November 2014

  ***

  It was already dark out, with the large bonfire being the only source of light in the schoolyard after the first day of the Culture Festival. The slow droning of the Oklahoma Mixer played as Miori Takeuchi, age 17, was forced to go along with the bonfire dance, as it was tradition, and besides, multiple boys asked if she would participate, so her classmates begged her until she agreed – mostly so they themselves could get closer to the boys who asked for her.

  A tall boy held her right hand from behind with his own, pointed upwards next to her head, while her left was outstretched towards the center of the circle that the students were forming, held from below by him as if she needed support.

  They did identical steps both. Left foot forward, follow up with the right, step left, step right, follow up with the left. Another step with the right, then double steps with the left, double steps with the right, four steps forward starting with the left.

  Finally, they came to a halt, extending their left legs to touch the ground with their heels, pulling them back to do the same with their toes, releasing their right hands and having Miori rotate around to face the boy.

  He seemed a little flustered. She gave him a smile as usual – a well-exercised fa?ade which carried her through daily life.

  They extended their right legs to touch the ground with their heels, then they pulled them back again, tapping their toes on the ground – it looked like they curtsied.

  With that her time with the tall boy finally passed. She walked clockwise around the fire while he continued counterclockwise, and they met new partners. Miori grabbed the boy who was only a few centimeters taller than her by his right hand with her own and rotated so her back faced him before extending her left hand to rest it on his.

  This repetitive dance continued for quite a while, until every male participant and every female participant had met once. Some of the boys tried to chat her up as she looked ahead with vacant eyes, just trying to get it over with.

  “I want to tell you something! Will you meet me behind the gym after the dance?”, one asked.

  “I’m sorry, but no.” she replied diplomatically.

  “I have a crush on you! Please go out with me!”

  “I don’t want to date at the moment.”

  “What kind of boys are you into?”

  “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

  She chose her words carefully to not offend anyone while still showing her beautiful, if fake smile. It was always easier to grin and bear it than to stir the pot.

  She finally arrived home, carrying herself up the stairs to her room after briefly greeting her mother. She let herself fall face-first on her bed as she exhaled deeply. Today wasn’t the first time a lot of boys became brave and asked her out; it wouldn’t be the last, either.

  Sometimes she cursed herself for having been born with her blonde hair and blue eyes – while it wasn’t that unheard of in the city and most people didn’t pay it any mind, a lot of people still mistook her for being from overseas at a glance, or thought she dyed her hair – most annoyingly teachers who didn’t know her accused her of that a lot before being corrected. She also stood out in her class, which attracted romantic attention.

  Both her mother and father’s families apparently interacted with Belgian and German guests and immigrants – or were emigrants themselves before their families returned, all over the span of a few generations – and who would have seen it coming? The European qualities of those families carried unseen through her parents to spring into full bloom after she was born.

  On top of all of that, hers was the dubious honor of being the first-ever person to be saved by a Magical Girl, which made people ask a lot of uncomfortable questions whenever they found out, so she tried to keep it under wraps. To her dismay some classmates found out and told everyone they knew. All that on top of her family moving out of Kawaguchi into Tokyo after the same questions about her having been inside a monster popped up at her elementary school.

  For a mercy, at least, the ‘prestige’ of that info about her was fading the longer Magical Girls kept being a fact of life. At a certain point so many people were being rescued and held in the arms of Magical Girls that no one was interested in who was the ‘first’ anymore.

  Still, it was a formative memory for her.

  It was about a year ago that Miori realized that she was into girls. And even so, most girls still didn’t do it for her, either. None of her classmates did, at the very least. The one she kept thinking about was the one who once held her in her arms, who rubbed her back as she threw up liquid shadow and spoke to her in a reassuring voice.

  The first person rescued by a Magical Girl fell in love with the first person who turned into a Magical Girl – but she could only ever see her through the cold screen of a TV or her phone.

  She grabbed the very same device and typed ‘Minerva Crimson’ into the search bar. Her heart beat a little faster and harder in her chest as she watched whatever footage she could find, no matter how blurry and amateurish it was.

  “She’s shining so bright…”

  Miori sighed as she kept watching – her thoughts came back to herself.

  She should try to shine a little bit like her heroine, but how would she even start to do that?

  She watched the very first video again, in which Minerva held her ten-year old self in her arms, covered in liquid shadow – and then afterwards departed with a declaration that could only be described as overly dramatic.

  She acts like she doesn’t care what people think about her.

  She pondered if she should try to be a little bit more rebellious as well.

  Day after day she simply kept smiling, making excuses for other people’s lack of respect for her boundaries. What if she just told them off?

  She took her head in both hands and let out another long sigh. There was no way she could ever overcome her innate shyness, unless there was some kind of miracle cure out there that gave her the confidence she needed.

  She wished she was anywhere but here at this moment.

  It was finally her time to do her classes’ culture festival activities on the second day. They largely voted for a maid café, with the boys doing the food preparation while the girls served as the aforementioned maids in the role of waitresses.

  They bought inexpensive maid outfits from a costume supplier in various sizes for this occasion, meaning that they were ill-fitting and looked cheap. Miori tied the typical maid headband to her hair, letting out a loud sigh as she looked over the sorry ensemble of third-class maids in the makeshift changing room.

  Even if I look like I was ordered from a maid knockoff site some boys will hit on me again.

  She shook her head and walked towards the ‘café’ area of the classroom as she passed by a mirror.

  It was a classic outfit with a long skirt, not even the sexy kind that would be more common to see in Akihabara. The skirt drooped down her legs in an incredibly sad way, its ruffles at the hem never getting to shine. She twisted and turned in front of the mirror, grabbing the skirt and fanning it wider, lifting it up so it showed a little leg as she kept inspecting herself.

  There was something to it. If the skirt were propped up it wouldn’t look as bad anymore; alas, a petticoat for every outfit wasn’t within the class budget.

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  She kept going at it until one of her classmates stood behind her.

  “What are you doing, Takeuchi?”

  She spun around to face the other girl, blushing as she was caught red-handed.

  “I just thought, if the skirts weren’t hanging down like that, these dresses might actually be kind of cute.”

  “Hmm, you think so?” the other girl didn’t seem all that convinced.

  “They’re just costumes for today anyway, don’t overthink it so much.”

  Miori looked at herself a little bit longer in the mirror before she joined her classmates in the café.

  “Welcome, Master!”

  “Oh, Miori-chan, you look so cute in a maid uniform!”

  “Thank you!” This outfit looks horribly cheap, though.

  “Can I have a deliciousness spell and a smile?”

  “Of course, I’ll try my best! Become delicious! Moe, moe, kyun!”

  It’s frozen omurice that we warmed up, not even a Magical Girl could enchant it to taste delicious.

  And so on… Miori kept her true thoughts to herself, again.

  Her mind was focused on something entirely different, and as she got a break she pulled out her phone to look it up.

  There it was, on the website of a store in Harajuku. Maid dresses were displayed, propped up by a petticoat, short enough to show off the legs that could be decorated by tights, fishnets or maybe even garter. It looked way better than what her class was doing – it might even make her shine.

  As she tried to zoom in on one of the images her finger slipped, and the page switched to a different product as a result of her fat-fingering accident. What she saw there was a black and red ruffled blouse and skirt combination, with platform high heels, garter with heart-shaped metal rings and a ruffled headdress.

  What is that? ‘Gothic lolita’?

  Her eyes were glued to the screen. She felt like it was speaking to her in the strangest way. She imagined herself in it and felt a little tingle in her fingertips.

  I need to try this on.

  Miori stepped out of Harajuku station in her school uniform. Her lack of general enthusiasm for fashion until this point had her not care too much about getting things to wear in everyday life – her uniform was just enough for most of the time she spent outside, and on the weekend, she could make do with a t-shirt and some sweatpants at home, or with jeans outside.

  Why would she bother dressing pretty when all it did was get her even more unwanted attention? At least those were her thoughts until today.

  She walked to the right, heading straight for the mall only five minutes down the street. The website she saw the dress on named this one of the places where she could buy it.

  She stepped through the automatic doors and past the regular in-season fashion that was organized right behind the large store window front for the casual shopper.

  She was here for the specialized selection, so she took the escalator to the upper floor.

  As she arrived in the section dedicated to the dresses’ brand, she took a deep breath. Lolita dresses were arranged in large quantities on racks, side by side. The sight made her heart beat just a little faster, almost similarly to whenever she saw her heroine.

  Most of them were too bright for her taste. White, grey, baby blue, pink ones, even. She erroneously assumed that the brand would mostly sell gothic aesthetics, but it appeared to stock lolita fashion of dozens of styles that she didn’t even knew existed. She needed to go a bit further to the back to find the gothic themed ones.

  With a bit more searching she found the one she was looking for – and immediately grimaced. The price tag was a staggering thirty thousand yen, at least staggering for a high schooler with only an allowance for finances.

  And that was only the blouse and skirt combination. She would need a headdress, shoes, socks and garter that matched as well.

  Checking her wallet she confirmed the sad facts that she already knew. Her finances came together to barely nine thousand yen.

  Discouraged she was about to put it away as a woman spoke to her.

  “Putting it away already? I was so certain that it would fit you perfectly.”

  Judging by her uniform she was an employee here, but she also looked like a bit of a rebel, with red dyed hair and a grin that appeared able to weather even the greatest hardships. Her nameplate read Takanashi.

  “I can’t afford it right now.” Miori replied with a sad little smile.

  “You can still try it on. I want to see!” The employee winked at her and Miori took a step back from her in surprise.

  “I don’t know if I should…”

  “It’s no problem, really! Girls come in here and try on tons of different things all the time, so don’t be shy!”

  The woman grabbed the dress and helped Miori pick out a headdress as well before guiding her to the changing rooms.

  “Again, I want to see it, got it?”

  Miori nodded meekly, entering the little space and closing the curtain. Her hands trembled a little as she ran her fingers over the fabric. She looked at herself in the mirror, still wearing her school uniform. Besides her hair and eye color she was relatively unremarkable to her own eyes. She kept her hair at shoulder length, never diving any deeper into hair styles than a simple straight cut for fear that getting any prettier would draw even more unwanted attention.

  For now she took off her blazer, shirt and her skirt as well. The tights she currently wore against the chilly air outside would do for the dress, even if it wasn’t coordinated with them.

  Swallowing her nervosity she put on the dress, slipping it over her form. She grabbed the laces and fastened them, pulling the blouse around her chest like a corset. The sleeves were loose and fluttered as she moved her arms, and she couldn’t help but admire them for a moment. Only after she put on the headdress, she looked into the mirror and her eyes widened as she saw herself.

  She looked like a princess. One whose clothing of choice was darker than most, with almost a horror aesthetic, but nonetheless she looked like one. The frilly skirt was neatly propped up by the petticoat underneath, giving her a cute silhouette.

  She turned around, inspecting herself from every angle, and noticed here for the first time that her fake smile turned into a real one. A strange confidence filled her like never before.

  ***

  “Oh dear! I knew I was right. You look like you were born for this!”

  The employee seemed delighted.

  “My hair still feels like it doesn’t quite fit.” Miori ran her fingers through her hair, pondering its appearance.

  “I know just the thing!”

  The woman grabbed her phone and unlocked it. The lock screen was her and another woman with almost hip-length black hair and dark eyes, squished together by the cheeks and making silly faces. For some reason she seemed familiar to Miori, even though she was certain that she had never seen that woman in her life.

  The employee entered something into her search bar, then turned the phone around to show Miori.

  “This is called a hime cut. You may have to grow your bangs and lateral hair a bit more, but it should be doable. I bet it will look fantastic on you! If you want it faster, you can even get wigs like it.”

  Miori smiled and nodded. After another tour into the changing room, she was back to her school uniform, putting the dress back with a slightly sad expression.

  “Too bad I can’t afford it right now. It made me feel confident like nothing else…”

  The employee pondered, then she leaned in close to whisper.

  “Now, I might get in trouble if someone overhears me giving you suggestions to shop somewhere else, but…”

  Miori approached the store Takanashi told her about. She first cut through the side roads of the neighborhood and entered into the middle of Takeshita Street, seeing the stairs that the helpful clerk described to her earlier.

  As she got closer, she could see the matte golden paint on the stairs’ railing. There was no doubt about it: this was the store she was looking for.

  As she ascended, she could see dresses propped up by wire mannequins – there used to be faceless wooden ones, but due to more common attacks by faceless marionettes looking just like poseable store mannequins a lot of boutiques have opted to make it harder for these assailants to hide in plain sight.

  Inside she could see an uncountable number of dresses on long racks. A great mix of lolita styles, even though Takanashi added to her recommendation that this brand wasn’t regarded ‘true’ lolita by the enthusiasts, but it was good for beginners with a lower budget.

  Miori found a dress she liked after about thirty minutes of rummaging – and it cost barely more than four thousand yen. It was all-black, not with accents, but it was nice and ruffled with fluttering sleeves, nonetheless.

  She went on and got herself fitting shoes for 2600 yen more, then tights with little decorative garter and bows in the front for 2360.

  She didn’t have a headdress yet, but with this she owned enough to start wearing the fashion while remaining inside her budget.

  Her finances were utterly drained, though.

  ***

  Once she was home, she wasted no time getting dressed. She stood in front of her mirror, spinning around her axis once to watch the fabric flutter. She struck one or two poses, admiring herself.

  It’s not quite the same quality. But it’s a good start. I feel a bit of that confidence back.

  She thought about some more words of advice that Takanashi gave her.

  “You want to dress up for yourself, right? Maybe try out different styles of clothing, too. Maybe a suit could boost your confidence. Or maybe one day you want to dress like a gyaru. Or you might want to try cosplay. If this outfit has so much of an effect on you, maybe others do, too.”

  She went from zero interest in fashion at all to wanting to try out all sorts of things. The problem was just… she had no money left.

  ***

  “Oh my. Elegant.”

  Her mother entered the living room, seeing her dressed in her new outfit and hunched over a local paper that listed part-time jobs.

  “You’ve never been interested in more than hanging out in your room and watching Magical Girl videos. What changed?”

  The playful jab was like a truthful knife into her side, making her cringe a little.

  “I found something I’m interested in. But I need money.”

  Her mother smiled and nodded, grabbing some barley tea from the fridge and pouring herself a glass.

  “That’s good. Much better than being aimless, hm? If it motivates you to go out there and interact with people more, then all the better.”

  Miori nodded to her mother.

  “And maybe the person I want to see me will notice me as well.”

  Miori’s mother rolled her eyes.

  “Still fantasizing about being a couple with that Magical Girl? I tell you; she’s nothing but trouble.”

  Magical Girls being a chaotic factor in the world was always her mother’s biggest concern, rather than the gender of her desired partner. It was a comedic moment when Miori came out to her mother about her feelings for other girls – or rather one specific girl – and she went on a tangent about the destruction caused by the Flower Brigade alone. Miori should try to find a good girl at her school instead, she said.

  “If it comes down to it, I'll tame her.” Miori said with a little grin before she looked down at the part-time job listings again.

  There was a convenience store near Shibuya that was hiring students.

  She didn’t hesitate long and dialed the number on her cell phone.