Vol 2 Chapter 32 – So, What Should We Play?

“So, Chihiro, how about you take the lead, wave the flag, and decide what we’re going to do? You’re the president, after all.”

She’s just going to say that directly, huh?

While thinking that, I sipped the tea Emma-san had poured for me.

The sushi-style teacup had “Newbie” written on it.

We were sitting in chairs, facing each other across two long desks pushed together.

It was the usual scene in the clubroom.

The only difference was that no one was holding an LCD drawing tablet for their doujinshi work.

“Hmm, you know, Hatsune. It’s true that the doujinshi convention is over and everyone has some free time right now, but…”

On her ceramic, sushi-style teacup were the characters for “Club President.”

Sipping tea from a cup I had no idea where one would even buy, Club President Takahashi replied.

“It was the same last month. I had enough free time to play card games with Kajiwara-kun. But you guys, every single one of you, are always rushing to meet your submission deadlines, aren’t you?”

Club President Takahashi calmly pointed out the reality of their doujinshi manuscript deadlines.

It was true.

The convention had just ended, so we’d all been enjoying card games and the like.

But the next convention was coming up soon.

They’re held every month, after all.

“That’s that, and this is this! Without nourishment for the soul, one cannot face the manuscript!!”

Thump.

Toudou-san slammed her fist on the long desk.

Her teacup rattled.

On it was written, “Flat-chested Beanpole.”

Isn’t that discriminatory language?

In this day and age, even saying someone is “able-bodied” is considered discriminatory.

It wouldn’t be surprising if she got canceled for that.

Seriously, where did she buy these things?

“It’s about youth… I want to experience youth (aoharu)!”

In response to Toudou-san’s blood-curdling scream, Club President Takahashi countered.

“Are you saying doujinshi isn’t youth? This culmination of our blood and sweat is our youth!!”

She gestured toward their past works, strongly asserting her point.

Where she spread her arms, the doujinshi produced by the Modern Culture Research Club over the past year were shelved in a bookcase.

Toudou-san stared at them with somewhat cloudy eyes.

“Nah, it all looks kind of lead-colored… It’s not a clear, vibrant blue…”

According to Toudou-san, it was lead-colored.

It’s true that the last doujinshi they put out, a shonen manga about anthropomorphized male cannons called Cannonball Unrivaled, was of a quality that even I, a guy, could recognize as superb. But, well.

Calling the creation of a doujinshi that bordered on erotica “youth” was a bit of a stretch.

It was a youth of leaden gray, if not just plain gray.

“Could it be that we were just so desperate that we insisted on calling lead blue?”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“You can’t kill a werewolf without a shining silver bullet. A dull lead one won’t do. By the same token, youth has to be blue.”

Toudou-san’s suddenly getting all poetic.

While being weirdly impressed, I sipped my tea again.

I looked to my side.

“Then shouldn’t you be the one to make a suggestion, Toudou? The one who brought it up should provide the plan.”

Segawa-san.

Our club’s head of PR and advertising.

The sushi-style teacup in her hand read, “Buxom Braids.”

Seriously, where did you buy that?

Actually, there’s no way this is something they sell in a store.

I stared at my own simple “Newbie” teacup and pondered my own attribute.

Something like “Useless Muscles,” maybe?

“Hey, if you tell me to give an opinion, I’ll give one. But I want to hear what the other members think, too.”

Toudou-san glanced over at Emma-san.

Emma-san hesitated for a moment before answering.

“…How about a TRPG? A Tabletop Role-Playing Game?”

She was the one with the egregious fetish of wanting to be kidnapped and held captive by mafia in black suits.

Emma-san, with her flowing blond hair, tilted her head, clutching a sushi-style teacup that just said, “You’re the Blonde.”

Why is hers the only one written in such a rough, bossy tone?

Who made these teacups?

They can’t be store-bought.

Someone—someone related to the club must have made them.

“Anyone have any experience? C’mon, raise your hand if you do.”

Silence.

The room fell completely quiet.

The second hand on the clock hanging in the Modern Culture Research Club’s room went tick-tock, announcing the cruel passage of time.

“Nobody?!”

Toudou-san yelled.

“Nope. You and I have been friends for a long time, Hatsune, but we never once said we wanted to play a TRPG.”

“What’s the fun in a two-person TRPG?”

“If you’d said you wanted to, I would’ve tried to gather people from outside. Even though we were the only two otaku at our school.”

Toudou-san rested her chin on the long desk and grumbled.

Yeah, that makes sense.

Personally, I was less concerned with youth and more curious about who had prepared these teacups.

“Well, maybe it would be fine for a bunch of beginners to try a TRPG?”

I offered my opinion, for what it was worth.

I actually did want to try it.

If the five of us in this clubroom played, I was sure it would be fun.

But.

“Rejected!”

Toudou-san declared sharply.

What could she possibly have against it?

“Actually, I’ve tried to play a TRPG by myself before! I gathered a party of imaginary players!”

It was a sad confession.

And a classic “that one thing every otaku has done.”

It was the kind of secondhand embarrassment that made you want to cover your ears, the kind that made you want to scream, “Ah’m so embarrassed, Ah could just die!”

“Hatsune, you should have at least asked me. Before you did something that sad.”

Club President Takahashi’s voice was gentle.

It was pity.

Yeah, well.

It was about as pathetic as playing The Game of Life alone with imaginary players.

You’d want your best friend to talk to you before you sustained that kind of psychological damage.

“No, see, I tried to learn the rules by myself before I asked you. I figured if it seemed manageable, I’d have you try and gather some people, Chihiro…”

Toudou-san groaned and stretched her arms out in front of her, like a cat.

Her face was slightly red, perhaps from embarrassment.

“And, from what I can tell, there are all kinds of TRPGs, you know? Everything from your standard sword-and-sorcery types to the ones where all you have to do is scream, ‘Yeeart!’ and ‘Gwaah!'”

So that series exists in this world, too.

I thought about a certain ninja series from my past life and contemplated the differences between that world and this one.

Besides the high female population ratio, there really aren’t that many differences.

“But even the TRPG where you just scream ‘Yeeart!’ and ‘Gwaah!’ has a lot to learn! It has a proper rulebook, and the Game Master has to memorize it. Of course, they have to think up a game scenario, too. We just don’t have that kind of free time.”

And the players have to at least remember the basic rules that are advantageous to them, she added.

Toudou-san was being objective, or rather, she was showing off the knowledge she’d gained through her humiliating experience.

Well, she’s got a point.

“So for those reasons, I’m against a TRPG. I object!”

Toudou-san spoke passionately.

It probably wasn’t just that she didn’t want to play because of the post-traumatic stress disorder from trying to play a TRPG alone.

Probably.

“Okay, does anyone have a concrete idea? Personally, I think we should just focus on our club activities.”

Club President Takahashi tilted her head and once again asked for suggestions.

Emma-san raised her hand.

“…A picnic?”

Is that really an otaku activity?

Not that I mind, though.

“Well, it might be nice to get outside once in a while. Maybe do some analog sketching instead of digital? I’d like to see what Kajiwara-kun’s art skills are like, too.”

Club President Takahashi immediately expanded on Emma-san’s idea.

She was fundamentally kind to the timid Emma-san.

She probably intended to adopt any suggestion as long as there wasn’t a major problem with it.

“Oh, I’m not against it. Sketching outside sounds nice.”

Segawa-san nodded.

She sipped her tea and looked at Toudou-san, as if to ask, Well? What do you think of this idea?

“Yeah, that’s good. The cherry blossom season is over, but it’s gotten pretty warm.”

It was the season of fresh green leaves.

Toudou-san, still draped lazily over the desk, agreed with Emma-san’s proposal.

She looked like a cat, poised to meow at any moment.

“So, what about you, Kajiwara-kun?”

Club President Takahashi asked me.

I had no objections.

And I didn’t have any other ideas to suggest.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll buy a sketchbook.”

I can just pick one up in front of the station.

For now, regardless of my拙いart skills, I should at least prepare myself to be laughed at by the other club members.

Well, I was confident that there wasn’t a single person in this club who would seriously insult me.

Of that much, I was sure.

“…By the way, who made these sushi-style teacups?”

Once the discussion had reached a conclusion, I asked the question that had been on my mind the whole time.

“My mother made them… in her pottery circle…”

Emma-san answered shyly.

I could only guess what kind of explanations she gave her mother about the club members at home.

Realizing this, I felt a sense of satisfaction and sipped my tea.

The trees visible outside the clubroom window were lush and green.