Toradora! Vol. 2

by Yuyuko Takemiya

  “This is Kawashima Ami. It may not seem like it, but we’re the same age, and she used to live around here. In fact, she used to be my neighbor before she moved. I guess you could call her a childhood friend.”

  “What do you mean, ‘it may not seem like it?’” Even when smiling, she puffed up her cheeks as though she were pouting. Like she was just a regular girl, making fun of Kitamura with a glare.

  There she was, in front of Ryuuji’s eyes. She was real. In the flesh. In all three dimensions.

  Just what kind of miracle was this…?

  But Kitamura wore a completely indifferent expression. “It’s just a figure of speech. Anyway, this is my good buddy Takasu Ryuuji, and this is Aisaka Taiga.”

  He’d introduced the oddball boy-girl duo sitting side by side on the sofa to the angel.

  The angel, Kawashima Ami, smiled cutely. “Nice to meet you! I’m Ami!”

  She suddenly extended both her defenseless hands.

  Ryuuji stared at those two beautiful hands… or rather, he was paralyzed by fascination, like a robot that couldn’t even comprehend the gesture.

  “C’mon, let’s shake hands. If you’re a friend of Yuusaku’s, you’re a friend of mine.”

  His hands just might melt, first. Syrupy sweat beaded on either palm.

  “…Uh, uh, uhhh…”

  Kawashima Ami gently scooped Ryuuji’s hand up from where it was resting on the table and wrapped it in both her own. They were cool and cold, and the touch of her rings to his skin was even colder.

  “Oh, is that—it couldn’t be.”

  Ryuuji was spaced out when Ami dropped his hand. Instead, she pointed her pretty finger at Taiga’s magazine, which was still spread out on the table.

  “Kyaaaa!”

  What a lovely screech.

  Ami grabbed the magazine, flustered. She pulled her shoulders in, holding the magazine tightly to her chest. She seemed…embarrassed? She lowered her elfin face, still clutching the magazine to cover it. She looked up with just her eyes, batting her lashes such that her pupils glittered. “No way…! What a coincidence…! What are the odds of that? Maybe… oh no, you definitely know, don’t you? That I… if you saw me in here, then, that is to say…you know…that I’m doing this kind of work…!”

  It seemed that there was real embarrassment wavering in that sparkle—it pierced through for several seconds. What are you saying? Ryuuji thought, half-stunned.

  With those looks, no one needed to see a magazine to think Ami was a model or a star, anyway. It only took a glance. But what he couldn’t understand was how Ami thought she wouldn’t be found out. Maybe Ami didn’t realize just how extraordinary she looked?

  He condensed those thoughts and somehow squeezed out a reply. “No… just looking at you, you look like…a model…”

  They were incredibly blunt words, for Ryuuji. That was his limit. But…

  “Huuuh? That’s not truuue!” Ami’s voice rose high, her eyes open wide. She tilted her head in doubt, her skepticism undoubtedly springing from the bottom of her heart. “That’s not true at all! I don’t even have makeup on, and this outfit’s just a bunch of stuff I randomly threw together. What on Earth about my look says ‘model’?”

  Which meant she really had no idea—this angel. Maybe this was innocence, or purity.

  “See, my hair’s all messed up, and I haven’t done anything to it since I woke up and like, really, I didn’t even comb it! I was like, this is fiiine, and then I went out, right? I wonder why you… it’s so weird… I don’t understand…”

  As he watched the worry on her face, Ryuuji somehow understood. People who are born naturally beautiful are oblivious to how rare their beauty is. That’s definitely what’s going on here. But because of that, they might be able to stay pure. And then that purity makes her even more beautiful. Then, while he was absentmindedly thinking all that…

  “Ah!”

  Ami’s fingertip suddenly thrust at the tip of Ryuuji’s nose.

  “You just thought I was ‘oblivious,’ right?”

  “Huh?”

  Shaken up, Ryuuji froze. Right in front of him, Ami puffed up one cheek and glared at him with mischief in her eyes. He really had thought she was oblivious, but the connotation was a little different… or no, maybe it was right—at least, in this case.

  “Well, I know, okay? You did think that, right?”

  Somewhere in the depths of Ami’s eyes he could feel the presence of a hidden smile, and he automatically gave in to her by nodding.

  “I knew it!”

  Aaaahh. Ami sighed sweetly in lamentation, and peevishly pouted her lips. “Well, people always say that to me. Ami is reeeaaally oblivious, they say. I wonder why? I’m not oblivious at all, but everyone says I am. …Yuusaku probably thinks so, too. Because he looks really bored.”

  “That’s not true.” Kitamura waved away the subject before giving a faintly bitter smile, and shrugged. Then, as though he had been waiting for an opportune moment, he started lightly pressing on Ami’s back. “Come on. Let’s head back to our seats. Our parents can’t order without us.”

  “Oh, right! Oops, we made them all wait, didn’t we?”

  Sorry! They raised their hands to Ryuuji and Taiga.

  “You’ll be here a while, right? Our parents said they’d go home right after eating, so we’ll come talk to you once dinner’s over.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “See you later!”

  Waving her hand and turning on her heel, Ami carried herself so beautifully—what a turbulent affair. And it seemed the turbulence was far from over.

  While watching Ami and his close friend depart, Ryuuji slunk back into the sofa chair, as though exhausted. He carefully watched the two until they reached their seats.

  “Ahhh…”

  Enraptured, he sighed. Several times.

  She was that beautiful. And not only that, her mom was a famous actress. But even then, she wasn’t arrogant at all. She was eternally pure. It didn’t even cross her mind that she was beautiful. She was a little bit of an airhead, but wasn’t that part of her charm? To think there was a girl like that in this world… she was like some kind of superhero, the perfect woman.

  She was completely different from a certain similarly beautiful, but strangely quarrelsome and woefully twisted Palmtop Tiger. Even trying to compare them was a fool’s endeavor.

  “…Hey, even though Kawashima Ami’s famous, she seems really sweet. She’s pretty, but she’s got a nice personality, too. Maybe you could learn a thing or two. To think Kitamura would have a childhood friend like that… Right, Tai…”

  “…”

  “Tai…ga…?”

  He gulped audibly, fidgeting in his seat. Casually, oh so casually, he tried to move back to the opposite side of the table.

  He’d been careless. He hadn’t noticed the soundlessly grumbling tiger beside him. Now that he thought about it, her whole presence had been strangely muted—but in actuality, the ornery predator had merely concealed herself in the brush, the better to stalk her prey.

  Like a beast with one paw out of the thicket, Taiga’s body seemed to emanate an aura of turbulent bloodlust. Her small, beautiful features had become an eerie Noh theater mask. It seemed even now that her contorted lips might part, revealing the fangs of a beast ready to rend flesh from bone. The piercing, ferocious light in her large eyes was half-hidden by thin eyelids as she watched Ami’s departing back. She settled her small frame back against the cushions but arrogantly jutted out her chin.

  Taiga was in a terrible mood.

  Even if he ignored the more obvious differences between her and the passing angel, Ryuuji couldn’t resist making a comment. “You… how do I say this… are you sure the attitude’s a good idea? You don’t need to look so ticked off just because Kitamura’s got a beautiful childhood friend. Weren’t you just all charged up and happy a moment ago?”

  “You’ve got the wrong idea.” Her voice rang ominously, low and quiet, like t
he rumble of a tiger licking her chops. “It’s not something as stupid as that. It’s not…”

  But Taiga paused, and pushed her hair up. She snorted, and the tension in the tiger seemed to loosen.

  “…Whatever. It’s fine.” Her bright, sharp eyes seemed to melt into a cruel smile as she turned them on Ryuuji. “Isn’t it stupid to humor her? Did you see it, just now? Even you should have been able to notice, and you’re dumber than a box of rocks.”

  “…Did I notice what, now?”

  “I’m good at sniffing these things out. I guess I can at least give you a hint—how many people have you met before who could honestly say that everyone calls them oblivious?”

  “…Did she say something like that?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Taiga huffed, spitefully twisting her rosebud lips as she looked away from Ami.

  She’s in a bad mood, but chances are good that she won’t ask to go home if there’s any opportunity she could talk to Kitamura, Ryuuji thought.

  Taiga continued to read the magazine with an unreadable, stone-faced expression. Ryuuji flipped through pages of the bento recipe book that came bundled with it, unable to put himself at ease. Half an hour must have passed.

  “Yo. Our parents went home.” Dressed in his regrettably shabby Uniqlo outfit, Kitamura accompanied the beautiful model to their seat. She seemed to radiate inner light. When Ami crossed the restaurant, her charm drew all the customers’ gazes without exception.

  “Sorry for keeping you waiting!” One step behind Kitamura, Ami wore a beatific smile as she waved at Ryuuji. Without realizing it, he was lured into waving back.

  “Aren’t you cheerful… like a dog wagging its tail…”

  At Taiga’s cold words, he felt a strange embarrassment, and lowered his hand.

  As expected, he couldn’t get out the words to say, “Kawashima-san should sit by me. Kitamura should sit by Taiga.” So it was only natural that the boys sat on one side and the girls on the other.

  Settled in next to Ryuuji, Kitamura opened the menu and questioned the girl across from him. “Ami, you’re still okay on time, right? Do you want to order something?”

  “No, thanks. We just ate! I’m stuffed. …What about you two?”

  At the sudden change of topic, Ryuuji’s shoulders jumped with a start. Taiga, unable even to look at Kitamura in his everyday clothes, was looking down at her own knees, frozen.

  “Uhhhh, what… wh-what should we do? Taiga?”

  Taiga swung her head side to side, still looking down.

  End of conversation. Well, what should we do next? What should we talk about next?

  With eyes full of hope, Ryuuji waited for Kitamura, the one person he knew best out of all of them, to continue to speak. This is probably the last opportunity in my life to share a table with a model. Please push the conversation somewhere fun—make this a moment to remember, he prayed.

  But then…

  “Ahhh, I’m pretty tired after so much time with relatives. Excuse me, I’m going to take a quick bathroom break.” Kitamura was, as usual, the only relaxed one among them. He stood from his seat, oblivious of the atmosphere he would leave behind.

  “Uh, wai…”

  Flustered, Ryuuji stretched his arm after Kitamura, but he couldn’t just say it. You’re not actually going, are you?

  He looked at Taiga. She had turned to stone, still looking down.

  He looked at Ami. She smiled happily, a question mark practically visible in the air above her. She tilted her head in puzzlement at Ryuuji—who was, after all, acting pretty suspicious.

  It was impossible. No matter how hard he tried, he just wasn’t capable of keeping things together. Ryuuji pretended to casually scratch his head. “Oh, I kind of think I have to go, too. Uh, where was the restroom again…?”

  Though he was late, he followed after Kitamura, accompanying him in formation. Onward to urination!

  Of course, he did wonder. Was it really okay leaving Taiga with that girl when she was in so bad a mood…? Shamefully, his nerves won out. He was bad at talking to begin with, and Ami was a girl, and a mega-gorgeous model, at that. In times like these, he couldn’t depend on Taiga. Ryuuji didn’t have a shred of confidence that he could rally things without Kitamura.

  Ryuuji couldn’t even look back at his abandoned seat. He followed after Kitamura, who was heading towards the men’s room in an awful hurry. This was about as pitiful as it got, but he couldn’t help it. He’d take the opportunity to pee to his heart’s content.

  But Kitamura took him by surprise by turning around just before they reached the restroom door.

  “Good. You came.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Just as planned. I was sure if I got out of my seat, you’d follow along in short order,” he murmured, pushing up his silver-rimmed glasses.

  Ryuuji, his sharp eyes glinting, wondered just what was going on. Kitamura beckoned him over to hide in the shadow of the cigarette vending machine. “There’s something I want to ask you. I want you to answer honestly.” His apricot-shaped eyes bored straight into Ryuuji. Then, unblinking, he came straight out with it. “Takasu, what did you think of Ami?”

  Then he waited.

  “…So you don’t have to pee?”

  “Nope.”

  He looked dead serious. It seemed Kitamura really had come here just to talk to Ryuuji. Even though he didn’t understand the reason for the question, it seemed like he had to answer. It wasn’t like he had any good reason not to.

  “…I didn’t think anything in particular…and you shouldn’t just suddenly bring over a cute girl like her without giving me any warning! I got so nervous I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Well, she is cute. I’ll admit that.”

  “No, she’s not just cute, though. She’s a really good girl. How do I put this… she’s, like, pure… like so pure she needs someone to protect her…”

  “…Yeaaah.” In a moment of uncharacteristic behavior, Kitamura scowled, pushed his glasses up to his forehead, and rubbed his eyes, as though dreadfully tired. Abruptly, he pushed against Ryuuji’s back.

  “Whoa, wait a second. Wait a—where are we going? What about the restroom? Aren’t you going back to your seat?”

  “Well… for now, crouch down.”

  The safety of the bathrooms got further and further away. They headed back towards the seating area. Then, stooping and hiding behind decorative plants, they concealed themselves behind the barrier that divided the smoking and non-smoking sections. Though he still had no clue why they were doing this, Ryuuji couldn’t do anything but hide. They had gone the long way around so that they were right behind the seats where they left Taiga and Ami. They could see the two perfectly clearly, but from where the girls sat, this was a blind spot.

  “…This kinda feels like stalking. What are we doing?”

  “Trust me. Pipe down and watch.”

  ***

  Over where Kitamura pointed, Ami was slowly crossing her legs. She threw an arm across the back of the booth.

  “Gahh, it’s so hot in here. Hey, hey, I’m thirsty, you wanna run along and get Ami-chan an iced tea?”

  Brushing her fine hair, plainly irritated even at a glance, Ami kept her chin propped on her hand—and brazenly shoved her glass over toward Taiga.

  “…”

  Taiga took a quick glance at it, then without changing her expression, returned her eyes to her knees. The one who lightly clicked her tongue wasn’t Taiga, but Ami.

  “Are you for real? You’re useless. Or maybe just sad… Don’t you think it’s bad manners, ignoring me like that? Not that it matters. I’ll have Yuusaku get it for me when he comes back, anyway. Or maybe I’ll ask that weird guy with the creepo eyes pretty please. I bet he’s up to doing just about anything, if it’s Ami-chan who asks him.” She spoke in a sickly-sweet voice, strawberry-colored lips slightly contorted. But her veneer of pure beauty didn’t so much as crack. And then, recklessly, not even bothering t
o glance at Taiga, Ami asked, “Hey, hey. Is he, like, your boyfriend?”

  “…”

  Taiga remained silent as a doll.

  “Mind if I steal him from you? Not that I actually want to keep him or anything.”

  “…”

  “And what’s up with those eyes? Is he like a delinquent or something? How’d you end up hanging out with a loser like that? Y’know, I kind of respect your total lack of shame.”

  “…”

  With her mouth still closed, Taiga turned her clear eyes on Ami.

  “Well, y’knooow. In a place like this, with nothing to do, I guess beggars can’t be choosers. Ah, this town. It’s. The. Worst.”

  After letting out that little singsong conclusion, Ami didn’t even seem to be waiting for Taiga’s reply. She brusquely pulled her brand-name bag towards herself, took out a huge hand mirror, and started gazing upon her own beauty. Then she combed her fingers through her hair several times, rearranging it, before carefully applying a transparent gloss. She posed to the front. She posed to the side. She faced the mirror again. “I’m so cute,” she muttered happily, suddenly grinning in satisfaction. “Ahhh, I feel like doing something fun all of a sudden… what do you usually do with that guy? Go out joyriding?”

  “…He’s not my boyfriend.” Anyone who knew Taiga would be shaking at the sound of her flat, emotionless murmur.

  “Ohhh? Is that sooo? Not like I care, but…I guess that these days, even delinquents have standards. Kind of hard to believe, but if you’re asking me? Dating somebody so different, so below me, just wouldn’t work out.”

  Still looking into the mirror, Ami snorted in apparent scorn. Then, suddenly, she took her eyes off the mirror and turned a condescending eye on Taiga.

  “Hey, how tall are you, anyway? I just noticed, but you’re kinda freakishly small.”

  “…”

  She leered at Taiga, slowly peering from head to toe—and then, as though astonished, raised her eyebrows. “Honestly, I’m amazed you can find a store that sells anything your size. But, like, really—when you buy jeans, how far up do you have to hem them? Must be a pain. I’ve never had to do mine.”