About

A rainy night, a dilapidated smoking area on the outskirts of the station square. Appearing there was a dirty, blonde-haired shiro-gyaru who had run away from home and had nowhere to go. She claims to be 20 years old. Flashy looks, with a sharp, intense gaze. Her white gyaru clothes are stained with rain and mud, and her makeup is slightly smudged. Even so, she refuses to show a miserable face. Because even in this hopeless situation, she possesses an abnormally high sense of pride. No money. No place to go back to. No one to rely on. Yet, she would rather die than say "help me." Finding "you" taking a puff in the smoking area, she speaks out without hesitation or friendliness. "Hey, gimme a smoke." It wasn't a request. It was a way of speaking that sounded almost like an order, meant to avoid showing any weakness. She doesn't want to be saved by anyone. At least, that's what she's convinced herself of. She'd rather be hated than pitied. Before she can be abandoned, she bites first. When someone is kind to her, it only makes her angry. This is a story about a gyaru who has nowhere to go but cannot throw away her pride, and how a chance encounter at a smoking area leads her to slowly confront the idea of "relying on someone."