Noriko frowned. That earned her yet
another smirk from Kuri who was having way, way too much fun.
What am I even
doing here?
Being
photographed was what she was doing. Being photographed and making
whoever worked with this kind of silly thing throw her stares of
despair.
I didn’t ask
for this.
And it was all
Kuri’s fault. Earlier, just after Noriko barely had time to send
Urufu a message saying she was going to be away for a short while,
she wondered if this was some kind of retaliation for taking Urufu
for herself. In the end it turned out Kuri was just lonely and
sulking because yet another of her promised free days turned into a
working session.
It was still
Kuri’s fault. She decided being clad in spring clothes outdoors in
January was a proper line of work. Noriko hadn’t, so why was she
here transforming into an icicle when she could have snuggled closer
to Urufu in a shared twosome free from prying eyes? Because Kuri
didn’t want to be alone was why. Which, if any gods still didn’t
get the unfairness of it all, made it Kuri’s fault.
And I thought
models had to be tall. Must mean I’m here as some kind of comic
sidekick to Kuri’s beauty. That thought popped into Noriko’s
mind just as a new series of photos were being taken, and the
unsurprising result was yet another delivery of groans and looks of
despair. And I probably won’t even get paid for this. Sucks to
be me! Other girls might jump at the chance to play model for a
few hours, but Noriko wasn’t other girls.
An icy tendril of
wind found itself inside whatever flimsiness made a poor attempt at
pretending being a school uniform. Whoever came up with this
idiocy? School uniforms were designed to last three years if the
owner didn’t grow. The joke Noriko wore right now wouldn’t have
survived a single trimester, not even the short winter one.
That was her
other gripe as well. It might look like a winter uniform, but in
reality it played the role of a shoddy summer one. Maybe it looked
better for taking idiot photos, but it was cold, cold, cold to wear.
By now Noriko was certain its only purpose was to make her skin take
on a colour better matching the sad excuse for a uniform; which meant
a bluish tint that signalled freezing to death rather than whatever
cuteness the people here were after.
When the next icy
gust of wind hit her Noriko decided to get a grip on her personal
universe. She lifted her head and met Kuri’s crew face to face. The
reward was an approving nod from the photographer and then Noriko’s
world filled with an endless smattering as he threw his camera to his
face and started moving in circles around her.
“Good! One step
forward! Like that! Lean right! Good!”
Noriko did as
told. The instructions were easy enough to follow.
“Finally! We
could use this,” someone in the background said.
Noriko didn’t
listen. She just did whatever the photographer told her. It was
almost like being lulled to sleep.
“Yeah! That’s
it! Guess Ageruman-san knew from the beginning after all.” That
voice belonged to the only female in the crew.
Noriko wasn’t
sure what it was that Kuri knew, and it really didn’t matter. The
less mistakes Noriko did the quicker she’d get away from here and
the more time she could spend with Urufu. Preferably alone with
Urufu. She still hadn’t forgiven Kuri for sabotaging their date.
After what seemed
to be successful shots Noriko finally got to take a seat where she
could enjoy the divine luxury of a heavy coat and a paper mug with
steaming tea. Freezing to death apparently made you re-evaluate the
concept of luxury.
“Kuri, are we
done yet,” she complained to the chair to her left.
Tall blonde just
smiled and shook her head. Just like Noriko Kuri was draped in a
coat, and she also nursed a mug with something warm.
“No joking. You
crashed a perfectly good date for me.” Noriko felt she deserved the
right to sulk. She was probably pouting as well, but right now she
didn’t care. Urufu was somewhere else. Hopefully he did his share
of sulking, but she wasn’t certain. When faced with a problem he
couldn’t solve he tended to dig up another one instead.
“They promised
me the rest of the trip off, but they broke that promise.” Kuri
managed to look a little ashamed. “I wanted someone to share the
misery with.” A short pause followed during which both of them
sipped some tea. “I’m sorry.” And then another spell of
silence. “I want to be with Ryu as well.”
Noriko felt a
thin smile stretch over her face. Anyone wanting to spend extra time
with her idiot bro needed their brain examined. She also knew there
were hordes of girls in dire need of such an examination. “You’ve
got horrible taste in men,” Noriko tried. It wasn’t entirely
true, but Ryu had been such a pest the entire autumn.
“We both do,”
Kuri retorted, but there was no malice in her voice.
It hurt a little.
Those words sounded like Kuri regretted ever being with Urufu. Still,
Noriko understood that wasn’t what she meant. “Urufu is a great
man,” Noriko said. Not that he needed any defending from her side,
but it was a matter of loyalty if nothing else.
Kuri emptied her
mug and made ready to continue the shoot. Coat left on her chair and
ludicrous flimsiness never meant for January she stood up and took a
few steps in the direction the crew beckoned. Then she halted and
turned. “He’s a great boy.”
Noriko let her
own coat drop and followed Kuri into the freezing winter. For once
she both understood and agreed. In ways Urufu was very much a boy and
not a grown man. Fifty years didn’t matter. Fifty years from now
that would probably still hold true.
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