I struggle through my morning classes, fantasies of my first date with Eriko constantly interrupting my concentration. Images of her batting her eyelashes and tucking her hair behind her ear are a welcome distraction.

“What's up, lover boy?” I hear from behind as someone grabs my shoulders and flings me forward, making me almost fall into my food.

Takeru and Reiya, my newly acquired friends from Art History appear in front of me along with Koki. They claim seats around me at the table we’ve been eating lunch together at every day.

“Were you trying to avoid us?” Takeru asks, still shaking my shoulder.

“Huh?” I’m confused.

“We were waving at you in the cafeteria, but you were oblivious the whole time,” Koki elaborates.

“What were you so deep in thought about?” Reiya asks.

“Getting laid tonight, obviously,” Takeru laughs.

Reiya is the only one laughing at Takeru’s unnecessary comment.

“That's not happening tonight,” I say, minding the fact that Koki’s here. “I'm not trying to get her in bed.”

“Oh right, I forgot she's your favorite,” Takeru chuckles.

“What are you gonna do if it goes well?” Reiya asks.

“Ask her out on a second date,” I answer. If you were to crack open the skull of either of these guys, you’d only find an extra set of balls.

“That's it? Man, you need a plan!” Takeru exclaims.

“I do?”

“Why would he need a plan?” Koki scoffs.

“Yeah!” Reiya interjects. “Doesn't Makoto know what he's doing?”

“Makoto knows how to get in their pants but not in their hearts!” Takeru claims.

For whatever reason, Takeru and Reiya have one-sidedly decided I'm a huge playboy within the one week we've known each other. I’ve already denied it numerous times, but they just tell me to stop being humble, even though the only girl I’ve kissed out of sheer curiosity was in junior high school. She still abuses my phone with constant messages and calls to this day.

I look over at Koki. He's chewing his burger and watching us with a dim expression.

“Koki, you're being quiet today,” I observe.

His face lights up again. “Am I? Sorry.”

“Takeru, you can’t talk about Eriko like a pervert. She's Koki's friend, remember?” Reiya says a little too late.

“Who are you calling a pervert? You're the pervert!” Takeru retorts.

They argue with each other like a couple of kids on a playground. I glance back at Koki, but he’s laughing at them.

I wait for Eriko at the busy Hachiko Exit of Shibuya Station while the sun is setting. I watch several other couples in the crowd unite while taking deep breaths to cool my nerves and peeking at the time on my phone every minute or so. When she arrives ten minutes late, her floral dress and perfectly curled hair make me forget to ask her if she had trouble getting here.

I take her to a restaurant I’d reserved in advance. As we exit the elevator, I watch her grin while she looks around the interior with sparkly eyes. The walls are covered in shelves packed with books, magazines, and manga. The room is dim, with most of the light coming from yellow orbs hanging from the ceiling. We’re shown to a table and I give Eriko the seat with the better view. The food menu is filled with photos of pasta, risotto, rice dishes, salads, and cakes, all of which are twice the price I’m used to paying. Regardless, I smile at her and say, “Order anything you like. It's on me.”

“No, no! Don't worry!” She shakes her head as she looks up at me with her beautiful dark eyes. “I'll get my own bill.”

“No, really, it's on me,” I insist.

After we order, we talk about our classes and our first week of university life. She mentions she's excited to get into photography with her club. Curious, I ask more about it until our food arrives.

“I was really surprised to hear from Koki that you bake,” she says as I begin to twirl my pasta.

My heart sinks. I had already forgotten about that.

“How did you learn to make macarons?”

“Oh, uh,” I stammer. “My mom taught me.”

“Oh wow! You must be really close with your mom.”

I nod and try to remember if I've ever asked my mom to teach me anything aside from homework.

“I've tried several times to make them, but something always goes wrong,” she says with a pout as she pokes at her risotto. “How do you control the humidity?”

Humidity? What does humidity have to do with macarons?

“I, um… I use a humidifier.”

She blinks. “A humidifier?”

I nod. No turning back now.

“Do you mean a dehumidifier?”

“Ah, yes!” I say with a forced laugh. “I meant to say dehumidifier. I use one of those.”

“Hmm,” She takes her first bite, her eyes drifting upwards as she appears to be thinking. “I tried that too, but it didn't work well.”

“It does… if you… put it close to the oven,” I force.

“So you control the humidity while baking too? I never thought of that.” She pauses and knits her eyebrows. “But does that help? I wouldn't think that—”

“Excuse me!” I call to a server. Someone. Anyone. Help me please.

“How may I help you?” he asks as he approaches us.

“Can I get some more water?” I point to my glass.

He looks down at it and back up at me with a perplexed face, but then agrees to fetch a pitcher of water.

“Your glass is still full, though,” Eriko giggles.

I grab the glass and chug as much water as I can.

“Mmh, yeah. This pasta is really spicy.” I wipe my lips.

She looks down at my cream pasta and says nothing. Everything I say is just making the situation worse, isn’t it?

I quickly change the subject to tell her about a funny scene in a movie I saw recently. She tells me about a similar episode with Koki back in junior high. We spend the rest of the night laughing and talking about everything other than god-forsaken macarons.

At the register, I try to pay for her dinner, but again, she tells me not to and pays for herself. Once again, her independence strikes me in the heart.

I see her off at the station ticket gate. She tells me she had a lot of fun, and we wave to each other while she walks toward her platform. She disappears into the crowd and I instantly want to see her again. On the train, I send her a message telling her to get home safely. Soon after pressing send, I open a browser and type “how to make macarons” into the search bar.

After getting home and having a shower, I snatch my phone up off the foot of my bed to find a LIME notification but it’s from a group chat. I skip over the group and Haruka’s messages to Eriko's. Still no “Read” next to my last message. She must not be looking at her phone.

Fierce sunlight on my face and the snarling of stray cats outside my window force me awake. I roll over to grab my phone off the desk. I’m happy to say there is now a red 1 next to Eriko’s profile photo.

Eriko
Thanks! U too 🙂

I immediately type a reply.

Makoto
Good morning!
What r u gonna do today?

With nothing planned for the day, I browse through my Intogram and double-tap every photo, not really paying attention to what I’m looking at. In the back of my mind, I'm kind of hoping Eriko will say she’s free, even though we literally just saw each other last night.

An hour passes. No new message notifications appear at the top of the screen. I look through my own photos and upload a few I’d taken over the past week as the clock nears noon.

No reply. Weird. Up until yesterday, she was replying to me every few minutes. She must be busy today.

I open MeTube to watch a video or two. I’m eventually clicking on video after video before checking my phone again. Still no reply.

My stomach finally convinces me to get out of bed. The kitchen is quiet and empty today. I prepare a bowl of instant noodles and head back to my room to check my phone, only to be disappointed yet again. I try to calculate how many hours it’s been since I sent my message. Maybe she went out and left her phone at home. Or maybe she forgot to charge it. Or was her phone stolen? I click on Eriko’s chat again. This time “Read” appears next to my last message.

I let out a heavy sigh and begin to play the previous night back in my head. Did I do something wrong? Maybe I should have tried harder to pay for her. Or was it the conversation about macarons? Maybe she caught on. That would mean she probably thinks I’m a liar now.

The day progresses dull and sluggish. My phone vibrates occasionally but never for the reason I want it to. At one point, I open Intogram only to find Eriko had just posted a photo of herself in a restaurant. She looks beautiful in her dark blue dress as she sits across from whoever took the photo at their two-seater table.

Before I know it, my room is tinted with orange and I'm trying to picture my next conversation with Koki, Takeru, and Reiya. Would they tease me for failing to get the girl? What would Koki say?

On Sunday, after confirming that Eriko still has not replied to my message, I leave the house to go anywhere else for a change of scenery. Hopefully, that will help clear my mind.

I take the train a few stations over and get off at Kagurazaka, an area I’m unfamiliar with. After a stroll down the old-fashioned shopping street, I enter a shop that looks like a cross between a bookstore and a café. The inside is spacious and most of the other customers are sitting and reading with coffee mugs in front of them. Jazz music plays in the background of chatting and espresso machine screeches.

I order a latte and, after a short wait, the barista hands me a mug. Latte art of a bear smiles up at me. I don’t have the same cheer in me that it does. I frown down at it, but it just keeps smiling. Despite the rain cloud in my chest, I take a photo of it anyway and upload it to my Intogram story. Warm sunlight soaks into my cheeks from the window in front of my seat. It’s like everything about this cafe is telling me to cheer up.

I only knew Eriko for a week or so. I guess I couldn't have liked her that much. Plus, I'm still only a week into my university life! There should be plenty more opportunities to meet other girls. I shouldn’t feel so hung up over getting rejected once.

I’m still in the middle of comforting myself when I completely lose track of my thoughts at the sight of a familiar face passing by the window. I freeze. Shun is followed closely by a tall, slender girl with short brown hair wearing denim overalls. I huddle into the table, blocking my face from them with my coffee mug.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch them enter the cafe together. I don’t think he’s noticed me. I continue to shield my face with my hand, remaining hunched over my happy teddy bear. Should I make a run for it while he's ordering? No, I'm too close to the order counter and he might notice me. I need to wait for him to sit down somewhere. There were lots of open seats near the back of the cafe. He'll go there for sure.

I can hear him chat with the girl about what to order. Their casual language gives away that they’re friends. Shun’s tone sounds entirely different from the way I’m used to hearing him speak. For a second, I wonder if it’s really him. I sneak a peek at his choker to confirm. It’s definitely him.

“Let's sit here,” the girl suggests, her voice almost immediately behind me.

No, let's not. Please.

“Okay,” Shun says in the most agreeable tone I've ever heard from him.

The scratching of chair legs on the tile floor resonates directly behind me. I instantly regret my decision to stay seated while they ordered.

“How have classes been for you so far?” the girl asks.

“Not too bad. I'm looking forward to the final project this year,” Shun answers.

“Only you would look forward to a final project.” The girl's voice is smiling.

I find myself actively listening in on their conversation. Shun laughs in a way I’ve never heard him laugh before. It’s not a snicker nor a sneer. It’s a normal, healthy laugh. I find myself tempted to turn around to see how his face looks right now, but suppress the urge.

“But are you really okay, Shun? You worry me sometimes,” the girl says.

“I'm fine!” he says with a laugh.

“Are you sure?” She sounds unconvinced.

“Yes, I'm sure! I'm more worried about you! It’s like you keep getting thinner and thinner every time I see you.”

“I guess that means those expensive yoga lessons have been paying off!”

They both laugh. I roll my eyes.

I’m bewildered. Shun hadn’t come off to me as the type to be able to handle any kind of relationship, but it sounds like they have a pretty normal friendship. I pictured him as someone who smacks down every individual he crosses paths with. Maybe he gets along better with girls. Either way, it’s hard to believe the person sitting behind me is really the same angry little man from across the hallway.

Unable to control my curiosity, I slowly peek over my shoulder to see the short-haired girl sitting side-by-side with Shun. Almost immediately, her eyes latch onto me. A siren and red flashing lights go off inside my head and I dart for the door, somehow managing to escape before she has the chance to say anything to Shun about me.

By the time I start my work shift, Eriko has mostly been pushed out of my mind and replaced with the scene at the cafe. How can a single person have two entirely different personalities? Does that girl know he’s an asshole to other people? Maybe his friendship with her is a façade. Or maybe his attitude toward me and the other guys is the façade. Which one is the real Shun?

“Slow day today, huh?” Manami says with a bored expression as she tucks an empty food tray under the counter next to the register.

I agree and nod. With no one to wait on and no more tasks to complete, she rocks back and forth, humming off-key.

“Hey, Manami?” I grab her attention.

“Hey, Blondie,” she replies.

“Have you ever known anyone who is a certain way when they’re with you and a completely different person with someone else?”

“Oh, yeah.” She nods. “I knew a person like that.”

“You did?” I say, waiting to hear more.

“There was this girl who was a huge bitch to me, but acted all sweet and cutesy toward my boyfriend. Next thing I knew, my boyfriend was fucking her and we broke up.”

“Oh.” I feel bad for asking.

I make it through my first closing shift and head home around midnight. Assuming all my roommates are sleeping, I try to be as quiet as I can when entering the house and walking down the dimly lit hallway. As I’m approaching my door, Shun suddenly emerges from his room in his pajamas.

“Oh shit!” he exclaims as he jumps back a bit. “You scared me.”

“Shhh,” I press a finger over my lips and pass by him.

“You think I care if the others hear me?” he huffs.

He stops and watches me as if expecting something from me. After what I’d seen of him earlier, I’m not sure how to react. All I can manage is to frown at him before quietly entering my room.