A classmate who used to be called "Shirobuta" (white pig) has become "Snow White" and is now featured in gravure magazines after a few years of not seeing her. - Chapter 1
- A classmate who used to be called "Shirobuta" (white pig) has become "Snow White" and is now featured in gravure magazines after a few years of not seeing her.
- Chapter 1 - A Childhood Friend who was Called "Shirobuta"(White Pig)
Chapter 1 A Childhood Friend who was Called “Shirobuta”(White Pig)
“Oi, don’t follow me!”
Carrying a flat school bag that had been used for three whole years. I turned around with a frown on my face, Shirata Kirika, who was a little out of breath, and with a puzzled look on her face said a rebuttal.
“I’m not following you. My house is in the same direction.”
“You say that, Shirobuta (White Pig), but you actually like Ameno, don’t cha~?”
“I~I’m not! Fine, then I’ll take the long way home! Idiot!”
― A friend of mine who was going home with us began to tease her. I’m Ameno, Ameno Satsuki, a cheeky grade schooler at that time and as Kirika Shirata, aka Shirobuta, said, our houses were close to each other. To be more specific, the big house just one street away from our apartment was Shirata’s house. Since we lived in the same neighborhood, we used to go back and forth to each other’s houses to play and catch bugs together until we were in second grade. In the early grades of elementary school, it was common for boys and girls to play together.
―― I was in fourth grade at that time.
After the lower grades, we were in the middle grades, and after that we will be in the upper grades. By this time, it was the norm for boys and girls to play separately. And when boys hung out with girls, they got teased, and soon, a rift started to form between the two genders. Then, when we reached middle school, we suddenly started seeing girls as love interests.
And now I’m in my second year of high school. Although I didn’t go to the same school as Shirata in both junior high and high school, I still recall her every now and then.
She was pale, not very tall, and in fact, she was more chubby than fat. Although she was not good at physical education because of her body shape, she was pretty good at studying, and when she talked to girls, she always had a friendly smile on her face. We were in the same class in the first and second grade, though I don’t remember how we became friends, but as I mentioned earlier, we were close enough to go back and forth to each other’s houses.
I’ve never been to another girl’s house up until now, my second year of high school. I remember her house was neat and tidy, and the snacks she served were very tasty and fancy.
On a different note, I’ve heard the theory that club activities were originally created to take away the physical strength of youths who were unpredictable and had too much energy to spare, and to waste their time. To put it simply, when kids had too much time and energy, you never knew what they would do, so you might as well tire them out.
So, as for me, who has time, energy and no money, I work at a convenience store after school ends. I work every Monday and Wednesday evening from five to ten o’clock, from 17:00 to 22:00. Ten hours a week, forty hours a month. They say that time can’t be bought with money, but since there’s nothing in particular I want to do at the moment, I’d rather exchange my time for money than waste it.
When you work at a convenience store, you get to know a lot about cigarettes even though you don’t smoke. I wish they’d just tell me the brand name instead of their number, since it’s a hassle to find the number among all the brands lined up on the shelf. I mean, do we really need this many? There are more of them than juice or rice balls, but are they really in this much demand? Well, maybe that’s why they exist, but do we really need that many brands?
Without a care in the world, I repeat “Welcome,” “Thank you very much,” and add “There is a charge, but would you like an eco bag? I think it was unnecessary, but I’ll keep it simple because it would be considered as a political criticism.
The hands of the clock seem to like playing “Daruma-san ga Tottorunda” (Daruma-san fell down), and if you keep glancing at it, it will not move forward at all. The trick is to avoid looking at the clock as much as possible.
I don’t know what time it is, but judging from the tiredness in my legs, I’d say it’s around 8 pm. A magazine was presented to me and I quickly went to the cash register.
“That’s 300 yen.”
I don’t say “It’ll be 300 yen”. It’s a small thing, but that’s how it is.
“Do you work here?”
While I looked at the cash register next to me, not realizing that I was being spoken to, the person continued as if to protest against my behavior.
Me? I turned my gaze and found a girl about the same age as me standing in front of me. She was a tall girl with long black hair. She was wearing a school uniform and had smooth white skin. It wasn’t the uniform of the school I was attending, so I thought I might have misunderstood, but since she said “Satsuki-kun” I assumed she was talking to me because my full name is Ameno Satsuki.
“Eh, yeah. That’s right.”
Knowing that it’s not good to talk privately while working, since there was no customer in line, I replied to her. The person who spoke also looked behind her, and after confirming that there was no one in line, she smiled at me and whispered.
“Oh, perhaps, you don’t remember me?”
For some reason, she held the magazine beneath her face and pointed at the magazine cover with her finger.
I was starting to think, “This is going to be a pain in the ass” but that thought was instantly blown away. The cover of the magazine, which I was planning to buy later, had the words “Kirika Shirata” printed on it, and next to it was the smiling face of a young girl with black hair and white skin.
When I compared the cover page with her face, she nodded her head with a triumphant smile and said,
“Fufu, correct answer.”
The beautiful girl standing in front of me had no resemblance to the Kirika Shirata, aka “Shirobuta” from my sixth grade memories. However, if you took a second closer look, you would see that there was indeed a resemblance. She had big and clear eyes with brown pupils, a memorable friendly smile and white skin that was partly the reason why she was called a white pig.
Shirata shyly covers her mouth with the magazine. The magazine, as mentioned above, has Shirata on the cover. The gravure at the front of the magazine comes before the front color page of a popular manga.
A salaryman-looking customer was about to line up behind Shirata, so I urged her to move away from the register with my hand.
“The next customer is waiting.”
“Eh!? Oh, I’m sorry!”
Shirata hastily turned around and bowed gracefully to the next customer. Then, shyly, she waved her hand at me and muttered, “See you later.”
Looking at my watch, it was a little past 8 pm. My classmate, who was once called “Shirobuta,” was on the front cover of my favorite manga magazine, but that wasn’t the reason why I was going to buy three copies when I finished my work later.
TLN: I’m back and here is a new series for everyone, I will also resume on updating my other 2 series Company slave and Kuuderera.
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