Scene One: Cold Takoyaki
Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2015 3:25 am
by Valjean Lafitte
Cold Takoyaki
I'm taking too long to eat.
At least, that's what the glare on Shicchan's face is telling me, has been telling me for the last plate or so.
I hurriedly gulp down another steaming forkful of beef yakisoba, too hurriedly to avoid the clumps of soggy cabbage that I'd normally spit out. It tastes great, but the long, hot noodles burn my throat as they wriggle down, and I can't slow down to chew my food, much less enjoy it. Not with the intense look Shicchan is giving me. With her arms folded across her chest and the wide sleeves of her red yukata draped over stomach, I'm struck by how cute, if angry she looks: like a disconcerted angel.
I helped her pick out that yukata yesterday when we were shopping. I've always found that red suits her, though it's not one of her favorite colors. I happen to love red myself, but as with most things it looks better on her than me, and I'm glad that I agreed to wear the green yukata with yellow obi she picked out for me to wear--in fact, I think we look really, really cute together! But, right now Shicchan is not trying to be cute: that face she's making means business.
With a loud gulp, I swallow the last mouthful of greasy fried noodles and wash it down with a chug of strawberry soda.
[Finished so soon?] she signs, with a sarcastic look on her face. Oh boy, here it comes... not that I don’t sort of deserve it after five plates of fried noodles.
[We didn't spend a week organizing this festival just so we could sit around and eat all night! It's already 8:30, and if we don't hurry we won't have time to do much else before the fireworks begin.]
She's right, of course, and now I really do wish that I had exercised more self-control. How could I lose track of time so easily? I didn't even enjoy that last serving!
[Honestly, Misha, did you really need one more plate?]
Her signing is rapid and forceful, but there's the tiniest hint of a smile growing at the corner of her lips. Of course she's not angry at me. Shicchan could never really be angry at me.
"And that wasn't even the last of it," Hicchan says, gesturing to a few uneaten items left on my tray. Hey, no one asked him!
Sorry~! Sorry~!" I respond sheepishly. "The food is just so tasty this year, Shicchan, I couldn't help myself~! Too many tasty seasonings, too many high-quality ingredients... Personally, I blame the organizers of the festival~." This last remark causes Hicchan to laugh while Shicchan suppresses a giggle; it was, after all, me who lobbied the school board for a bigger food budget this year.
"So~, what now?" I ask. "Games?" I pose the question to change the subject, really, not because I don't already know her answer. Of course Shicchan will want to play some booth games--it wouldn't be Tanabata for her if we didn't! She nods cheerily.
I like our festival games, but I've never been skilled enough to win anything; most of the ones here involve aiming at and hitting things, and my arms tire out too quickly for that sort of thing. But, I think I know someone whose throwing arm's not too shabby...
"Wahaha~! So, are we going to make Hicchan put his muscles to work at winning prizes for us?"
I follow this with a poke to Hicchan's ribs, which he doesn't seem to appreciate.
"What, again?", he sighs. "Why can't the two of you win your own damn prizes? They hiked the price of that bottle game, you know. It's 200 yen per round this time, and I'm not exactly made of money..."
Hicchan looks rattled: mission successful!
"Wahahaha~! You're not, Hicchan, really? Hm!"
"That's right. I'm not," he states matter-of-factly, burying his hands in his pockets.
"Okay, okay, but~! You still owe me a stuffed toy, remember? It's not fair that Shicchan got one last time but not me!"
I put on my best "pouting puppy dog" face, hoping it will guilt him into agreement, but it doesn't look like he's buying it.
"Yeah, I don't think so. Besides, didn't we already agree that we'd each take care of our own expenses this time?"
Shicchan adjusts her glasses. [I don't remember deciding that,] she says. [As Student Council President, I think I'd remember making such an important executive decision.]
He frowns. "Okay, one, I don't think that's the kind of thing you're supposed to "executively" decide for us. Two, I'm really not kidding about being pressed for cash for this week. Look, see for yourself..."
He removes his wallet from his back pocket and opens it wide, displaying its contents for us: 450 yen, which is really just enough for two games and maybe a soda. Poor Hicchan! Maybe I shouldn't have joked about getting a stuffed toy from him; I wouldn't want him to waste the last of his money on me, even if he offered to!
[I guess you'll just have to try your hardest, Hisao,] Shicchan signs with an added shrug.
For a moment, Hicchan appears totally stunned. Clearly he expected more sympathy from Shicchan than what she's giving him!
"You're kidding, right? Come on, am I really expected to spend the last of my money on winning prizes for you two?"
Shiichan says nothing in response. I want to answer "Of course not!", but one 'death glare' from Shicchan later and I decide to hold my tongue.
"...Really?" he signs shakily. Judging from the look on his face, he doesn't seem to realize that she's probably just teasing him. Probably.
[Don't worry. Misha and I both have the utmost confidence in you,] she continues with a nearly deadpan expression.
Shicchan will sometimes sign her words slowly, with smooth, deliberate movements that are supposed to indicate sarcasm; most deaf people rely on facial expressions to express irony, but Shicchan? She's not like most people. The problem is, because she can be so subtle, there are times when even I can't tell whether or not she's kidding. This is one of those of times. Maybe she's signing slowly because she knows he's still struggling with the basics of the language? I hope for Hicchan's sake that she is.
Whether she's joking or not, the tension caused by her words is real, and as a result Hicchan looks pale and deflated. He hangs his head low and nods slowly in defeat. This is a little too mean of Shicchan, and I nearly say so when she lets out a tiny, audible laugh (or as close to a laugh as she's comfortable with).
[Lighten up, will you? I was only playing. We're each going to play with our own money, all right?]
I nod in agreement while Hicchan lets out a deep sigh of relief.
Shicchan goes too far sometimes. It's fun to tease people every now and then, but only when they know you're joking. And even if they take you too seriously, you shouldn't keep poking and pushing at them until they break. The problem with Shicchan is that sometimes she doesn't seem to know when to back off, which I think is why some of our classmates don't like her; ironically, though, it was that same steely boldness that first attracted me to her. She's proper and polite--a lot like me--but she can also tell you exactly what's on her mind without flinching--very unlike me. If only I were so brave!
Hicchan and Shicchan rise from their seats. [Come on, let's go!] she says, extending an arm to help me up from my seat, as though I needed her help to stand after such a big meal. You know very well I didn't eat that much, Shicchan!
[One more plate and we might have had to roll you there.]
Wahaha, very funny.
I grab her hand and pull myself up from the wooden bench; my butt aches after sitting there for so long. But, once I'm up from the table I look back at it and remember the small tray of uneaten food I'm abandoning: takoyaki dumplings, a dozen of them.
"But Shicchan~... what about my takoyaki? I can't just let them go to waste, they cost 700 yen!" I cry as I gaze longingly at the side of takoyaki I ordered, each octopus ball lovingly topped off with a layer of thick, savory miso. Hicchan cringed earlier as he watched me spread the bean paste over the top of each one, but he just doesn't know what he's missing!
[Oh, those? I guess Hisao will have to stay here and finish them off,] she signs with a shrug.
[I'm sure he'll catch up to us in no time.]
Ha! Serves him right for crinkling his nose at my excellent culinary taste.
"Wahahaha! Enjoy, Hicchan~!" I tease as I walk back to the table, pick up a dumpling, and dangle it in front of his face. His expression shifts from disgust, to horror, then outrage.
"Ew, what?! No way!" he retorts.
[It isn't right to let food go to waste. Someone slaved over that dish, and Misha paid a lot for it. The least you could do is eat it without complaining.]
"You say that as if I have nothing to gripe about," he mutters, gesturing to my uneaten side dish.
[It's only Takoyaki. Who doesn't like takoyaki, even when it's cold?]
"But with bean paste?"
[So scrape it off. Really, Hisao, you can be such a crybaby,] she signs, rolling her eyes.
Hicchan folds his arms and sulks at this last remark of hers--like a true crybaby!
[As I said before, you'll catch up with us in no time.]
"Catch up with you? I'll be lucky if I can even walk after eating these. Just looking at them makes me feel as though I'll keel over any second now."
I turn to Shicchan and sign [Hicchan is such a drama queen].
"Hey, I heard that! Er-well... saw it."
"Wahahaha! Well, it's true~!"
[Be that as it may, Mr. "Drama Queen", if you're still able and willing to play a few games after finishing Misha's leftovers, don't worry--she and I will try our best to leave a couple of unclaimed prizes for you,] she signs with a playful grin.
"Oh? That's quite generous of you, considering how badly I want a stuffed teddy bear."
"Wahaha! You do, Hicchan, really~?" I laugh.
"Sarcasm, Misha..."
"Oh..."
"Anyway, why am I the one who has to stay behind and finish her gross food?" he asks, turning back to Shicchan.
His question gives Shicchan pause for thought, and it takes her a few moments to deliver a response.
[Because.]
"'Because is not an answer."
[It's absolutely an answer... just not the one you wanted.]
Hicchan struggles with this remark for a moment or two, running a hand through his hair as he wracks his brain for a comeback. Realizing he has none, he settles for flashing a dirty look at Shicchan. She smiles victoriously as he sighs, and picking up single chopstick, begins using it to scrape the miso from one of a dozen dumplings set before him.
Oh Hicchan, you give up far, far too easily.
In the end, you always surrender Australia, even when you have the all the might of Europe behind you. If you would at least adopt the attitude of Switzerland you might get somewhere with Shicchan; even if she prefers her men to be bloodthirsty fighters, she can at least respect neutrality as a policy. But no, all too often you launch a decent counter-offensive only to surrender halfway through the battle, and that's no good if you want to win Shicchan's heart.
Too bad I'll never tell you that.
You'll have to figure her out on your own like I did.
"But--" Hicchan begins again, furiously slamming his miso-covered chopstick down on the table.
"Wahah~! No "buts", Hicchan--that's a student council rule, you know!"
"I swear, the two of you just make new "rules" whenever it suits you," I hear him grumble as I grab Shizune's hand and we begin to march toward our destination. Looking over my shoulder, I stick my tongue out at him, to which he responds by rolling his eyes.
Oh Hicchan, you're so much fun to mess around with!
Re: The Third Star - A Misha epilogue
Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 5:23 am
by Valjean Lafitte
Well, here it is: the next part of the story. It's 7 months overdue, but hey--better later than never, right? I actually wrote this scene a long time ago, but I never felt that it was ready to share. It just raises too many questions; questions that I can't answer now, that aren't supposed to be answered until later in the story. But, in my rush to get this thread updated while the Yamaku Book Club were still in their Misha period (which, sadly, just ended an hour or so ago), I think I might have managed to make it a little more presentable... maybe. Here it is anyway, for better or for worse. Even though I'm still not totally satisfied with the way it turned out, hopefully by releasing it out into the wild I'll be inspired to write more.
As much as I enjoy kidding around with Hicchan, I can't say I'm not thankful for an opportunity to be alone with Shicchan.
Well, as alone as two can be at a school festival, anyway.
Everywhere we look there are festivalgoers hustling and bustling from one tent to another, trying to see all there is to see before midnight. To the right of us, along the main school building, are food vendors selling their wares: yakitori and ikayaki served straight off the grill, crispy karaage, and for dessert, one of my favorites: karumeyaki! The sweet aroma of the caramel treat gives me another reason to be thankful--that Shicchan can't hear my stomach growling!
On the east end of the grounds, there are rows of stalls selling snow cones, wooden masks, and all the usual fixings of a summer festival. I briefly consider buying funny masks for Shicchan and me to wear, but think better of it when I notice Miss Satou loitering around the stand, trying on masks with her sister, Akira. What does that rude woman need with a mask, anyway? After all, half the fun of trying one on comes from seeing yourself in the mirror. With all the slacking off she did in the last few weeks, she ought to be helping the festival workers and not horsing around.
Hoping to avoid a nasty confrontation, I attempt to steer Shicchan away from the stand before she and the Satous can notice each other.
Pulling her hand away, Shicchan asks where I'm leading her in such a hurry. I quickly scan the area for something, anything nearby that's far enough from sight of Miss Satou; the last thing I want is to wear out my arms doing rapid-fire translations for Shicchan before we even reach the game booths!
Luckily, it only takes me a second or two to spot something interesting enough to point at.
[I wanna see what's up with that little tent over there, Shicchan. I don't remember it, do you?]
Behind the booths and tables, tucked away in the shadows of the east wall, is a small brown tent that I don't recall seeing this afternoon when we were helping to set the stalls up.
Shicchan shakes her head. [No. That definitely was not there earlier,] she signs.
How mysterious! She takes hold of my hand and we press on in the direction of the tent, stopping just before its entrance.
[Those lights are a bit much, don't you think?], she asks.
Hanging around the apex of the tent is a string of brightly-lit lanterns; each light on the chain alternates between red and blue, casting a strobe-like effect on the surrounding area.
It looks tacky, sure, but I also think the lanterns' purplish glow lends an eerie vibe to the structure.
[Actually, I think it looks kinda spooky. But what is it, anyway?]
Shicchan points upward, to a small, hand-painted sign hanging above the black drapes that cover the entrance: "Madame Hitomi's All-Seeing Eye of Divination".
[Some sort of fortune-teller, I think.]
Beneath the title is a painting of a golden eye encircled by a light brown dragon. The dragon is smiling but not in a very trustworthy way. More like a "get too close to me and I might steal your princess, mwahaha" kind of way. The art style is cute and the colors bright and vivid, yet there's something off-putting about the picture that I can't quite put my finger on.
[A fortune-teller, huh...]
Something is compelling me to go inside, despite this feeling of uneasiness.
[Shicchan... this is our last Tanabata before school ends, and for as long as I've been on the Student Council with you, I don't think I've ever been to one of these!]
A look of surprise sets on Shicchan's face which, in turn, surprises me: after all the festivals we've been through, did she really not know that?
A sparkle appears in her eyes, and she smiles playfully. [Well then, we'll just have to rectify that, won't we Miss Mikado?] she says.
I feel a tingle run down my spine. Miss Mikado! God, it's been forever since she called me that! She only addresses me formally when she's feeling especially playful, and never in front of Hicchan. It's a me-and-Shicchan thing that a boy like him could never understand.
Returning the smile, I part the silk curtains and allow "Miss Hakamichi" to enter first.
************************************************************************************
As small as the tent looked on the outside, to say that it seems smaller on the inside would be a massive understatement.
A mere three feet from us is a small, bearded old man in a cloak sitting at a table. The table is empty save for a huge crystal ball encircled by five small candlesticks. The light of the candles does little to illuminate the old man's face, which is partly obscured in shadow by the hood of his cloak. Though I can't see his eyes, I feel as though he is staring right at me... or maybe through me. I've never seen this man before, but there is a cold yet strangely familiar air to his presence, and it's giving me goosebumps.
I suddenly regret coming here.
I turn to Shicchan to tell her I've changed my mind about getting my fortune read, but her amused expression tells me there is no going back now. If I know her, she must be thinking this is all so hilariously cliche: the tent, the bearded old man surrounded by candles. She's thinking how ridiculous this is.
Maybe it is.
Maybe I just had a little too much yakisoba. After all, who wouldn't feel a little uneasy after eating so much?
Suddenly, a gust of wind blows in from nowhere, extinguishing one of the candles nearest us. The old man begins stroking his white beard with a slender, black-gloved hand, as the corners of his mouth turn slowly upward to reveal a toothy grin.
Dammit.
"Ohhhh, such pretty young girls have come to see me this evening," he whispers, his trembling hand coarsely gripping and releasing the pointy tip of his beard.
"Such pretty, pretty young girls..." he repeats, then licks his upper lip.
The cloaked man wearing black gloves just licked his upper lip.
He licked it.
Deciding there are better ways to spend Tanabata night than being raped and murdered in the middle of a noisy festival where no one can you scream, I grab Shicchan's hand and make a quick dash towards the exit!
"Wait!" cries out the old pervert. "Wouldn't your pretty little blue-haired friend like to have her fortune told?"
I stop, then turn back around to face him again. Who is this man and how did he know to address me and not her?
Not looking the least bit afraid, Shicchan looks to me for a translation, and after a few moments of hesitation, I give her one. She then turns to the old man and bows deeply.
[We were hoping to get our fortunes told, sir, but we were under the impression that the proprietor of this establishment was one Madame Hitomi. Are you perhaps standing in for her tonight?]
So polite, Shicchan, even in the face of death, rape, and dismemberment! I try as best I can to preserve the well-mannered nuance of her question in my translation. Upon hearing the name of Madame Hitomi, the old man flashes another creepy grin.
"Ohhhh yes, yes, Madame Hitomi is my twin sister, in fact," he laughs. "And no, no, she is not here tonight, I am afraid. Couldn't be here, no, no..."
Right.
"But do not be alarmed, young ones, do not be alarmed, for I am merely filling in for her as she lay sick in bed with a summer cold."
"Allow me to introduce myself: I am called Monsieur Mori of the Darkness Void, and... just like my sister, Madame Hitomi of the Eternity Chasm... I... see... all!" he cries, raising trembling hands high above his crystal ball.
"Aaallllll!" he repeats, then cackles like an old witch.
I look over at Shicchan. She's really fighting to keep a straight face, I can tell.
It looks like she's losing the battle.
I look back at the old man, who's still laughing, and I suddenly feel very, very silly. Wasn't I trying to run from this kook only a minute ago? Yet now I feel like I'm watching a scene out of a bad foreign film. The only things missing here are lightning bolts and a hunchbacked assistant. How could I have been afraid of this weirdo, even for a moment? 'Monsieur' Mori? Who does he think he's kidding? I sign the word for "nutcase" to Shicchan, but she just urges me to continue playing along with him. Well... I wasn't playing before, but she doesn't need to know that, so I nod in agreement.
All right then, let's have some fun with this old man.
"All, really~?" As in everything~?" I ask him in my most charming, innocent voice.
The smile suddenly drops from his face. Maybe he senses our skepticism.
"That's what 'all' means, little girl. It means I can see everything past, present, and future, and for only 3,500 yen a reading," he says, leaning back in his chair.
Shicchan's eyes widen upon seeing his rate. [3,500?!]
"Wahaha, that's amazing, Monsieur Mori, really! But~! At such a steep price, you don't really expect us to do business with you without first giving us a demonstration of your powers, do you~?"
He spends a minute or so stroking his beard and hemming and hawing--clearly hesitant to show us his "powers" before he gets any of our money.
"No, no, I suppose not. Very well, I'll tell you something about yourself that, if I were lying to you and not truly a seer of all, I would not be able to tell you."
With a smile, I nod and gesture at him to continue. Shicchan, meanwhile, is looking way too eager to see this guy fail: practically giddy, really. But I've always been a little more open-minded than she is about psychics and stuff. Who knows, maybe he'll turn out to be the real deal?
"Now, I want you to think of a kind of food: your favorite type of food in the whole world, in fact. Simply nod when you think of it, and try to hold the image in your head."
Doing this, I nod.
"It's a dessert, isn't it?"
"Aw... yes, it is, but how did you guess?"
"I didn't guess," he replies and leaning forward, whispers "I saw it!"
Oh, he did not just say that!
"Are you saying I'm fat, mister~?" I demand, planting my hands squarely on my hips. "Are you?!"
"Oh, never mind that!" he snaps back. "Do you want to know what the dessert was?"
"Wahaha~! My tastes are so specific, you'll never-"
"A strawberry parfait with caramel sauce and pralin."
Both Shicchan's and my jaw drops. That... was exactly what I was thinking.
[Shicchan, how could he know that? That was so specific!]
She shrugs, then reaches to open her purse.
[You're really going to...?]
She rolls hers eyes and snaps her purse closed again. [Misha, do you want your fortune read or not? You already told the man you wanted proof, and that's just what he gave you. Right?]
[Right... but I only asked him because I knew you wanted to prove he was a faker. I didn't expect him to actually get it right...]
Shicchan smiles. [Then all the more reason for us to give him our business!] She reaches into her purse and pulls out 7,000 yen, enough for the both of us.
[I'll pay you back soon, Shicchan, I promise...]
With a mischievous grin, she signs [You better] and takes a seat at the end of the table, facing the old man.
While Shicchan seems eager to play along here, I still don't know if I can trust this person.
How is it that he seemed to know that Shicchan was deaf, even before she signed anything?
How did know what my exact favorite dessert is?
I can still feel his eyes boring into me, even though he's now facing Shicchan. What else does this mystery man know about me?
I'm suddenly snapped out of these worrisome thoughts by the old man's voice. Very loudly, and with his black-gloved hands running wildly around the surface of his crystal ball, he begins to read Shicchan's fortune, and I rush to the side of the table so that Shicchan can see my translations clearly.
"You were born deaf to a wealthy family. Your mother died when you were young..."
Grim way to start, but right on both counts. However, Shicchan looks somewhat unimpressed.
"You are a natural-born leader. Student Council President, yes? You strive for excellence in everything you set your hands to and are known to push others to do the same. In fact, some would say you push a little too hard..."
Shicchan's expression isn't as easy to read as it was a moment ago. But she's continuously wiping her always-spotless glasses with the sleeve of her yukata, a sure sign that she's actually flustered by how accurately he is reading her. If he knows this much about her, what will he say about me when it's my turn?
"I see love in your future..."
Shicchan's face turns bright red. Could he be...?
"Your future lover is not very far away, actually."
My heart skips a beat, and in one moment I suddenly find all of my naive hopes for tonight hanging on for dear life on the medium's next words.
"I see a tall, handsome young man in your future. I see... marriage? Children? Your future is cloudy on these points, but all in all, it looks happy and bright," he concludes, taking one hand off his crystal ball and the other off of the knife in my heart.
Hicchan. Of course, Hicchan. How could things ever be different between Shicchan and I, even when it's just us, even on Tanabata?
Shicchan stands up and bows. With a heavy heart I plop myself down on to the chair. At least she looks happy with her fortune.
"Ohhh, don't look so glum, child...", I hear a whisper from across the table.
"What are you talking about~? I'm not glum!" I laugh. Damn this guy and his keen sense of perception!
"At least not until I give you something to be glum about," he unexpectedly hisses, leaning forward with a fiendish, toothy grin.
Whatever is coming next can't be good. I want to cover my ears, but I wouldn't be able to stand the embarrassment in front of Shicchan. So...
"You're a dreamer. A hopeless, pitiable dreamer, always chasing after what you know in your heart is unattainable."
I won't translate this for Shicchan; I can't. I can't even think of a lie to sign instead, so I just let my arms hang limp as I await the inevitable.
"The object of your affections is close, too, much closer than the handsome boy of your friend's dreams. Why do you persist after this unrequiting lover? Why do you continue to hurt yourself by clinging on to the barest of false hopes?"
I want to disappear.
"You're chasing after fairy tales, but there is no happy in ending in your future. Your only hope is to stop believing in fairy tales, Misha. Grow up."
A chill shoots down my spine as I hear him utter my name. Why, though? After he got everything else right...
"...Is that all?" I ask weakly. Please, let it end.
He nods solemnly, and I quickly get up and turn towards the exit.
[Thank you very much, sir! You are an exceptional fortune-teller, and I will be certain to recommend you to all of my friends!] Shicchan enthusiastically signs, an enormous smile on her face. It must be nice to hear that there's love in your future, Shicchan. Tell me about it sometime.
"She says thank you very much~!" I can just barely muster the willpower to translate it for her as we pass through the curtain.
"Anytime, anytime!" I hear him cackle from behind us.
Suddenly, Shicchan darts back through the curtain, and--
--attacks the old man?! No, she's not she's not attacking him, she's struggling to pull back his hood, which he's holding on to very tightly. Frustrated, she yanks harder, so hard he has to stand to up in order to maintain balance. Finally, she kicks the old man in the shin, causing him to let go of his hood. She yanks it back, revealing...
...a girl? The old man is a girl?!
With one sharp tug at her beard, Shicchan uncovers who "Monsieur Mori" was all along:
[Molly Kapur!]
...Molly? But... everything she said about Shicchan and me... Why?
Why would a friend of mine do such a thing? Unless...
"Hello, student council president. Hello... Misha," she says, sitting back down in her chair. Her icy tone confirms my suspicions.
Slamming my hands down on the table, I demand with all the force of a Student Council Member for her to explain what she's doing here!
"Hey, a girl's gotta pay her phone bill somehow. My Aunt Hitomi happens to be in the festival business, so I thought I'd borrow her tent and make a few bucks tonight."
Molly leans back in her seat, grinning impishly. I loved that grin once, long ago.
"Is that a crime?"
She swivels around in her chair a few times, then stops, and with a voice dripping with insincerity asks "Did I break a rule? Is the Student Council President mad at me? Am I going to get detention for a week because I played you for fools?"
"But why, Molly? You and I were friends, once. Even if Shicchan couldn't understand you~, how could you say those things to me?"
Swiveling her chair again, she turns her back to me and doesn't answer.
"Did you think you were cute, pulling a stunt like that?"
She swings her chair back around to face me, and for an instant her face is filled with fury, the ugly kind that only I ever saw in her. Her ire quickly dissipates, however, and with as sweet a smile she can muster she calmly replies "No, Misha, I wasn't trying to be cute. I was trying to be mean."
She glances toward Shicchan, then back at me.
"You like mean girls, don't you?"
"She... she's not mean..."
[What is she saying?]
"Oh, I beg to differ. And, actually, so would most of the student body!" Molly laughs derisively.
"You know that's not true, Molly!"
She cocks her head to one side, in mock curiosity. "Do I?"
"Shicchan~... Shicchan only ever thinks about the school. About you, about me, about every student at Yamaku. Maybe there are times she seems too~ demanding, but that's only because she expects the best out of everyone, and she only expects the best from everyone because she really, really~ believes in everyone's potential!"
For a split second, Molly looks almost convinced; then she doubles over in laughter.
[What is she laughing about? Did you tell a joke? Tell me!]
"Are you listening to yourself, Misha? Do you honestly believe any of that crap, after the way she's treated you?"
"I..."
"Oh, what am I saying? Of course you do. As the President's lapdog, you're not allowed to think of anyone's feelings but hers. If you could think of yourself for even a moment, you'd stop trying so hard. You'd suddenly realize what an uncaring bitch she is and stop trying altogether."
At this point, I'm trying as hard as I can to remain calm. I want to scream at Molly, to let this former friend know exactly how over her I am. But I can't. I can't let Shicchan see me like that, and I can't answer the questions she's bound to ask as a result of my outburst.
Suddenly, an out appears. I look to my left and find Shicchan standing there, tapping her foot impatiently. All this time she's been waiting for a translation...
"Oh, Class President..." I gravely intone. "You don't want to know what Molly had to say about her reckless actions~..."
"Wh-what are you doing, Misha? You wouldn't..."
"She says she knew full well that you need a permit to operate a business like this on school grounds," I continue, shaking my head woefully.
"I didn't say anything like that! Wait--what?!"
"And~ furthermore, she..."
I spin an epic tale of hatred and spite toward the Student Council, utilizing every swear word I know in JSL. A look of unbridled terror covers Molly's face as I translate Shicchan's fiery response, and in-between her sharply-worded rebukes I add: "You see, Molly... I'm the mean one."
I'm damn sure she won't forget it, either.
