113 Eri's Big Self-Exposure
Under the streetlights at night, the blonde girl walked in front. Every time she took three big steps and widened the distance from the boy, she would stop and glance back at him.
From childhood, under the influence of her hardcore otaku parents, she had been exposed to many anime and illustrations of that kind.
She became fascinated with drawing, gradually honing her outstanding skills, gained her parents' support, started drawing doujinshi, and earned the love of many readers.
Now she had already become well-known in the doujin world as Kashiwagi Eri, a famous illustrator whose doujinshi always sold at a good price. Of course, it was her parents who handled the sales.
Since she was little, she had always been taken care of by the boy, and so she grew fond of him. That's why, back then, when she was denied, it truly hurt her.
She wanted to make up, but she was also afraid of being rejected again, so she had always kept that ambiguous, neither-close-nor-distant relationship with him.
But now she had realized—there seemed to be a misunderstanding somewhere. That made her want to ask what was really going on, but she didn't know how to bring it up.
Because she was too torn inside, Eri decided to just throw caution to the wind.
"Shirou!" Eri glared at the boy, then lowered her head and asked in a small voice: "…When did you first find out that I was drawing doujinshi?"
"You gave Komachi some of your drawings, didn't you? She once praised you, saying you were amazing at drawing cute yet slightly lewd pictures. Also, your mom actually hid it from me on purpose. She often said things like, 'My Eri won some award' or 'Her books sold so well.'" Shirou answered.
"As I thought… That siscon Komachi, and my mom too—how could they betray their own daughter like this…" Eri groaned, clutching her face in anguish.
As much as she didn't want to admit it, it seemed that her mom was actually closer to Shirou than she was.
All these years, she had treated Shirou as someone who couldn't understand her, as an enemy who thought watching anime and playing games was childish. So she had deliberately, or unintentionally, avoided him.
She was a homebody shuttling only between school, home, and Akihabara. Even when she went to his house, it was always to hang out with Komachi.
News like "Shirou sent over a return gift" or "Shirou recently started raising a dog" always came to her only through her mother.
Every time she heard Shirou had won some award or done something admirable, his face would involuntarily appear in her mind, and it just annoyed her all the more.
So their relationship had always stayed somewhere above friends but below close friends.
And yet, she thought maybe this was fine. After all, her hobbies had once been lectured about by Shirou when they were kids—even though she had already hidden away the things no boyfriend should see.
But still, he lectured her. Back then, she was already depressed from being sick all the time and not being able to properly attend school. So in the end, she had just kicked Shirou out of her room, not caring about his feelings.
What she didn't expect was that after being kicked out, Shirou really never came back again.
Even though they were just middle schoolers, still underage, wasn't that rule made by a bunch of hypocritical adults—people with dark hearts, doing who knows what behind closed doors—so they had to enforce "morality" on others?
Playing galgames, what's wrong with that?! If teenagers can't vent their excess energy on games, the world will only get worse. In an age where people can scream insults at each other for half an hour over a video game, if they can't vent through games, who knows where all that aggression will end up?
But what she never expected… was that he had actually known from the very beginning.
So her sneaky galgame playing had been exposed right from the start…
Thinking back on it now, his lectures at the time were all something like:
"Eri, even if you're sick at home, don't play so many of those kinds of games." [gently phrased] "Eri, play fewer games. Come train with me instead, I'll teach you swordsmanship or archery." [with kindness] "Eri, even if you're depressed and want to vent, you can't drown yourself in those kinds of games." [with heartfelt concern]
"Since you knew already, you should have just told me straight from the start!" Eri burst out in embarrassed anger, charging forward and whipping her long ponytail into the boy's face.
"I gave you plenty of hints already, and then you drove me out. How could I dare bring it up again?" Shirou reached out and caught the golden strands of her hair, cool and silky to the touch—surprisingly nice—and idly twirled them with his fingers. "Besides, whenever you came to my place, you only ever went into Komachi's room. When we ran into each other at school, you either ignored me or just snorted and ran away."
Shirou looked her straight in the eye and said sincerely: "So I'll say it clearly now. I've always thought of you as a good friend. If the things I said before ever hurt you, then I apologize."
Eri yanked back her ponytail, her face red as she shouted: "Don't play with my hair while apologizing! Then why didn't you just say it clearly from the start!"
"I thought you were offended, so I didn't go into your room after that." Shirou said helplessly.
"It was you who never came into my house again after that, wasn't it?" Eri puffed up her cheeks and turned her head away.
"No, it's because you glared at me so angrily and kicked me out—I thought you'd never let me set foot in your house again. And what was I supposed to do in your room anyway, when I didn't even know what you were doing in there?" Shirou retorted.
"Ugh… I properly made it up to you, didn't I? Every time I went to your house, my mom always made me bring a gift!" Eri stubbornly argued, her face red.
"No, I always thought that was your mom trying to buy me off, paying me hush money. Besides, you and Komachi always ended up eating those yourself, didn't you?" Shirou said.
Though her parents doted on her too much, when it came to dealing with others, they were perfectly proper and considerate.
If it was snacks, Eri and Komachi would eat them together in her room. If it was cakes or desserts, they'd leave two portions for the parents, then split the rest between them. None of it was ever meant for Shirou!
"That was never your share! You didn't get any, period!" the blonde girl made a face as she said this, the scenes playing vividly in her mind.
"Hmph, that's your fault! Every time I saw your face I just got mad, so I ate your share on purpose!" Eri pouted angrily.
Because she had known him since long ago, she knew—ever since he was little, Shirou had always been impossibly correct, upright, kind, always ready to help people in need. Even many adults couldn't compare to him.
And in contrast, she was someone who would throw everything aside just to pursue her hobbies, someone who couldn't even manage her own life properly, let alone help others.
The blonde-haired girl cared very much about Shirou's opinion of her, so every word and movement of hers became emotional, full of aggression. She was afraid of not being understood, afraid of being looked down upon, afraid of being criticized. Now that the misunderstanding was cleared up, her desire to be acknowledged, to be praised, rose even higher.
The boy and girl chatted here and there without much structure, until finally arriving at the Western-style house where Eriri lived. Eriri made up her mind, gathered her courage, looked at the boy, and said:
"Shirou… then come over to my house for a bit."
"Eh? At this hour?" Shirou glanced at the time, which was already past eight o'clock, and hesitated.
"What's the problem? Anyway, you're already familiar with my mom. My dad doesn't talk much, but he's praised you before, saying that even at such a young age you're already a remarkable gentleman." Eriri revealed her little tiger teeth, speaking impatiently.
"No, that's not the problem. Just think about it. A daughter bringing a boy up to her room at night—what do you think people will imagine?" Shirou explained.
"Annoying! I'm telling you to come up, so just come up! My mom and dad aren't even home today!" Eriri cursed angrily.
"Oh, that's good then…" Shirou agreed. Though he felt something was a bit off, he figured if he dawdled too much she'd just scold him again, so without thinking too hard he followed her inside.
Eriri opened the door, urged him to follow, and brought him up to her room.
"Wait at the door for a second," Eriri said, closing the door behind her.
"Mm." Shirou nodded, casually taking in his surroundings. The spacious house, from the hardwood floors, wallpaper, to all the various decorations, was understated yet refined.
The Western-style architecture, paired with some Japanese-style furniture, actually blended together quite harmoniously.
After a rustling sound, the door opened again. Standing before Shirou was a girl with long straight golden hair, wearing black-rimmed glasses and a plain green gym outfit—her most natural, casual appearance at home.
"Come in!" Eriri said as she walked inside.
"Oh." Shirou entered the girl's room. Even after so many years, it was still kept pretty well. At the very least, it had the neatness it should, so that if guests came, a bit of tidying would make it presentable, without seeming slovenly.
Although, if some of the hidden things inside were discovered, that would be hard to guarantee.
"Don't go staring at my closet or under my bed!" Eriri snapped.
"Alright. So what exactly did you want me to come up here for?" Shirou asked curiously.
"Anyway, sit down first." Eriri said, then sat herself down in a swivel chair, one leg propped up, leaning back against the computer desk that held her monitor, tablet, and other drawing tools, looking toward the boy.
"Mm. I guess you can tell me now," Shirou said as he sat on a small round chair across from her.
"Actually, I want… I want you to look at my drawings, and tell me what you think." Eriri pursed her lips, opened the closet, which was filled with game boxes, and rummaged through it. She pulled out a sketchbook, making sure it was one of the safe-for-show ones with characters wearing clothes, and handed it to Shirou.
Shirou looked at the sketchbook. Inside were all kinds of cute two-dimensional girls, wearing various Western-style outfits and striking youthful, alluring poses.
He nodded, carefully looking through them, then gave his evaluation: "These are really good. Even for someone like me, a total outsider, I can see how detailed and heartfelt they are. But using yourself as a model for your art—on that point, I hope you'd be a little more mindful. If strangers don't know, it's fine, but since I know you and look at these, it just feels a little awkward."
Eriri went berserk: "Why?! You even figured that out?!"
Thankfully, it wasn't one of the sketchbooks with nude drawings, otherwise she'd be slamming her head into the wall right now! Even as it was, the embarrassment made her want to die!
"No, come on, every character has bits of you in them. Especially these girls—it's obviously just you with different hairstyles." Shirou pointed to the screen. There was a slender girl with long straight hair and a scornful expression, a slender girl with a single ponytail grinning with tiger teeth, and a slender girl with a bob cut making a sulky face.
By compatibility of traits—whether in aura or physique—the match was at least 80% or more.
"Waaaaah!!!" Eriri screamed in shame and fury, swinging her long twin-tails as she charged at the boy with a momentum that looked ready to drag him down with her.
"I told you, that move doesn't work on me anymore. Calm down. I'm not making fun of you. If you didn't have that kind of seriousness, you wouldn't be able to draw this well in the first place." Shirou extended his hand, stopping her head, and pushed her back down into her chair.
"Uuuu… If you dare tell anyone about this, I'll… I'll just stay shut in forever and never go outside again…" Eriri sobbed.
"Hey, that's too much! Don't make me the reason you end up as a lifelong shut-in! Wait—was that your plan all along?" Shirou asked, astonished.
Just then, a faint chuckle entered his ears. Eriri didn't seem to hear it. Shirou took out his phone.
On the screen, a tiny black-haired little chibi girl lay there, smiling and waving at him.
"Stop eavesdropping! Go back!" Shirou whispered to the little being on his phone.
"What did you say?" Eriri asked, puzzled, since she hadn't heard clearly.
"No, nothing. Since we've cleared things up, I guess I'll head home now." Shirou put away his phone and spoke to the girl.
"Eh? You're leaving already?" Eriri asked.
"Well, it's already pretty late, and it's past dinner time." Shirou replied.
Guuuu~ The blonde girl's stomach growled. She quickly covered it, her face reddening.
Shirou sighed helplessly: "Fine. Since it's this late anyway, and I already told Komachi, I'll cook something here, and then head home after we eat."
"Really?! Then I want pasta!" Eriri said excitedly. Back when she went to hang out with Komachi, she had seen Shirou cooking.
Sometimes he even brought food over to their house, and it was always delicious. But because of their strained relationship, even if she was craving it, she could never bring herself to ask.
"For pasta, the meat sauce and broth are important, so we'll need the right ingredients. Do you have any in the fridge?" Shirou asked.
"Yes! I'll show you." Eriri said happily.
"Onions, pork, beef, tomatoes… yeah, all the basics are here. Alright, I'll borrow the kitchen then." Shirou gathered the ingredients into a bowl and walked toward the sink to wash them.
"Then I'll do some drawing while I wait." Eriri said expectantly, and ran upstairs to grab her sketchbook.
"Mm." Shirou agreed.
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