All Right! Fine! I’ll Take You! – Zaimokuza Gaiden – Prologue – A (Formerly) Popular Girl

Life isn’t fair.

There, I said it. Any illusions about a perfectly ordered world where good things happen to good people are no more than lies we tell to children so they don’t cry even more at night, as if the annoying existence that a little brother already is could somehow become even more nightmarish when forced to confront cruel reality.

Growing up has as much to do with uncovering the comforting lies we used to believe in as with learning how to better lie to others.

But, as much as life isn’t fair… it has rules.

“It’s been a bit awkward lately, hasn’t it?” Haruka states. And she follows one of the rules.

Avoid a direct confrontation, frame issues as if they were somehow unrelated to you. You aren’t doing anything, just pointing out the way things are, the way things stand. Who would argue with reality, after all?

“Yeah, kinda. It feels like the air needs some clearing. What do you think, Sagami?” Yukko is quick to follow up on the opening. That’s another rule: majority wins. It isn’t about being fair. It isn’t about democracy or some far-fetched ideal. It’s about mob rule.

Two against one. The mob has spoken.

“A bit, yeah,” I agree. Because I’ve no other choice but to do it.

It’s in the rules, after all.

“You know what I think we all need?” Haruka continues, brushing a strand of brown hair behind her shoulder in a way she may think doesn’t come across as practiced in front of a mirror.

If you can’t pull that off, go with a bob cut, you moron.

Actually, don’t: you’ve already copied far too many things from me.

“What?” Yukko continues the little skit, twirling a black lock between her fingers.

Which, speaking of needing more rehearsals…

“A little something to get a laugh out of!” Yeah, sure. You just came up with this, haven’t you, Haruka? Seriously, it’s taking me far more acting not to roll my eyes than it’s taking you to pretend you aren’t smirking at me.

Because we all know who’ll be the butt of the joke.

It’s in the rules, after all.

Never go against the group, the mob. And, if you do, accept the price.

That is, if you don’t want to be ostracized.

Which isn’t an option.

It took too much to reach this place. To be the second most popular girl in our class, the leader of my own clique.

It took too much effort to let it vanish just because of a couple of… incidents. To have it all taken from me just because I failed two times and had to… rely on others.

On him. I had to rely on him, the same guy who cast me down, who made it so I could face up to Haruka and Yukko and have them back off from their stupid play to cripple the Sports Festival just so they didn’t have to do any kind of work.

My friendsbacked me into a corner. My… all right, not my enemy, because I’m not going to be this melodramatic about the whole thing, but my guy-I-would-rather-die-than-date helped me push back.

He knows the rules. So he knows how to fight back.

He must also have known what would come afterward; it’s just that he doesn’t care.

… I haven’t practiced martial arts in years, and I still want to punch him.

Speaking of wanting to punch someone…

“Oh? Like what?” Yukko, dear, if some guy with a van with tinted windows ever tells you you have a future in acting… Actually, never mind. Go for it. It’s not like you’ve got the brains for much else.

“How about we get Sagami to go on a date?”

“… What?” I can’t help but say.

Haruka looks at me and doesn’t quite smirk. Yukko looks at Haruka as if expecting a cookie, still twirling her black lock.

I look at both of them as if they’ve lost their minds.

“You know, a date! Get you all prettied up and ready to rock some lucky guy’s world? It will be fun!” the brown-haired bitch has the gall to gleefully proclaim.

Just a month ago, and it may have been me who would have felt comfortable acting this nauseatingly condescending.

“Right. Fun. And the lucky guy in question would be?”

She pauses as if thinking about it. As if she and Yukko hadn’t decided days ago how this conversation would go.

As if she doesn’t already know.

I swear, if the name out of her lips is Hachiman Hikigaya, rules or not—

“Well, we want a fun story, so… who could be more fun than Zaimokuza?”

…

I look at her, at the way she exchanges cruel mirth with the flunky who keeps twirling her black hair—is she flirting? Oh gods, is this foreplay for her?

I feel like I need a shower.

But, first, I should clarify a very important detail:

“Who the heck is Zaimokuza?”