A comfortable different world life Chapter 17

(Please see my note at the end of the chapter.)

Author's Note:

PV 500,000 breakthrough & Unique 100,000 breakthrough!

A short story in thanks (^^)/

Extra Part -Aoyama Kou's Reminiscence-

Since long ago, I have been mistaken for a girl in this way many times.

Silky black hair.

Fair skin.

Lips the color of peaches.

Long eyelashes surrounding large eyes.

Shyly hiding from acquaintances behind my parents.

…I wonder if that's why?

When I was a child I was withdrawn, and a lot of the neighborhood kids and the children of my relatives were girls.

Many times, I was taken out against my will with the hair that I hated in braids wearing girl's clothing and make-up.

After all, by the time it reached the point that the adults began to partic.i.p.ate, I'd become like a living dress-up doll.

Frequently they'd put me in dresses covered in frills and ribbons.

Even my everyday clothing was all girl's clothes.

My parents also took things too far as a result and didn't let me cut my hair, and they became unable to see me as anything but a girl.

—It hurt and hurt so much that I couldn't take it.

I soon stopped my parents from going overboard, and they let me cut my hair so that it was short, but they just had me wear a wig when I changed clothes.

That was probably the source of my dislike of women.

I could only hold onto the recognition that “women = people forcing me to wear women's clothes (something I hate people doing)”.

I just felt that I would do my utmost to have nothing to do women, with the exception of my mother.

That's why I was only able to have peace of mind when I was with men.

However, I realized that my feelings weren't just feelings of relief and friends.h.i.+p, becoming aware that the affection inside me was changing to romantic feelings regarding men.

Because I had been wearing women's clothes for as long as I could remember, I had no good feelings towards women, and right until now not once had I ever liked a woman.

To an extent, it was natural for me to only be able to fall in love with men.

As for that, the thought that “I'm unusual, aren't I?” quickly vanished.

It even felt like a natural thing for me.

…Even so, since I somehow or other understood that I was different from others I didn't tell anyone about it.

My first love was a junior high student that lived in the neighborhood.

At that time, I was eight and in my third year of elementary school.

One day I saw him accompanying a girl, and I had my heart broken without being able to say a thing.

One day I abruptly stopped being dressed up.

But I was still often being mistaken for a girl, which I hated.

Even when I wore men's clothing, even though my hair was short, they could only see a “boyish girl”.

Even though I'd say “Ore”, it was to the extent that I was told “It's no good for a girl to be saying “Ore”, ya know?”1

When I started the higher grades in elementary school, those around me were beginning to become interested in the opposite s.e.x, and talks about love or indecent things became frequent.

Things like “So and so from x cla.s.s is cute” and “A is going to confess to B”…

Things like “Hair's grown down there” and “Shave it off” …

However, usually I would deter conversations like that.

Since I looked like a girl, I hesitated to talk like that.

…Even if I was allowed to partic.i.p.ate, I only liked boys and was unable to talk about love.

When I was in junior high, my feminine features cut me off from others.

There was no reason for me to be happy hearing “You're prettier than a girl.”

People saying “I'd do it if it was with Aoyama” didn't make me happy.

“I bet he doesn't have one” they said and told me to take off my clothes, and my hand moved without thinking.

That was my first fight since I was born.

I'm sorry, but I won't by any means be a subst.i.tute for a woman.

—I knew that they were joking with what they were saying.

But, I wished that they wouldn't say they'd do it for that reason.

Though I like men, I'm not ready to come out to anybody.

However, a woman confessing doesn't stir a little bit of my heart.

“My boyfriend said that if you were a girl he'd totally go after you!” Even if you say that, I wonder what you want me to say to it?

Like that, they couldn't understand the reason why I was often jealous.

Since I'm not a woman, I realize that I shouldn't be like that.

“Are you an idiot? I'm a guy.”

I spoke those words countless times.

Many times I snorted in disgust.

—There was no reason for them to be jealous of me.

Because there's no way their boyfriends would fall in love with the “male” me.

They were definitely saying these things to make their girlfriends jealous. It was probably for foolish reasons that they uttered those words.

Please don't drag me into your lover's quarrel.

Because of those experiences, at some point I became something of a “cool character”.

Nothing would faze me, and I was a cold person.

And, I hated people coming near me to the point that I was a clean-freak.

It wasn't that I had no friends, but I couldn't nod if asked if we were close.

They didn't know anything about me, I only chatted with them.

But it was definitely better than difficult things being exposed.

Even in high school I was still a “cool character”.

I grew taller, and as one would expect being seen as a man more than a woman became more frequent, and at the same time women were confessing more often.

It seemed my feminine face was said to be the beautiful-type hot guy at school.

At that time, I was invited into the tennis club that was popular in the area, and it seemed that I was reasonably skilled.

Maybe because I was partic.i.p.ating in matches at other schools, around that time confessions from people from other schools increased.

…I have no interest in girls though.

There was no feeling of falling in love.

None of them were watching the real me.

They weren't seeing anything but the accessories, nothing but items that raised my value.2

I would say I had no time to hang out, and always turned people down.

In reality, I was busy with club activities, and individually practiced things that weren't club activities like running.

That excuse was the one that was the most convincing, anyway no one had anything to say about it.

…Sometimes they'd say it was a waste, though.

During senior high, I quit club activities.

After retiring, I said that I was busy studying for university.

It was an issue after I got into university.

I'd often get randomly invited to mixers.

Because the tennis circle was almost nothing but mixers and drinking parties and occasionally playing at doing some tennis, I quit immediately.

Like this I had no goal, and figured I'd be an office worker in the future…I only thought until that point.

As I gained free time, my encounters with women increased, so I looked for a part-time job.

However, I wasn't seriously intending to get a job, only appearing to search while not actually inquiring.

But I still was invited to drinking parties and called-out for mixers.

“I'm broke.”

“I'm job-searching.”

“I've still got a.s.signments.”

…………

I refused with nothing but excuses.

“It's fine if you just sit there.”

“I'll treat you.”

“I'll introduce you to a good job.”

Even so, there were countless people who wouldn't give up…

“You people, going ‘mixer mixer mixer', don't tell me that that's the only thing that you idiots can get out of your mouths! Is it that hard for you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds to use your brains!?”

I don't know how many times I started to say that.

It would be nice if I could take a guy who wanted to go, but what would I do if I go there without asking anyone out?

Why should I have to go somewhere where I have to continuously not acknowledge insincere smiles?

It's like almost everyday a voice calls out, I honestly felt fed up.

…That's why one day when I woke up and I thought that I had forgotten to set my alarm clock, or that it had broken, and I just knew that I was going to be late because it hadn't gone off, my motivation to go vanished.

I shut off my smartphone, and closed my eyes a second time.

…What was awaiting me after that, I don't recall even a little bit—

Translation Notes:

In case there's anyone out there who doesn't know this, “ore” is a masculine p.r.o.noun for “I” and considered vulgar for a girl to say.“Item” is written in English, and when said in j.a.panese it has the connotation of “something you have to have.”

Ok, so when I was updating this on NU, I noticed that someone else has already translated these chapters. I considered dropping the series, but after taking a look at the translations I think that they're different enough that I'm going to continue with mine anyway. I'm hesitant to criticize since I'm not at all what you'd call fluent in j.a.panese, but I'll post some sentences for comparison and let you guys decide where you want to read.

Original j.a.panese:

Other translator:

My hair was cut because my parents couldn't get glue out of it, and it couldn't be seen by woman unnecessarily.

My translation:

My parents also took things too far as a result and didn't let me cut my hair, and they became unable to see me as anything but a girl.

Original j.a.panese:

Other translator:

Growing taller, at the same time it has become more common to be called out by a man than a woman, I've been more and more confused for a woman. With my feminine face, it appears to have been said that there is a beautiful girl in school.

My translation:

I grew taller, and as one would expect being seen as a man more than a woman became more frequent, and at the same time women were confessing more often. It seemed my feminine face was said to be the beautiful-type hot guy at school.

These are some of the ones that stood out to me as very different. Let me know if I'm the one misunderstanding things

Oh, and on a side note, just in case anyone's confused by the different numbering, this extra is technically chapter seventeen since the author doesn't actually number the chapters (syosetsu does) and it comes after chapter sixteen, not before.

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