"Everybody ready? To the release of the new characters and routes!"
"To the release!" we roared as the sound of clinking glasses filled the air. It was Friday night. There were four of us, male and female, celebrating
in the living room of my three-bedroom apartment.
The six-person round table I bought for just this sort of occasion was
laden with food and drinks. Homemade roast beef, the pizza we ordered, a pricey Shimane sake, twenty-year-old whiskey, and bottles of cola and oolong tea. It was a feast fit for a king.
There was even a cake in the fridge made by a top patissier at a bakery run by one of Sumire-sensei's friends. That patissier had studied in France.
We held a party like this every single week. This was our "Somehow, We Survived This Exhausting Week, So Let's Use The Opportunity To Reset And Get Ready To Survive Another One" party. Yes, that was this event's official name.
Sumire swallowed down her luxurious concoction of cola and whiskey before letting out a satisfied sigh.
"This stuff sure tastes better once your deadlines are over!"
"I seriously thought you weren't gonna make it this time," I sighed. Those bags under her eyes were the result of her staying up all night just
to get those darned illustrations finished. Side note: I was only really mean to her when she was lagging behind. At times like this, I had to remember that she was my teacher.
"You stink of alcohol!" Iroha giggled at her. "How many did you have before you came here?"
"Why would I remember somethin' like that? I mean, d'you remember how much you've had in your life, Iroha-chan?"
"Drinking's a big no-no for me, remember?! I'm not old like you!" "I'm not old, either! Not even thirty, I'll have you know!"
"Okie-dokie, if you say so! If you really were that old, I wouldn't tease you 'bout it though, 'kay? So when I stop is when you should get scared! Anyway, would you like somethin' else to drink?"
"Vodka on the rocks!" Sumire handed her empty glass to Iroha, who began to fill it up neatly.
Seeing how polite she could be with her elders, it was even more obvious how impolitely she behaved towards me.
"This beef's good! Did you make this, Aki?" Ozu asked.
"Yeah, I found a lifehack online on how to prepare one with a rice cooker."
"You're good around the house, huh? Y'know, this is even better than what you'd get in a restaurant."
"C'mon, quit actin' like you know anything about cooking. Think of those poor souls who work for years, only for you to say that my hack job is better."
Ozu and I munched on the food as we watched Iroha and Sumire chatting. I couldn't believe he was impressed by the cheap cut of beef I picked up at the store. He really was good at praising you for the smallest of things.
"'Sgood, though. Makes me jealous of Iroha, too. Once you two get married, she'll get to eat like this every day!"
"You can keep her. I'd probably die of stress by thirty if I had to live with her."
"Shame. I was hoping to set her up with someone with a billion talents like you. Take away my worries, y'know."
"I've already said that I'm really not as impressive as you. Any other programmer would've struggled to get the release ready in time."
"Especially with the art coming in right at the last minute. Luckily I got that program set up so that Kageishi-sensei's computer sends over the art the moment the coloring's done. By the time I'm putting it into the game, she's already fast asleep from exhaustion."
"I'm sorry, how exactly does that program work?"
"Oh, y'know. I just thought it'd be useful, so I bungled something together."
"I guess I shouldn't've asked..."
There were some things that were just beyond the scope of understanding for us mere mortals.
Ozu could read and write his programming languages as though he was born speaking it. He had always been incredibly good at numbers and calculations, though. He was our elementary school's top mathlete in the Mathematical Olympiad, and the mathematician who gave a running commentary on the whole event told me that Ozu was easily in the world's top ten.
"Honestly, my skills aren't that impressive," Ozu continued.
"Don't be so modest. I don't know anyone who comes close to your level of programming."
"Sure, but it doesn't matter what skills you have if you don't know how to use them properly. You were the one who set me on this path, and you're the reason I'm having such a good time right now, and the reason I'm drinking this ginger ale here, which is pretty decent. That's why you're more impressive to me."
"Don't start diggin' up the past now..."
"You're just embarrassed, ain'tcha?" Ozu laughed, gulping down the rest of his slightly-better-than-average ginger ale.
I didn't want to think too hard about Ozu's past, and I certainly didn't want to dig into it now, of all times. It was simply the tale of a big fish being confined to the small pond that was our national education system, and suffering because of it.
"By the way, where's Makigai-sensei?" Ozu asked suddenly.
I quickly opened up my phone, found Makigai Namako's account with its chibi sea cucumber profile picture (incidentally, 'Namako' also meant 'Sea Cucumber'), and showed Ozu the messages.
"He's got some novel deadline coming up, so said he couldn't make it."
I was 05th Floor Alliance's director. Ozu was the programmer and Sumire was the artist, but there was also one more member who played a huge role in the development of our game. Someone so influential, that it was nothing short of a miracle that he decided to join our team when no one had even heard of us, and we didn't have the advertising budget to change that.
Makigai Namako.
A light novel author whose work won first prize in a UZA Bunko competition three years ago. That work then went on to become a series which sold over three million copies, launching Makigai's career with a spectacular debut.
There was something about the sarcastic wit in his writing, and his strangely specific knowledge about sea creatures. What impressed most people was his engrossing and innovative style, as well as how he developed his main characters. Even though his series was wildly popular, he still refused again and again to have it adapted into a manga or anime series.
Somehow we managed to get the contact details for this modern-day Shakespeare, and could now converse with this mysterious author online. I was also a fan of his, having become completely hooked on his unique characters and stories.
I squeezed in my contact details and the request for him to write our scenarios in the corner of some fan mail I sent, figuring it couldn't hurt. I did what I could to make it inconspicuous so that his editors wouldn't stop it, and then, by some miracle, I got a response.
Now he was in the 05th Floor Alliance group chat, and we spoke with him as casually as anybody else. Though I'd never met him, judging by his voice on call he sounded like a friendly guy in his twenties.
"He's never used a deadline as an excuse to miss out on a party," Ozu commented.
"Hey, you're right. He's always typing up a storm whenever he joins us."
This was probably a good time to mention that he joined these parties virtually, via voice chat.
"Maybe it's just an excuse. D'you reckon his girlfriend's over or somethin'?"
"I feel like he'd prioritize the party over her... But whatever. Guess the ways of adults are incomprehensible to us kids."
"You guys talkin' shit about me?!" Sumire slurred. "Want me t'have a meltdown right here, right now?!"
She must've tuned in when she heard the word "adult." Not that I personally thought she had any right using that word to describe herself.
"No, we're talking about Makigai-sensei. H-Hey, stay away from me! We've been here like, two seconds! How much have you had?!"
"I'm having an awesome time right now! C'mon, Akiteru-sama, it's time for you to take care of me now! I feel all flushed..."
"Y'know if I reported this you'd get fired, right? H-Hey, quit it! Iroha! What the hell did you give her?!"
"Nothin'," Iroha replied with a shrug. "She just swiped the bottle off me. Probably had somethin' like ten shots of vodka."
"You gotta be kiddin' me. You could drink Rasputin under the table with that!"
"Chill! She watered down the second half with this stuff." Iroha shook a bottle of clear liquid out in front of me.
Well, if she watered it down, I guess that's... That's not water, is it?
"Isn't that sake?!"
"Waah, everything's twirling around me! Akiteru-sama, you look like a young boy! A beautiful shota..."
"Please, keep your hallucinations to yourself."
"Aaah! A tsundere shota! I can't take it!" Sumire began to push her flushed face against my body like an intoxicated cat.
You may wonder why a teenage boy like myself wasn't the least bit pleased about his hot teacher nuzzling so seductively against him. The answer was simple. The stink of the alcohol covered up any whiff of pheromones I might have gotten.
It was common to hear stories of men taking advantage of women in a state like this, but I never understood that. Who'd wanna lay a finger on someone who's completely wasted?
Sure, her skin was soft, and so was her chest, but apart from that, I wasn't feeling it at all.
"Aah, you're so cute! But there's somethin' missin', y'know? Oooh! Look! There's another shota over there!"
"M-Me?" Ozu stared at her blankly. No surprise. I'd never heard of a shota who attended public high school, either.
"Yeah! You have light hair, and you're so gentle! Just like a little prince! C'mere..."
"Uh... okay, I guess."
"No, Ozu! Stay back! You'll—"
Sumire-sensei tugged on Ozu's arm, and I found my face buried in his
chest.
"Yes, perfect! Now we have the super cold shota, Akiteru-sama,
comforted by the princely Ozuma-kun!"
There was the sound of clicking and heavy breathing as Sumire shuffled
back and took photos of the jumbled mess that was our two bodies squished
together.
"Ozuaki!" Iroha cried in joy. "Damn, you sure know how to pick a good
ship, Sumire-chan-sensei!"
"'Sgood, right? I can't take it! Aaah! I need another drink!"
The girls giggled with each other.
This was why Sumire wasn't a fun drunk to be around. This wasn't the
first time she claimed we were "shotas." It wasn't the first time she had managed to get me and Ozu into an outrageous pose for her delusional enjoyment, either.
We told her again and again that there was nothing between us and that it was annoying beyond belief, but the moment she had some alcohol in her system, her ship set sail once more. The drink stripped away the thin paint of her exterior to show her true colors. In her heart, she shipped us hardcore, and would like it even better if we were kids.
I guess everyone was entitled to their own fantasies. But when your teacher was getting turned on by you with another classmate, it was more than a little concerning.
"Sorry, Ozu. They're always like this." I sat up straight again, shuffling away from Ozu.
"I-I know. Don't worry about it."
"Nothin' fazes you, huh? You're allowed to get mad, y'know." "I get that, but I don't think she means anythin' by it, really." Ozu
shrugged, his cheeks slightly reddened. By the lighting in the room, of course. "What the hell?! Get back on top of him! Gimme some more of that
prepubescent yaoi! C'mon!"
"How about you snap back to reality before the police snap some cuffs on
you, huh?"
Sumire squealed like a strangled frog and fell to the floor as I gave her a
chop to the neck for good measure. She got up almost immediately, looking around the room in confusion.
"Wh-Where am I?"
"In the middle of committing grievous sexual harassment against your students."
"What? My 3D students? Ew, no way," she said sleepily.
"Wish I could blank out my memory as easily as you." I didn't want to bother with her any further, and cleared my throat loudly.
"Okay, guys, I have an announcement to make. A serious one," I said.
The room fell into silence, the party atmosphere swept away by a cold tension. Even Iroha shut up. She could be serious when she wanted to, just like the other members here. Working hard and playing hard was part of 05th Floor Alliance's motto. I swept my gaze over the faces in the room and began.
"I wanted to talk about the new resident, Tsukinomori Mashiro."
I launched straight into an explanation of everything that had happened up until now. About the deal I had with her dad, the whole fake-boyfriend thing, how she hated me, and how she now lived in the apartment next door and was likely looking for a fresh start.
More than anything, I explained how she didn't seem to be having fun at school, and how I wanted to fix that.
"I want her to join our group. Maybe I'm meddling, and maybe she doesn't even want to, but I just know there's a reason her dad asked me to look out for her, and I think this might be it, so... Will you guys help me?"
Silence. Nobody was looking at me. Instead, they had their heads down, as though deep in thought. The wall clock ticked by, made louder by the silence. One, two, three, four, five...
"Pfft!" I don't think I need to tell you, but that was Iroha. "Y'know, you're always sayin' how you only care about efficiency and yourself and stuff, but you still look out for other people like this!"
"Yeah, it's just like you to come up with somethin' like this," Ozu agreed. "Kind, but firm. It's hard to keep up with sometimes, actually. I guess you're proof that even tin men can have a heart sometimes."
"I like it. Mashiro-chan needs somewhere she can be herself. I'm sure that's what she wants, too," Sumire said.
"So, what's the plan, Senpai?"
"I wanna throw her a welcome party."
"Like this one?" asked Ozu.
"Yup. We'll invite her to one of these, and corrupt her with our cringey
conversations."
"D'you think she'll come, though?" Iroha said.
"No, which is why I have a plan. And I need your help with it."
"Ooh, that sounds super fun! Let's do it! Give us the briefing, boss! The
deets! The down-low!"
"Now listen closely..."
The walls were thick enough that we weren't at risk of being overheard, but I lowered my voice just in case, explaining the plan to them. I knew it was a nonsense plan, and it had no chance of succeeding... if we weren't the ones carrying it out, that was. The others didn't comment on its absurdity. They were clearly thinking the same thing as me.
"Omgosh! That sounds super fun!" Iroha exclaimed.
"I dunno, dude, that might be a lot for me to pull off, but I'll see what I can do."
"There'll be a reward in this for me, right?" Sumire asked.
I ignored her.
"So it's settled. Next Friday, eight o'clock. Don't be late." We looked at
each other and nodded. "We'll show her just how much we have it in for her!"
All together, the 05th Floor Alliance let out an ominous cheer. Time to invite Mashiro to our Friday evening party.
Saturday. Six days before the party.
I rang the doorbell. No response.
I rang twice more. No response.
I rang again and again and again and again and again and again and again and aga—
"S-Stop it. What do you think you're doing so early on a Saturday?" The castle door finally opened, revealing a drowsy, pajama-clad, bed-headed Princess Mashiro.
"Wanna come over to my place next Friday for a party?" I gave her my sweetest smile.
"Go away!"
Sunday. Five days before the party.
Click.
"Huh?"
Click, click, click.
"The bell's not workin'. Weird."
Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click.
Again and again I rang the bell, but ring the bell did not. Neither did it summon its master.
No way she unplugged it...
How dare she learn from experience? If I couldn't get her to answer the door, there was no way I could invite her to the party.
I decided to leave it for the day.
Just kidding.
Instead, I took the thirty posters I printed about the party and stuffed them
all through her mail slot.
Monday. Four days before the party.
"Can I talk to you?"
I scribbled on a page of my notebook, scrunched it up, and tossed it at Mashiro at her desk next to mine. I watched her pout as she read it before turning her attention back to the blackboard.
After a second, she seemed to change her mind. Writing down something on the note, she tore it off and sent it flying back in my direction with an aim that didn't seem to care whether it hit me in the face or not.
"What was with all those posters yesterday? Are you trying to harass me?"
"If you'd read them, you'd know I was trying to invite you to a party."
"Stuffing trash through my mail slot isn't exactly inviting, and... never mind. Just leave me alone."
"By the way, what's your LIME ID? It'd be easier if I could text you instead of having to write notes."
"No. Bye."
Well, I tried.
It looked like forced kidnapping was going to be the only way to get Snow White out of her impregnable fortress. I wasn't about to worry, though. I still had time to make this work.
Tuesday. Three days before the party.
"So anyway, about Fri—"
"Don't talk to me in the classroom."
Wednesday. Two days before the party.
"So anyway, about Fri—"
"Don't talk to me in the hallways. Also, stop stalking me."
Thursday. One day before the party.
"So anyway, about Fri—uh, tomorrow, I guess..."
No reaction.
"I'm holdin' a little welcome party for you. We'll order some pizza, get
some drinks... Sumire-sensei will be the only one with alcohol, of course. Since you're my neighbor and all, I was thinkin' we could try and get along, y'know?"
"Listen..."
A response! Finally, after all these years! (Well, days.)
"This is probably the worst place you could've chosen to pick up a girl." Ugh. Is it so wrong to try and pick up girls in front of a bathroom? I hoped
that if I caught her when her need was highest, she'd let down her guard and accidentally say yes.
The area was steadily getting busier, and more and more people were starting to witness me trying to stop this girl going into the bathroom. I could feel their suspicious gazes on the back of my neck. It was only a matter of time before someone'd run and get a teacher.
I turned on my heel and suavely walked away. Everyone fell for it, probably.
In the end, though I tried again and again to invite Mashiro, nothing I did managed to pull her away from her commitment to solitude.
***
It was the evening before the party. After school, I stopped off at a nearby supermarket.
Food seemed to be appearing in my cart as I pushed it along. The source? Iroha, of course, who was fetching items left, right, and center.
Carrots, onions, potatoes, meat and sides, as well as several bottles of tea and water. Also, mountains of snacks, which I was sure were only to her
tastes and no one else's.
"I can't wait for tomorrow's party!" Iroha said, shooting me an innocent
smile.
She was still in her uniform, and today, didn't have her headphones on her
(or any missing buttons, for that matter). She still had an air of stylishness about her, but overall she was giving off her perfect teacher's pet vibe.
It all seemed so horribly fake to me.
"You can be yourself, y'know? You don't have to put on that sweetie-pie act just 'cause there's a lot of people around."
"Silly Senpai. I get discounts and stuff this way! Which means you get to pay less, too."
"I guess..."
I saw these parties as a way to invest in my relationships, and I didn't want to spare any expense. That said, shaving off a little cost here or there wouldn't hurt either.
Coming shopping with Iroha in her teacher's pet mode wasn't exactly how I wanted to get those discounts, though.
"Oh my! You two are looking as cute together as always!"
"Hello!" Iroha greeted the lady who was giving out free samples.
"My, you're always so polite, Iroha-chan! You've really gotten lucky with
her, Aki-kun!"
"R-Right, but we're not actually—"
"No need to be shy, my dear!" the lady said, patting me kindly on the
shoulder.
This was exactly why I didn't like coming here with Iroha. I bumped into
her here a lot, too, which was no wonder since we lived in the same building. At first, we decided to go around the store together just because we were there at the same time anyway, but at some point we ended up coming here together.
Unfortunately, that led the women who worked here (and who had been for several years) to believe that we were a young couple who just loved to go shopping together.
But wait, there's more!
"So these sausages are from Germany or something?" Iroha asked. "That's right. They're thick and juicy, with a good texture. Here, try
some!"
"Wow, it's delicious! What's this gooey stuff inside it?" Iroha nibbled at the sausage enthusiastically.
I checked the package just to make sure she wasn't trying to make an obscure euphemism, and was relieved to find that there was cheese sauce in there. That didn't stop her turning to me with a covert grin, though.
"Wanna try some, Senpai? Here, open wide!" She held out the toothpick towards me.
"Quit it."
"No need to be shy!" the saleswoman repeated.
Iroha giggled as I pushed her hand away, smiling as a wife does to her
grumpy husband. "Oopsie!"
"Oh, how mean you are to your girlfriend, Aki-kun! You should treat her
with more care!"
Gimme a break.
There it was, this unrelated woman sticking her nose into a relationship that didn't even exist. This happened whenever I reacted coldly to Iroha's teasing. I just didn't get it. Well, maybe this was what a couple looked like to other people. Not that I was an expert on the topic of couples, anyway.
It was just so incredibly annoying how everyone decided we were a couple. If I tried to deny it, they just told me to stop being shy. Facts had no place in their post-truth fantasies.
Not wanting to come shopping with Iroha alone, I'd invited Ozu, too. "No thanks. Third-wheeling isn't really a good look."
He was out. For some reason, he was under the impression that I enjoyed
Iroha's company.
Anyway, while I was busy with this inner monologue, there was still a
sausage being pushed into my face.
Iroha was staring at me behind the steam rising up from the fragrant
smoked meat, her eyes shining. "Aren't you gonna eat it, Senpai?"
Image Here
"No. Come on."
"...Oh." She looked away, dejected.
Her hand holding the sausage drooped. The saleswoman's eyes were
frosty. As though they could sense the awkwardness in the air, shoppers passing by were glancing in our direction, though they quickly lost interest once they saw nothing exciting was going on.
The unbearable silence continued, broken only by Iroha's quiet whimpering.
"Ugh, fine! I'll eat the damn sausage!" I held out my hand with a huff, not able to take it any longer.
Iroha shook her head, holding the tender wiener close to her heart. "It's fine... I'm sorry for being pushy."
"N-No, I do want it."
"R-Really? Then... I want you to show me. I want you to beg me for this sausage from the bottom of your heart. Pitch your desire to me like you're in a business meeting."
The audacity of this bitch! Did she realize we were in public right now? And she even lowered her voice so the saleslady wouldn't hear. Under her sweet, innocent mask, I could tell she had the most devilish grin on her face.
I didn't want to give in to her. But I couldn't go off at her in a crowded place like this, either.
"Oh, I would love to eat your sausage. I want it from the very depths of my being."
"I told you to pitch it."
"According to a survey conducted by me, and asked to me, 98% of me wants to eat the sausage, and 84% of me wants you to feed it to me. Can't argue with those numbers, can you?"
In the face of my astounding scientific findings, Iroha slapped her hand to her mouth and looked away. I could see her whole body trembling. So she was laughing at my expense now, was she?
I wasn't about to forget this in a hurry.
"O-Okay, you did good. I didn't think you'd actually do it, though," Iroha giggled.
"Excuse me, miss," I addressed the saleslady. "See how she's laughing at me? Don't you get it now? The truth is, Iroha isn't actually—"
"Welcome! Would you like to try some of our special cheesy sausage
today?"
Dammit! She was so concerned with those sausages, she missed Iroha
showing her true colors! Why couldn't she stick her nose in our business when it actually mattered?! Or did Iroha have some kind of force field which made her invisible whenever she wanted to be an ass?
I chomped at the sausage while cursing the heavens above.
"How is it, Senpai?"
"It's delicious."
"Aaah! I knew you liked sausages! I love it when you quit being so
stubborn!" Iroha grinned at me while the saleswoman wasn't looking. "My love of meat doesn't make you any less annoying." The juicy meat
caressing my taste buds was the one thing I couldn't complain about right now. I just hated the way Iroha boasted about it. "Also, stop saying the word 'love.' You don't love anything about me."
"But I do love you! It's not somethin' I tell just anyone, y'know!" "You're like the polar opposite of her. You know that?"
"Huh? You mean Mashiro-senpai?"
"Yup. All she ever talks about is how much she hates me. Well, when she
talks at all, that is."
Iroha saying she loved me when nothing could be further from the truth
was annoying, but so was Mashiro saying she hated me when I'd done nothing to deserve it. If only I could find myself a girl who sat somewhere in the middle, but fate was rarely so kind.
"Oh, that reminds me! She still hasn't said she'll come to the party, has she?" Iroha asked as she stretched up to grab a can of tomato juice from a high shelf.
"Nope."
I asked Ozu and Sumire to help me out with the party and everything, too. Meanwhile, Iroha was in charge of cooking and getting us some side dishes. The only thing holding us back was my failure to get Mashiro interested in coming at all.
"She ignores me whenever she can. I dunno what I can do about it, really."
Iroha gave a thoughtful hum as she continued jumping for the juice. "Y'know, Senpai, maybe you're being too nice to her."
"Huh?"
"I know your plan was to be as super annoying as possible, but I know you can be way more annoying than what I've seen... Grr."
No matter how many times she jumped, Iroha still couldn't get her hands on the tomato juice. She glared at the top shelf, as though it were responsible for all her life problems.
"You're always really annoying with me and the others, after all. Remember when you were trying to get us on board with the whole Honeyplace Works thing?"
"Well, yeah. That was 'cause it was the best option for all of us. I had to be persistent with that one."
"Yeah, and you convinced us all in the end, right? It was like... you knew just what we were good at, or what we all wanted out of life without even havin' to ask."
"I just don't like it when people are forced to change or give things up to conform to others' standards. I mean, imagine having a dream, or a certain talent which you can't make use of because your environment won't allow it. It's just dumb."
"Yeah, and while we were all worrying about how our dreams were unrealistic, you helped us snap out of it and realize that we could achieve what we wanted. That's why you're the best producer in the world. Okay..." Iroha gave one last leap and reached out as far as she could. This time, the tomato juice made it into her hands. "Yes! ...Ah... Aaaah!"
She failed to stick the landing. She lost her balance, began to wobble, and was about to crash into the shelves. Much as she annoyed me, I wasn't about to let her fall. I wrapped my arms around her stomach to keep her in place.
"Be careful, dumbass!"
"Haha! Thanks!" Iroha grinned at me, holding the can of tomato juice close to her heart. "But seriously, you saved us from making a serious mistake once we left school. That's why Ozuma likes you so much, too. I know you were kinda worried that Mashiro-senpai doesn't want friends, or that you're comin' on too strong, but honestly I think your instincts are right on this one. They always are, after all."
"So you're saying I should go all out? Yeah, I guess I was holdin' back a little before..."
I thought that a calm and logical approach to the whole thing would go down better, but maybe I wasn't really making the best use of my talents. I
realized now that letting Mashiro decide to join us herself wasn't gonna work. As long as I believed this was the right path for her, I was the one who had to give it my all to show her that. Mashiro needed this. She needed our friendship to have a brighter future. If I had to annoy her extra hard temporarily to make it happen, then so be it.
I thought back to when I suggested to the other members of 05th Floor Alliance that we should aim for a job at Honeyplace Works. Ozu and Sumire looked at me like I was crazy. They said it was impossible, but when I convinced them it was what was best for all of us, they eventually came around.
Firstly, there was Ozu, a young man with extraordinary talent, but who could only communicate with a small group of people. Those people being me, his family, and any human with a certain level of intelligence.
Then there was Sumire, a naturally creative woman who loved to draw ever since she was little. Though she was a talented artist, she was pressured into becoming a teacher because teaching was what her family had always done.
It was because I convinced Tsukinomori-san and took away every obstacle to achieving their dreams, that they now had an unconditional offer to join Honeyplace Works. They didn't even need to take a test for it. (Good for them.)
Considering the extreme lengths I was going to for that, it was no wonder that Iroha thought I was holding back with Mashiro this past week. Once she was stable, I let go of Iroha and took the can of tomato juice from her.
"Thanks, Iroha. You've opened my eyes."
"Yes! I love it when you get serious! I can't wait to see what happens!" Iroha shot me a sinister, fun-loving grin. And for once, I grinned right back at her.
Prepare yourself, Mashiro. I'm not about to leave you alone, even if you end up hating me more than anyone else. I'm about to show you the most efficient way to make friends and live a fun, happy school life!
I had it in for her now.
***
"Sounds like you're really gettin' fired up now," Ozu said. "I can't wait to see what you've got in store!"
"I dunno how far I'll be able to take it, but you can bet I'm goin' all out!"