The girl in her mind had permed brown hair, big eyes, and small lips. Every day she wore a designer schoolbag and pastel sweaters over her uniform. She was popular and always carried just a hint of expensive perfume. Chie named the girl in her imagination Chiyo, probably because she wanted to keep a little piece of herself in the entries.
Chiyo created a diary titled “The Colorful Days of a High School Girl.” She talked about having to choose between two boys, a charismatic student council leader and a popular member of the school’s soccer team. Chiyo ended up choosing the soccer player because he did so many sweet things to woo her, like calling her at night and asking her to open her window, only for her to find him waiting in a phone booth within sight of her house.
She went down to greet him in her pajamas. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about you,” the boy said nervously, leaning on the motorcycle he had borrowed from his older brother.
On Chiyo’s birthday, he gave her a heart-shaped pendant decorated with her birthstone. He finally asked her for a date on Christmas Eve, and she agreed. They went to see the ornamental lights in Ginza and wore matching scarves knitted by Chiyo. She thought the one she’d made for him was a little too short, but he told her he would wear it every day until summer came. The whole night he held her hand, not letting go even once.
My heart had never beat so fast, Chiyo wrote.
Chie thought the entry was clichéd and clearly fake, but her diary steadily made its way to the early pages. Within six months, “The Colorful Days of a High School Girl” appeared in the very front of the magazine.
It wasn’t surprising. Who wanted to hear about the life of a boring, transparent girl? Everyone would prefer to read about the popular, dazzling girl. Chie was happy and sad at the same time, but she continued to write more and more often as Chiyo.
Some other diaries started to mention Chiyo. Female members said they admired her and wanted to be her friend. They wished she would reveal her real identity.
Chie sighed. If only I could. These moments reminded her that Chiyo didn’t exist. This girl, adored by so many, was merely a figment of Chie’s imagination.
To keep up with the latest trends, Chie began purchasing fashion magazines. She needed to know the latest in fashion and beauty. At school, she watched the popular girls from afar. She studied how they talked and flirted with boys. It didn’t take long for Chie to understand how these girls behaved. Either they were too predictable, or she was particularly observant.
After being ranked number one for five volumes, Chiyo’s diary dropped to second place. A diary written by another schoolgirl—at least, that was what the diarist claimed to be—had taken the top spot. Based on her stories, Miyuta seemed cute, and she was also a model in a teen fashion magazine. There were strong hints that she was Miyu Takahashi, a popular student from one of the high schools in the east of Tokyo. Learning that even a girl like Chiyo could be replaced so easily, Chie was shaken. She stopped writing and didn’t send in an entry for two weeks. But after the initial shock wore off, she got her spirit back.
She wouldn’t give up the top spot so easily, especially since this was the only thing she had ever exceled at. She went to a nearby convenience shop and browsed the magazine section, thinking hard about what kind of entry would get more votes than Miyuta’s.
While looking idly at the magazine display, Chie spotted some adult magazines. Teenage girls with innocent expressions wore skimpy costumes and leaned toward the camera, thrusting their busty chests forward and pouting with glossed lips.
It might be a cheap trick, but it was sure to work. Chiyo said she hadn’t posted anything for a while because she was distraught. Her boyfriend wanted to sleep with her, but she was too nervous. She had never done it before.
The number of votes went up drastically. That entry received the highest number of votes Chiyo had collected since she’d first started writing her diary.
When Chie finally recounted Chiyo’s first sexual experience, the vote count tripled. It was something Miyu—who was real—couldn’t do. If she revealed too many intimate details, she would damage her reputation at school. But Chiyo could do this, because she didn’t exist.
Miyu was probably angry, just like Chie had been a few weeks ago. Shortly thereafter, she stopped posting. With her disappearance, Chiyo became the uncontested top diarist for months.
As for Chie, without realizing it, Chiyo’s color had slowly bled into her transparent life. Part of it was probably the many fashion magazines she’d been reading in the name of research. Or perhaps it was simply a biological process. Her uniform began to feel a little tighter on her chest, thanks to her hormones. Once she dyed and permed her hair, put on some makeup, and altered her school uniform, girls began to talk to Chie, and boys started to steal glances.
A boy came up to Chie after school to ask her out. She was flattered, but she turned him down. He was too nervous, and it made her uncomfortable. She regretted it almost immediately. It was the first and only time anyone had ever asked her on a date. She should have said yes, but what was done was done. She thought she would once again become unnoticed.
But to the contrary, more boys professed their feelings for her, including an upperclassman with a pretty face. He was a little too dressy for her liking, but she said yes because she wanted to experience dating. She was under no impression that they were in love, but they definitely had good times together. They even had sex. Chie’s boyfriend didn’t know it was her first time, and she saw no reason to tell him. He was obviously much more experienced, which made the whole thing more than bearable.
Then the inevitable occurred. While Chie was inside one of the stalls in the girls’ bathroom, she overheard several classmates talking about her.
“Do you see how Chie behaves?” one of them asked. From her voice, Chie recognized her as one of the girls she usually had lunch with. “Hanging on to her boyfriend’s arm all the time and rubbing her boobs on him.”
Another girl chimed in. “Do you think they’re fake? They’re not a normal size for a high school student.”
One girl burst into laughter, and the rest followed.
“Hey, don’t be so loud. What if someone hears?”
An impatient tsk followed. “If we hate her that much, why don’t we kick her out of the group?”
Chie felt like she’d been stabbed in the chest. She clenched her fists.
“That’s no good,” the first girl said. “She gets a lot of attention, even if she attracts boys for all the wrong reasons. Anyway, she’s already with someone, so she’s not competition for us. And she’s, you know . . .”
“Cheap?”
“Exactly. No one takes her seriously. Think of her as a lure.”
They laughed again, and Chie remained still as she heard the door open and close. Back to silence. Chie came out of the stall and washed her hands. Facing the mirror, she stared into her reflection.
This is nothing to be upset about, Chie Ohno. You get along with everyone, even if you have no real friends. It’s the same as before. You just get more attention nowadays, that’s all.
A girl came out of the stall next to the one Chie had been in, startling her. The bathroom had been so quiet she hadn’t realized anyone else was there. The girl had short black hair and nice bone structure, obscured by thick, old-fashioned glasses.
The girl washed her hands without even glancing at Chie. On her left wrist, she wore an oversized black men’s Casio watch. Her boyfriend’s? Probably not. She was too plainly dressed and serious-looking to be fooling around with a boy.
Or maybe not. Someone like her would go out with a bespectacled college student—a mature, soft-spoken older boy who threw out old-fashioned lines like, “I would like us to date, with marriage in mind.” But wasn’t she too young for that? Chie chuckled, amused by her own wild imagination,
honed by writing all those fake diary entries.
The girl turned to her. “Is something wrong?”
Flustered, Chie said, “No, nothing,” and quickly left the restroom.
That was how Chie Ohno met Miwako Sumida, just a few days after Miwako had transferred to her school. Since Miwako was assigned to another class, Chie didn’t know her name. She almost forgot about Miwako’s existence. In all honesty, Miwako didn’t seem like the type of girl who would hang out with a person like Chie.
Returning to her classroom, Chie was faced with two options:
1. She could confront the girls about what she had overheard in the bathroom, or
2. She could act as if nothing had happened. Everyone could continue to pretend to be friends.
It took her less than sixty seconds to decide that the second option was better in the long run. High school wasn’t the time to make enemies. She had enough problems with homework and exams and didn’t need additional trouble. Forcing a smile, Chie approached the girls.
One of them waved to her—the one who had called her cheap. “Chie, where have you been? We were looking for you.”
“Sorry, I was with my boyfriend,” Chie said, clasping her hands apologetically. “He asked if we could go on a date this weekend.”
“That’s so nice,” the other girl commented. “I wish I had a boyfriend too.”
An idea came into mind. “Why don’t I ask my boyfriend to introduce you to his friend? Maybe we can double-date.”
“Really? You would do that?”
Chie nodded. “I’ll ask him later after school.”
“Can I come too?” another girl asked.
“Of course you can. In fact, all of you should come.”
“Oh, Chie, you’re the best.”
Hearing those words, Chie felt sick, but she had no right to feel that way. Her lies were even worse than theirs. She continued to suck up to these girls, playing the ignorant card. But this façade was in her best interest for now.
At home, Chie still wrote diary entries as Chiyo. Her diary was as popular as ever, but something in her had changed. She was no longer so thrilled about the popularity of “The Colorful Days of a High School Girl,” perhaps because her own life no longer seemed to differ from Chiyo’s.
Chie Ohno was no longer the transparent girl she had once been.
9
We’re
in
a
Different
World
Chie felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and opened her eyes. Ryusei leaned in close to her. Way too close—she could see his long eyelashes.
“Wake up,” he said. “This is our stop.”
Rubbing her eyes, Chie stood up and stretched. Her neck was stiff. Surprisingly, she had managed to get some sleep.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just fell asleep in a weird position, and now my whole body hurts.”
He laughed. “Old woman.”
Chie rolled her eyes and put on her sweater. Ryusei took both their rucksacks from the overhead compartment. She could have carried her own, but she knew he would insist on doing it, so she didn’t bother. They left their carriage and stepped down onto the platform.
The train stop was quiet. A few other passengers got off too, none of them with much luggage. The station felt old, in serious need of refurbishment. The vibrating sounds of the train engines echoed all over the place.
“Where did that elementary school class go?” Chie asked.
“They got off earlier,” Ryusei said. “Are you hungry? It’s almost lunchtime.”
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“But we still need to eat.” He scanned the station and gestured toward a ramen shop. “How about something warm?”
Chie shrugged and followed him.
The ramen shop was a small one just outside the gate, probably catering mostly to station workers. It had a long communal table with a few stools on each side. The only person in the stall was a plump man in a thin white T-shirt. His eyes were glued to a small television playing a game show between three idol groups.
“Excuse me,” Ryusei called.
The man glanced over and stood. “What would you like to order?”
Ryusei and Chie looked at the menu, but there were only three variations of ramen.
“Number one, please,” he said and asked Chie. “What about you?”
“I’ll get the same.”
The man nodded and gestured for them to take a seat.
“Where’s the drink menu?” Ryusei asked.
The man replied with a grunt, “If you want bottled water, you can take one from the counter. If you need something fancier, go to the convenience store.”
Ryusei turned to Chie. She shrugged. He took two bottles of drinking water and passed one to her. They settled at the table farthest from the platform.
“Not very friendly, is he?” she whispered. “No wonder it’s empty here.”
“Let’s hope he’s better at making ramen than greeting customers.” Ryusei set the rucksacks down.
“Where are we going after this?”
“We need to leave the station and walk to the bus stop, but it’s not too far.”
Chie looked around at the nearly empty platform. “Really, that Miwako, what was she thinking, coming all the way here?”
She turned to Ryusei. He was staring off into the distance. His jawline seemed more prominent than before. Had he lost weight? She had never really thought about it before, but it was true—he was good-looking.
“Why did you like Miwako?”
Chie had asked the question aloud without realizing it. Ryusei turned to face her, seemingly caught off guard. Realizing she had just made a blunder, she quickly continued, “Sorry, if it’s too personal—”
“No, it’s not that,” Ryusei quickly said. He chuckled. “You know, I could go on about that for hours and I’d still have more to say.”
He looked at Chie, anticipating a response, but she waited for his answer.
“There were so many things about her,” he said. “People usually misunderstood her, but she was a really sweet, caring girl. She always worked hard because she wanted to, not because anyone else was making her. She meant what she said. And she had her own way of seeing the world. She was so comfortable with being different.”
Ryusei went quiet for a moment.
“When I was with her, I felt safe. I could be who I really was. I could make mistakes and count on her to tell me if I did something wrong. I trusted her completely.”
“Uh-huh.”
He took a deep breath. “You know, she just made everything better. More intense. More colorful. When I looked at her, I used to think, ‘Hey, maybe the world isn’t such a bad place.’”
Chie felt a tug in her chest.
Ryusei shook his head. “Look at me, blabbering nonstop. Kind of silly, isn’t it? Saying this after she’s already gone.”
“It’s not silly,” she said. “It’s true.”
“Thank you. I can see why you and Miwako were so close. You’re really kind.”
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of their steaming noodles. The man handed over a tiny piece of paper with the total written carelessly in pencil.
Once the man left, they dug into the noodles. Chie couldn’t tell whether the food was good or not. The train journey had left her feeling nauseous. She only ate half of hers, while Ryusei finished his entire portion. The noodles must have been decent, then, or he’d just been starving. After they were done eating, Ryu picked up both of their rucksacks again and led the way out of the station.
Three days before that, Ryusei had turned up in front of Chie’s house.
His light-blue shirt was drenched with sweat. What w
as he doing here? Hadn’t they just seen each other at Miwako’s mother’s house?
“Hi,” he said awkwardly. “Can I come in?”
She opened the front gate. “You should’ve called first. What if I wasn’t home?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.”
Putting down his backpack, he took his shoes off. The neighbor’s seven-year-old son peeped over the wall that separated his house and Chie’s.
“Chie is cheating on her boyfriend,” he said. “I’m going to tell on you.”
“Shut up,” she shouted, but the boy ran off laughing. She turned to Ryusei. “Ignore him. That brat is always bothering me.”
Ryusei nodded and managed a smile.
She invited him in. “What brings you here?”
Even before he answered, she knew the reason he was there. The only common bond between Ryusei Yanagi and Chie Ohno was Miwako Sumida. In Ryusei’s eyes, there was only Miwako. It was as if no other girls existed. Now that Miwako was gone, Chie wondered what he would do with all the attention reserved for her.
“Please, take a seat,” she said, gesturing at the sofa.
Suddenly she became aware of how bare her house was. A few weeks ago, her mother had read a book on Zen aesthetics and become inspired. She had gotten rid of most of the furniture and electronics, even the television. In the living room, all that was left were the unbleached cotton L-shape sofa, a round coffee table, and a pinewood shelf.
Chie turned to Ryusei. “What would you like to drink?”
“Don’t bother, I won’t be here for long.” He looked around, placing his backpack next to his legs. “Is your mother home?”
“Not at the moment.” Chie sat at the corner of the sofa. “She’s gone for groceries, but she should be back any minute.”
She waited for him to say something, but he just looked down and laced his fingers together.
Chie leaned toward him. “Ryusei?”
“About Miwako,” he eventually said. “There’s something I want to ask.”
She nodded. “I figured.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m trying to understand what happened. You must know something.”
The Perfect World of Miwako Sumida Page 9