Chapter 68: Similar Yet Different

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“Well, I'm heading home too.”

Honestly, with Sakamoto-senpai gone, there's no reason for me to stay here. The two of us might just end up arguing if we stay, so leaving is probably for the best.

As I stood up, though…

“What, are you busy or something?”

“Busy? Kind of, but not really.”

“Then you should stick around a bit longer. One of the girls planning to join the mixer might show up.”

“Really? Then I'm staying.”

She managed to convince me. After all, there's nothing more important than a mixer.

“You're so straightforward…”

“Who wouldn't be? If it was Kurebayashi-san who might show up, I bet you'd stay too, KYOKO-san.”

“Just call me Kenzaki.”

“Sorry?”

“No need to call me KYOKO. It's just the two of us here anyway.”

With a sigh, KYOKO… Kenzaki-san seemed exhausted. It's no wonder; even someone with her personality would be unsettled by that creepy letter.

The stress must be getting to her.

“You look tired. Want a shoulder massage?”

“No thanks; you'd probably touch something else.”

“What do you take me for? I don't do things like that to unwilling people.”

“…”

Silence. Kenzaki-san seemed genuinely worn out. Poor thing.

Maybe she wanted to talk about something. I sat back down and faced her.

“Keeping up appearances is really tiring, you know, even though it's part of this world.”

“Ha! You're considerate, but they treat you like crap, right? Offering favors in return for sex… one-sided generosity.”

“Exactly, and that letter makes me want to quit this industry.”

So, she just wanted to vent.

“Why don't you quit then?”

“If I could, I would. But I have a contract, and paying the penalty is ridiculous.”

“I understand. Responsibility is heavy.”

“You're making sense for once.”

Hey, now I am sensible. Probably the most sensible person around here.

Just look at the others. There's the s**t who started banging in middle school, the girl cheating on her boyfriend with her childhood friend, the one screwing her stepbrother, and the lesbian model obsessed with her friend.

Even Angie is starting to slip out of the realm of normalcy lately.

I kept these thoughts to myself, not wanting to further burden Kenzaki-san.

“I'm just being myself, whether I make sense or not.”

“You're strong.”

“Huh?”

“I'm getting tired of being KYOKO.”

What's gotten into her? Seeing her like this up close, I almost felt lucky. Not that I'd ever say that aloud. There's no gap here.

It's easy to see why she'd prefer to be with Kurebayashi, slobbering over her boobs and thighs, rather than playing the celebrity.

But the path to that bliss seems to be wearing her down.

And after this, I listened to her vent for a long time.

—

It took an hour and a half of listening to her grievances before Kenzaki-san finally calmed down.

Her complaints covered a wide range, enough to fill a gossip magazine for weeks.

She must have held back in front of Sakamoto-senpai because of this. I'll keep her confident.

By the way, the girl she mentioned never showed up. I guess I was tricked.

“Sorry for unloading on you.”

She apologized, uncharacteristically meek.

Kenzaki-san is saying sorry to me. That's rare enough to make up for the wasted time. If I were a girl, today would be a special day.

Men value daily life, and women value anniversaries.

Who first said that? But this memorial was spent in a good way.

“Everyone needs to vent sometimes. Bottling it up isn't healthy.”

“Coming from you, everything sounds dirty…”

“Am I that obscene?”

“Yeah. On TV, your face would probably be pixelated.”

“That's for protecting privacy.”

“No, because your face is too vulgar. Viewers would complain.”

“Rude. Just because you're a bit pretty, you look down on people.”

I snapped back, but I wasn't really angry.

I'm just glad she seemed a bit better after venting.

“So you think I'm pretty?”

“When you're in a swimsuit.”

“…”

No need to make that embarrassed, disgusted face.

“Anyway. I hope everything works out for you.”

“I'll pray if it helps.”

“Yeah. See you.”

I turned to leave, but she tugged on my shirt, stopping me.

“What now?”

“Seriously, I'm counting on you.”

“I'll do my best.”

“….Thanks.”

Satisfied with my response, she let go of my shirt.

Alright, time to go home.

I've got a few things to take care of.