On the evening of the day I ate meat sauce for lunch, I had some free time and was about to prepare dinner when I heard the doorbell ringing.
(Uh, Who is it?)
If it was a newspaper solicitor or a door-to-door salesman, I could just say no, but if it was a friend of Mikaâs, I didnât think I could play Mikaâs role well in front of them.
(Oh no, oh no! What should I do?)
As I was panicking, I heard a knock on the door of the house.
âAre you there, Nogami-sama? Youâre here, arenât you? The lights are on, and I can hear some noise from the TV or computer⊠Youâre here, arenât you?â
(Scary⊠But her voice is a femaleâs. Does she know Mika, after all?)
Could it be Yuki? I thought about it, but it was very different from the impression I had gotten from her message on my phone, and she would not use honorifics with Mika.
As I remained silent and said nothing, the knocking on the door, which had been gentle earlier, became stronger and stronger. Tak!
There was a resounding sound.
Was she there to collect some sort of debt? As I was wondering this, the doorknob starting to turn.
âWho are you?â
I let out a gruff voice, feeling a little angry at the thought of breaking down the door to my apartment, and at her behaviour of trying to break into my house without permission.
âItâs Mamori. Chika Mamori Chinatsu. Do you remember me?â
No, I didnât know.
But the fact that she asked if I remembered her, it seemed like I knew her.
To be honest, I didnât want to talk much because it might bring out a lot of things, but if I left it like this, the door would soon be destroyed.
âHuhâŠâ
Letting out a sigh of contemplation, I opened the door and found⊠no one there.
âHuh? Is this a prank?â
âOver here.â
I heard a voice from a little below me, so I looked over to see a girl with bob cut black hair and red glasses was there.
She was wearing a long-sleeved grey top, a black jersey with a white sidelines underneath, and a light blue apron.
Maybe she was about 140âł tall? And I was not going to say what, but she was probably an A.
âPlease donât patronize me.â
ââŠâŠ.â
âDonât sit there silently and try to avoid making eye contact with me. Do you think Iâm an idiot?â
What was I supposed to do?
Well, even though she was a little short, I could still see her, and to be honest, I think she was doing it on purpose.
She was violently handling the door to my apartment and I was a little angry with her.
âCh-ch-check?â
âOh, Saki! You were okay! This girl didnât do anything to her!â
âHey, hey, donât go in like that!â
âWhatâs with the manly language? And is there something wrong with it if I come into your house?
Oh, youâre the kind of person who canât go out in public without makeup on. Thatâs why I hate 1grayu.â
âNo, Iâm not talking about that, Iâm talking about manners!â
I mean, she was very prejudiced against gyaru, and she was kind of difficult for me.
âOh, what? Nogami-san, did you just say that to me?â
âNo, of course not.â
âNo matter how many times I warned you about things at the park, you would always say, âShut up,â or snicker at my breastsâŠ?
Oh, by the way, you asked me who I was earlier. I think you asked me that?âŠâ
(Yeah, thatâs it. She seems to be a victim of Mika. And sheâs trembling.)
How much common sense did the former owner of the body Iâm in have?
In the room, I was holding my head and shouting in my mind, âMika-san!â and Chinatsu-san still trembling, saying, âI canât believe this gal has common senseâŠâ
And then there were the three of us, Saki-chan tilting her head as she watched us.
Saki-chanâs popularity is so high that the main story is already becoming a dusty story with her, so if you see anything other than a heartwarming story, just think of it as a side story.
1
Gyaru (Japanese: ăźăŁă«; Japanese pronunciation: [ÉĄÊČaÌ ÉŸÉŻÌá”]), a Japanese transliteration of the English slang word gal, is a Japanese fashion subculture. ⊠An alternative explanation is that the subculture started with jeans brand Levi Straussâs 1968 advertisement campaign for a womenâs jeans line named âLeviâs For Gals.â