Just like in every clichéd romantic comedy scene, the boy lingered in a record store filled with soft, mellow jazz. As he flipped open a secondhand music magazine displayed on the shelf, the face of the girl standing behind that shelf was revealed along with it.
The instant their gazes crossed, it felt as though it foretold the imminent spark of something beautiful.
From there, naturally, would come meeting, understanding, and then walking hand in hand through a life journey filled with laughter and tears.
That's the kind of development only a stale romcom would go for.
Narumi Tōru, however, after triggering that exact opening—simply stuffed the thick music magazine back into place, once again blocking the girl's face behind the shelf.
Ah, I didn't see a thing.
"Hey, Koumi."
A slightly dissatisfied voice called out from behind the shelf.
"How heartless. You won't even call me your best friend."
"Well, if it isn't the elusive Miss Yamada, appearing and disappearing like a divine dragon. I was wondering why you didn't come meet up with us—turns out you were hiding here the whole time."
Narumi deliberately teased her in a sarcastic tone, pulling out a shorter book to read instead, completely ignoring Yamada Ryō as she swept aside a stack of magazines to face him directly.
"You weren't at the entrance when I arrived."
She brushed off her tardiness in an utterly casual manner.
"And it was way too hot outside. Might as well come in here, enjoy the AC, and listen to some music."
Even if the shop owner heard that, she continued calmly brewing coffee, apparently long used to freeloading customers like this.
"What, did I interrupt your sweet little date with your dear President, Koumi? Feeling annoyed about that?"
Yamada Ryō tilted her mouth into what was meant to be a teasing expression, but since she was never particularly expressive to begin with, it came off looking especially ridiculous.
"Yes, absolutely. So why don't you take her place, Miss Yamada, and go on an incredibly romantic date with me instead?"
Narumi leaned in closer with a beaming smile, the two of them engaging in this sugar-coated verbal duel with perfect synchronization.
There was no helping it—they both knew exactly how to gross each other out.
"Then perhaps I should graciously leave you two alone and let you enjoy yourselves."
Abruptly, Yukinoshita Yukino joined the conversation, seemingly appearing from nowhere.
Her doll-like, delicate face was now filled with cool detachment and distance.
Miss Yukinoshita Yukino, you're giving off some serious emotional distance.
"I'm thinking of buying this album. If you're not too busy abandoning us to go have a lovey-dovey date, Narumi-kun, could you take a look and tell me how my taste is?"
She handed him a beautifully bound album—Lana Del Rey's Born to Die—her expression anything but friendly.
"Ah, President, you've got excellent taste."
In order to quickly defuse what was on the verge of turning into some kind of battlefield, Narumi activated his passive skill once again—becoming conspicuously extra.
"Once you start listening to Del Rey, you're destined to listen to her for life. Once you understand how good she is, you'll never envy whatever other people are listening to again. Your mental state and overall happiness level get boosted far beyond everyone else's, you save yourself at least eighteen years of detours, and at the same time you're already leagues ahead of fans of other artists. Del Gate?"
"Honestly, it's impressive how you can memorize such a long string of terrible memes and recite them with a straight face…"
Alright. Dragging the conversation back from the brink of a full-on battlefield counts as a win…!
"Oh—so Miss President is into records and stuff too? That's unexpected."
Yamada Ryō casually dropped a remark that could easily sound offensive to others, though she herself likely meant nothing by it.
"Koumi listens to pretty much everything, sure—but if I had to say what he likes best, it'd be this one, right?"
With a calm sweep of her gaze across the shelves, Yamada precisely located her target and placed OK Computer by Radiohead into Narumi's hands.
"Here. Radiohead. Not the kind of rock with explosive live performances, but the emotional buildup is insanely strong, don't you think?"
She didn't show emotions as strong or clear as Yukino's, yet she seemed to be quietly waiting for the curly-haired boy's choice all the same.
Having two albums placed in front of him like this, waiting to be chosen, honestly felt dangerous.
Because Narumi knew full well that this wasn't just about picking between two records.
Oh wow, is this the legendary battlefield? No way. I thought a showdown between girls would be something like a chest-slapping arena match. If that were the case, I might actually want to watch… though neither Yamada nor Yukinoshita seems remotely qualified to compete…
"Comparing rock and pop like that isn't really fair. They're not meant to be measured against each other."
The shop owner, who had been quietly polishing coffee cups, spoke up at just the right moment. The woman—who looked to be in her early twenties—tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and deftly dissolved the awkward atmosphere with a half-smile.
Narumi, whose thoughts had nearly drifted into outer space, immediately caught on to her intent to bail him out. He reached out with both hands and took both vinyl records at once.
"Exactly. Why can't I just take them both?"
Only kids make choices. Adults like me… (clenches fist) .jpg
"You really are something else…"
Yukino shook her head with a wry, amused smile. She only looked mildly troubled and didn't scold him at all.
"Oh, that's very like Koumi."
Yamada, on the other hand, wore an expression of absolute certainty, as if to say "just as expected", which made Yukino frown slightly in irritation.
"Well then, I guess you'll be paying for both of our records."
"What—so that was your plan all along, Yamada?!"
Crap, I've been played…! Flat-broke Miss Yamada's grand freeloading-the-records plan was a complete success!
Yamada Ryō let out an expressionless "ehe," finally savoring the taste of victory when she saw the boy lose his usual composure and show a hint of embarrassment.
"Bocchi-chan… shall we compete to see how to survive a whole month on 5,000 yen…?"
The curly-haired boy forced a smile as he squatted in a corner next to the pink-haired girl. Not knowing how to comfort him—and unable to bring herself to say "my allowance is totally enough"—Bocchi-chan cautiously pulled a ten-thousand-yen bill from her wallet.
"K-Koumi-senpai, if you don't mind… please use this in an emergency…!"
"Bocchi-chan, are you going to support me? I'm so happy…"
"Eh—eh?! I-I-I didn't mean it like that, but—"
And yet, despite her protests, Bocchi-chan pulled out another Fukuzawa Yukichi from her wallet.
No matter how you look at it, that line—'Bocchi-chan, are you going to support me?'—clearly hit home. Still, this is exactly how you end up becoming a scumbag guy's personal ATM, Bocchi-chan.