The Silent Me Who Talks on the Phone at Midnight with the Class’s Most Beautiful Honor Student - Chapter 1

Episode 4 – At Night, Talking to Strangers on My Phone

“I’m home—”

When I got back and went into the living room, my little sister, Chitose, was standing in front of the mirror, tending to her blonde hair.

“Chitose, I’m home.”
“Welcome back. Seriously, you only need to say it once.”

She shot me an annoyed look. What did I even do?

“……”

I stayed quiet, went to the kitchen, pulled some barley tea from the fridge, poured it into a glass, and took a sip. It felt a little awkward, but ever since I got used to being quiet at school, I found myself staying quiet even when it was just the two of us.

Then Chitose, now moving on to her eye makeup, let out an exaggerated sigh without even looking at me.

“Brother, how can you stay so silent when it’s just us? It’s uncomfortable.”
“…It’s not like that. If you bring something up, I’ll talk.”
“Ugh, gross. Don’t dump that responsibility on me.”

She turned to me with an exasperated look, makeup tools still in hand. Honestly, part of the reason I found it hard to talk was because she was kind of scary when she got like this.

My sister, now in her third year of junior high, suddenly turned into a full-on gyaru last year because of her friends. It wasn’t like it happened gradually over months—it was like she went to stay over at a friend’s house during summer vacation, and when she came back, she was a gyaru. Even our parents and I thought, “Wait, did one of Chitose’s friends come over?”

Her hair was so perfectly dyed blonde it looked like something out of an anime, her uniform was worn loosely, and she spent her days obsessing over makeup, nails, and the latest photo-worthy sweets. As her brother, seeing how she padded her chest with bras was… complicated, to say the least.

Just like the model gyarus you see online, she was crazy outgoing and always on the phone with friends or hanging out with them on weekends. Compared to that, me suddenly becoming “the quiet guy” in high school must look ridiculously pathetic. She often snapped things like, “Don’t be a background character at home too, talk more already.”

“Let’s see… There’s leftover cutlet from the deli, so maybe I’ll make katsudon.”

I looked inside the fridge and started slicing onions, planning dinner. Since our parents usually got home late on weekdays, we either ate deli food as-is or I’d throw together something simple for the two of us.

Sometimes I envied people with parents who cooked for them, but I’d been doing this since middle school, so by now it was second nature.

“Well, even if I want to start a conversation, I don’t really know what you like to talk about. Do you even have hobbies or anything?”
“Hmm, now that you mention it… not really.”
“Wow. Your life sounds boring.”

Was that seriously necessary? I’m literally making katsudon for you too, you know.

“Look, I can talk about pretty much anything. You already know what kinds of topics I can handle, right?”
“Okay, umm… you know how with tissue boxes, when you pull one out, sometimes like three come out at once?”
“Don’t underestimate my range.”

What kind of brother has bonding conversations with his sister about tissue boxes?

“Honestly, I don’t think I could handle talking to someone like you. Back in middle school we talked a bit, but now? It feels like any conversation would just die instantly.”
“Yeah, yeah, my bad. Anyway, I’ll add the beaten eggs when I finish the katsudon.”

By then she had finished her makeup, and now she was tapping away at her phone at lightning speed. Why was she even putting on makeup after getting home? Just for practice? Gyaru habits are a mystery.

“Hey, are you even doing okay at school like this?”

Whoa, straight to the point.

I didn’t want to lie, but if I told her, “I kinda just ended up playing the quiet guy,” she’d probably shoot back with something like, “Then just say you’re gonna start talking a lot from now on, duh,” and that’d be the end of it. If only it were that simple…

So I chose to dodge the question.

“Yeah, I’m managing fine.”
“Really? I’m seriously worried, though.”

She sighed again. Great. No matter what I say, she’s gonna react negatively, huh.

“Anyway, I’m worried. So at least practice talking, even if it’s to the wall or something.”
“Got it.”

Feeling a little deflated after being scolded like that, I left the living room. Sheesh. Is she worried about me, or just picking on me?

Later, after finishing my homework and having dinner while Chitose gave me “lessons” on the latest popular artists so I’d “fit in better at school,” it was suddenly 11 p.m.

When Mom and Dad got home one after the other, I greeted them with “Welcome back” and told them there was katsudon left, then went up to my room.

“Alright… time to do it again.”

I knew I couldn’t go on like this. If I kept staying silent, my communication skills would only get worse. Even if I couldn’t fix it in high school, I had to be ready to talk normally in college. That meant I needed to practice every day.

That’s why I had started this new routine.

“Oh, I got a DM.”

It was a message from an account with a café latte as its icon. Judging from the profile, it seemed to belong to a girl. Her posts didn’t look weird or shady either.

“Maybe I’ll try talking to her.”

I plugged in my wired earphones with a mic, opened the app, and went back to the DM screen. After replying with a short message and waiting a few minutes, I got back, “It’s fine.” I checked the reply, then tapped the call button that appeared at the bottom.

I cleared my throat as the line rang a few times, until the other person picked up.

“Hello?”
“Ah, is this Mukk-san? Nice to meet you.”
“Good evening, Yukipi-san. This is Mukk.”
“Wow, you have such a nice voice!”

And just like that, talking to strangers at night had become part of my daily routine.