Chapter 21: CH 13

Mika's Victims

On the evening of the day I ate meat sauce for lunch, I had some free time and was about to prepare dinner when I heard the doorbell ringing.

(Uh, Who is it?)

If it was a newspaper solicitor or a door-to-door salesman, I could just say no, but if it was a friend of Mika’s, I didn’t think I could play Mika’s role well in front of them.

(Oh no, oh no! What should I do?)

As I was panicking, I heard a knock on the door of the house.

“Are you there, Nogami-sama? You’re here, aren’t you? The lights are on, and I can hear some noise from the TV or computer… You’re here, aren’t you?”

(Scary… But her voice is a female’s. Does she know Mika, after all?)

Could it be Yuki? I thought about it, but it was very different from the impression I had gotten from her message on my phone, and she would not use honorifics with Mika.

As I remained silent and said nothing, the knocking on the door, which had been gentle earlier, became stronger and stronger. Tak!

There was a resounding sound.

Was she there to collect some sort of debt? As I was wondering this, the doorknob starting to turn.

“Who are you?”

I let out a gruff voice, feeling a little angry at the thought of breaking down the door to my apartment, and at her behaviour of trying to break into my house without permission.

“It’s Mamori. Chika Mamori Chinatsu. Do you remember me?”

No, I didn’t know.

But the fact that she asked if I remembered her, it seemed like I knew her.

To be honest, I didn’t want to talk much because it might bring out a lot of things, but if I left it like this, the door would soon be destroyed.

“Huh…”

Letting out a sigh of contemplation, I opened the door and found… no one there.

“Huh? Is this a prank?”

“Over here.”

I heard a voice from a little below me, so I looked over to see a girl with bob cut black hair and red glasses was there.

She was wearing a long-sleeved grey top, a black jersey with a white sidelines underneath, and a light blue apron.

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Maybe she was about 140″ tall? And I was not going to say what, but she was probably an A.

“Please don’t patronize me.”

“…….”

“Don’t sit there silently and try to avoid making eye contact with me. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

What was I supposed to do?

Well, even though she was a little short, I could still see her, and to be honest, I think she was doing it on purpose.

She was violently handling the door to my apartment and I was a little angry with her.

“Ch-ch-check?”

“Oh, Saki! You were okay! This girl didn’t do anything to her!”

“Hey, hey, don’t go in like that!”

“What’s with the manly language? And is there something wrong with it if I come into your house?

Oh, you’re the kind of person who can’t go out in public without makeup on. That’s why I hate 1grayu.”

“No, I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about manners!”

I mean, she was very prejudiced against gyaru, and she was kind of difficult for me.

“Oh, what? Nogami-san, did you just say that to me?”

“No, of course not.”

“No matter how many times I warned you about things at the park, you would always say, “Shut up,” or snicker at my breasts…?

Oh, by the way, you asked me who I was earlier. I think you asked me that?…”

(Yeah, that’s it. She seems to be a victim of Mika. And she’s trembling.)

How much common sense did the former owner of the body I’m in have?

In the room, I was holding my head and shouting in my mind, “Mika-san!” and Chinatsu-san still trembling, saying, “I can’t believe this gal has common sense…”

And then there were the three of us, Saki-chan tilting her head as she watched us.

Saki-chan’s popularity is so high that the main story is already becoming a dusty story with her, so if you see anything other than a heartwarming story, just think of it as a side story.

Gyaru (Japanese: ギャル; Japanese pronunciation: [ɡʲa̠ɾɯ̟ᵝ]), a Japanese transliteration of the English slang word gal, is a Japanese fashion subculture. … An alternative explanation is that the subculture started with jeans brand Levi Strauss’s 1968 advertisement campaign for a women’s jeans line named ‘Levi’s For Gals.’

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