Outsider Syndrome: Everlasting (Bonus Content)

Chapter 1 - "Smiling Sachiko"

Naoto Kisaragi's POV:

The happiness she gave me was a gift I'd treasure forever.

"You don't smile much, do you?"

It started with those words—on the day I found her huddled between trash cans, tears streaking her cheeks from a recent breakup. It was completely out of pocket. I'd stepped outside of the sushi shop I was working part-time at at the time and had heard whimpers muffled by the torrential rainfall. The small voice in my head tried to convince me it was another stray that had wandered into the alleyway but my curiosity had won. And there she was, the prettiest girl I'd ever laid eyes on—all dolled up, mascara running, and shivering in the cold.

I said the first thing that came to mind, stupid as it sounded: "You're the one not smiling."

"What are you talking about? There's no way I wouldn't smile because my jerk of a boyfriend stood me up then dumped me through text. I'm overjoyed, believe me. See?"

She taped up her wobbling lips for emphasis between fits of snivels. It was the saddest excuse of a 'grin,' if I had anything to say about it, but it was clear she was doing it to cheer herself up. My sympathy was the last thing she needed at this moment. She didn't need consoling or somebody to get angry on her behalf. That much was clear.

Her college boyfriend had invited her to the cafe across the street for a date, and she waited and waited for him to show up. When the sun had set, she finally received a message: him signalling the end of their relationship. How she'd ended up at this back alley was a mystery, but I wagered she was crying so hard she hardly paid attention to her surroundings and lost track of the time.

I invited her inside the shop. Since my boss had left me in charge of closing up, it was empty, but a far better alternative than continuing our conversation out in the storm.

"I can't believe I spent all weekend getting ready. Spent a fortune on this outfit and earrings. Even put off eating so I could fit into this dress." She'd joined me in the kitchen after freshening herself up in the washroom. She balled her fists tight enough to cut off her circulation. "When the rain lets up, I'm going over to his apartment to murder him in his sleep. Can I borrow this kitchen knife?"

She'd snagged the biggest dagger in the kitchen.

I recoiled.

"Hey!"

"I'll return it. Won't even know I did the deed."

"You—"

"Sachiko."

When I finally snagged it back from her tiny hands and repositioned my glasses that had fallen down my nose, I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Huh?"

"Not "hey" or "you." Sachiko." Her wholehearted belly laugh brought a sparkle to her baby blue eyes. "Now that you've met me you'll have amazing luck. Not to toot my own horn or anything but everyone who meets me never fails to tell me that. Even that ex who shall not be named."

It was a play of the meaning of her name, obviously, but it left me at a loss in spite of that.

"What's got you so sour?" Sachiko added petulantly. "Haven't you heard that smiling is the first step to happiness? Regardless of if you're having the crummiest day, by forcing yourself to wear one, it'll raise your spirits."

I discarded the knife on the counter and manoeuvred to the opposite end of the room. "Clearly, you're all right, so I'll give you my umbrella so you can go home."

Fluttering her lengthy eyelashes, she knocked her head back up at me. "But. . ."

"I have to close up and head home. Run off to your parents if you want to complain."