Nami

I stand still at the entrance of the karaoke room while Demon Boy still holds my hand firmly, totally unbothered by everyone’s stunned expressions fixed upon us. They blink several times, their jaws on the floor, as though wondering whether what they are witnessing is real or not.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” I murmur, leaning slightly toward Demon Boy.

He shrugs and lets go of my hand. “Don’t mind them,” he says flatly before flopping down next to Watanabe-san, who is seated with Shiokawa-san.

A brief moment of silence passes until Demon Boy’s ex-whatever-the-title-is punches the table, her blue eyes filled with rage as she targets me and barks, “What the hell is going on here? Why were you holding Yuu-kun’s hand? How dare you?” She points an accusatory finger at me.

What a bother.

As my schoolmates expectantly await my response, Demon Boy remarks, “Refrain from speaking that way to Fukuyama-san, Emica. Not that it’s anyone’s business, but you should know that I was the one who was holding her hand and not the other way around.”

Gasps of disbelief fill the room.

Demon Boy’s ex-whatever-the-title-is recoils, visibly hurt by his words. “Bu-But… Why her?” She continues pointing at me.

Demon Boy frowns. “What do you mean by her?”

Watanabe-san laughs. “I guess I speak for all of us when I say that the reason we’re so surprised is that you’ve never held a girl’s hand before, Yusuke. Not Emica’s, not your other dates’, not anyone’s.”

This time, I am the one who gasps, astounded.

Is that true? Am I really the first girl Demon Boy has held hands with?

I clutch at my chest, my heartbeat going off the charts.

What is this feeling? Why do I feel like smiling and singing with happiness?

Shiokawa-san smirks. “Your cheeks are beet-red, Nami-chan. Are you, by any chance, flattered by Yuu-kun’s attention and chivalry? He insisted on meeting you at the train station when I called you earlier, you know. He was eager to be your knight in shining armor, I dare say.” She smiles slyly.

Knight in shining armor? He is more of a demon in shining armor.

Demon Boy grumbles, “Can we drop it already?” He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets.

Meanwhile, his ex-whatever-the-title-is’ murderous glare on me starts weighing heavily on my shoulders, prompting me to sit down beside Shiokawa-san in an attempt to protect myself from the threat. I should have guessed that getting involved with Demon Boy would bring me nothing but trouble and spark jealousy amongst his admirers, but even so, I cannot help admitting that I am glad he was the one who escorted me from the train station.

“Nami-chan.” Watanabe-san waves at me, beaming. “You look beautiful.”

Shiokawa-san agrees. “You look gorgeous and super fashionable.” She nods enthusiastically, looking at Demon Boy. “Doesn’t she, Yuu-kun?”

I hold my breath as Demon Boy gazes at me, his lips curling into a smile as he replies, “Yes, she does.” 

Shiokawa-san giggles. “I knew it.”

Watanabe-san throws an arm around Demon Boy’s neck and ruffles his hair with a fist against the top of his head. “Of course you do.”

Feeling uncomfortable, I take the food menu from the table and scan it, tuning out the horrible singing that has resumed, Demon Boy’s ex-whatever-the-title-is’ glaring, and everything else that makes my head hurt.

As if on cue, my stomach grumbles while I read the names and prices of the desserts. Although I have not yet fully grasped the concept of human money and am as dense as a rock when it comes to distinguishing expensive items from cheap ones, I am certain that I can afford the food here without giving up my everyday instant noodles.

Perhaps I should ask Souma to teach me more about human money the next time I meet him.

My instructor taught me the basics when I was preparing to come to Tokyo, but experiencing life in the human realm is completely different from merely studying about it from the safety of the castle in the Kingdom of Angels. Humans are unpredictable with their explosive emotions, actions, and reactions, and I never know what to expect when dealing with them.

I count the money in my white wallet to make sure I have enough to order a couple of desserts that catch my eye on the menu.

The monthly allowance Father gives me is enough to let me live a comfortable life here in Tokyo without worrying about anything other than my studies and safety.

“What are you ordering, Nami-chan?” asks Watanabe-san, curious.

“I am ordering mochi ice cream*,” I reply as my index finger taps on the image of four mochi ice creams in a glass bowl on the menu.

“Do you like sweets?” Shiokawa-san takes the menu from my hands and inspects the dessert I want to try.

“Yes, I do. I used to eat sweets all the time at the castle—I mean, at Father and Mother’s house,” I say, a drop of cold sweat forming on my forehead. Instinctively, my eyes dart to Demon Boy, who, surely enough, is staring at me intently.

Why does he keep looking at me? 

Not that I mind being the center of his attention, but it does enrage the other girls who wish they were in my position.

“Let’s all order mochi ice cream, then,” Watanabe-san decides, scanning the barcode on the tab with his smartphone and placing the order once the establishment’s app confirms our room number on the screen.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Nami-chan? Do you promise you won’t be offended?” Shiokawa-san hesitates, furrowing her brows.

“What is it?” I keep my expression flat.

“Is this your first time hanging out with friends?”

I grimace, annoyed and ashamed that she has figured out my lack of social interaction. I could lie and come up with whatever excuse, but I find myself intrigued as to what aspect of my behavior and personality has given me away, which leads me to ask a question of my own. “How did you know that, Shiokawa-san?”

She laughs. “You’re not exactly trying to hide that you’re not the most social person in the world. Take the fact that you’ve been adamantly avoiding us, for example.” She gestures at herself and her friends. “You don’t talk to anyone in class except when Tonkatsu and I insist on including you in our chats during the breaks between lessons.”

“I do not see the point in nurturing friendships,” I state dryly, shrugging.

Shiokawa-san stops laughing and scowls. “That’s not a nice thing to say. No wonder you don’t have friends.” She crosses her arms over her chest, puffing out her cheeks.

“Now, that’s not a nice thing to say to a new friend, Aimi,” scolds Watanabe-san, shooting Shiokawa-san a stern look. “Be a good girl and apologize to her.”

Eh. Not that I care whether humans are polite to me, but it feels nice that Watanabe-san cares enough about my feelings to call out his friend.

Shiokawa-san pouts. “I’m sorry, Nami-chan. I shouldn’t have said those things to you, but in my defense, I only did it because it’s frustrating that you don’t want to be a part of our group when everyone else in school does. It’s also frustrating that you treat us with such indifference when we already like you because you’re cool in your own way.”

Watanabe-san chimes in, “It’s true. There’s something about you that I find super charming and that makes me want to be your friend.”

Shiokawa-san raises a hand. “The same goes for me. You’re super charming.”

Me, charming? Is that a joke that I am not getting?

Meanwhile, three flustered and giddy girls approach Demon Boy and ask to take pictures with him, which he agrees to do. However, as he gives them a friendly smile that does not reach his eyes, I wonder what he hides beneath the mask he wears and what his true self is really like.

“Yuu-kun’s admirers don’t leave him alone,” comments Shiokawa-san, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Are you having fun so far?” Watanabe-san asks me, taking a sip of what appears to be a soft drink in a glass.

Fun?

“Honestly? No, I am not. The air is suffocatingly hot, my ears are hurting due to all the horrible singing,” I gesture at the boy singing on the karaoke machine, “I feel watched and judged,” I glance at the girls in the room glaring at me, “and I feel like an outsider.”

I do not belong here.

“So this isn’t your scene.” Watanabe-san chuckles.

“Maybe we should try to do something more low-key with just the four of us next time,” suggests Shiokawa-san, her attention on Watanabe-san. “We need to respect Nami-chan’s boundaries and not drag her around like we initially planned to do.” She turns to face me, grinning. “Right?”

“Eh.” I rise to my feet. “Excuse me, but I need some air.” Ignoring Shiokawa-san’s silent protest—her facial expression screams, “I cannot believe she is escaping the conversation”—I walk out of the room.

Once outside and in the corridor, I take a long, deep breath, relieved to be alone. Although the air is still too warm and stuffy for me, I feel like I can breathe better there.

“Well, since I am here, I might as well use the restroom before the mochi ice cream arrives. I should also get something to drink from the open bar,” I mumble as I head to the nearest ladies’ restroom.

Ten minutes later, I step back into the corridor, where, to my frustration, Demon Boy’s ex-whatever-the-title-is is waiting for me, tapping a foot impatiently against the carpeted floor. I try to walk past her without sparing her a second glance, but she grabs my elbow and stops me in my tracks.

“Let’s have a little chat,” she snarls, each and every word dripping with venom.

I sigh, resigned, as going against her would only prolong the moment and irritate me more. I just want to get it over with and eat my mochi ice cream.

Demon Boy’s ex-whatever-the-title-is—I should learn her name properly because it is annoying to keep referring to her that way—is much taller than me. Though she does not scare me in a threatening way, she does make me feel small and vulnerable.

“What’s your endgame with my Yuu-kun? You may have that cute and innocent face, but I bet you’re using him to become popular and envied in school,” she begins, taking on the demeanor and tone of a bully.

I force myself not to roll my eyes. “What is your name?”

My unexpected question takes her aback. “What?”

“I would like to know your name,” I insist, determined to stop referring to her as Demon Boy’s ex-whatever-the-title-is because it is too long and bothersome.

“Emica Ishii.”

My lips curve into an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Ishii-san.”

She seems suspicious. “Are you trying to change the subject?”

“No, I am not. Not that I need to justify my actions to you, but I hardly know Demon Bo—I mean, Hasegawa-san—and I do not intend, in the slightest, to strengthen our friendship, if I can call it that. He happened to escort me here because I could not find my way from the train station, but that was it,” I clarify, my tone polite.

“I don’t believe you.” Her murderous glare returns as she releases my elbow and threatens to slap me across the cheek with the palm of her right hand, a sickening smile spreading across her face. “If you cherish your pretty face, then you better stay away from my boyfriend, do you hear me? I hate little girls like you.”

As someone who has never personally experienced violence, it is only natural that her warning has an undesirable effect on me, causing me to take a few steps back, shaken. The idea that she would go this far because she feels intimidated by my mere presence is disturbing and inexplicable to me. I realize I was mistaken in thinking she does not scare me in a threatening way.

“That’s enough, Emica. Leave her alone.” Demon Boy appears out of nowhere and pulls me behind him. “Don’t harass her again,” he adds.

Ishii-san stomps her feet while throwing a tantrum. “Why are you protecting her? Is she the reason why you ended things with me? Are you in love with her?” She laughs manically. “I get it. You’re playing with her feelings because she’s a new conquest, but deep down, I’m the one you really love. I know it.”

She has lost it.

Demon Boy sighs. “I feel sorry for you, Emica. You need to step out of your fantasy world and face the reality that I’ve never had feelings of love for you. I apologize for inadvertently nurturing some of your dreams about me, but I never told you we were exclusive, nor did I promise you that we would be someday. Please, move on from me if you want to continue being my friend.”

As I find shelter in the one whom I once promised to avoid at all costs, confusion fills my head and chest, frightening me more than Ishii-san’s hostility.

“But Yuu, I love you,” Ishii-san pleads, almost falling to her knees.

“But I don’t love you back,” he retorts, his voice cold and firm. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

As a result of the rejection, Ishii-san storms away, but not before telling me that I will regret having crossed paths with her.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Demon Boy peers at me. “She didn’t hurt you, did she? I’m sorry I didn’t intervene sooner.”

I reward his adorable behavior with my most genuine smile. “She made threats but did not hurt me. Thank you for coming to my aid.”

He gawks at me and blushes, probably surprised by my smile, as it is my first time giving him a real one.

“Why are you out here in the corridor?” I wonder aloud, intrigued.

He clears his throat and shoves his hand into his jeans pocket. “I followed you when I saw Emica leaving the room right after you did because I figured she would harass you because of me. I’m sorry for causing you trouble with the other girls.”

“Do not worry about me, as humans’ opinions do not make any difference to me,” I assure him, still smiling.

“Humans’ opinions?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Well…”

He chuckles. “We should go back to the room before our friends get even more wrong ideas about you and me.”

“Okay,” I agree, forgetting about getting something to drink.

We rejoin Shiokawa-san and Watanabe-san in the karaoke room, where I spend the next two hours eating four bowls of mochi ice cream, letting my guard down a bit, and not regretting having come to that event.

* * *

*mochi ice cream - a small scoop of ice cream wrapped in a layer of pounded sticky rice dough