Outsider Syndrome | ✓

Chapter 5 - "Hot and Cold Keiko"

Did this girl want to get slugged? Oh boy, was I going to slug her.

My nails dug into my palms forcefully enough to draw blood. It was only sheer miracle I managed to sustain my twitching smile.

"Oh, don't be silly, Koshiba. Obviously I'll eat a lot. I am a growing girl."

"Don't you think you've grown enough?"

Just one punch. One punch and I'll never ask for anything again.

Igarashi clasped my wrists before I could draw them from my lap. He had them fastened so tightly I couldn't break free. I wanted to yell so badly. Defend myself, even if it meant exposing him. But a promise was a promise. I had to keep him hidden.

"Igarashi isn't here, all right?" I spat, this time without any pleasantries. "Leave."

Koshiba snorted. "That reminds me. . . I've actually been meaning to talk to you about something, Kisaragi."

My furrowed eyebrows rose. "Talk?"

"Do you mind?" Her typically radiant smile was back as she gestured to the seat across from me.  "It's rather important."

I lurched froward. Wait! She's planning on sitting. . .

"Uh!" I shouted, wide-eyed as she shuffled over to sit. "Hold on! That's. . ."

"Only for a bit," she prodded, planting her palm on the table. "That's not a problem, is it?"

My lips flapped wordlessly like a fish. If she sat, she'd notice. She'd one hundred percent find out!

My legs darted out before I realized it.

Koshiba stopped in her tracks. Her eyelid spasmed. "I'm afraid I cannot sit if you do that."

"S-sorry!" I chortled as I stretched them out further on the street. "My legs are so long I need the entire booth to sit, ha ha. If you want to talk, you can standing up."

Koshiba's nonchalance vanished. Her bangs cast shadows over her eyes, leaving an ominous feel in the air. "Are you hiding something from me, Kisaragi?"

"Wha—what would I have to hide?"

She didn't respond. Instead, she bended to look under the table.

The shrill scream that filled the air was instantaneous. Koshiba lost her balance. All nearby eyes in darted in our direction.

But I was high on adrenaline. My thoughts were going haywire.

"Help! Somebody help! She's trying to look up my skirt!"

Even though I'm wearing jeans.

Koshiba flinched. She faced me, neck jerking left and right. "Wh-what are you— Kisaragi!"

"Ah! My virgin legs!"

More like, jeans. Virgin jeans.

"Hey!" She was desperate. "Stop making such a scene—"

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?"

The waiter that had arrived at the scene towered over Koshiba. His expression was far from friendly.

I sobbed into my hands before Koshiba could dare respond. "I-I was just trying to enjoy my meal when this stranger started harassing me. I'm just a fragile sixteen-year-old girl. I don't deserve this!"

With only hefty waterworks and words, the waiter's demeanour turned hostile. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave, ma'am."

Koshiba flubbed in defence—insisting, no pleading she was innocent—but the man wasn't listening. He mercilessly guided her out of the store without even the slightest change of expression.