Gimai Seikatsu

Saturday passed without anything major happening. The following Sunday marked my birthday, but as the world’s most average high school student, I wasn’t celebrated with singing birds or fanfare when I opened the front door. Instead, I attended the morning classes at my prep school like always. After the first lecture ended, we had a brief break.

I figured I might as well grab a coffee, so I headed to the break area with the vending machines. Down the hallway and taking a turn, I arrived at an area about one-third the size of a regular classroom, which had large tables that seated six, the size you’d see in a school cafeteria, plus several folding plastic chairs to sit on. After I bought a cup of coffee with milk and no sugar, I blew a few times on the steaming brownish liquid and looked for an open seat. That’s when I spotted a familiar girl—Fujinami Maho.

One seat was open in front of her. Our eyes met as she raised her head, and I sat down.

“Good morning.” She greeted me with a faint mumble.

“Morning. What’s up? Catch a cold?”

More than her height, the white mask she was wearing stood out most right now.

“I wouldn’t have come to attend classes if I had a cold. I’m just protecting myself. The air during these winter days is so dry, it makes it easier to catch colds and other infections.”

“Ah, makes sense.”

“Grandma always told me to wear a mask whenever it’s cold outside.”