My Childhood Friend Meows Under My Skirt. (GL) - Chapter 1

As soon as I entered Class A, I spotted Maki Matsuhara. Finding her among the bustling students was as easy as spotting a cat in Miyage Town.

She was seated in the second row by the window, third from the front. Her naturally curly black hair twisted and turned, and she always wore a gray hoodie beneath the school-issued blazer. With a frown that suggested displeasure, she rested her elbows on the desk, her fists never leaving her cheeks.

No one seemed inclined to speak to her. Just then, I noticed a girl from our first year class approach Maki. They exchanged a few words, but the conversation ended with an awkward smile, and the girl walked away.

The girl joined another group, her tense expression easing. It was a scene I had witnessed many times before when we were in the same class in middle school.

A seating chart was posted in front of the blackboard, and I checked it. Sakura-chan, clutching two pieces of bread, quickly confirmed her seat and settled in. I was left behind, hurrying to check. It appeared to be arranged in alphabetical order, and I realized I was in the last seat of the same row as Maki.

On my way to my seat, I found myself staring directly at her face. Perhaps sensing my gaze, she looked up, and our eyes met. It was a miracle that I didn’t stop in my tracks.

What should I do?

Should I say something?

We hadn’t spoken in over a year.

Maki’s expression barely changed. Her eyebrows lifted slightly, just a twitch. From that reaction, it seemed she had also spotted my name on the seating chart.

No matter how much I thought, the words I should say simply wouldn’t come to me. At the very least, I was doing my best not to stop walking and make things awkward.

The moment I took another step closer, the bell rang, as if I had stepped on a switch. That broke our gaze.

It was Maki who looked away first.

Maki Matsuhara transferred from another town around the end of the second grade in elementary school. At that time, we hardly spoke and hung out with different groups. When we became third graders, we ended up in the same class again.

The first time we spoke was during an extracurricular activity where we were tasked with sketching the cats that lived in our town. We were to find our favorite within the designated area and draw it, with the best pieces displayed at the town hall.

There was a small stream behind the elementary school, and I decided to draw a tabby cat lounging on a bench there. To avoid disturbing its nap, I sat on a bench a little distance away. To my surprise, I noticed someone else on another distant bench, in a similar position, drawing the same tabby cat. It was Maki.

She noticed me too, and our eyes met across the tabby. We should have been focused on the cat, but for some reason, we kept locking eyes. I don’t remember who spoke first, but by the end of the class, we showed each other our drawings. That was the beginning of our friendship.

Whether it was during school, lunch breaks, after school, or on days off, I was always with Maki. Even when playing with a few classmates, Maki was always part of the group.

When I was with Maki, I felt distinctly different from when I was with other classmates. It was more akin to how I felt when I was with my parents. Being with Maki made me understand why the term “best friend” was written with those characters. There was no need for pretense, and the face I wanted to see first thing in the morning was always Maki’s.

Back then, Maki always wore a white cap to school. Sometimes she wore it during class, and our homeroom teacher would always scold her, but Maki never took it off. Perhaps sensing there was a special reason behind it, the teacher eventually stopped reprimanding her.

Later, when I secretly asked Maki why she wore it, she simply replied, “Because I like it.” Our homeroom teacher once called me to the staff room to ask about the cap, having noticed my close friendship with Maki. It was tough to come up with a lie.

Just before we entered middle school, we had a sleepover at Maki’s house. We slept in the same bed, and she held my hand.

“I feel like we’ll be together not just in middle school, but also in high school and even college. It feels like we won’t be apart.”

“I kind of feel the same way.”

“It’s like a curse.”

“A curse? That sounds unpleasant.”

We playfully blamed each other for being the source of the curse and laughed. After a while, Maki said, “Then let’s call it a blessing.”

“A blessing?”

“I learned that word from a novel I read recently. Blessing. I think it’s the opposite of a curse.”

“That’s nice. We’re under a blessing that keeps us together.”

The blessing ended around the end of our second year in middle school. Due to her parents’ circumstances, Maki had to move. I heard about it from another classmate (at that time, it was still just a rumor).

When I confronted Maki, it turned out to be true. I was shocked by the move itself, but more than anything, I was deeply hurt that I hadn’t heard the news directly from her. I ended up blaming her unilaterally. Maki had her reasons, and for a while, we didn’t budge. It was the first time we had fought so fiercely since we met. Yet, after a few days, Maki apologized, and I did the same.

The move was set for July of our third year. Each time we met, Maki would talk about running away from home, living alone, or even living together, in a tone that was hard to tell if she was serious or joking. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just laughed, neither denying nor affirming.

As the move approached, Maki suggested we go somewhere far away for one last adventure without deciding on a destination. It sounded like a fun journey, like something a cat would do, and I might have thought so under normal circumstances.

But the word “last” made me hesitate. After that journey, I wouldn’t be able to see Maki like this anymore. We wouldn’t be able to frequently visit the same places, laugh in the same spots, or play at the same times. All those harsh realities suddenly overwhelmed me, and I became paralyzed.

On the day of the planned trip, I lied and said I had a cold, and I didn’t go to the park where we were supposed to meet. It was a large sports park run by the city, and the meeting spot was on a small hill within the park.

Maki waited there the whole time.

Because she knew my cold was a lie.

Yet she still hoped I would change my mind and come.

In the end, I didn’t go. That was when the blessing was severed.

The next day, Maki stopped speaking to me in class. I apologized repeatedly and explained my reasons, but she wouldn’t forgive me. So I stubbornly stopped apologizing.

A month later, I learned that Maki’s move had been canceled. Once again, it wasn’t from her; I heard it from my mother. It was a message passed from Maki’s mother to mine. It was nighttime when I tried to call, but I couldn’t get through, so the next day, I waited for Maki on our way to school to greet her. The move was averted, and we could still be together. I thought this would mend things.

Maki ignored me and walked past. In that moment, I realized she no longer intended to forgive me. Just for missing one promise. No, perhaps that journey had been that important to her. But I would never have the chance to confirm that.

In the latter half of our third year, we didn’t speak at all, and I started spending time with other classmates. Maki was alone. Even when I found out we would be attending the same high school, it didn’t lead to any conversation. Once we became high school students, our classes were separated for the first time, and eventually, we didn’t even see each other’s faces. I didn’t know how Maki was doing, and I was busy enjoying the town’s cats, finding joy in those days.

So I really think that was a curse.

A heavy impact jolted the back of my head, waking me from a deep sleep. Perhaps the new desk in my new class had some sort of sleep-inducing effect. Before I knew it, the first homeroom of our second year had ended, and the classroom was lively.

I glanced to the side and saw Sakura-chan standing there, holding a Japanese dictionary. I shuddered at the realization of what had just hit me.

“Did you know, Sakura-chan? A dictionary is for looking up words, not for dropping on someone’s head!”

“Did you know, Ichika? Homeroom isn’t a time for napping!”

“Why would you drop something so heavy of all things…”

“Words are heavy.”

“I don’t understand that.”

As we continued our banter, she almost dropped the dictionary on me again. This time, I desperately fought back and managed to escape.

After our exchange, I stretched and yawned.

“Anyway, I was up all night making cat stuff. A homemade cat toy. But thanks to that, I ended up with something cute!”

“Seriously, it’s impressive how you do that even though you can’t keep a cat. Your DIY cat goods hobby is something else.”

My family can’t have a cat because my dad is allergic. If there’s anyone who can’t rejoice in the town’s prosperity, it’s probably him. So all the DIY goods I made are meant to be playthings for the town’s stray cats.

Sakura-chan slung her sports bag over her shoulder and started to leave.

“Well, I have club activities now.”

“The track team is impressive. You don’t even take a break on the day of the opening ceremony.”

“Oh, and while you were sleeping, the homeroom teacher decided on the committee members without asking. Make sure to check it out.”

“Wait, what? Did they put me in something? Health committee? Or maybe the broadcasting committee? Could it be the sports festival organizing committee? I don’t want that; it sounds like a hassle.”

“I’ll be blunt. It’s your fault for sleeping.”

“Words are heavy!”

Leaving me slumped over, Sakura-chan quickly exited the classroom. I gave up, stood up, and began checking the assignment list written on the blackboard.

My name wasn’t on the health committee, the broadcasting committee, or the sports festival organizing committee. I recognized a few names, all of students who had often dozed off in the first year. It was a complete targeting of the silent students.

Towards the end, I finally found my name under the “Beautification Committee” section. Beautification committee. What would that entail? Probably something like cleaning the school. I couldn’t imagine at all.

Suddenly, I caught sight of a name listed right next to mine, and all worries about the committee’s activities instantly vanished to the back of my mind.

“Maki Matsuhara”

I had become a member of the same committee as her.