I Shaved. Then I Brought a High School Girl Home.

Volume 3, Short Story: Tunic Blouse

Translator : chelly

“High school was great…”

The words just slipped out from my mouth.

I feel like I’ve been going back and forth between the closet and the mirror for about half an hour now.

When I was in high school, I wore only black clothes, believing my classmates when they said “Ao looks good in black.”

When I was in college, I would buy fashion magazines even though I wasn’t particularly interested in them. I would buy clothes worn by models with a similar hairstyle as mine.

That’s why I’ve never been worried about being fashionable.

But that’s not the case right now.

“It was great because I could just wear my uniform.”

I was tempted to wear my school uniform, but after thinking about it, I remembered that I left my it at my parents’ house. Also, as a 27-year-old woman who’s neither an actress nor a model, it would be unreasonable for me to wear a high school uniform.

Sighing, I sat back down on my bed.

Of course, there’s a reason why I’m so worried about what to wear.

If I were going out alone, I could just put on something casual. But since I’m meeting up with someone, I should be conscious about what I wear. On top of that, I’m meeting my first love.

I woke up in the early afternoon, taking advantage of the fact that it was a day off. I was about to go to the convenience store to buy some food when I realized that I had left my wallet at work.

Someone who had lived comfortably in her parents’ house until she entered the workforce wouldn’t suddenly start cooking for herself just because she started living alone. I only cook when I feel like it, and the contents of my fridge were no good.

On the second day off, I realized that I was in a helpless situation, with no food and no wallet.

While I was stunned at realizing how negligent my lifestyle was, something wicked occurred to me.

The idea was to use this as an excuse to call up Yoshida, whom I had exchanged contact info with at the office, and have dinner with him as well.

I thought it was a good idea, but if I was going to meet Yoshida, I couldn’t just go out without dressing appropriately.

Perhaps, in Yoshida’s mind, I’m still the “senior that he admired in high school.” He’s someone dear to me, so I wouldn’t want his image of me to get ruined by not dressing up.

In short, I wanted to look good for my first love—my junior.

However, I had never cared about fashion before. I always walked down the streets without care, thinking “Well, this is how it is.” That’s why I had no idea which clothes were popular with the opposite sex.

On top of that, my partner was “that” Yoshida.

When we were in high school, every time we went out on a date, he’d always tell me I looked “cute” whether I was wearing a uniform or plain clothes. When he saw the large mole on my butt, he still called me “cute.”

But I guess he just thought everything looked cute because we were in a relationship at the time.

“Stupid Yoshida…”

I tried to shift the blame and complained, but it didn’t help me decide what to wear.

To begin with, I haven’t even contacted Yoshida yet.

Well, if I do, he’d definitely come if he’s free. For some reason, I was confident about it.

However, if I push through with this, there’s a good chance that I’d be rejected. So, I guess I should contact him first before choosing an outfit. I don’t think Yoshida has any plans for the day, but…

I picked up my smartphone and sent a message to Yoshida.

Yoshida immediately replied, but he didn’t seem to be keen on the idea. However, if he had business to attend to, he would have said “I have a business to attend to” from the start. I wondered if he was reluctant even though he had nothing to do. That’s cheeky.

After a few more exchanges, Yoshida was still clearly reluctant to meet me at the office, so I finally played the “I have nothing to eat” card. Well, it wasn’t a lie since I actually had nothing to eat.

As expected, Yoshida broke down and replied that he would come.

I took advantage of my opponent’s character to win, but a victory is a victory.

Now.

Back to the initial problem. What to wear?

I can’t go back in time to find out what Yoshida’s likes and dislikes are, and I can’t send a message now asking, “What should I wear?” If I asked him, he’d probably say, “Just wear whatever you like.”

We were no longer in a relationship where he could say, “You look cute no matter what you’re wearing.”

My heart ached a little at the thought of it.

Now, he has another love in his heart.

I knew I had let him go, and I understand the fact that the biggest fish I ever caught was the one that got away1.

That’s why I got up from the bed with unnecessary vigor as if to push back the dull pain crawling into my chest.

Then, I picked up an unopened magazine which I bought last week out of impulse off the floor next to the bed.

On the front cover, in large letters, there’s a sign that reads, “Tunic blouses are the way to go for Fall!”

“Ah, I have a tunic blouse.”

I flipped through the magazine and headed for the closet.

Just the other day, I went to a clothing store to buy a few clothes for Fall. I couldn’t be bothered to pick them out myself, so I grabbed a sales clerk and asked her, “What do you think would look good on me?”

This was the answer.

I took a tunic blouse of a gray color close to black and stood in front of the mirror.

The clerk said in a high-pitched voice, “In addition to its calmness, the garment has a light and neat impression. I think it will look great with your beautiful black hair!” I remember her saying something like that.

Indeed, it’s calm and neat.

When I looked down at the magazine, I saw that the model was wearing a tunic blouse with capris.

I nodded and then pulled a pair of white capris out of the closet.

I took off my clothes, and changed into the blouse and capris, and found myself dressed more suitably than I had expected.

“This is nice.”

When I bought magazines, I thought to myself, “I’m buying this stuff I’m not going to read,” and when I bought clothes, I thought, “I’m only going to wear it a few times anyway,” but I never thought it would come in handy here.

I chuckled to myself, thinking that this habit is sometimes useful.

I checked myself thoroughly in the bathroom mirror to make sure that my hair wasn’t messy and put on a light amount of makeup.

After that, I opened the shoe cabinet in the entrance hall and looked for shoes that would best match my current outfit. At the edge of the cabinet, I found an unopened shoe box.

“Ah…”

I didn’t need to open it to know what’s inside. I forced a smile on my face.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this at this time.”

I reached out and picked up the box.

When I was in high school, I begged my parents to buy me a pair of shoes which were a bit more mature for me at the time.

It’s a pair of black ankle strap heeled sandals.

I asked my parents to buy them for me because… I was planning to wear them on my next date.

In the end, there was no “next date” because of me.

“Is this a date?”

I muttered, staring at the sandals.

“…I guess I’ll consider this as a date.”

Saying that, I removed the wrapping paper and placed the sandals on the doorstep.

The size of my feet hadn’t changed at all since I was a high school student, and my feet fit snugly into my sandals.

“Hehehe.”

I chuckled.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to wear you, okay?”

I said, starting at the sandals. There was no response, of course. I just thought of saying that since finding these sandals was a lifesaver.

“I’m wearing fancy clothes and a new pair of sandals. I’m beautiful in my own way.”

I wanted to say it out loud, so I did.

“If this doesn’t make Yoshida’s heart flutter, then he has bad taste.”

I muttered to myself and laughed.

I opened the door.

Having said those words to compliment my appearance at least a little bit, I left the house in good spirits.

Maybe because I never get compliments on my attire or even a comment about it.