Chapter 8—Caught Red Handed in 4K
—Sometimes, There are days when the mind is so thoroughly exhausted that it simply stops fighting the present, surrendering instead to the quiet peace of the memories it has stored away.—
After a grueling, endlessly busy day at Tokyo Central Hospital, Kaori finally returned home. Her residence was a modest, modern 2BHK apartment she had purchased with her own savings. Since she lived alone, it was always quiet—the complete opposite of her frantic shifts.
She stepped through the front door, the heavy silence of the apartment wrapping around her like a shroud. With a tired sigh, she dropped her bag onto the couch and shrugged off her long coat. Then, reaching up with careful fingers, she unfastened the rigid plastic of her cervical collar and pulled it off.
"Ah..." Kaori hissed softly, her fingers gently massaging the stiff, aching muscles at the back of her neck.
Seeking immediate relief, she headed straight for the bathroom, stripping off her work clothes and stepping into a steaming shower. She stood under the spray for a long time, letting the hot water melt away the sterile, antiseptic smell of the hospital and the crushing weight of her responsibilities.
Once she was dried and dressed in comfortable pajamas, her stomach let out a quiet rumble. She padded into the small kitchen and lifted the lid of the rice cooker. Finding some leftovers, she quickly whipped up a comforting plate of omurice, too exhausted to cook a full meal.
She carried her plate to the dining area and sat down at the four-seater table. The three empty chairs served as a quiet reminder of her solitary routine.
"Itadakimasu/Thanks for the food," Kaori whispered to the empty room, clapping her hands together briefly before digging in.
The food was warm, a small mercy at the end of a long day. Once finished, she washed her few dishes, the rhythmic sound of running water the only noise in the apartment. By the time she crawled into bed, her body was completely spent. The moment her head hit the pillow, exhaustion dragged her down like a heavy anchor into a deep slumber.
Or at least, she thought it would be dreamless. Instead, her tired mind retreated backward, seeking refuge in a simpler, sunlit time.
The suffocating silence of her apartment was pushed out by the rhythmic, lazy hum of an old ceiling fan.
Ding-a-ling!
The cheerful sound of a bookstore bell echoed in her mind, pulling her straight back to...
Spring, 2003
The warm, lazy haze of the approaching summer break had settled over Tokyo. Kaori had managed to secure a part-time job at a dusty, locally-owned bookstore a few blocks from her house. It wasn't an elegant shop; it was a cramped, chaotic store that sold a little of everything—manga, textbooks, and a highly questionable, curtained-off section of adult magazines in the back.
She had thoroughly annoyed the grumpy old man who owned the place to get the job. At first, he had refused to hire a high school girl, but Kaori had stubbornly showed up every afternoon, organizing his messy shelves for free until he finally caved and put her on the payroll just to get her to stop nagging him.
Working there was usually boring, but for Kaori, it was paradise. The shop was quiet, the owner usually slept in the back office, and she was left alone at the register with hours of uninterrupted peace to do her homework.
One particularly slow afternoon, the shop was dead. The only sound was the oscillating ceiling fan. Kaori sat behind the counter, her head bowed as she focused intensely on a complex math worksheet. She was so absorbed in the equations that when the bell chimed, she didn't even look up.
"Welcome," she murmured on pure reflex, her pencil never stopping its rapid scratching.
Walking through the door was a group of four teenage boys, bringing a wave of chaotic energy. Takahashi Keisuke led the pack, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, an arrogant, bored expression on his face.
Behind him trailed Yoshimura Shinosuke, Yamamoto Yamada, and Akira Yoshino.
The four didn't glance toward the register. They were on a specific, secretive mission. With hushed whispers, they bypassed the educational section and made a beeline for the heavy, faded curtain in the back.
Keisuke, busy shoving Shinosuke out of the way, was entirely unaware that the school's nerd he teased was the one manning the cash register.
The back corner of the bookstore was vibrating with poorly contained teenage hormones.
"Keep your voices down," Yoshino hissed, eyes darting toward the front. "If that grumpy old man catches us again, he's going to ban us for good."
"Relax, Yoshino. The old guy is practically deaf," Yamada whispered back, scanning the suggestive covers. He tapped a glossy magazine. "Dude... look at the new gravure idol release. Jackpot."
Shinosuke leaned over, letting out a low whistle. "Not bad. But the section on the bottom shelf has the uncensored ones."
"Dude, keep your voice down," Yoshino hissed, violently shoving Shinosuke's shoulder.
"I can't help it! Do you know how hard it is to find this specific issue?" Shinosuke whispered frantically, clutching a plastic-wrapped magazine to his chest like a holy relic.
Yamada leaned over Shinosuke's shoulder, squinting critically at the bikini-clad idol on the cover. "Who even is that? She kind of looks like my older cousin."
"Shut up, Yamada, she does not! Don't ruin this for me!" Shinosuke groaned, aggressively turning away to shield the cover from him.
"Shut up, keep your voice down, idiot!" Yoshino hissed, swatting Yamada hard on the shoulder. He nervously peeked around the bookshelf. "If the grumpy old man hears us, he's going to chase us out into the street with a broom again. You know how much he hates us."
A few steps back, Keisuke leaned casually against a wooden bookshelf, flipping through a modified car magazine. He looked thoroughly unimpressed.
"Are you three done drooling yet?" Keisuke drawled, his deep voice carrying a lazy, mocking edge. "If you're going to buy it, just buy it. It's a hundred degrees in here and it smells like dust. Let's go."
"Easy for you to say, Keisuke," Shinosuke shot back. "You have girls throwing themselves at you. We mere mortals have to survive on print and imagination."
Keisuke let out a dry scoff. "Calling that literature is an insult to actual books." He slapped the auto magazine shut. "And you guys have zero taste."
He casually pushed past Yamada, his dark eyes scanning the premium top shelf. He reached up without a shred of hesitation, grabbing a thick, glossy AV magazine featuring a provocatively dressed idol posing over the hood of a sports car.
Keisuke tapped the cover against his knuckles with a wicked smirk. "If you're going to spend your allowance on this, don't buy the cheap trash. Go for the gold."
"Woah. The premium edition?" Shinosuke's eyes widened. "Keisuke, that's like three thousand yen!"
"I already know it's good," Keisuke replied smoothly, tucking the scandalous magazine under his arm. "Now hurry up. I want to get ice cream and go to the arcade."
Yamada quickly grabbed a nurse-themed doujinshi, while Yoshino, sweating nervously, picked the most generic swimsuit magazine he could find.
"Wait," Yoshino swallowed hard. "Who's actually going up to the counter? The old man always glares at me."
"Rock, paper, scissors," Shinosuke proposed. "Loser takes all of them up."
Jan-ken-pon!
* Yamada: Rock
* Akira: Rock
* Shinosuke: Rock
* Keisuke: Scissors
Keisuke stared down at his hand in disbelief. A silent, victorious cheer went up from the other three. They immediately shoved their questionable purchases into Keisuke's chest, leaving him holding the entire scandalous pile.
Keisuke blinked, staring at the three idiots who had just miraculously bested him. He let out a long, deeply irritated sigh. He wasn't easily embarrassed, and he had bought magazines from the grumpy owner plenty of times before. The old man never cared as long as the cash was placed on the counter, but it was still the principle of the thing.
"Cowards," Keisuke muttered lazily, accepting his fate.
With the stack of inappropriate magazines tucked securely under his arm, Keisuke pushed back the heavy curtain. The others trailed behind him, using his broad frame as a shield as they headed for the register.
Behind the counter, Kaori was still focused on her algebra. Her head was bowed, her dark hair hiding her face.
Keisuke stepped up to the counter. He didn't even look at the cashier. He just tossed the entire stack of glossy magazines face-up onto the glass with a heavy, unmistakable smack.
"Just ring them all up together," Keisuke ordered, reaching for his wallet.
Kaori let out a polite sigh, put her pencil down, and looked up with her best professional smile. "Welcome. That will be—"
Kaori's voice died in her throat.
Her eyes dropped to the glass counter. Staring back at her were three highly explicit, glossy covers. A fiery red blush instantly exploded across her cheeks, burning to the tips of her ears. She slowly, robotically lifted her gaze, looking through her thick glasses straight into the face of the customer.
Keisuke had a thousand-yen bill halfway out of his wallet. He glanced up, expecting the wrinkled face of the owner. Instead, he locked eyes with the honor student he had teased under the cherry blossoms just weeks ago.
The entire bookstore plunged into a deafening, absolute silence.
For a split second, time completely stopped. The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan faded into the background. The world moved in slow motion.
The lazy, arrogant smirk on Keisuke's face didn't just fade—it was violently eradicated. His brain entirely short-circuited. He was the fearless, untouchable delinquent of the school, but in that exact moment, looking at the honor student staring at his explicit magazines, his soul practically left his body.
"Takahashi-san..." Kaori managed, her voice a high, breathless squeak that barely broke the suffocating silence. She pointed a trembling finger at the counter. "You... you..."
Absolute, unadulterated panic seized Keisuke's chest. Oh, hell No. Keisukethought, Anyone but her, he thought. Literally anyone else in the entire Tokyo metropolitan area.
"What the—" Keisuke choked out, his voice cracking like a middle schooler hitting puberty.
Raw survival instinct took over. In one lightning-fast, chaotic motion, Keisuke slammed both hands flat onto the glass counter, physically shielding the scandalous covers from Kaori's sight. The glass rattled dangerously, and a thousand-yen bill fluttered pathetically to the floor like a dead leaf.
Behind him, his friends were still oblivious to the world-ending disaster unfolding.
"Oi, Keisuke, what's the holdup?" Shinosuke complained, trying to peek around Keisuke's broad shoulder. "Did the old man fall asleep? Just leave the cash and let's go."
"Shut up!" Keisuke practically shrieked. He shifted his stance, spreading his legs and using his tall frame as a human shield to block his friends' view of the register. He glared over his shoulder like a cornered animal. "Go wait outside! All of you! Right now!"
"Huh? But we haven't paid for the gravure—" Yamada started.
"I said OUT!" Keisuke hissed, his face flushed a dark, furious red. He grabbed Yamada by the collar and shoved all three of his confused friends toward the door. "I'll handle this! Get outside!"
"Hey! My limited edition—!" Shinosuke protested, but Keisuke practically threw them out onto the sidewalk, the little bell chiming wildly as the door slammed shut behind them.
He practically threw them onto the sidewalk, the little bell above the door chiming wildly as it slammed shut. Keisuke stood there for a second, his back to the counter, taking a deep, shaky breath. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a kick drum.
He turned slowly to face the register, desperate to salvage his pride. Kaori was still there, clutching her math workbook to her chest like a shield, her grey eyes wide behind her glasses.
"Takahashi-san..." she squeaked.
Keisuke's face was burning, but he forced his features into a mask of rigid indifference. He stepped back to the counter, desperately needing a cover story.
"I lost a bet," Keisuke blurted out, his voice entirely too loud. "To those idiots. I'm just buying these because I lost a rock-paper-scissors bet. I keep telling them to stop reading this absolute trash, but... a bet is a bet."
He swallowed hard, his eyes darting to a single, thin manga volume sitting near the edge of the register—one that Shinosuke had pulled out earlier. Keisuke didn't even look at the title. He just nodded toward it with his chin, since his hands were still occupied acting as shields for his dignity.
"I'm actually only here for that manga," Keisuke stated with fake confidence. "See? It's mine. That's what I actually came to buy. I was waiting for this latest edition to release."
Kaori blinked. She slowly lowered her workbook, her gaze dropping to the item Keisuke had just boldly claimed.
She stared at it. Then, she looked back up at him, her fierce blush mixing with profound bewilderment.
"Takahashi-san..." Kaori murmured softly, reaching out to gently tap the cover of the book. "Are you absolutely sure you want to purchase... Sailor Moon?"
Keisuke froze. His eyes slowly darted down to the counter. Staring back at him was a bright pink book featuring a massive-eyed anime girl in a frilly dress, floating roses, and an unhealthy amount of pink glitter.
The silence in the bookstore was deafening.
Outside the window, his three friends were pressing their faces against the glass, watching him with sheer confusion.
Keisuke closed his eyes, let out a slow, defeated breath, and pulled his wallet back out.
"Yes," Keisuke gritted out, his face completely flushed, utterly refusing to back down now. "It's my favorite. Ring it up, Kaori-chan."
The silence stretched on for another agonizing, suffocating second.
Then, Kaori's shoulders gave a tiny, involuntary shake. She quickly slapped both hands over her mouth, desperately trying to maintain her strict, professional composure, but it was entirely too late.
A soft, genuine giggle slipped right through her fingers.
Keisuke's dark eyes snapped wide open. He stared at her, completely paralyzed. The fierce, humiliated heat burning on his face suddenly felt entirely different. It was the very first time he had ever heard her laugh, and the sweet, airy sound of it completely short-circuited whatever was left of his teenage brain.
Kaori slowly lowered her hands, a warm, highly amused smile completely breaking through her usual rigid demeanor. The blush on her cheeks had faded into a soft pink, and her grey eyes sparkled with playful teasing behind her glasses.
The bell above the door chimed as Yamada tapped against the glass from the outside, waving frantically for Keisuke to hurry up.
The spell broke.
Keisuke violently cleared his throat, his dark eyes darting away as he pulled the brim of his cap down low over his eyes to hide his newly returning blush. "Just... ring them all up, please, Kaori-chan," he muttered gruffly.
Kaori took a small, shaky breath, reaching for the pricing scanner attached to the register.
Kaori took a shaky breath and reached for the scanner. "Very well, Takahashi-san. But if you don't move your hands... I cannot complete the transaction. The barcode is on the back."
Keisuke pulled his hands away awkwardly, looking at the floor.
"Well," Kaori said softly, her voice losing its strict edge as she reached out and gently pulled the bright pink manga toward the scanner first. "Just buy whatever you want, Takahashi-san."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The cheerful sound of the barcode scanner echoed loudly in the quiet store.
"That will be 6,500 yen," Kaori added, a lingering smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him. "Would you like me to put it in a bag so it doesn't get ruined?"
Keisuke didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded. His heart was doing a completely ridiculous, highly un-delinquent flip against his ribs.
"Well... sure," Kaori managed to say, her voice wavering with suppressed laughter as she reached under the counter for a thick, opaque black plastic bag. "I can put them in a bag for you. But... Takahashi-san, I really didn't know you were into that kind of manga."
Keisuke's ears burned so hot they practically radiated heat. He looked down at Sailor Moon, realizing he had just traded one completely humiliating reputation for another.
But it was too late to back down now. He had to fully commit to the bit to save himself from the AV magazines.
"It's..." Keisuke started, swallowing his pride like shattered glass. He lifted his chin, telling the absolute worst, most desperate lie of his entire teenage life. "The plot is great. It's highly complex. You should read it too, Kaori-chan."
He wordlessly slid a crisp ten-thousand yen bill across the glass counter. He didn't even wait for her to count out the change. As soon as the items were loaded into a black plastic bag, he practically snatched it off the counter, clutching it to his side like it was a highly classified government secret.
"Keep the change," Keisuke muttered gruffly, spinning on his heel as he practically fled toward the exit.
Kaori quickly glanced down at the large banknote sitting on the glass. Even with the premium magazines and the manga, the total wasn't even half of that amount.
"Wait, Takahashi-san!" Kaori called out, her voice bright. "You paid way too much. Your change—"
Keisuke froze right at the entrance, his hand resting on the brass handle of the glass door. He absolutely refused to look back at her, knowing his face was still flushed a treacherous shade of red.
"Keep the tip," Keisuke muttered over his shoulder, his deep voice desperately trying to reclaim its usual cool, untouchable edge.
Without waiting for a single word of protest, he shoved the door open, bolting out onto the sunlit sidewalk.
He stepped out into the blinding, humid summer heat, immediately coming face-to-face with Shinosuke, Yamada, and Yoshino. The three of them were staring at the black bag tucked under their friend arm in sheer, absolute bewilderment.
"Keisuke..." Shinosuke started slowly, pointing at the pink book tucked under his leader's arm. "Did you just... throw us out so you could buy Sailor Moon?"
Keisuke glared at him with murderous intent, his face completely flushed. He aggressively shoved the bag straight into Shinosuke's chest.
"I'm feeling creative," Keisuke snapped, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and storming off down the sidewalk. "Shut up and walk. We're going to the arcade."
Inside the store —
Behind the register, Kaori stood completely stunned. She looked down at the large, crisp banknote in her hand, blinking behind her thick glasses. A soft, entirely genuine giggle bubbled up from her chest, echoing in the quiet, dusty shop.
"Wow," a cheerful voice chimed in from the back corner of the store. Kaori turned her head as a boy stepped out from behind the towering shelves. It was Sato Sai, her childhood friend from Hokkaido, carrying a stack of unsorted paperbacks.
He had a relaxed, easygoing smile as he walked up to the counter, leaning over the glass to whistle appreciatively at the ten-thousand yen bill.
"I leave you alone at the register for ten minutes to organize the back stock, and you're already making cash," Sai teased, his eyes crinkling warmly as he set the books down. "Which poor soul did you just rob?"
"I did not rob him!" Kaori protested, her cheeks puffing out slightly. "He shouted himself that it was a tip for me. And he isn't a university student... he's a high schooler from my year."
Sai raised an eyebrow. "Really? What did he buy to leave a tip like that?"
"A Sailor Moon manga," Kaori answered honestly, "and... some AV magazines."
Sai blinked, processing the utterly chaotic combination of items, before a knowing smirk spread across his face. "Ah. So it's hush money to keep your mouth shut."
Kaori paused, her grey eyes widening slightly. "Oh... is it? But he said he lost a bet with his friends, and that's why he was paying for it."
Sai let out a dry, amused laugh, leaning against the counter. "A bet? Or they just wanted to buy them in a pack. Those high school boys probably grouped up so they wouldn't get humiliated buying them one by one. The manga seems like it was just a panic cover-up in case they got caught."
He let out a fond sigh and reached over the counter, gently patting Kaori on the head. "You're too innocent and naive sometimes, Kaori. Anyway... I have a few more boxes of books to put away in the back."
Kaori carefully tucked the ten-thousand yen bill into the register, slipping out from behind the counter. "Wait, I'll help you!"
Meanwhile, a few streets away—
Keisuke was speed-walking down the sunlit sidewalk, ignoring Shinosuke struggling with the bag while Yamada and Akira laughed hysterically behind him.
Suddenly, Keisuke stopped in his tracks. He pitched forward and let out a massive, violent sneeze.
He aggressively rubbed the back of his hand under his nose, his dark eyes narrowing suspiciously as he looked around the empty street. According to the old superstition, sneezing meant someone was gossiping about him.
"Who the hell is badmouthing me right now?" Keisuke grumbled, his ears still burning red as his friends continued to howl with laughter.
To Be Continued —