Free Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino Page A

tasteful, and they all had expensive brandname items that I’d never before actually seen up close. Their elegant sophistication overwhelmed the newly arrived students.
    The difference was not something that would softly fade away with the passage of time. There is no other way to explain it but to say that we new girls lacked what the others girls possessed seemingly by birth: beauty and affluence. We new girls were betrayed by our long skirts and our cropped, lusterless, jet-black hair. Many of us wore thick, unflattering glasses. In a word, the incoming students were uncool.
    No matter how a girl might excel in her studies or sports, there was nothing she could do to redeem herself once she was labeled uncool. For a student like myself, the question of being cool or uncool was irrelevant from the beginning. But there were others for whom the term provoked considerable anxiety. I’d say over half the students who entered the program as high school students found themselves teetering dangerously close to the border of being uncool. And so each and every one of them worked as hard as she could to avoid the label and tried to blend in with the continuing students.
    The matriculation ceremony began. We outsiders paid serious attention to all that was said. But in comparison, the students who had come up from the elementary levels only pretended to listen. They chewed gum, whispered among themselves, and acted as though they weren’t even remotely concerned with what was going on. Far from being serious, they behaved like frisky kittens, impossibly precious. And they never once so much as glanced in our direction.
    In contrast, the newcomers, watching the way the insiders behaved, felt all the more anxious. They began to think of the difficult life that stretched ahead of them. Faces froze and expressions grew darker and darker. Confused, they began to suspect that the rules they had followed up to the present were no longer valid. They would have to learn a whole new set.
    Perhaps you believe I am exaggerating. If so, then you are mistaken.
    For a girl, appearance can be a powerful form of oppression. No matter how intelligent a girl may be, no matter her many talents, these attributes are not easily discerned. Brains and talent will never stand up against a girl who is clearly physically attractive.
    I knew I was by far more intelligent than Yuriko, and it irked me no 4 6
    G R O T E S Q U E
    end that I could never impress anyone with my brains. Yuriko, who had nothing going for her but her hauntingly beautiful face, nevertheless made a terrific impression on everyone who came in contact with her.
    Thanks to Yuriko, I too had been blessed with a certain talent. My talent was the uncompromising ability to feel spite. And whereas my talent far exceeded those of others, it was a talent that impressed no one but myself. I fawned over my talent. I polished it diligently every day. And because I lived with my grandfather and had the opportunity to help him on occasion with his handyman jobs, I was decidedly unlike all the other students who commuted to high school from perfectly normal families.
    Precisely for this reason, I was able to enjoy myself as a spectator on the sidelines, even amid the cruelty of my high school classmates.
    • 2 •
    In the days following the matriculation ceremony, more and more girls began to show up at school in short skirts.
    Kazue was one of the first. But her shoes and her book bag were completely out of keeping with her skirt length and marked her as an outsider.
    The insider students, you see, did not carry the standard-issue student satchels. They came to school with fight nylon sacks slung over their shoulders, or else they carried those chic overnight bags that were still unusual at the time. Some carted along American-made day packs, while others toted heavy-looking Boston bags. Were they Louis Vuitton?
    Regardless, the girls who carried them looked every bit like college students en route to