conflicting shows in each room playing?" A new reporter asked.
"There's an app for that." Kotone said, and the room laughed. "No, really, we thought it over, and we decided everyone owned a smart phone by now, so we wondered how we could make use of this. Eventually we made a computer program where each individual, simply by standing or sitting in front of a screen, has their choice registered by their app, and using the earphones of their own personal device, like say an ipod, personally receives the synched audio necessary to enjoy the screen they've parked in front of. The hallways have giant flatscreen TV's one after the other, repeating a series of five separate openings, that are grouped intelligently, for instance all the openings of a series will be given in sequence on the same screen, unless it has more than five, in which case it will carry over to the next flatscreen TV on the wall. Then there are the cubby-holes, that can seat around ten people, where people can get comfortable and watch the anime of their choosing. Without their own device, they won't be able to hear anything, but in the modern age I don't think that's asking much from our customers. As far as the outside world is concerned, the only noise in the museum will be people's walking and talking."
"Is there enough room to show every opening of every series on your walls?" The reporter followed up.
"I don't think so, no." Kotone consulted her museum curator. "The plan is to keep the more popular and memorable openings up at all times, and to cycle the rest. In general, the further you are from the entrance, the more obscure and rare the openings will be. It might take many visits to 'catch them all.'" The reporters smiled, knowing how fanatical some anime fans could be when it came to 'complete collections.'
"What do you hope to see from this museum?" A gossip magazine reporter asked.
"I would love to see couples on dates taking a cubbyhole together, or walking through the hallways holding hands, eating dinner together, dressing up in costumes and taking pictures together, or watching a movie together in the theatre. I'd also love to see families taking their kids out to see a fantastic variety of anime all at once, in the efficient manner of just showing the openings, so that they can be overwhelmed with how beautiful it all is. I think our museum would be the best introduction to anime for anyone, so I hope many adults who have grown up loving anime bring their kids here first, to start their indoctrination. Let's see, what else? Oh, yes, we will be inviting prominent members of the anime community to talk about what projects they are currently working on, and their thoughts on projects they've already completed, so that the public can have a better understanding of why certain shows are in hiatus or why others were picked to be animated. I would like fans and producers of anime to get along better because of this museum. I would also like to see this museum raise the popularity and recognition anime has as a whole, as works of art just as deserving of display as any paintings in the Louvre. Anime won't be treated equally to art in museums until it's featured as art in a museum. Maybe now we can hope to see more respect from the wider community, now that I've given anime the trappings of respectability that so many stale paintings from yesteryear are given so reflexively. In truth, I don't think the artistic power of our anime loses to anyone, Titian, Rembrandt, Botticelli or Michelangelo. By creating this massive and prestigious palace to host our Japanese artists, our anime works, I'm firing a shot across the bow to all the Europeans. Come here, tour this, and tell me if you didn't really enjoy it as much as your still lifes of fruits in bowls or portraits of old dead kings! Tell me if you dare! It's time anime is given the respect it deserves, and reaches many, many new people who, for lack of public respect, never gave it a chance. I hope my museum, ultimately, makes anime a staple in every home, and thereby transforms every soul in the world. Thank you very much." Kotone stood up and bowed deeply to the reporters, then gave a sideways V salute framing her left eye, then left the press conference. She was exhilarated by the lights, the attention, the completed building, and her chance to say what was in her heart. The only way life could be any better is if I'm pregnant. Kotone smiled and cupped her flat stomach, willing it to grow with new life. Children were warmer than anything.
* * *
Aiko Sakai had been practicing tennis, and friendship, for a full month. Surprisingly, mind reading hadn't been much use. Her friends were already honest with her, and most of the thoughts they kept to themselves were things no one would be interested in hearing anyway. When you thought about it, the words people chose were like the brain's final draft -- no one preferred the first draft of a book, so why would they prefer the first draft of someone's thoughts? They were almost always jumbled and senseless until actually put into words. Now, if she were a trial judge allowed to convict criminals on the basis of mind reading, without even bothering to go through the court system, her ability would be extremely useful. It's just that for a middle schooler in Inazumu, Japan, opportunities to capture or prosecute criminals were few and far between. Besides, she'd never be able to explain to the authorities what her evidence was, so they'd all get off anyway. One time, getting frustrated over how much worse she was at tennis than her ace friends, she had read Sayuri's mind the entire game to know where she would hit it with what spin ahead of time. She had won that game, which had been extremely satisfying at the time, even the look of astonishment on Mizuki's face and chagrin on Sayuri's at having lost to an amateur. But now she just felt ashamed of it. She was even more ashamed that she couldn't admit what she did to her friends, and apologize to them for it. It was so like a Dead Ender to cheat. She had to become better than this. She didn't want to be the person Bubbles scryed every night.
At least his scrying had changed. Wyrds saw pictures in their heads when they scryed, not 'numbers' or something that rated your good or evil points on a chart. It was more complicated than that -- and her picture had changed, recently. Before, she had been a small house, tidy and inconspicuous, like any other you might see. But now she was a house with scaffolding, a house preparing to build a second floor. It was progress. Thank the gods. It might sound petty compared to Chiharu's field of flowers, but Aiko was trying her best, and she was succeeding. That still made her smile every time she thought about it. Bubbles wasn't so bad, now that he admitted she was improving. His worst fears and wild delusions, at least, were past. Aiko had spied on Bubbles' mind a few times, and secretly, he was becoming more hopeful that she wouldn't be a total blight upon the world.
She had also begun her novel. She didn't have any spare time, really, to write it. Between her conscientious attention to getting A's in school and improving at tennis with the rest of her club, the day was simply too short to include anything else. Her body had never been worked so hard. Every day they were running at least two kilometers, and that didn't count zigzagging sprint drills that trained you how to change directions on the court quickly to intercept the ball. Then there was swing practice to strengthen her arms, and squats to strengthen her legs. The explosiveness of her first two steps was key to reaching the ball in time, wherever it was hit, and that all came down to the strength of her muscles. It had been miserable going at first, and she never really enjoyed exercise -- it was always exhausting while you were doing it -- but at least she'd gained the endurance and confidence that the drills were no longer a problem for her. She didn't cramp up the entire rest of the day after practice, still aching the next day when she woke up, just from a little running. She didn't have to quit and walk halfway while the rest of the club left her behind. It was okay, she was a beginner, everyone understood, but it was still so frustrating that she hated it with all her heart. She'd never be one of them until she was physically fit and could start winning games. Stuff like writing had to take a back seat until she fit in to her new community.
But even in that back seat, she had found time to write. What was her novel about? She had thought about it endlessly. What was a book she could write? What would be entertaining enough to read? How could it impart a valuable moral lesson to the world? These were her three criteria she had to funnel her ideas through. She had access to the most moral people on Earth, not that she'd used it much -- she was just too busy to meet Chiharu's friends and Chiharu had already told Aiko everything she believed in a nutshell. But would people believe her morality, or theirs? Without the help of scrying to back up their word, as just a work of fiction, could she really make a difference? It all came down to her skill with words. Aiko thought she had a great plot. In a world of enforced equality, measures had been continuously taken to encourage indiscriminate marital mixing such that no one stood out and no one was left out. These measures had been propaganda based, education based, financially based, and peer pressure based, until the story begins. Secretly, a group of heretics had continued to marry each other on the basis of merit, prizing each other's fitness, intelligence, physical beauty and moral virtues over society's love of equality, and paying any price to marry as they pleased, despite the increasingly draconian punishments the government placed upon them.
So many centuries had passed, and this group had selected so highly for intelligence, that the current generation had even developed psychic powers. The families of the secret underground had already arranged marriages between all the children with psychic powers to match with each other, when they came of age, in the hopes of creating a whole new breed of humanity. At the same time, the governments, tired of these dissidents ruining their perfect homogeneous mass and 'spoiling the picture' with their cancer of elitism and selfishness, not aware whatsoever of the children's psychic powers, passed a new law declaring that henceforth all marriages would be arranged by the state in the interests of equality. They would get rid of all freakish abominations, like people whose skin color gradients were outside the normal, average brown, whose intelligence fell more than a standard deviation from the mean and thus were capable of making other, normal people look foolish, whose beauty was too much remarked upon, which made other people look ugly, or people who refrained totally from normal vices like smoking, drinking, or pot, which made everyone else look undisciplined and undignified.
There was going to be a brilliant scene, in the very first chapter, where the leading girl, whose name was Autumn, stood up in class when this announcement was made. She would be sixteen, almost an adult, and almost ready to marry her destined partner, fully raised in her own dissident culture that prized excellence above all else. She would be the smartest, most beautiful, most virtuous girl in the school, the subject of everyone's open hatred and secret jealousy, with pale white skin, blue eyes and blonde hair. These traits were a sign of open rebellion against the system, because all three were recessive genetic traits that only discrimination in breeding partners could preserve across centuries. Secretly, she would be a psychic, one of just twenty in the world, ten boys and ten girls, who were the hope and joy of their underground network. In short, she was a member of the nobility, an aristocrat in an age of total and complete equality, and she stood like an aristocrat, looked at people like an aristocrat, and spoke like an aristocrat, always asserting dominance and superiority. She was like a falcon in flight, everything about her was as sharp as a falcon's beak or talons. Her contempt was withering, and any slight recognition or smile she gave you instead of her normal scorn for the outside world was worth a thousand pounds, so rarely was it earned.
"I will never marry against my will." Autumn would announce. And then, without any explanation for her decisions or why she disapproves of the current system, a simple: "This means war."
The boy who fell in love with that girl, not because she was average, tolerant, normal, meek, humble, or conformist, but because she was a falcon soaring above everyone in the wind, was Aiko's other main character. He was a changeling, a boy who through some disastrous mix-up in a hospital, had been born to underground resistance parents, but given to normal parents to raise. Because he looked average, with black hair, brown skin and brown eyes, he had always superficially fit in. Before he met Autumn, before that fateful day she stood up in class, he had always accepted what he had been taught about the virtue of averageness and normalcy, as just something natural that wasn't worthy of debate, such a background belief that he had never even thought to question it. But when the authorities came to arrest and interrogate her for this speech, he had broken her free, and the two had together fled into what was turning into a rebel army. On one side of this new civil war was the collected force of the government and their endless armies with full citizen approval that they stamp out the 'elitists' and 'discriminators', as, after all, it was discriminatory to prefer to marry one person over another -- and on the other side was a large population of people who were smarter, fitter, more disciplined and more determined that formed the ranks of the underground, and their spearhead of twenty psychics. The boy hero, Kip, would gradually learn of this entirely foreign culture to himself, and compare it to what he had always been told was true. Each time he would unlock a part of his brain, realize how stupid the outside world had been, and grow closer to the philosophy of the rebellion that he had only joined because Autumn was in it. In this way, Aiko would be able to crush every stupid argument for equality and nondiscrimination in the world, one by one, just like Kip's beliefs were crushed, one by one, by the rebellious faction he lived around. Ultimately it would be discovered that Kip was 'the missing psychic,' the one whom Autumn had been arranged to marry when she was five, and had faithfully waited for all this time, preferring death to the dishonor of abandoning her promise to her fiancé, whoever he might be. He hadn't shown any psychic powers because his parents hadn't diligently been training him in them, like the rest of the underground society had been training theirs, but upon being DNA tested, his secret identity is revealed. Kip would then develop the strength he needed to help win the war, gain Autumn's respect, which he had only had flashes of while they were both in school together, gain independence for his culture and people, marry Autumn, and start a new breed of mankind, psychic powers and all, together with her, his indomitable falcon.
It would borrow from Nietzsche's Genealogy of Morals. It would also draw inspiration from the short story "Harrison Bergeron," where smart people's ears were fitted with devices to make crashing loud noises to disrupt any train of thought, so that they wouldn't be any smarter than the rest of the community. But mostly it was straight Plato. Plato, who had always favored an aristocracy of merit, who had divided people into 'golden, silver, and brass' classes, who insisted on a life of virtue, who pursued the truth fearlessly no matter who it upset, whose mentor Socrates martyred himself in defense of the truth that "If there were gods like Zeus and Aphrodite, the myths about them must be wrong, because they would never perform shameful acts like adultery." Socrates was a philosopher who refused to believe divinities would be less moral than mankind, and insisted on the concept of the sacred, the pristine, an unpolluted reverence for the Good which was the hallmark of true religious feeling. For this he was killed by an irate mobocracy, for the crime of 'corrupting the nation's youth,' ie, challenging tradition. His life and death proved everything Plato ever said. Socrates was definitely from the 'golden' class of man, and his killers from the 'brass.' In Aiko's book, Changeling, all her characters would be golden, and all their opponents brass, and in this holy war between the aristocracy of merit, and the mobs of mediocrity, she could show everyone the truth about how evil the principle of nondiscrimination could become.
The story hadn't gone very far. Actually, she hadn't even finished chapter 1 -- writing a page, for some reason, took way longer than reading one. But she was doing something she'd never had the courage to do before, and that's what mattered. She thought her father might like to read it someday, but it was simply too controversial to broach with anyone else. Most of all, she dared not risk her friendship with Sayuri or Mizuki by offending them with her heretical ideas. The book would have to be written in secret, and that was that.
Meditating on what she would write the next chance she got, perhaps this Sunday, the lunch bell finally rang, and Aiko stood up with a long stretch. She immediately regretted it.
Wow, look at them rise!
She's doing that on purpose.
What I'd give to. . .
Aiko blushed and lowered her arms, gathering her bento quickly and heading for the roof. It had not been intentional. It wasn't her fault she had breasts, or that they moved when she moved. Boys were all the same. Even with her mind reading limited to what people were thinking about her alone, the embarrassing sexual fantasies kept flowing in, and it was the only subject they ever thought about when it came to her, too.
Sayuri and Mizuki shared the same class, but Aiko was in another, so they had started eating lunch together on the roof instead. At least when the weather was nice outside, neither too hot nor too cold. A lot of other students had the same idea, but the roof was large enough to accommodate many groups, and soon the three had found their own little unused corner, which the other students got used to leaving to them ahead of time.
"Mizuki!" Aiko waved happily, reaching the top of the stairs and spotting her friends already sitting down on a blanket. She made it a point to include Mizuki, because Mizuki was terrible about retiring into the background if you let her, never saying a word. She was friends with both of them, and if Mizuki was reserved, well, Aiko was shy, and they both just had to work harder. Sayuri shouldn't have to be their go between, like some sort of mediator. She should be able to enjoy herself too, without worrying about us.
"Good afternoon, Aiko." Mizuki waved back. "Do you have anything tasty today?"
"Let's see, I haven't checked yet." Aiko answered, sitting down in a triangle with her friends and excitedly checking her box. Her mother was a great cook, so she never doubted it would be good. Sure enough, it was fried eggs, rice, and fish patties, as luxuriant a meal as Aiko could have hoped for.
"Itadakimasu." Aiko politely put her hands together while holding the chopsticks. Then Mizuki grabbed the first fish patty and Sayuri stole the second. Her stock of meat had just decreased by half. Aiko wanted to cry.
"Mmmm. Delicious! Your mother really is a great cook!" Mizuki praised Aiko.
"Thank you so much." Aiko rolled her eyes, grabbing the third fish patty, at least, before they got any ideas to take the rest for themselves.
"Come on, I'm taller than you, obviously I need to eat more." Mizuki explained.
"Then tell your mother that when she packs your bento." Aiko replied.
"You can have some of my lunch, Aiko." Sayuri offered.
"No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry if I sounded angry. You can eat all my lunch, every day, if you want. You two know that." Aiko quickly moderated her tone.
"You sound like we're delinquents with baseball bats collecting lunch money fees." Sayuri laughed.
"I didn't mean that either!" Aiko blushed, flustered.
"Say 'ahhhh'." Sayuri Ito demanded, holding her piece of lemon chicken in her chopsticks.
"Ahhhh." Aiko obeyed, leaning forward.
Sayuri expertly deposited the chicken into Aiko's mouth without touching her chopsticks to either side, and then smiled. "You too, Mizuki."
"Ahhhhh." Mizuki opened her mouth.
Sayuri punched her shoulder. "I meant feed Aiko too!"
Aiko giggled at Mizuki's deliberate misinterpretation, quickly grabbing her last fish patty and depositing it into Mizuki's mouth. Mizuki smiled and chewed triumphantly, while Sayuri rolled her eyes. Friendship was hard if you cared about your food, but it was easy if you cared about your friends. Aiko told herself to remember this for later, so that her house would be larger tonight.
I wish she'd do that for me. A boy sighed. She looks so happy today. So beautiful.
Aiko stood up like a bolt. "Found you." She announced triumphantly.
"Found who?" Sayuri asked.
"I don't know yet." Aiko grinned. Beautiful, am I? She quickly surveyed everyone else on the roof, and sure enough, she caught a boy looking at her, who promptly buried his face in his food. Found you, found you, found you! Aiko stared at him happily, drinking him in so she could place him in long term memory.
"Who's that?" Sayuri asked her again, following her line of sight to a group of boys on the other side of the roof.
"My boyfriend." Aiko announced happily.
"Ehhhh? When was this?" Mizuki protested, blinking.
"Just now. I decided just now." Aiko couldn't stop smiling. "I have to go talk to him, but. . .I'm too afraid. I don't know any of those boys."
"What if all three of us go over to them. Would that do?" Sayuri offered.
"Oh, yes, please, thank you. Will you come too, Mizuki? I just have to ask him out, that's all, then we can go back." Aiko said, all her courage summoned just to stay standing.
"Don't you need to find out his name first?" Mizuki protested.
"That can always come later." Aiko waved her concern away.
"Well, if it has to be, it has to be. Let's go." Mizuki stood up, and grabbed Aiko by the elbow. All three girls marched across the roof stiffly, aware they were making a scene. Aiko was at the rear and being pulled along by Mizuki, even though this was her idea. She wanted to look calm and cool, but her legs were shaking too hard.
When the three reached the other side, the entire roof was watching them in anticipation. All the boys were looking at them with slightly guilty faces, wondering what they were about to be tongue lashed for.
"This is Aiko Sakai, and she has something to say to you, the boy in the middle." Sayuri pointed at him as she spoke, bowed, and then pushed Aiko to the front. Aiko gulped. Even though she was with her friends, she felt very much alone.
"Y-yes?" The boy stood up, half looking at her face, half looking away.
"I. . ." Aiko stood frozen for an eternity. She couldn't do this. She could never assert herself like this. She was the center of the whole world's attention right now. She had to run away. She had to find a better time for this, someplace private. She knew his face, she could always meet him again later. There was no rush. She didn't even need a boyfriend. What was she doing?
"I. . .please go out with me!" Aiko bowed halfway over, her face pointed directly at the ground, her arms pinned to her side. She could hear the whole roof gasp. Or maybe that was her soul giving up its last breath and floating out of her body.
". . ." There was a stunned silence. Aiko couldn't see his face because she was bowing towards the ground. She couldn't read his mind because it was drawing a total blank. The stupid idiot! How long was he going to make her stand like this? I know your answer already. Answer me!
"Yes. Anything you want." The boy forced out. The crowd started clapping, and there were a few whistles of appreciation too. Most boys had to wait well past fifteen before they got their first girlfriend. He had just risen around 100 points in stock.
"Then, I'll meet you after school, at the shoe locker. Don't - - Don't be late." Aiko stuttered. As though you could be late to a shoe locker after school. And then she turned around and walked, very briskly, back to her lunch on the other side of the roof. She felt burning hot, and her hands were shaking. That was the hardest thing she'd ever done. I can't believe I did that. That was amazing.
"What brought this on? Love at first sight?" Sayuri asked excitedly when they had all sat down again.
"He's the only boy I can trust." Aiko was shaking too hard to hold her chopsticks correctly. She just buried them in the rice, not daring to lift it to her mouth. "The only one who thinks of me, not my. . ." Aiko blushed.
"Men are all wolves." Mizuki agreed. "They all come to watch our tennis matches, but they never watch the boy's tennis. It's so creepy."
"Not this man. Oh, I'm sure he's a wolf too. I know he is. But that's okay. Because he actually likes me. It's all the difference in the world." Aiko tried to take a bite of rice, but it fell into her lap. She sighed and put her lunchbox away. It just wasn't going to happen today.
"He's staring at your back right now." Sayuri reported.
"Is he blushing?" Aiko asked.
"Yes. He's totally red." Sayuri said.
"See? Then it's okay. A boyfriend can look at his girlfriend's back as long as he wants." Aiko defended him.
"Or other things?" Sayuri giggled.
"Or other things." Aiko agreed, her face burning hot. She had her romance. Now she just had to not screw it up. She had to keep getting better.
