Nagata Katsumi, the name, if mentioned to anyone at our school, would have conjured instant images of unmatched beauty and lady-like elegance. Having her own fan club and dozens of admirers, it was safe to say she was like a school treasure, known and respected by nearly every student. Even those outside of school were attracted by her magnetism, rumors having it that she had been selected to model for a popular teen magazine.
To put it simply, she was a pretty, kind, and most of all, a friendly girl, at least on the surface level. A social butterfly, it was no surprise that we were similarly placed on the totem pole. Sadly, the fact we were so close in status ensured the presence of annoying rumors, many involving the two of us being in a secret romantic relationship.
The uke ikemen and the goddess,the pairing was disgustingly coined.
Besides the fact that such a story seemed like a poorly written Doujinshi found at Comiket, the fact that I was the submissive one pissed me off. How was it that my persona seemed feminine enough to be considered more so than an actual girl?
It wasn't like the two of us had even interacted often.Despite our similar status, it was more likely to find a gyaru and otaku conversing than seeing us talk to one another. Her many everchanging and jealous boyfriends made sure no other males, especially "threatening" ones like me, came too close.
And so I had always kept my distance due to a mixture of absolute disinterest and personal safety. As confident as I was in my own abilities, I was also equally confident in the fact that at least 70% of the female student body and nearly all the boys on campus could beat me up in a fight.
Thankfully, limiting my interactions with Nagata wasn't too hard.
Contrary to popular belief, the "cool" kids did not all hang in one giant cesspool of a clique. Instead the situation at our school was more reminiscent of ancient primal times, a single popular student along 1-2 slightly less popular ones leading their own group of normies. One could visualize the whole situation as a wolf pack where an Alpha male rules unchallenged supported by his retinue of Betas.
Not wanting to be seen as a Beta or even lower, I had begrudgingly taken up leadership of my own group. Finding the vast majority of my classmates utterly annoying and feeble minded, it still felt good being a king even if all my subjects were sheep and dogs.
With this system of separate cliques, apart from class or any large school events, most popular students, unless in the same group, didn't talk much to one another.
By confessing to me- a person outside of her social circle, Nagata had completely caught me off guard. Why anyone would just go and randomly confess to a mere acquaintance that they had barely talked to confounded me to no end. More surprisingly however, was the fact Nagata at the moment, still had a boyfriend, some dull meathead who was the basketball team's ace.
Did they recently break up or have a falling out? It was difficult keeping myself up to date on any school happenings without any social media.
Catching her breath, Nagata shyly averts my curious stare, looking furiously at the concrete ground before walking up to me, our bodies a few centimeters apart. Grasping my right palm tightly (gross) with both her hands, she begins to speak, her voice soft and meek.
"Higashi-kun, you probably already know this from the letter but I really like you and I haa-ave fe-eelings for you. Would you be willing to accept my confession and start going out?
Already annoyed by the entire situation, I feel tempted to just outright say 'No I am not willing, so scram and stop wasting my time' but ultimately decide not to. This was an influential girl we were talking about, one who had dozens of retarded and fanatic fans, fans who were best left to be unprovoked and docile.
Taking my silence as some sort of intense contemplation, Nagata clenches even harder, her nails digging into my skin from the suspense. What she was doing was not only disgusting, it was also quite painful.
Trying my best not to wince, I try to keep a steady voice as I give my response, if only to make this mutt let go.
"Are you sure su-uu-re ab-out this? Aren't you already da-aat-ting Miz-zu-ki-ku-uun aa-tt the mo-ment?"
Darn it … in my struggle I had completely screwed things up.Feeling Nagata's nails dig deeply into my tender creamy pale flesh as I spoke, my whole enunciation was turned into a stuttering and embarrassing mess. It didn't help that her shimmering eyes, expectant and full of hope were right in my face the entire time I was responding.
She was a master seductress. I'll give her that much.
Fortunately, my lack of outright acceptance seems to catch her off guard, as she steps back, startled, her hands finally letting go of mine, much to my relief.
"It really hasn't been working out with him. We haven't broken up yet if that's what you're asking," she adds after a brief pause, her expression on edge.
Hearing those words I couldn't help but give a questioning look. Did she seriously plan on me being her next boy-toy replacement after getting bored of that monkey?
This was just plain insulting.
Barring my ego shattering from the humiliation of being some cheap romantic replacement, I would have to worry for my own safety. Teenage hormonal boys were rowdy beastly creatures, incredibly possessive and territorial. As a stereotypical muscle brain, Nagata's boyfriend was the epitome of the term "toxic masculinity" as the Americans put it, glaring at anyone who so much as showed a hint of attraction to his girl. Needless to say, finding out that your girlfriend had dumped you only to immediately get with another guy, would be the perfect kindling for a brawl. The fact that he was notorious for getting into fights off school made me even more concerned for my immediate well being.
Rejection it was. Thankfully the decision was an easy one, unlike last time where the only issue was the age gap. Contrary to many of my peers, mature older women weren't my thing.
Wearing a conflicted expression full of faux agony, I laid my hand on Nagata's shoulder, letting out a small sad sigh. Even with our irreconcilable differences, I couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for what was about to happen. Your first rejection would sting pretty hard, especially if you were someone who has clearly never experienced the answer 'No' before.
"Look Nagata-san, I'm flattered that you feel that way about me but I don't think a relationship between us would work out. You still seem to have some unresolved issues with your boyfriend and I don't want to get caught up in some drama right before finals … it's not you, it's me." I then added for good measure.
Clean, concise, and professional- I was getting pretty good at handing out rejections. Maybe it was time to rethink my career path and become an HR officer. I could even use my experience living abroad to bring in new ethics programs.
I still didn't understand half of what I learned in that social justice class.
"I'll break up with him right now! Please -it was a stupid fling! The relationship means nothing to me. I was just playing around!"
You don't say…
As Nagata frantically tries to convince me otherwise, a strange feeling washes over me. As a high school student, it was quite common to hear statements like this from my female peers. Discussing which boy looked the hottest, or whether they should dump their partners for another guy, our school was home to a blossoming hookup culture, one which as of now, was beginning to rival even some colleges.
The point was that from fawning over boys who looked like their favorite boy band member to opening up a few extra buttons here and there, a mood of so called *romance" was a cornerstone part of the teenage experience. Boys would always give preferential treatment to those who were pretty and girls wanting to be queen in turn dressed "nicely". The whole dynamic contributed to an environment of loose promiscuity where even the faculty turned their cheeks the other way.
By all means, Nagata's words weren't anything especially distasteful. In my long and unfortunate time of being forced into various social outings, I had heard plenty worse.
Yet hearing these words come out of a person considered a "kind, pure beauty" somehow infuriated me.
Hiding behind a veil of innocent tenderness, these individuals were the lowest of the low. Putting on a mask of fake affection, they would approach a naive and hopeful young boy, breaching the way into his heart with their angelic looks and personality. Laughing at your trashy jokes, listening to your mundane concerns, giving counsel to your boring problems, you couldn't help but feel attracted. Before long you would confess and she would accept, igniting the beginning of a dark path.
Buying plush toys, clothes, and other accessories a penchant of "gift-giving" would begin to settle in. Soon the process would evolve to include chores, doing homework, passing test answers, going to convenience stores to buy juice for her friends, that sort of thing. A glorified errand boy, you would spend all day fetching snacks while she talked to other boys, callously ignorant. Your relationship which had started off so seemingly picturesque and perfect ended up as a complete sham.
In the end it was all the same: the teenage dream of romance was fueled not by virtuous desires of companionship and mutual understanding but rather the disgusting primal instincts of animals clad in human skin. Most high schoolers weren't actually interested in things like emotional support; they cared about gifts, money, and most of all… sex ! To say that high school romances accurately lived up to their name would be akin to asking if North Korea was actually a "Democratic Republic." In other words, the answer was a resounding No.
Nagata responding the way she did, was just like that … a sickening whore engaged in an everperversasive faux sense of romance.
Talking to her, who was so similar to that bitch, made me physically ill, my mind becoming filled with a disgusting sense of recollection. A recollection so traumatizing it had etched itself into my very psyche, haunting both father and I.
This was a transgression I could not ignore. For eleven years my resentment over the whole incident had festered like an open wound, turning into an uncontrollable force. Now it was let loose, hungry for vengeance, looking for anyone or thing to lash out to.
And what better person to lash out at than someone so similar to its main cause.
Moving instinctively, I wear what I could only assume is an eerie and sadistic smile as I walk toward the now frightened girl. Lowering my head to her slightly unsettled face, I begin to speak, my voice mock-sweet with a clear overtone of malice.
"Say Nagata-san … do you know anything about purchasing cars?"
"Ehh … Higashi-kun I don't understand … you're being a little scary right now! P-PPleease stop joking around."
Hearing her pleas, I play little mind to the meaningless babble, my anger at the moment, too potent to reconsider. Having no qualms over hurt feelings, I continue to proceed with my talk, unfettered excitement bursting through my veins.
"Well, the thing about cars is that once you purchase and drive one, the value immediately drops sharply. Even if the newly purchased car is driven for only a few seconds outside the dealership, the overall marketability drops significantly. In other words, the more used and past owners a car has, the cheaper it becomes. Tell me Nagata-san, how much value does a car have after having at least 4-5 previous owners?"
"WWh-at are you trying to say? I don't get what you are trying to tell me?"
At this point Nagata's once bashful and embarrassed demeanor is gone, replaced by frantic confusion and fear. Seeing her whole transition in character was really entertaining.
My self restraint eroding, it was time to end my apparent cryptiveness and just bluntly give an answer. I had already wasted too much time for such a stupid reason.
Moving my head even closer until its lips were mere centimeters from her ears, I spoke with as much venom as I could possibly muster. Personally I didn't really despise Nagata as a person, I just despised what she was.
Hate the sin, love the sinner was that how it went? It had been far too long since I last heard the phrase.
"What I'm saying is that I'm rejecting you. Just like how some people wouldn't want to buy a car that has been used, I don't wish for a used partner. Why would I lower myself and have a person who has probably been playing around the past couple years as my girlfriend. The very thought makes me want to vomit."
Sloppy seconds were horrible, and sloppy fourths and fifths were exponentially worse. Besides my obvious distaste for such an individual, my pride wouldn't allow me to accept such a thing in the first place.
"Higashi-kun I -"
"Did you not get the message? Let me be more clear. I don't want to be your boyfriend ... I don't want to be lovers or even friends … and I certainly don't have any sort of attraction to you. Do you get it now? I don't want the interest of some dirty skank however pretty she looks on the outside. YOU. ARE. WORTHLESS. TO. ME. "
Finally getting my message, she slumps onto her knees, head downcast, tears pattering onto the concrete ground.
Asserting my true feelings, a sense of relief fills my chest. The whole experience had been cathartic, reducing a lot of stress I had over finals. Even better was the fact I had put a girl like Nagata in her place.
I could practically hear the cheers from father and all his friends once I told them about this whole incident at the next meeting.
Thoroughly satisfied, I turn around and begin my walk to the nearest karaoke place. Hopefully those idiots hadn't ordered anything too expensive like fried chicken or pizza. Paying some 2200+ yen for some subpar variants of fast food staples was a huge rip off.
Switching my thoughts back over to Nagata I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit regretful over what had just happened. Would she go crying to her boyfriend and have him beat me up? Was I going to have to bring bear mace tomorrow?
Trying my best to come up with a strategy, a sinister feeling of malice washes over my body without warning. Saturating the atmosphere with pure terror, every single instinct in my body screams for me to run if I value my life. Yet I stand still, frozen in abject fear as even the weather itself turns ominous, howling gales of wind suddenly appearing out of nowhere, screaming like vengeful spirits as they swirl about.
Completely drenched in a cold sweat, I stumble onto the ground, my legs sticky and all wombly like a frightened baby deer. Still out of curiosity or perhaps foolishness, I turn around ever so slowly to look, trying my best to see what is going on.
What was that warm wet sensation trickling down my legs?
Before I could die from embarrassment, a villainous cackle begins to echo throughout the courtyard.
Thunderously loud, as the sound shoots past me, the entire sky becomes furnished with a sickly purple hue,sunlight getting blotted out by the malaise. Simultaneously numerous small black tendrils begin to appear, littering the whole area, flailing erratically, their bodies clearly searching for something … or someone.
The whole scene seemed like a cheesy budget horror production film but the fact it was somehow real made it more terrifying than any cutting edge blockbuster.
Quickly regaining my senses, I am about to make a run for it before I am stopped, the dark tendrils bolting towards me, wrapping themselves around both of my legs and arms. Locking me in place, they drag my body, pulling it ever so slowly to … Nagata?
Shit.
It was at this point that I began to severely rethink my life choices.
Was it when I called her a whore? When I rejected her ? When I said that she was worthless and that being friends was out of the question. That can't be it, she was clearly after a more than friends relationship. Maybe I can just blame this whole thing on dad, he's the one who made me like this…
An apology was out of the question. Even an idiot would know that a simple "sorry" uttered right after a scornful insult probably isn't the most sincere or genuine.
Thankfully I had plenty of time to decide my next course of action, calming down drastically upon realizing the snail's pace at which I was being dragged.
Sometimes I feel like life itself is just one big comedic play, one very stupid terribly unfunny play.
Waiting for what seems like hours, I am finally brought before the demon -magician or whatever spectral being Nagata was.
Getting a closer look at her face, I was pleasantly pleased to see her relatively unchanged appearance. Personally I had expected to see at least some jagged wings or dark prominent horns. Where was the black sawtooth armor or incredibly revealing bikini suit?
Thanks to our shitty otaku culture my entire perception of the supernatural had been subconsciously ruined. Whenever I thought of some eldritch horror now, all that came to mind was some moe anime girl. Lovecraft probably would be rolling in his grave if he knew what became of his work.
Still clad in uniform, Nagata for the most part, looked no different.Surprisingly, appearance wise she looked like the exact same person accounting for her changed facial expression.
Bloodshot eyes, tear marks, and a maniacal smile that practically promised retribution, gone was the image of a pure highschool girl. In its place was a mentally unstable sadistic devil who would probably torture me to death for giving her the humiliation of a lifetime.
And I was not blonde haired, a crusader, or some anime character.
Fully realizing the gravity of my situation, I squeeze every last modicum of energy and effort into one final push, hoping to squirm out and run to safety. Somehow detecting my intentions, the tendrils tighten their grip, crushing and twisting my limbs in angles equally grotesque as they were painful.
6 out of 206 was a new high for me.
However before I can scream for help, the overwhelming sense of terror returns, this time twice fold. Thick with the scent of bloodlust, I was finally brought face to face with the bitch who tore my tendons along with my pride.
I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. The phrase repeated itself over and over again like a broken record as I prepared for the end, my vision getting cloudy from disappointment.
To be gone from this world scared me. There was so much I wished to do before I died. Graduate high school, go to a prestigious university, become a big shot in some venture capital firm, humiliate that disgusting whore for leaving me and father, get revenge on the otaku who convinced her to run away, if I was to die, I wanted to at least complete the last two.
Bracing myself for the inevitable, I straightened up my back and cleared my throat.If I was to die it was to be standing up, like a true Sigma male, full of masucline energy and pride. To beg for an impossible outcome would be the action of a lowly Beta bitch. Glowering defiantly at the witch who was to spell my end, I offered a single final message of spite.
"Are you PMS-ing?"
Goodbye world. Goodbye Father. I hope I made you proud.
For a minute, a tense silence ensues as both Nagata and I lock eyes, staring at each other hatefully. It was probably the longest I had stared at a girl so deeply in the last six years. Despite her menacing expression and the deadly situation in general, the sight still was one to behold, her dashing looks intact.
In my opinion, her new facial expressions added a unique charm.
Then in the middle of our standoff, Nagata starts to suddenly giggle, her shrill voice carrying throughout the courtyard, as she clutches and heaves her body. Once satisfied, Ms.Pyscho puts on a murderous smile, finally speaking after minutes of silence.
" You know- I can almost admire your stupidity- almost. Out of all the things you could say to my face in this situation you chose by far the dumbest. It baffles me how you treat this entire situation like some sort of a joke. Wearing that stupid smirk on your face even knowing you're at death's doorsteps just shows volume of your stupid arrogance. But you know what- there's no need to act dignified and pretentious, especially after peeing your pants."
And there goes all the effort spent trying to forget that … bitch.
"Said person who peed his pants was your crush only a few minutes ago. Whatever happened to your feelings towards him? Last I heard you wanted him and you to become a couple. I wonder how well that went?" I counter back mockingly.
No one embarrasses me and gets off scot free. Looking objectively, having a little spillage is better than being vehemently rejected and called a whore by your romantic interest.
Thinking about it, I do feel like I did cross a red line. Too late now though.
Immediately the witch's face darkens in response, her beautiful features marred by clear annoyance and a hint of … sadness?
"That was before …" she stutters, before taking a brief pause to glare scornfully at me " I …" she continues, stopping abruptly before perking up in excitement as if she had reached an epiphany.
Bipolar on top of homicidal- I feel like I dodged a bullet by rejecting her.
Pointing out her index finger, Nagata thrusts it hard against my chest, scolding me like I was a disobedient child. Bending slightly forward as she does so, I try my best to avoid ogling her sizable chest.
I was a teenage boy, goddamn it! Regardless of my moral stance on sexuality, I still didn't possess the discipline of a monk. Besides, the feelings of disgust from such violation of personal space outweighed any lustful thoughts.
I swear if you touch me one more time…
Before I can utter any protest, the witch swiftly looks back at my face, hungrily smacking her lips. Putting on a sinister smile and air of faux cheerfulness, she moves even closer, finally enlightening me on whatever she has to say.
"I have just the punishment for a person like you! " she giggles evilly, "Yes - prison is a very good punishment for bad people, people who I hate and despise," enunciating the last section more loudly for emphasis. Angling her head perpendicularly, she once again returns to a serious tone.
"I might be able to forgive you if you apologize and agree to be my personal slave."
Look I get that you're heartbroken but can you just quit the whole crazy girl act. Quite frankly you're only embarrassing yourself and even I am feeling some second hand embarrassment right now. So please just stop for both our sakes.
Feeling her warm breath, blowing right into my face, as she speaks, I try my best to not to visibly cringe. Thankfully I was pretty decent at holding my breath, so I really didn't smell anything too funky.
Still, this has to be against some sort of school harassment policy.
Just as I am about to ask the bitch for at least a little bit of clarification, a sharp pain intrudes into my chest. Collapsing onto the ground I watch as Nagata prances around even doing a … victory lap? Lying still, I am helpless, subjected to the terrible sight; feeling the life exit my body. Soon it all turns black, the last thing I can recall a faint murmur from my executioner.
"Enjoy your new life in another world!"
Barely registering her words, I quickly become enveloped into an all encompassing darkness.