Calling Her Risha
I want to see those kids from the elementary facility again. Not to beg for forgiveness or anything—just to hear their stories from back then. It feels like that's the only way I can move forward. It's the sole solution I've come up with for this messed-up state where I can't push away the girls coming at me, but I can't get close to them either.
But once I make up my mind, I'm totally lost on how. I don't know anything about them. Sure, I couldn't forget their names or faces, but they were just fleeting connections from the facility. How the hell am I supposed to track down kids I barely knew over a decade later?
My attitude back then didn't help. I was so drunk on the attention from those girls that I never bothered looking deeper—who they really were, any of that. I'm a total dunce at this stuff, so I need to borrow someone's hand. But my one confidante isn't thrilled about it at all.
Convincing Dana is no easy task.
"Lily. Honestly, I don't get it. Why dig up something that's already over?"
"I have to. I just... have to."
"......No. That was a slip."
"..."
"You said you wanted to break the promise. I kinda get how you're feeling."
"Then."
"Still no."
This stubborn ass. We're both frustrated with each other. For days after the topic first came up, I put real effort into persuading her. Heehee, flashing innocent smiles, clinging tight with a big pleeease? Come on? Pretty please? pout. Spoiled her rotten. Thanks to me, she didn't get through a single page of that book she loves.
Every time she'd flip a page, I'd stick to her like glue, whining in that cutesy voice that doesn't suit me at all. Even when she was in the bathroom taking a bath—no exceptions. I jimmied the lock and barged in, and man, it had been ages since she gave my gut a solid punch.
I teased her, Ow, what's this washboard doing glued to your chest? Where'd you leave the boobs? But it hurt so damn much, tears squirting out, and she didn't even pretend to care.
Ugh, that violent bitch.
...That was just last night. And this morning, I woke up and hit her with it again, no shame. She's pretending not to hear me now, turning her head completely away.
I let out a soft sigh.
......
As things dragged on, even I—who'd been trying to see her side—finally snapped. Screw it. Why do I need your permission? I'm finally psyching myself up to take a step forward, so why are you blocking me so hard? You want me stuck like this forever? Vague with you, vague with everyone else? Until when? You'll get tired of it. Everyone will. And when I'm left alone, whose fault is that?
When I think about it, this is entirely my problem. Separate from Dana. So I won't rely on her for it. She'd flip if she heard, but isn't it easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission?
I'll just do it and deal with the fallout. If she catches me later, I'll grovel: Sowwy, forgive meee, crawling on my belly or whatever.
So, what now? Pondering, I come up with a pretty solid plan. There's always that one person around who can pull off anything if she sets her mind to it.
Help me out, Alicia!
"Long time no see, Lily."
"It's only been three days..."
"That's long enough, right?"
If Alicia says so, then sure. It does feel kinda nostalgic. Seeing her out of uniform is new. She's in a totally different style this time—a thin, luxurious dress that hugs her just right. Those bare shoulders are lewd. Her straight collarbone's fully on display. What a sinful outfit.
Naturally, I steal glances at her outfit, her styling, just like at the aquarium. Even her face. That doll-like face alive with energy, looking right at me—it's so pretty my heart's pounding harder than usual.
"You've changed a bit since I last saw you, Lily."
"Huh? How?"
"The wary edge is gone, I guess."
I'm a little shocked. Did she notice my mood shift? Just from one look at my face? Maybe Alicia has some mind-reading power or something. Ridiculous, but the thought slips in anyway.
She reaches out like she's testing me, her palm gently stroking my cheek. It warms where we touch, but I don't pull away—just blink occasionally, holding her gaze steady. Watching me, she smiles softly.
"Wanna do something?"
"Huh?"
"We're here together. Wanna grab dessert like usual? You like ice cream, right?"
"Yeah. Love it..."
"Love it? For real?"
That makes me flash back to the first time she ever coaxed me like this. So childish, you. Don't keep making me say "love." I'm not a kid anymore. Assigning meaning to every word, secretly loving it—pervy much?
I play dumb, like always.
"...Yeah. I love ice cream."
Whether she knows my heart or not, Alicia smiles, satisfied. And just like that, we head to our usual dessert cafe.
The owner lady greets us warmly, we sit in our spot, but Alicia plops down right next to me instead of across. And boldly rests her hand on my thigh. I blink at her wide-eyed, and she stares back all what? something wrong? without a shred of shame.
No, the skinship—sure, we've done way more, but this is so sudden...
"......"
"So it wasn't my imagination."
"Wh-what wasn't."
"You. Normally you'd grumble or freak out."
"...Dunno."
Alicia smacks her lips watching me. ...She's thinking about ice cream, right? Yeah?
"Spit it out if you have something to say."
"How'd you know?"
"You've been chewing your lip like that since earlier. Hard to miss."
"Ugh."
"Confession maybe? Wanna go out?"
"No way!"
"Yeah, figured not."
What kind of girl is she? That attitude like go ahead, confess if you want—it's ridiculous. So annoying. If her face wasn't so damn pretty, I'd be ripping her apart in my head right now.
Whatever I think, Alicia keeps deducing.
"You're agonizing over whether to say it, so you must want something from me. Not a confession."
"..."
"So, a favor?"
Yeah, smartass. Nailed it. I spill the prepared words.
I want to find someone. From elementary school days. But I don't know much about her, so I'm stuck.
Alicia hears me out, then says flatly,
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"There must be a reason you wanna meet."
"......Just 'cause?"
"Not really feeling it without one."
Fair. If someone asked me the same, I wouldn't be eager either. "Just wanna meet" ain't a reason. I'd think, What, can't even tell me why? Rude.
Spill it. Tell me. She's prodding.
No choice—I show a bit of truth. Squeeze my eyes shut, then open.
"I need to talk to her. To face things for real."
"Face who?"
"......"
I don't answer. But she gets it. Her hand on my thigh gets more insistent—proof.
I feel like I'm melting. Alicia murmurs confessionally.
"Lily. Truth is, I know what happened to you."
"What?"
"Roughly."
"How?"
"I took an interest. That answer you?"
No. Not at all. But that's not the point.
"So, for something like that, not really wanna help."
Her face is firm. After Dana, another reliable person turns me down. I'm getting depressed. Why's everyone blocking me from moving forward? I just wanna get along with you all. That's it.
"......"
"......"
But I'm not giving up. Unlike stubborn Dana, Alicia has a weak spot I can lean on. My trump card.
One she gave me herself. I roll it on my tongue. Feels super awkward. Wonder if I should even say it out loud.
But I decided to change. I sneak a peek at her face. From right after enrollment, with the top student. The moment we met, she allowed it.
"Risha."
Her pet name. Time freezes. Alicia—no, Risha's body and face creak around like an unoiled puppet, staring at me. She turns fully to face me. I say to her,
"Help me..."
I need you.
Alicia makes a face I've never seen. A bit shocked, maybe happy? Or just flustered—could be my imagination. One thing's clear: the nickname surprises her.
Even though she told me. Said to use it.
Why that face? It's just a shortened name. My lips tingle. Not just my lips—my eyes on her, my chest that's been thumping wildly, everything itches, and I'm in a bit of a bind.
