“Look at this figure! Isn’t it amazing?”
It was lunchtime at school, and as usual, our group was in high spirits.
Each of us had brought photos—not printed ones, of course, but pictures we’d taken on our phones. We were all gathered around, sharing our thoughts, or more accurately, showing off.
In this little circle, I was the undisputed champion.
Why? Because the “photos” I had were of someone so captivating that anyone who saw them would be instantly enchanted.
“Wow, that’s insane.”
“Yeah, nice!”
“The curve and that butt are irresistible.”
“Right? This bouncy, plump butt is the best!”
Huddled together like geeks, we shared our photos and chatted excitedly. Everyone wore the same silly grin that screamed, “I’m totally smitten.” If someone pointed it out, they’d get a chorus of, “You’re the same!” followed by laughter.
“Short legs are a charm point, don’t you think?”
“Exactly!”
“So? This cutie waits for you every day at home?”
One of the guys grinned slyly, and I grinned back.
“Yup, this cute girl with a model-like figure, a big butt, and—”
Gulp.
I heard someone swallow audibly.
“She sneaks into my bed every night to comfort me!”
As I said it with a smug look, there was a moment of stunned silence before the group erupted in groans of envy.
“Man, I’m so jealous!”
“That never happens at my place.”
“Well, yours is a tsundere, after all.”
“Sharing a bed? That’s next-level stuff.”
The conversation reached a fever pitch as we dove deeper into this game we played: talking about our photos as if they were people.
As nerds, we often personified the things we loved. A certain cat might be described as a tsundere princess, while a dog could be imagined as a shy class representative who turns affectionate when alone. The challenge was to avoid mentioning the subject outright and see how long we could maintain the charade.
And so, amid the classroom noise, this little game had become a daily ritual for us.
“My first night sharing a bed with Kurumi happened just minutes after we met.”
“Dude, that’s messed up!”
I shot a triumphant look at my best friend, who was trying to suppress his laughter, his face buried in his desk.
That’s when it happened.
Clatter.
There was a noise behind me, so I turned around.
There stood Sayuki, my childhood friend, who had apparently been collecting notebooks for the class as the class rep. She was frozen in place, staring blankly, with the notebooks she’d been holding scattered at her feet.
“Huh? What’s up, Sayuki? You dropped all your notebooks. Hey, snap out of it!”
I got up from my chair, sighing, and bent down to pick up the fallen notebooks. But Sayuki didn’t move a muscle.
“Seriously, what’s wrong? Do you have a sleep mode or something?”
I teased her, but she said nothing. Usually, she’d glare at me from behind her red-framed glasses and say something like, “What nonsense are you spouting?” But this time, she just stood there, completely still.
“Are you feeling sick? If so, you should head to the nurse’s office. Want me to go with you?”
Still no response. Instead, I noticed tears welling up in her wide eyes. Suddenly, her face twisted in anguish, and she bolted from the classroom, leaving the notebooks behind.
“Wait, the notebooks... Is she really feeling that bad? She should’ve just gone to the nurse.”
I debated whether to go after her but ultimately decided to leave the notebooks on the teacher’s desk and wait for her to return by the next period.
* * *
“Hey, should you really let her go like that?”
“Huh?”
One of my friends spoke up.
“You should chase after her. Childhood friends are important, you know. They’re meant to be your future bride.”
“Excuse me? I’m Team Floria, thanks.”
“What? Are we having a waifu war now?”
“Oh, you wanna go?”
“Calm down, you two.”
Where did that even come from? Of course, Floria’s the better choice—her looks are superior, hands down.
—My Childhood Friend Has Been Acting Weird — Part 1){kind=link}
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