Chapter 41: Pinnacle of Arrogance

I’ve lived an ordinary life, so I know next to nothing about curses or breaking them. But there’s one thing I’ve come to understand about dispelling curses.

“Alright, one more lap! Keep pushing!”

Breaking a curse apparently comes down to a battle of endurance and sheer willpower. Honestly, I don’t see the connection.

“This… this is getting really tough…”

“Huh? Are you saying I’m heavy? Should I call Papa? He’s a muscle gorilla and probably weighs 1.5 times more than me.”

“White is fine… No, I prefer White. It has to be White.”

“Fufu, good answer.”

This training is pure hell, isn’t it? Even if she’s a small girl, sprinting while carrying someone is brutal. What kind of training method is this? And doesn’t it bother her that I’m drenched in sweat?

Then again, I guess it’s too late to care. We’ve already gone through that suffocating sauna-like situation together.

“So… huff, huff… what’s next after this?”

“Next, you’ll be running while carrying me in your arms.”

What? There’s no way I can do that.

“Don’t worry. I’ll hold on tightly.”

That’s not the issue. It’s just that even now, with her on my back, her legs are gripping me like a chokehold. Seriously, this is like a body-scissor submission move. Do you realize that’s banned in judo? You know why? Because it’s dangerous, with risks of injury or worse.

“Come on, run faster! After this, it’ll be three laps with a princess carry.”

“I… I’m going to die.”

Is she trying to kill me? Even someone in a sports club would struggle with this. For someone like me, who’s in the “go home after school” club, this is insane.

And why is one lap so ridiculously long? This isn’t land a commoner should legally own.

But complaining won’t help. I’d run if I could, but I can already see her snapping if I try to escape.

“Alright, now carry me in your arms. Hurry up and hold me tightly.”

This is training, right? She’s not just making excuses to cling to me, is she?

Ah, so soft. It’s like a twisted mix of stick and carrot, a brief reprieve in a living hell.

Do we really need to run? Just holding this position is enough training. It’s hot, heavy, and just standing like this is already unbearable.

“Uh, could you stop nuzzling your cheek against me? It’s hard to run, and it feels gross with all the sweat.”

“Huh? I’m just making sure I don’t fall. Stop accusing me of weird things. This is serious training. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

Is that really true? Maybe if she’s just pressing her cheek against mine, it would make sense. But does she really need to rub it in? At this point, we’re practically exchanging sweat and skin oils.

“Now, run faster! Pat my head as you go; it’s part of the training.”

Does she think saying “it’s training” will justify anything? Well, I’ll do it anyway.

Turns out, if you’re desperate enough, you can do anything. Somehow, I managed to finish the entire ordeal.

I’m done. I probably can’t go to school… Maybe not for the next three days. I doubt I’ll be able to move properly.

By the way, White did the same thing. She even managed to carry me while running. She might actually be way more impressive than I thought.

“That was a good workout.”

Was it? If this had been a month later, we’d both be hospitalized with heatstroke.

By the way, what did you do before I came along? Who was your training partner? Did you carry your dad or mom? What is this, some kind of modern ubasuteyama?

“Alright, let’s take a quick shower, and then we’ll head out shopping.”

“By ‘shower,’ you mean…?”

“Don’t worry. It’s warm water, so it’ll feel nice.”

I wasn’t asking about the water temperature. I was asking if you’d let me shower alone. Never mind, no need to answer. Whatever you say, it’s pointless anyway.

Staying overnight at a classmate’s house, bathing together—these are supposed to be the hallmarks of a winner’s life. So why do I feel so hollow inside?

Kaede and the others are under the curse, so it’s understandable. But this girl shouldn’t be affected by it. Or… maybe that’s exactly why. For a high school boy teetering on the edge of hormones, not getting aroused by someone like her is… remarkable. Guys can get excited over someone plain, yet she’s actively dampening any interest. And with that face of hers?

“Hey, you’re not under the curse, right?”

“Huh? Does a dog trainer get bitten by their own dog? Of course not.”

What kind of analogy is that? I get what she’s trying to say, but isn’t it possible? Chefs accidentally cut their fingers, and doctors catch colds. Why wouldn’t a curse-breaker be susceptible to curses?

If it’s training that makes her immune, I could buy that. But all we’ve done so far are muscle-building exercises. This feels more like martial arts training than curse-breaking.

“Well, I mean, sharing a bed and bathing together isn’t exactly normal. Falling for me right after meeting—doesn’t that seem like curse behavior?”

“Who fell for who?”

Does she really think she can deny it now? If she doesn’t like me, that’s even scarier. If I were some rich heir and she were poor, it’d make sense, but the truth is the opposite. Well, my family isn’t exactly poor, but compared to hers, we’re dirt. Five million yen a year is respectable, but next to someone making over a hundred million, it’s nothing. The gap between us is enormous. If it’s not affection, what other reason could she have to be around me?

“You said yourself you’re not the type to fool around.”

Wait… didn’t she once brag about knowing men better than men themselves? Isn’t that contradictory? Sure, I know she lies a lot, but even liars usually stick to some sort of narrative, don’t they? Is she just winging it?

“I did say that. So what? That roundabout way of talking isn’t cool, you know? You’ve been reading too many manga and light novels. Honestly, it’s pathetic. There’s this game company called ‘Key,’ and you’re just like one of their protagonists. Just so you know, those kinds of characters don’t get girls in real life.”

The way she can just rattle off insults… Honestly, there’s this equation in my mind where verbosity equals curse. The longer she talks, the more uneasy I feel.

“I don’t know anything about light novels or this ‘Key,’ but if you’re not the type to fool around, doesn’t that mean it’s weird to share a bed or bathe with a guy you don’t like?”

“Huh? The weird one here is you.”

What? That’s a flawless argument!

Doing those things without liking the other person—that’s just pure lust, isn’t it? Sure, girls can have desires too, but even then, wouldn’t they be more selective? You even said it yourself, didn’t you? Something like, “I’m a face person, so someone like you is out of the question.”

“The fact that someone as beautiful as me would like you—that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. That’s your delusion number one. You know those women who complain about falling for terrible men or being stuck with abusive husbands? They’re almost always unattractive, right? Beautiful women don’t genuinely fall for terrible guys. Sure, they might like them temporarily, but by the time marriage is on the table, they’ve already discovered the flaws and left. Why? Because they’ve seen enough men to have options and don’t need to settle.”

I don’t completely disagree with her logic, but doesn’t she see how contradictory she’s being? If it’s possible for beautiful women to like terrible men temporarily, couldn’t she be in that same situation now? By her logic, the shorter the relationship, the higher the chance of such “accidents.”

“Okay, but if you don’t like me, why share a bath—”

“It’s a service to you, obviously. You said you can’t love any woman but me, so I’m sacrificing myself to keep you under control. If I didn’t, you’d probably end up assaulting random women in the streets. If my client gets arrested, that’s a problem for me too. I can’t exactly visit prison to break curses, you know.”

Where on earth would you find such a selfless woman? Not even Mother Teresa would do that.

She’s determined to frame this as if I’m the one with feelings. This isn’t a tsundere thing—it’s something else entirely. The word that comes to mind is yandere, but even that feels off.

“I appreciate the thought, but let’s take separate showers. This isn’t training.”

“Huh? Huuuh? Huuuuuuuuh?”

She’s repeating herself three times—that’s gotta be a foul. If this were Othello, I’d win even as the second player.

She never compromises, does she? Maybe there’s something to learn from that.

“No guy would pass up a chance like this. Not in this world, or even the next. Are you a woman or something? Now that I think about it, when we bathed together yesterday, you were weirdly insistent on covering yourself. Oh, so all that passionate flirting before—turns out you’re a woman, huh?”

She’s not just twisting words anymore—she’s tying them into knots. Even a child wouldn’t resort to such mental gymnastics.

Is it her parents’ fault for spoiling her? Or her lack of friends? Either way, she’s more selfish than any high schooler should be. If someone doesn’t set her straight soon, she’ll have a tough future. Even if she miraculously gets married, it’ll end in divorce. No way she’s raising kids. Not a chance.

“No, I’m a guy.”

“Then let’s shower. If you’re a man, there’s no reason to refuse. Or are you secretly into guys? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you for that…”

“Shut up, you idiot! I’m straight!”

“…hic.”

Oh no…