Episode 32 (Sora’s POV): Hayashi Cosmo’s Circumstances
“I’m home.”
I say it, though no voice ever answers back. Still, I never skip the greeting, not once, every single day. At this point it’s basically stubbornness, aimed at myself.
A way of telling myself: I’m a proper person.
I take off my shoes and head into the living room. The empty, hollow space always makes the contrast with Sweet Stella feel especially sharp.
Welcome home! — flashing that bright, happy smile — and then, just a few hours later, coming back to this small, empty apartment where no one’s waiting.
Eating too much dinner just means gaining weight, and cooking’s too much trouble anyway, so I stick to something simple. I shove a seaweed salad from the convenience store into my mouth and head straight for the bathroom.
Filling the tub costs money — water, gas — so I always just take a quick shower instead.
Cosmo.
The mother who gave me a name people have laughed at since I was a little kid comes home maybe once every few months.
I only started being able to feel grateful that she at least still sends money for living expenses once I got to high school.
A cheap, run-down apartment. A mother who’s almost never home. A father I’ve had zero contact with at all.
I don’t like being pitied. And more than anything, I can’t stand the idea of letting my circumstances narrow down my own choices.
“…But, man, I’m tired…”
Letting out a quiet breath, I keep standing under the hot water. I want to just go straight to sleep, but there’s still schoolwork to finish once I’m out of the bath.
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“Alright, likes are climbing steadily…”
Before, the only account I ever checked was my illustration account. Lately, though, I’ve started checking my personal account without fail too.
The job at Sweet Stella’s going well. The manager’s a good person, and I got lucky with my coworkers too. The hourly pay’s only a little higher than a typical restaurant job, but the cheki commissions scale with effort, and that’s real motivation to keep pushing.
Once I’ve saved up a little more, I’m planning to start attending an art prep school.
To make the job and the prep school work together, I need to get moving on transferring to a correspondence high school too.
“So much to think about…”
Lying on my bed, I scroll through my social media timeline. My thumb stops when Ruri’s selfie floats by.
Probably taken right after her shift. Still in her maid uniform, grinning ear to ear.
Her smile’s still pretty stiff during actual shifts, but her selfies are always good. Well — maybe that’s just because her face is that good, period.
Ruri, real name Nanami Riri. Socially anxious, an introvert, and on top of that, raised as a rich girl, so there’s a mountain of stuff she just can’t do.
Listing off the individual traits, she sounds like exactly the type I’d end up hating. And yet somehow, I became her friend.
“With Sora-san again today ‼ Besties ♡”
Along with that caption, Ruri’s posted another two-shot of the two of us today too. Dutifully sticking to the “yuri act” thing I proposed to her.
And it’s paying off — among the customers, the image of “Ruri means Sora, Sora means Ruri” is starting to take hold.
But in reality, that’s not how it actually is.
Ruri lives with Möbius-san. She leans on Miyuki-san constantly too. And on top of all that, there’s that irritatingly persistent childhood friend of hers who shows up right at the shop uninvited.
“…I wonder how she actually feels about me, really.”
I catch myself thinking it before I can stop.
Because she’s my first friend.
I want to get closer to her, but I can’t bring myself to be honest, can’t quite push forward. And while I’m stuck like that, everyone else keeps getting closer to her instead.
It’s lonely. Frustrating. Maddening, even.
Should I be the one to ask her out somewhere? But under what excuse? Sweet Stella only gets one regular day off a week to begin with.
Sighing, I fire off a reply on Ruri’s account.
A few seconds later, “Love you!” comes back.
Not a private, one-on-one exchange. Just a conversation staged for an unspecified audience, purely for the “yuri act.”
And yet, if anyone found out that this “love you” is what’s making me grin like an idiot, Ruri would probably just laugh. That same overconfident, slightly gross grin she always gets.
Even that stupid grin — I’m starting to miss it now, just imagining it.
“…Can’t sleep. Guess I’ll draw.”
I snap upright and sit down at my desk. I shake my head hard, trying, uselessly, to force Ruri’s face out of my mind.