You Girls Are Way Too Obsessed With A Lone Wolf Like Me - Volume 4 Chapter 1: Himemiya Haruichi is Challenged to a Duel

Volume 4 Chapter 1: Himemiya Haruichi is Challenged to a Duel

Late September. The kind of time where you’d like to say, “Ah yes, autumn is truly here,” but in reality, the chilly bite of the season hasn’t quite arrived yet.

Even so, there’s no denying—it’s coming. The evening sky, as seen from the private room after school, glows a deep crimson compared to the midsummer sun. “Akane-zora”… that reddish, almost nostalgic sky, feels like the right word for it.

Maybe it’s because most of the third-years have already retired from their clubs. The shouting of the sports teams from the grounds, the sound of the brass band echoing from the school building… it all feels a little quieter than before summer break. I wasn’t exactly sweating or suffering alongside them, but still… somewhere in my heart, a word of otsukaresama floats up.

『And next up, a letter from our listener, Harubocchi-san!』

“Oh.”

My voice escapes before I realize it, eyes lifting from my book as the radio personality reads it aloud.

Harubocchi—that’s me. Himemiya Haruichi. The message I submitted got picked.

Yeah, the name’s kind of obvious, huh? But hey—simple is best, right? Swapping out the “ichi” in Haruichi with “bocchi” was the key.

My message starts getting read on air.

『There’s someone I really want to confess my feelings to. She’s a super popular girl in my class──』

That small twinge of embarrassment isn’t because the personality starts teasing, like, “Oiii oiii~!” No—it’s because she, the girl I want to confess to, is sitting right across from me.

“This message… don’t tell me it’s from you, Himemiya-kun?”

Her name is Misaki Karin. Beloved not just by our class or our year, but by the whole school… no, even the neighbors around the school. The ultimate heroine. And yet, rather than just bask in love, she chooses to give love—blanketing everyone around her with her kind, philanthropic heart.

During the summer’s Koshien, she showed up as a support member for another school’s cheer squad. A sports TV program did a feature on “The Beautiful Girls Supporting Koshien,” and of course she made the cut. On Twitter, she shot up the trending ranks under “#KoshienBeauty,” setting the internet ablaze nearly as much as the games themselves.

She leapt past Kobe, past Kansai… she went full nationwide debut. She’s got that kind of aura.

So yeah, I find myself staring at Misaki. Her face, still as graceful as ever, wears that gentle smile that draws people in. As the personality keeps reading, more emotion—surprise, embarrassment—spreads across her expression. She’s starting to realize… that the girl I want to confess to is none other than her.

『She always tries to bring our class together, and even reaches out to someone like me, who prefers being alone. She’s kind, always aware of the expectations placed on her, and keeps trying to meet them. As a guy, I find that super cool… I even respect her. I know she’s probably pushing herself, but still, I just want to cheer her on with all my heart.』

“Himemiya-kun… Eheh…♪ That makes me really happy, but… it’s kinda embarrassing too.”

Even praise delivered indirectly, Misaki takes it in earnestly, her smile now tinged with shyness.

『And because she’s that kind of amazing person… I know it’s bold of me, but I want to tell her how I feel.』

“! Himemiya-kun… y-you mean your… feelings?”

『I’m going to gather up all my courage and confess to her. Hiiro-san, please give me some words of encouragement!』

“Go for it, kid!” the personality calls out, but after that, nothing else registers. My brain is totally filled with one thought:

I want to tell her. Now.

Misaki, clearly shaken, does her best just to meet my eyes.

But I can’t wait. No… I won’t wait.

My emotions are boiling over—I can’t hold them back anymore.

“Misaki. Will you hear me out?”

“Y-Yeah…!”

“I like being alone. So please, stop bothering me.”

“……”

Misaki: stunned.

Me: satisfied.

It’s not that I’m happy just because I told her how I feel. I tell her that all the time.

Now, back to the radio.

『To Harubocchi, the sweet and sour hero of youth, we’re sending a special gift set of our program’s original merchandise! Congrats, Harubocchi!』

I quietly pump my fist. “Yesss.”

Man, I only sent in that message ‘cause I wanted the merch, but I didn’t think it’d actually get read on air. Maybe I should start entering other stuff more regularly too…

And so, all’s well that ends well.

Now then… back to reading.

“…Hey, Himemiya-kun.”

“Mm? Yeah?”

“Can I just… ask again why you sent that message?”

“Wanted the merch.”

“…S…”

“S?”

“…Same old Harubocchi──────!!”

Expected that.

Misaki was in full-on pout mode, puffing out her cheeks and pursing her lips like it was a part-time job.

“I had a pretty good idea already, okay!? I mean, Himemiya-kun, you’re the kind of guy who just says what he wants to say to your face! But still! Even so! I still got, like, 1% nervous and mentally prepared myself, y’know!?”

Okay, okay, I admit I felt a little guilty. But I never once said I was gonna confess my love or anything, right? That was all just a misunderstanding between you and the radio personality.

Actually… isn’t the whole reason you ended up dragged into this mess because I, a self-proclaimed loner, happen to hang around with you?

“Give me back my nerves! Give me back my mental prep! Give me back my doki-doki!”

“Misaki.”

“Wh-What…?”

“My favorite band’s new song just started playing. So can you keep it down?”

“You are so infuriatinggggg!!”

…Great. Missed the intro.

And yet somehow, despite our totally mismatched vibes, we still get along. Kinda weird, huh?

Maybe I’m just too chill for my own good.

…Nah. It’s probably just that Misaki is ridiculously tolerant.

“’Scuse me~,” came a cheery voice as the door opened and Amami-sensei strolled into our beloved private room.

Misaki instantly launched herself at her like a missile.

“Ama-chan-sensei!! Harubocchi is bullying me! Using public radio waves!!”

Yeah. I should probably change my radio name.

“Harubocchi? Public radio waves?” Amami-sensei tilted her head like a confused puppy, but after Misaki explained the whole thing in dramatic detail, she nodded with a gentle smile.

“Well, well, well. Teasing the girl you like—classic move, age-old tradition. Isn’t that right, Himemiya-kun?”

“I think half-hearted sympathy hurts more than it helps.”

“And that just hurt me all over again!!”

“She’s being totally serious, okay!?”

Truly, the saying is right: the mouth is the root of all disasters.

Of course, a little verbal jab wasn’t gonna make either of them leave. Like actors returning to the stage, they just plopped back into their seats.

Amami-sensei clearly had no plans to leave anytime soon. She pulled out her trusty travel case—which doubled as a mini furooke—and started handing out snacks.

She offered us gaufres, those thin, round wafers sandwiched with cream that Kobe folks adore. Tokyo people call them “gaufurette” because of trademark reasons. It’s kind of like how people argue over “McDo” vs “Makku”… except somehow, no one’s fighting over this. Probably because deliciousness transcends names.

“Thanks,” I said, cracking my gaufre into four neat quarters. Not out of disrespect, it’s just how I eat ’em.

Misaki leaned over, curious. “That’s a pretty neat way to eat it.”

“I don’t like the crumbs getting everywhere.”

“Fair enough,” she nodded, mimicking my method—and then promptly traded one of her strawberry-flavored quarters for one of my vanilla ones without asking. Just like that. This girl is such a Jaian.

“Hey, Ama-chan-sensei, can we swap for your chocol—”

She froze.

Because Amami-sensei had already taken a huge bite out of hers with that tiny mouth of hers. Whether it was the fact that she’d started before her students or the crumb explosion on the desk, her cheeks flushed red.

Pfft. A snort escaped me before I could help it.

“Ah! Y-You just made fun of me, didn’t you!?”

“Nope. You just reminded me of my little sister. You two eat the same way.”

“Which means I’m childish, right!? I know your sister’s in elementary school!!”

Yeah yeah, sharp kids like you are the worst.

The tables turned. Now Misaki was the one soothing the sulking teacher with a “ma~ ma~ ma~,” offering her and me one more gaufre quarter each. Amami-sensei, now with three flavors in her mouth, began a luxurious binge.

The more she munched, the more her face melted into bliss. Then she took a big gulp of cinnamon-heavy cocoa to finish it all off, looking like she’d transcended this world entirely.

Was it the power of the sweets, or was Amami-sensei just that simple?

In her relaxed daze, Amami-sensei suddenly went “Ah!” and her eyes popped wide open. For a second, she remembered she was an adult. A teacher.

Barely a save.

She cleared her throat, exaggerated and theatrical.

“Well then! Shall we move on to the real reason I came?”

…The audacity of that line.

Amami-sensei only comes to the private room for two reasons.

First is to vent.

Like when her coworkers ID’d her at an izakaya.

Or when karaoke kicked her out after 10PM because of “youth protection laws.”

Or when she got scouted by someone and thought it was a pick-up line, only to find it was for a child actor debut.

Last week, she cried at a class reunion when everyone else said, “Everyone hasn’t changed much huh, specially Minamo.”

Ever since summer break ended, it’s been all complaints, all the time.

But today? This wasn’t one of those times.

With a completely serious face—still with some crumbs on her lips—she declared:

“You two are going to be the class representatives for the culture festival!”

“Huuh.”

“Culture festival!?”

That’s the second reason she visits: to ask for favors.

Basically, in exchange for letting me keep using this private room I love so much, I help her with the occasional student issue. It’s a win-win.

“I was so disappointed watching the last sports day!” she went on, clearly still fired up. “No team spirit, no cheering, no unity at all! Everyone just… wiped out before lunch! I thought I’d see some fierce, sweaty battles!!”

She’s starting to look more and more like a campaign candidate giving a speech at the station.

“At this rate, the culture festival will be a total flop! You hear me!? This is one of the biggest events of high school life!! I want your class to make some amazing memories together!!”

In this day and age, where more and more teachers keep their distance, Amami-sensei still sticks close to her students. Gotta respect that. Sure, she’s a little intense and full of clichés, but she’s got heart.

Still… annoying things are annoying.

In a world that demands diversity, you can’t just push “friendship, effort, and victory” on everyone. Some of us choose “solitude, apathy, and non-intervention,” and that’s valid too. Especially for us lone wolves.

I’ve never liked the idea of only celebrating the big events.

People who can’t enjoy the quiet, everyday stuff… probably can’t enjoy the flashy moments either.

There’s so much I want to do.

But I think the ones who truly deserve to bask in a big event… are those who are living their days so fully, they wouldn’t regret it even if they died tomorrow.

That super buff guy once said it best:

“You seriously still think you’re not gonna die someday?”

Anyone who can’t give their all to the present…

will never be able to do it in the future either.

I’ve always admired people like that—hard-boiled types who are scarily strict with themselves.

As I was lost in thought, I heard someone humming. Cheerful. Energetic.

I turned to the source and saw Misaki sparkling with excitement, practically bouncing where she stood.

…Yeah.

This girl definitely has the right to enjoy the culture festival to the fullest. Heck, she’s probably earned the right to laugh her heart out, too.

“Culture festival, huh~ I can’t wait♪”

“Knew it. You’d totally be into that kinda thing.”

“Of course I am! There’s plays, magic shows, all kinds of fun stuff! And tons of delicious food! Just helping with the prep already gets me pumped!”

Misaki’s tension was through the roof.

If she loves festivals that much, maybe she should just move to Rio and samba forever. Hope the locals get weirded out by her.

While I seek peaceful days, Misaki thrives on excitement.

Our values and worldviews really are different.

But I won’t deny it.

Just because the path to getting a fulfilling life is different… doesn’t mean the end result is.

We’ve only known each other for about six months, but I get it—Misaki’s got her own beliefs, her own identity.

As long as she doesn’t deny the way I live my life, I’ll respect her take on things as just another way of thinking.

…If she does deny it, though, I’ll completely annihilate her argument until there’s nothing left but ash.

Still staring straight at me, Misaki clenched both fists in front of her chest in a little guts pose.

“Let’s do our best to make the culture festival fun for everyone, okay!”

“No.”

““……””

A love-all pacifist and a tiny teacher who’s already giving me a headache.

This could easily be misunderstood, so I’ll nip it in the bud.

“It’s just… I want to say that I’m not the right person for this job.”

The culture festival is one of the biggest events of high school life. And yeah, I actually agree with Amami-sensei on that.

Which is exactly why.

Putting such a massive event in the hands of someone like me—who swears by the church of solitude—is way off the mark. Especially if it comes with the bonus objective of “making unforgettable memories with the whole class.” No thanks.

“Being on the culture festival committee requires charisma and leadership skills. Meanwhile, I’m just over here getting excited about how I’ll spend the actual day by myself. I’m completely useless for this.”

“That’s… a problem that comes before charisma or leadership…”

Exactly, Misaki-san. It’s a fundamental issue. That’s why this just isn’t for me.

Man, I’m way too positive for someone who keeps rejecting everything.

“Well then, in that case, Sensei isn’t worried about you at all.”

“…Hah?”

“In fact, I even think you’re the perfect person for the job, Himemiya-kun♪”

Perfect? Me?

That’s like making the forward play goalie… no, it’s like assigning the coach to be the linesman. I’m that unqualified.

Pekaa~!

With an angelic, beaming smile, Amami-sensei blazes right past my mental freeze.

“It’s true that Himemiya-kun may lack the leadership or charisma to lead others. However, you speak your mind without hesitation, and you can accept others’ opinions with an open mind. That, to me, means you have more than enough ability to bring the class together. I truly believe that.”

“Speaks his mind without hesitation” = selfish, can’t read the room

“Accepts others’ opinions” = doesn’t care, indifferent to people

Man… the way people phrase things really changes the flavor.

Misaki joins in, like she’s echoing Amami-sensei’s belief.

“I think so too. Himemiya-kun may not act on his own often, but every time he does, we end up being saved.”

“Can you not describe me like I’m some kind of heroic NEET?”

“I am complimenting you, so just accept it already.”

Seeing Misaki’s warm, gentle smile… yeah, I can tell. She’s being honest.

“Himemiya-kun, you always sell yourself short. I wish you’d believe in yourself a little more. I really think the people around you rely on you more than you realize. I definitely do.”

“…You’re not getting anything out of flattery.”

“I already get tons from you on a daily basis, so I’m good~”

Misaki sticks her tongue out playfully.

I feel this intense urge to flick her forehead, but when she compliments me so smoothly like that, it really messes with my rhythm.

And just like that… I actually start to think maybe I should have a little more confidence. Maybe it’s okay to be honest with myself once in a while.

I set the book I was reading down, stop leaning on my elbow, and straighten my posture.

Misaki and Amami-sensei do the same in response.

“Misaki. Amami-sensei.”

“Yeah~♪” “Yes!”

“I don’t wanna do the culture festival committee. It’s a pain in the sae.”

““You idiot!!””

BAM!

My mouth gets stuffed with a gaufre. Pretty sure that means, “You shut up now.”

This is what happens when you’re honest with your desires.

Their stares burn. Their scolding is loud.

“Besides, you need to work on your communication skills. So the answer is no, Sensei won’t let you decline! The committee is part of your education!”

“I told you to be more confident, but that doesn’t mean say whatever you want! And don’t think I didn’t see right through that little act of yours…”

With my mouth full, I can’t even scoff at them.

And if Misaki anticipated my counterattack… I guess her “I saw through it” comment isn’t exactly wrong either.

Hmph… Misaki’s grown up a bit, huh.

Even now, the two of them are quietly watching me like, “You’ll do the committee, right?”

Their gazes are intense. They’re getting closer, even. It’s hot. I wanna melt and disappear.

But running away won’t solve anything.

I wash down the gaufre with coffee, then nod once.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

In an instant, Misaki and Amami-sensei go from silent to—

““Yay~♪””

—and high-five like they just beat the final boss.

Other people’s suffering is the best spice?

Tastes like victory, huh?

You two better pray karma doesn’t get you.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if it’s something I’m not suited for or if it’s a pain—if I’m told to do it, I’ll do it.

I mean, there’s a private room privilege on the line here.

If it’s a choice between going straight home and having my little sister cling to me in ultra-maximum-annoying mode, or taking on a dirty job, acting like a hitman, or purging party animals from the festival…

I’ll take the job.

My sister will never understand the pain of being greeted at the front door with:

“Welcome back, Haru-nii! Wanna play Mario Party? Puyo Puyo? Or maybe… Splaaaatoon?”

I looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Dragon Quest. Story Mode.”

Anyway—

Putting my sister aside, I’ve accepted Amami-sensei’s request.

And I just finished reading my book, too.

It’s a youth mystery trilogy, and now I’m dying to read the sequel.

Reading’s all about mood and momentum. It’s practically a living thing, and yeah, I’d say it has an expiration date.

It won’t spoil like food, but the longer you wait, the more the magic fades.

Forget the characters, and you can’t get emotionally invested. Forget the foreshadowing, and you’ll have no clue why you were even reading it.

Strike while the iron’s hot.

Read while the feels are fresh. —by a loner

I stand up with the first volume in hand, and Misaki calls out.

“Heading to the library?”

“Yeah.”

“Then take some snacks to Erena-chan while you’re at it.”

“…Sure.”

Something’s wrong.

My passion for reading has frozen over.

The gaufres Misaki handed me are starting to look like red notices.

Not because I got turned into her errand boy, no.

It’s because I just found out which girl is in the library.

Misaki sees right through me, frowning a little.

“Wait… seriously? You still haven’t made up yet? September’s almost over.”

“I told you. We didn’t fight.”

“Then why are things so awkward between you two?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll ask again—is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.”

“Then please just fix it already so I won’t have to worry. And stop making that tragic, faraway face…”

But alas, the goal still feels so far out of reach.

How many times have I had this exact conversation with Misaki now?

Yup—another template scene. Misaki, resting her chin on the long table, grumbles, “I just wanna chat and have fun like we always dooo…”

Even Amami-sensei, who’s been going in and out of the private room multiple times, seems to have picked up on the situation.

Maybe too much.

Because every time this topic comes up, she gives this smile—not a gentle one, but that teasing smirking grin.

“Ahh, youth sure is wonderful♪”

“I could never beat you in that category, sensei.”

“Wha—! H-Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a proper adult!”

Cue: MUUUKII!! Amami-sensei flaring up indignantly. Makes me realize, yeah… probably shouldn’t have teased her like that. Bit immature of me.

When we finally arrive at the library, I peek through the door’s small window and spot her.

Her name—Hatori Erena. That subculture girl… or rather, that accidental confession girl, who ended up spilling her feelings to me on the night of that summer camp.

She’s sitting behind the reception counter, reading. With those black, thick-rimmed glasses, she gives off this intellectual vibe. As she turns the page, she casually tucks a strand of her silky long hair behind her ear, only adding to her air of mature elegance.

Hard to believe this is the same girl who’d slip up like that…

I open the door. Hatori notices a guest and lifts her head—then freezes the moment she sees me.

So much for the mature girl act.

“Hi-Himemiya!?”

GATAGATAGATA!! She shoots up from her seat like a startled animal. What am I, a cockroach?

Terraformer Himemiya strikes! I quickly point to the wall notice, guiding her gaze.

『Please maintain silence inside the room.』

Realizing her volume, Hatori glances around with a panicked hah! expression.

Luckily, we’re the only ones here.

“~~~~~! S-Sorry…”

After awkwardly apologizing, Hatori returns to her seat.

She doesn’t resume reading. She doesn’t look at me. Just keeps mumbling silently like she’s chewing on 100 lemons’ worth of Vitamin C, her mouth and cheeks twitching nonstop. And the more she tries to shrink herself into composure, the more her oversized bust presses uncomfortably against her sweater, nearly bursting from the tension.

It’s like trying to approach a wary stray cat—slowly, gently, assuring her I mean no harm.

I walk up to her, step by step.

Standing in front of her, I speak.

“How is it? Still not used to it?”

“…Yeah.”

Just like I have this routine with Misaki, I’ve developed a whole other template with Hatori too.

It all started the afternoon of the first day back from summer break.

“Himemiya!”

I was walking the corridor toward the private room, just like always, when Hatori called out from behind me.

She kept a bit of distance between us as she raised her voice—

“That confession at camp—just pretend it never happened!”

“Pretend…?”

“Yeah… and, um…”

“…And?”

“Until I can sort out my feelings, I’m gonna… refrain from talking to you, okay? I-I mean, I can’t even look you in the eye right now, it’s just way too embarrassing…”

“O-Okay…” I nodded once, and then—

“B-But! I’ll still text you on LINE like usual! No—I want to! It’s not that I don’t like you now or anything, it’s because I do think about you that I—uhh…!!?”

Like some déjà vu moment straight out of that camp night, Hatori spirals into panic.

Trying to correct herself, she ends up locking eyes with me—and boom, instant combustion. Face bright red, she lets out a soundless gasp, covers her face with both hands… and in doing so, squishes her already-ample chest even more with her arms. Gyuuuuuuu!

“~~~~~! A-Anyway, that’s how it is, so thanks for understanding!”

…

Watching her flee at full sprint like a startled cat burglar, I can’t help but think:

Man… she’s such a handful.

Since then, true to her word, our exchanges have been limited to basic greetings. We hardly talk in class or the cafeteria, and we haven’t crossed paths even once in the private room.

Instead of chatting about subculture stuff face-to-face, she now sends me walls of text on LINE—opinions on her favorite artists, game streams, variety show specials… It’s honestly kinda scary.

And now here we are.

No clue when she’ll finally “sort out her feelings.” We can’t even have a proper conversation yet. Heck, we can’t even make eye contact. Makes me wonder if this whole situation’s already run aground.

The best I can do is just act like usual.

“I left the return process with you. Also, from Amami-sensei.”

I hand her the book and the pack of Gaufres.

“Y-Yeah. Thanks…” She accepts it like I just gave her a sacred treasure or something. You don’t gotta act like I gave you a present. One’s a loan, the other’s a hand-me-down.

While she’s processing that, I go to pick out my next read.

“Th-This book! …Right?”

She suddenly stops me, holding up a book like a shield to block my view.

I look at it.

Whoa. That’s the exact sequel to the youth mystery series I was just about to find.

I’ve always had a transparent face, but this time even I feel how obvious my reaction is. Like the title’s literally projected onto my forehead. I’m tempted to check a mirror just in case.

Obviously not true… right?

“I saw on your library card history that you checked out the first volume…”

Ah. That explains it. The terrifying power of the information age.

Hatori starts her defense.

“Sorry for peeking. I was sorting the cards and it just kinda caught my eye… N-No, wait… maybe part of me wanted to see if it was there. I’m really sorry.”

I want to tell her, Look me in the eyes when you apologize, but honestly… that’s a tall order for the current Hatori.

…Or so I thought.

“I was just gonna look, really. B-But—!”

“Uwah—!”

Suddenly—BAM! She leans forward across the counter, invading my personal space. All that time avoiding eye contact, and now she’s got me locked in like a laser.

Oh no… she’s flipped the switch…

“A-Ah! I love that series! And just knowing you’re reading it too made me super happy! The library only has the hardcovers, and I know you prefer softcovers, right? So I thought, Hey, I have the softcover versions, maybe I should lend them to him! And mine are the revised editions, so the writing’s even more polished, and the author’s afterword has this amazing message they—”

Ahh yes. The machine-gun talk I’ve missed.

I thought about escaping. But that’s impossible. All I can really do now is grit my teeth and face reality.

I steel myself and stop her rapid-fire speech.

“Hatori.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“I’d be happy to borrow them. So…”

“…So?”

“For now, take a breath.”

“Eh? ……Ah.”

Like flipping a switch, her beaming smile vanishes. Welcome back, Hatori.

She suddenly realizes—just one more step and our faces would’ve been touching. Her chest just shy of pressing into mine.

Realizing all that, she panics again. This time, like I’m some kind of monster.

“~~~~~! W-Well then! It’s almost closing time anyway! I-I’ll go grab the key from the staff room!”

“…Yeah.”

Once Hatori dashes off at full throttle, the library returns to the peaceful quiet it’s supposed to have.

Left alone, I think to myself…

Was borrowing books always this exhausting…? I wondered.

I leaned my tired hips against the counter to take a short break, flipping lazily through the book Hatori had lent me.

“Hmm?”

Tucked between the pages was a small memo.

No sender listed. But I instantly recognized the familiar, rounded handwriting—it had that charming awkwardness to it. Yeah, no doubt. A message from Hatori, meant for me.

“I think… just a little longer, and I’ll be able to talk to you like a normal person.”

“…Don’t give me that crap.”

Oh, Hatori… after what you did just one minute ago? You’ve got zero credibility right now.

And me—struggling this hard with just one classmate—being on the culture festival committee, trying to unite the whole class?

I’d rather tie myself up with plastic string and yeet myself into the burnable trash pile.

※ ※ ※

“Yeah. No matter when I look, they’re just… beautiful.”

If there’s ever a perfect time to use the phrase “falling in love all over again,” this might be it.

In front of the front door.

Having just finished caring for my new leather shoes—my newest trusty partner—I can’t help but gaze over them, slowly, from the tips of the toes to the heels, taking in every detail.

The leather, well cared for over time, had matured from a dull brown into a rich, honey-like amber. Even the creases from wear looked beautiful—proof of how much love their previous owner had poured into them.

Thank you, Master. I’ll wear them with pride.

It was right at the tail end of summer break. I’d been working a short stint at Café WELL, and as a parting gift, the Master gave me one of his treasured collection pieces: a pair of postman shoes.

He’d always shared with me the deep world of leather shoes—their hidden depths, the sheer fun of them. So when I actually got to own a real, serious pair? Man, was I over the moon.

Back then, I was strictly a “white sneakers only” kind of guy. But now? Totally hooked on leather shoes. My whole mindset had shifted—shoes weren’t just things you wear. They were things you raise. Nurture.

Honestly, they’re just as versatile—if not more—than sneakers.

I pulled out the shoe trees and slid my feet in. They were a little roomy at first, but with thicker insoles and the laces pulled tight, they fit like a dream.

I closed my eyes and nodded, slowly, soaking in the feeling. Emotions swelling up.

Whether you admire them… care for them… or wear them…

Leather shoes are freaking god-tier…

“Haru-nii~! If we don’t go soon, we’ll be late for school!”

“No problem. I’ve already factored in the necessary buffer time.”

“Factored??” my little sister tilted her head, totally clueless. Not that I expected her to understand the beauty of leather shoes.

She’d be fine wearing those sneakers with rollers on the heels or whatever.

The one intruding on my perfect moment of bliss was none other than my little sister, Yuzu. Just like me, she was heading to school—rocking that classic elementary school look, complete with a bright red randoseru backpack.

“Haru-nii! What does factored mean?”

“Go google it. ggrks.”

“Okay~!”

Her enthusiastic triple banzai made me feel just a tiny bit guilty. But I decided not to think too hard about it.

“You sure have a big Voldemort, Haru-nii!”

“…It’s ‘vocabulary.’ Vocabulary, Yuzu.”

Don’t go turning me into a dark lord, geez.

I grabbed the hat hanging by the door and popped it onto Yuzu’s head. “Thanks~!” she chirped, full of energy.

And just when I thought she’d finally head out…

Yank yank.

“Hey hey, Haru-nii!”

“What is it now?”

“When we get home, let’s unlock Doctor Mario together, okay!?”

“I’m off.”

“Don’t ‘I’m off’ me!”

She clung to my upper arm like she was trying to tackle me. Why do kids always go for the upper arms? Should I just drag her all the way to high school like this?

Lately, Yuzu’s been obsessed with Smash Bros. She keeps bugging me to help her unlock all the hidden characters. But seriously, this new version? There’s a ton of them. Unlocking them all is a real grind.

Just the other day, she forced me to play late into the night. When she started dozing off beside me, I almost flicked her forehead. And when she laid her head in my lap and whispered, “Tell me when they’re all unlocked, ‘kay?”—yeah, I flicked her.

Doctor Mario? Just how deep in the unlock list do you think that old man is!?

“Your main is regular Mario, right? You don’t need to cheat on him with the doctor.”

“Do too! The white coat’s way cooler!”

“You’re seriously making me game for hours just for a wardrobe change!?”

“Yup♪”

That smile—so honest, so pure… it suits the word utter bastard all too well.

Wasting my precious free time just so she can swap overalls for a lab coat? I hate it here. I had plans today—to study leather shoe maintenance through some pro shoemaker videos, thank you very much.

Final decision:

“Forgive me, Yuzu. Another time.”

I pried her off my upper arm with an iron claw and set off toward high school.

But after just a few steps outside, I felt the weight again. That same evil tumor—formerly latched to my arm—had metastasized to my leg.

Yuzueeeee…

“Play with me play with me play with me!! I’m sick of plumbers!! I want the doctor!!”

I hope some city waterworks dude turns that Mario into a faucet and seals his fate.

“Listen, Yuzu. Life’s fun because it doesn’t go your way.”

“Then you should give up and play with me!”

“Don’t spout nonsense.”

“Then life isn’t fun after all!?”

…A life ruled by others isn’t worth living.

As we continued the back-and-forth of “Leave me alone!” and “I won’t leave!” while walking, passing neighbors would say things like, “Ara ara~!” or “Yuzu-chan really loves her big brother, huh?” They’d smile warmly at us, but for me, it was absolutely unbearable.

“Yuzu, don’t embarrass me in front of everyone any more.”

“Nooo!”

Don’t say things like that, it’s irritating.

“Haru-nii doesn’t understand a maiden’s heart!”

“Huh?”

“Even Yuzu wants to keep Haru-nii all to herself! It’s not fair that you’re always with Karin-nee and Erena-nee!”

It seems like she wants to say that the game is just an excuse for me to play with her, but when I’m asked to play doctor repeatedly, there’s no credibility left.

If I keep playing along with this farce, I’m really going to be late. The basic fact is, there’s no way I’d understand a maiden’s heart, not when I can’t even understand people’s feelings.

“I’m the only one who can monopolize me,” I said as I grabbed the collar of Yuzu’s shirt and tried to pull her away.

“I even know that Haru-nii plays games with his phone.”

“Huh?”

“I know! Because I see your phone! I know when Arisu-oneechan sends you LINE messages! ‘Let’s hang out on a convenient day,’ she always invites you! I know she’s white-skinned with big breasts!”

Such a wildly misunderstanding statement made my hand, which was holding her collar, freeze.

As expected, the nearby neighbors started whispering, “Is she your lover?” and “Your brother is at that age when he’d want to play around, huh?” They smiled at me, but I felt completely embarrassed.

“Hey, Yuzu—”

“I know that Ruri-oneechan invited you to hang out, saying, ‘Come to the store, I’ll give you plenty of service!’ with a heart emoji, and a picture of her cute uniform too!”

“Stop spreading weird rumors, okay?—”

“I know that Yumeno-oneechan invited you too! ‘When will you play with the little ones?’ ‘It’s fine if you just drop by and play,’ she said! I know you’re having fun in places Yuzu doesn’t know!”

The neighbors’ whispers were getting hotter and hotter. “Is he a regular at that shop?” “An affair? A hidden child?” “If I were younger, I’d…”

Having a lover, being a regular at some shady shop, and having an affair with a married woman with children.

I’m such a scumbag…

With Yuzu still whining, I sighed. I felt like my soul was about to leave my body.

“I get it…” I muttered helplessly, and Yuzu immediately stopped talking. She looked at me with eager eyes, as if waiting for my next words.

“I’ll come home a little early today.”

“Really!? Yay♪”

Yuzu, who had landed on the ground from my thigh, started to dance around in excitement, having successfully cornered me into the promise.

In the end, she grabbed both my hands and shook them wildly, trying to share her joy.

“It’s a promise, right? After school, let’s play games together!”

“I’m not playing any games.”

“…Huh?” Yuzu tilted her head, looking at me in confusion.

“Then what will we do?”

“You’re getting a long lecture.”

“……………!!!??! Why!?”

It’s the punishment for turning my personal slogan into a love hotel.

Yuzu, who had been clinging to me just moments ago, tried to run away with a scream, “Hyaaa~~!”

But I wasn’t going to let her go. I firmly held her hands and dragged her along the school route, together. Or rather, I was dragging her.

Life’s interesting because things don’t go the way you want. But, it still pisses me off.

※ ※ ※

Later, during the school assembly:

Every Wednesday is the school-wide assembly. When all the students are packed into the gym, you can still feel the humidity, even though it’s fall.

Urogase, sitting next to me, laughed at the story I told about my sister.

“Hahaha! Your little sister’s so funny!”

“I don’t think she’s funny at all.”

“Well, duh,” Urogase wiped the tears that had formed at the corner of her eyes, still not losing her smile.

It seems like she has a part-time job at a daycare today, so her nails and makeup were more restrained. Right now, she’s got that modest look, and it’s likely more appealing to guys, but for someone like Urogase, who sticks to her own style, it must not matter much.

Even though she’s mistaken for being my wife and mother of a child, Urogase is surprisingly carefree about it.

Urogase wasn’t paying attention to the principal’s amusing story and continued talking to me.

“Must be nice. I wish I had a little sister or brother like Yuzu-chan.”

“You don’t have any siblings?”

“I’ve got one older brother.”

“The one in his third year of college?”

When I saw the exaggerated shrug of her shoulders, I understood just how estranged Urogase must be from her brother.

“My older brother has no tact at all. He’s really annoying. I don’t know if he’s got a girlfriend or not, but he always asks, ‘Have you got a boyfriend yet?’ Even when I don’t ask, he talks about how in love he is and shows off pictures of his girlfriend. Who cares about my family’s love life…!”

The tsundere little sister, recently neglecting her older brother, is dangerously close to losing her temper, but instead of a cute punchline, she exudes an unmistakable intent to kill.

Lucky for you, Urogase. If your fist had been clenched with longer nails, you’d be drenched in blood by now.

They say even dogs won’t eat a married couple’s arguments, but when it comes to family love affairs, it’s like high school girls chatting about their relationships at family restaurants or karaoke — it’s as awkward as bad food.

Well, even I, in my adolescent years, sometimes think family interactions are a hassle, so I can imagine how much more that feeling must be amplified for a gal like Urogase, who’s at that age.

She probably says stuff like, “Don’t make me wash my dad’s and brother’s underwear too,” or something.

“Maybe I’ll take you home and brag to my brother about you being my boyfriend. …Just kidding, so stop looking so sad, alright?”

“There are good lies and bad lies in this world, you know?”

“That was definitely a good lie!”

Rather than painful, it felt more like an annoying ticklish drill attacking my side, digging in deep.

Lucky for me, Urogase’s chop—if her nails had been any longer, it would have pierced right through.

“But seriously, I wish my brother would swap places with Yuzu-chan.”

“That’s a no-go.”

At my immediate response, Urogase’s cat-like eyes blinked rapidly, then she smirked.

“Heh~. So, you really are a big brother, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because, that’s what it is, right? You’d be lonely without Yuzu-chan, wouldn’t you?”

“Not at all.”

“Huh?”

“If she were my sister, I’d give her to you for free. It’s just that your brother is unnecessary.”

“…I haven’t felt sorry for my brother in a long time…”

If you still have feelings of pity for him, then just leave him at home. At this rate, your brother is about to start his “living in the park” arc.

It’s nonsense to even think of suggesting such a relationship approach to someone like me, who enjoys being alone.

“Next, we’ll be announcing details about the culture festival. President, please.”

Seems like the principal’s talk is finally over. The vice-president of the student council takes over the announcements, and a male student starts walking towards the podium, responding with a lazy, “Okay, okay.”

As usual, he carries a unique aura. His messy, curly hair is always a bit frizzy, his posture so slouched that his tall stature isn’t even noticeable, with his cardigan completely open and the hem of his shirt hanging out at both the front and back.

It’s about as sloppy as it can get. But somehow, there’s a certain flavor to it, maybe due to the nonchalant attitude, or perhaps it’s the kind of face that just looks harmless and nice.

“Yasshi!” “Yasshi-san!” “You’re messing up your hair again!”

The popularity between the principal and Yasshi is worlds apart. Yasshi, the student council president, waves back with a small hand and responds to the crowd, completely revealing his Kansai roots.

“Pres Yasshi—-!! Did you see, Himemiya!? He waved at me! Does he like me!? Do I have a chance!?”

Behind me, Kurashiki, the wannabe trendsetter, is loud and excited.

The fact that he’s even getting “salvaged” by the ‘Ikemen Explorer’ Kurashikii, is probably one of the reasons why he’s so popular.

Urogase and Kurashiki are in the midst of a “JK talk” (talking about high school girls).

“I think the president is cool, but I’m more into a saucy face than a salty face, so he’s not my type. I think his sloppy appearance is kind of a turn-off, don’t you?”

“I don’t care what type he is. As long as he’s cool, I don’t mind his appearance at all! Yumeno, you’re being too picky!”

“You should be even pickier…”

You guys should be listening to the president’s speech.

After calming the crowd, the president turns on the microphone.

“Alright, alright. In just a month, the second-semester event, the cultural festival, will be upon us. For the third-years, it’s a perfect way to take a break from studying for the exams. First-years, I hope you enjoy your first cultural festival to the fullest! As for the second-years… hmm… well, do your best! Middle management is always tough!”

The second-year gallery cheers, “Just make sure you make up your mind about what you’re saying!” A burst of laughter erupts in the gym.

The president’s ability to use the crowd for laughs is so smooth, it feels like a talk show host leading the show.

It’s hard to tell if the president is being natural or calculating, but their ability to capture the audience’s attention in a heartbeat is impressive. I always think the principal should learn from that.

Even though he’s different from Misaki in type, I realize again that the president is the type of person who is loved by many.

Continuing the speech, the president announces with pride:

“Every year, it’s a tradition! Otozuka High’s famous ‘Oto-kore’ will be held again this year!”

“OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The loudest cheers of the day erupt from the crowd of guys, nearly shaking the gym with their excitement.

However, there are a few first-years who are confused, wondering, “What is this about?” I’m one of them.

The president, as if reading their minds, volunteers to explain.

“Oto-kore is a traditional stage event at Otozuka High, combining a fashion show and a beauty contest, much like the Kobe Collection.”

The Kobe Collection is a large-scale fashion event held in Kobe, featuring models, actresses, singers, and other entertainers aimed at a teenage audience.

The fact that the president didn’t use the phrase “Tokyo Collection” hints that they might be from Kobe.

“By the way, the only person to win Oto-kore three times in a row is the senior, Koino Kimika-san. She was so beautiful…”

As the president looks nostalgically out the window, some of the third-years nod in agreement, remembering her fondly. Some even sniffle or hold their foreheads.

Hearing the familiar name, I briefly think, “Wait, didn’t Koino-san pass away?” but that can’t be true. I saw her just a few days ago working as a signboard girl at a cafe.

Koino-san was so popular that a fan club was formed for her. It’s no wonder she even caused a social phenomenon known as “Koino-loss” among the third-years. It’s a bit much to handle.

“I was also in Koino-san’s fan club and went to the meetings a lot. The day I shook her hand, I didn’t even care about going to the bathroom!”

I can’t believe the president was a member, too…

“For the graduation ceremony, I went to get the button from Koino-san’s blazer, but of course, there were none left. I was so nervous that I even asked for the second button of her blouse…”

“President, you’re getting off-topic.”

The vice president, Miyashi-san, who is always known for being cool and composed, interrupts the president’s story with an air of disinterest.

Despite being cut off, the president pouts but eventually gives up after being met with a look from the vice president that clearly says, “Seriously, cut it out. You’re being creepy.”

“Anyway! Let’s all get excited for the fun cultural festival!”

As the president turns the microphone toward the stage, the guys cheer loudly, “President! President! President!”

The girls also seem to be getting caught up in the excitement.

Looking around my class, I see that everyone’s getting into it, and I can’t help but think, “Maybe the class will come together without me having to do anything for the cultural festival?”

   * * *

My faint hopes quickly shatter.

Back in the classroom, while I’m rummaging through my locker for textbooks and notebooks,

“Ughhh… Shuntarou’s not here? That’s so disappointing…”

One of the “riajuu” groups’ member in the corner of the classroom grumbles loudly.

The voice belongs to our class queen, the absolute ruler of 1-B, Endou Hina.

Her hair, neatly curled since this morning, shines brightly, and since the summer break, her hair color has become even lighter. By the time she’s in third year, she might be sporting platinum-colored hair, having mastered the art of water blue and pink, just like the most selfish of trends. I can’t wait to see it.

Standing next to her, apologizing with his hands together, is her partner and the class king, Namikawa Shuntarou.

His apology is so sincere, it almost looks like a scene from a painting. Even if he punched someone in the stomach, his cheerful smile would somehow make it feel like he could get away with it.

“Every year, the tennis club sets up a mock booth at the festival. First-years have to help with the shopping and selling, so we don’t have much free time on the day.”

“Leave that. Let’s go around the cultural festival together!”

“When my senpai and friends are working hard, I can’t just goof off.”

To summarize, it seems that Endou, who loves Namikawa, invited him on a date to the festival, but he turned her down because he’s too busy.

“See?” Namikawa tries to explain, but Endou pouts, blowing up her cheeks, clearly upset. Her sweet perfume may have become less noticeable compared to before, but the intimidating aura she gives off makes her hard to approach.

Without a care for that, the carefree member of the “riajuu” group, Ikari, with a grin on his face, approaches Endou to chat.

“Shun-kun, it’s a shame we can’t spin together, but hey, we can still get hyped up with our class’s event, right? Let’s make pizza! We can build a stone oven and bake it in the classroom! Doesn’t that sound fun?! It’ll be such a huge profit, won’t it?!”

You’ll die from carbon monoxide poisoning.

I don’t get why someone who can’t even handle charcoal is suddenly passionate about making authentic pizza.

It’s a problem even before pizza. Endou, who keeps twirling her hair with her finger, lets out a disinterested, “Class event~~~?” as if she couldn’t care less.

As expected,

“Hina doesn’t really care about the class event… Stuff like store duty and customer service is such a pain…”

I get where she’s coming from, but is it too selfish to not want to be lumped together with her?

It seems like Urogase and Natsugoshi share the same opinion.

“I honestly don’t care either. Since the cultural festival and the little ones’ play are so close together, it’s gonna be a hassle preparing for both.”

“I’m passing too. I’ve got plans with the seniors from the light music club for a stage performance. The class event can just be an exhibit or something. Honestly, we don’t have to do anything, right?”

As the unenthusiastic group starts to grumble, Ikari shouts, “What the hell?!” Meanwhile, the last of the “riajuu” girls, Watasumi, has a brilliant idea and grins. She’s barely holding back laughter.

“I think Ikari should just do it. I’ll prepare the cage and bananas for you, so you can just roll around in it all day. Charge 100 yen for admission… Hehe! ‘Ikari Zoo’…!”

“Isn’t the way you’re treating me a bit harsh?!”

The rest of the “riajuu” group laughs hysterically at this “brilliant idea.” “Making the cage is too much work. Let’s make Ikari do it.” “We can just nail him to the wall like Christ, that’ll be cheaper.” “Charge more for admission, like one more digit.” The ideas just keep coming.

Whether Ikari Zoo is a joke or not, it’s hard to imagine the class ever coming together for it. Using Ikari the panda as a crowd puller is just asking for failure.

I guess I was foolish to expect anything. It’s clear that getting the class to rally together is going to be tough.

With the “riajuu” group leading the way, the classroom is buzzing with cultural festival talk. But the hype stays within the circle of friends.

Of course, that makes sense. Since it’s such a big event, it’s much more enjoyable to hang out with your close friends than to unite the whole class. It’s more relaxed and fun that way.

Even those in the lowest social caste, like the candy shop owner and Takeshi, aren’t exceptions. “After school is gonna be so busy~!” they say, as they make their oath to win the eSports club’s game tournament. They’re getting so excited that it’s almost making people around them uncomfortable.

It’s impossible to expect a sudden, magical moment where everyone holds hands and fights to make the cultural festival a success, regardless of caste.

The short HR. On the wind-battered stage, Amami-sensei starts talking to the students about the still-hot topic of the cultural festival.

“As the student council president said, the cultural festival is almost here. So, we need to choose one boy and one girl from the class to be the event committee members.”

Everyone listens to Amami-sensei’s words, but they seem to be completely uninterested as they chat with their neighbors or zone out.

It’s strangely nostalgic. It reminds me of when we were deciding the organizers for the social event. Everyone wants to have fun, but no one wants to take on the hard work. It’s only natural. If it weren’t for the private rooms, I’d probably just be staring out the window at the city.

Suddenly, I feel a strong gaze.

I turn and see Misaki smiling brightly. When our eyes meet, she beams even wider, as if to say, “Let’s work hard as event committee members!”

Your happiness is mine, and my happiness is mine too. By the humanitarian.

I don’t know if she’s an angel or a reincarnation of Takeshi Goda, but being able to smile just thinking about other people’s happiness is truly wonderful.

Amami-sensei claps with enthusiasm.

“If you’re willing to be on the event committee, raise your hands, you brave kids!”

Every time, she raises the bar for candidates.

Misaki, with her wings, is completely unfazed by it. “Yup!” she says, raising her arm toward the teacher’s desk with all her might. Her fingers are spread apart so forcefully, it almost looks like they’ll tear.

And then, as if to tease me, she says with a delighted look, “Aren’t you raising your hand? Hurry up and raise it.”

Even though I didn’t want to be stared at, I slowly raise my hand. In an instant, the class stirs.

“Eh? Himemiya, the lone wolf, is a committee member? Maybe even he wants to make memories?”

“No way. Look at that side profile. That ain’t the face of someone lookin’ to make warm n’ fuzzy memories.”

“You’re right… That’s the cold, unfeeling stare of a hitman just going through the motions of a job he was hired for…”

“Don’t tell me… he’s planning to take the culture festival down from the inside…?”

There’s a limit to how far rumors can go, y’know.

If I wanted to spin it positively, I guess it means I’ve successfully established my “I like being alone” brand in class.

Don’t wanna look at it the negative way. That’d make me seriously wanna sabotage the culture festival.

Amami-sensei clapped with a cheerful “Thank you for volunteering!” and everyone else followed suit, politely clapping along. Same exact scene as when we were picking the social committee organizer. I even yawned without realizing.

“Well then! I’ll be counting on both of you—Himemiya-kun and Misaki sa—”

“W-Wait!”

…Huh?

That voice was way too familiar.

A weird, uneasy feeling crept up on me. My eyes, almost unwillingly, drifted toward the voice.

“I… I want to volunteer too…!”

The person who nervously raised her hand was none other than Hatori.

Her arm trembled like she was trying to lift a barbell or something. If she relaxed for even a second, it’d probably drop.

I couldn’t even close my mouth, left gaping from the sheer unexpectedness.

And I wasn’t the only one stunned. The rest of the class froze so hard they forgot to even murmur. Even Misaki, who was all hyped just moments ago, blinked with confusion, softly whispering:

“Erena…?”

But that surprised look on Misaki lasted all of two seconds. She glanced between me and Hatori slowly, as if something had just clicked, and with a soft “naruhodo,” she returned to her usual sunny smile like nothing had happened.

With that full-beam smile back in place, Misaki spoke up:

“I think… I’ll step down after all!”

Didn’t even give us a second to question her sudden change of heart. Misaki lowered her hand, which she’d been holding up so energetically just moments ago, and now gestured toward me and Hatori with both palms open like, “Go ahead, go ahead!”

Since the person herself withdrew, no one had any reason to object.

Even Amami-sensei had the same reaction. Heck, she looked thrilled, like she was about to say “No problem at all! In fact, this is even better!”

“Well then! The committee members for the culture festival are Himemiya-kun and Hatori-san!”

“Let’s give them a big round of applause, everyone!” Amami-sensei clapped again, prompting the frozen classmates to finally restart their clapping with slow, scattered pachi pachis.

As the applause rose again, I glanced over at Hatori.

And that’s when our eyes met.

“!? ～～～～!”

Not even for a second. Like she’d been whacked with a hammer in both hands, her gaze dropped instantly. Her ears were beet red.

Hatori… I can sorta guess why you volunteered.

But don’t you think that’s kind of a wild card move, girl…?

※ ※ ※

“Well, I couldn’t help it, okay? The committee needs one boy and one girl.”

“That’s not what I’m annoyed about.”

“Then what is?”

“The fact that you came with me to the café.”

“Anyone who says something that cold doesn’t deserve hot coffee~”

True to her word, Misaki—sitting across from me—stuck out her tongue with a cheeky bleh and straight-up confiscated my coffee.

It was after school. I’d dropped by our usual café “WELL” to soak in some quality alone time, but somehow Misaki was just… here, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Well, half of that was sarcasm. I do know we’re here to talk about the culture festival.

Technically, Hatori should be the one across from me, since she’s the other committee member. But there’s no way she’d be able to talk to me face-to-face. So Misaki’s here as her representative, I guess. Not that I think she wouldn’t have come anyway, even if she weren’t.

I shoot a pointed look at her, silently begging for my coffee back. Misaki, who was happily sipping her apple ginger tea, just points at the sugar pot and tilts her head like, “Want sugar?”

Wait… did she take my coffee not out of spite, but to put sugar in it?

…She a good girl or what?

I nod once, giving in, and she enters Karin-sama’s Coffee Service Mode. With elegant care, she scoops half a spoon of sugar and stirs it in, nice and slow. Just the right amount too—she knows I like my coffee on the bitter or lightly sweet side. High marks for that.

“Here ya go~” she says, sliding the saucer toward me with the handle turned just right.

And thus, a Misaki fan’s dream is born: “Karin-sama’s Lovingly-Stirred Coffee”

“Thanks.” I nod and take a sip.

The beans are house-roasted, and not only is their natural richness drawn out perfectly, but there’s also a refined, fruity fragrance rising from the cup. The touch of sugar balances the bitterness and acidity beautifully. This is what you call perfect harmony.

Blue Mountain… so goooood…

Coffee really is fascinating. The flavor changes drastically depending not just on the type of bean, but how it’s roasted, how it’s brewed… even who makes it.

It’s kind of like studying. Just memorizing formulas or grammar isn’t enough—you need to understand the meaning behind it. Do that, and you can handle the hard problems too. You won’t forget it, either. Same with coffee. The more you learn—about history, regions, processing—the deeper and richer the taste becomes.

The more you know, the better it gets.

To chase that ultimate cup… I keep diving deeper into the coffee swamp.

This kind of obsession… it’s a privilege only given to those who truly care, huh? I take another sip and sigh with satisfaction.

Master, you’ve outdone yourself again…

Misaki, resting both elbows on the table, smiled at me like she was content too. Maybe my joy was showing on my face.

Then, for some reason, I couldn’t stop looking at her.

“What is it?”

“Nah, just… you kinda remind me of Blue Mountain.”

“??? In what way am I like coffee beans?”

“You’ve got a well-rounded flavor. Subtle, but refined. Familiar to the average joe, yet renowned for being top-tier quality and class.”

“Geez… you say embarrassing stuff so casually, Himemiya-kun…”

“So you’re saying you’re an embarrassing person?”

“That’s not what I meant!!”

Is she flustered or just mad? Misaki, cheeks puffed, tried to cool herself down with a sip of her apple ginger tea, but it was apparently still hot—she started fanning herself with her hands in a panic.

“Ugh… I should’ve gone with iced…”

“If you said, ‘Ginger’s a failure too,’ I’d probably get my head cracked open with a teapot.”

Seriously, though, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop barking any louder than this.

“Haruichi-san♪ If you had to compare me to something, what would it be?”

See? What’d I tell ya.

The waitress who came bouncing over with a beaming smile was someone I already had way too much déjà vu with.

With her natural champagne-gold hair, clear sapphire eyes, and fair skin, her innocent, charming face looked straight out of a dollhouse.

Her appearance, practically a spitting image of a French doll, blended beautifully with the nostalgic air of the retro café. Honestly, she could probably pass as one of the store’s decorations and no one would bat an eye.

Her name was Shirahoshi Arisu. After that summer vacation fiasco, where she mistook me for her destined love, she ended up working at Café WELL. Now, she’s one of their poster girls.

As for why she started working here? Yeah, I’d rather not dig too deep into that.

Like a friendly little puppy, this girl with sparkling, innocent eyes leaned in, trying to close the already-too-small distance between us. Still a bit too close for comfort, but compared to before, it’s… marginally better. Still not the kind of gap you’d expect between a customer and a server, though.

What would I compare Shirahoshi to?

“Hmm… honey. Super sweet. Bright-colored hair, too.”

“Hehe…♪ Then I must pair perfectly with you, Haruichi-san, since you like coffee!”

“You’re way too sweet.”

“I’ll work really hard to melt in perfectly with you!”

What’s going on with your eardrums, seriously…?

As always, Shirahoshi’s sweetness is on another level. Even my cold-as-salt responses melt like sugar in front of her 1000%-sweetness. If I dunked her in Lake Biwa overnight, I’m pretty sure I could harvest gallons of Shirahoshi syrup the next morning.

If that one subcultural girl could speak her mind as clearly as this, maybe things would’ve been way easier to deal with.

Misaki and Shiraboshi linked hands with excited little squeals, celebrating their reunion.

“Arisu-chan, you’ve totally become a café girl now!”

“Thank you so much♪ We’ve gotten more and more friendly regulars, so it’s been so much fun!”

You can often see her chatting happily with customers, so she’s probably being honest.

Even if she’s a little out of touch with the average citizen, as a bold and curious ojousama, she’s got that polished grace and etiquette. It didn’t take long at all for her to blend in.

Then, something strange happened. Shirahoshi tilted her head slowly, like she’d sensed some disturbance in the air.

A few seconds of tilting later—gasp! A sudden realization dawned on her.

“C-Could it be?! Are you two on a date—”

“We’re not!!”

Ugh. Two people of opposite gender together = date? Is your brain made of pure romance clichés?

Seeing how flustered Misaki got, Shirahoshi visibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Since Erena-san and Ruri-san weren’t around, I just assumed… Whew, I seriously thought my life expectancy just dropped from the shock…”

“Can you please keep it to shrinking, not ending, geez… Listen, Arisu-chan. We came to WELL to have a planning meeting for the school festival.”

“He’s the class rep for our group,” Misaki added unnecessarily, prompting Shirahoshi to go from relieved to sparkling. Like a proud mom, she showered me in over-the-top praise.

Even if I smashed a window at school, this girl would probably still call me amazing, so no, I’m not happy about it.

“It is the school festival season, isn’t it~? Our class is also kicking it into high gear for the big day!”

“What’s your class doing, Arisu-chan?”

“We’re doing a stage play of Romeo and Juliet♪”

“Romijuri!” Misaki perked up with 30% more excitement than usual.

Girls really do love their tragic romance stories. Guys usually prefer no-stress, easygoing cuties.

“A girl-only version of the play sounds like something out of Takarazuka—super cool!”

“We’ve modernized the script and added musical elements, so it’s definitely a must-see♪ If you’ve got time, you should all come watch!”

With a sweet smile, Shirahoshi made her pitch, and Misaki responded with a full-bloom grin: “Really!? I’ll totally be there!”

Regulars nearby, watching their sweet JK-banter, sipped their coffee like it was the perfect snack to pair with this wholesome show.

Honestly, even without a play, you two could just chat on stage and rake in the cash.

“Haruichi-san, you should look forward to the day, too! I’ll do my very best playing Juliet! Well then, enjoy your time here♪”

Remembering she was technically on the job, Shiraboshi gave a deep bow, then skipped back to work, still in high spirits just like when she first arrived.

“She’s the main role and just casually drops it in—so like Arisu-chan,” Misaki chuckled.

“And assuming I’ll come see it without even asking first—that too.”

What is this, forced overtime?

“C’mon, let’s all go together!” Misaki said with a teasing laugh. Whether she meant it or not was unclear. I guess I could just send Yuzu as my proxy and call it a day.

Then Misaki suddenly straightened up, posture all serious.

“Alright, Himemiya-kun. Shall we start the planning meeting now?”

“…Hoah.”

You’re telling me we’re just now getting to the main event? I honestly thought we’d canceled.

“I think a really compelling booth or event is essential to unite the class, y’know? So I was thinking, why don’t we start by brainstorming some ideas?”

Even as the class rep, I can’t just decide things on my own. But considering how zero-motivation our class is, Misaki’s idea to prepare some options ahead of time might not be such a bad move.

“Should we do a play, too?” Misaki suggested, still riding the Romijuri high.

Then, her expression shifted from joy to sorrow as she took on the Juliet role herself, looking at me like I was her Romeo, reciting that iconic line…

“Ahh, Haruichi-kun, Haruichi-kun… Why must you be Haruichi-kun…?”

“No idea. Ask my parents.”

“……”

Romijuri fever: completely extinguished. Welcome back to reality.

C’mon, you don’t have to glare at me like that…

“My old man said it’s because they wanted me to grow strong, like the first spring wind—‘haru ichiban.’ That’s how they chose Haruichi.”

“I wasn’t glaring ‘cause I wanted your name’s backstory! I mean, thanks, it was cute, but!”

This Juliet’s got a loud mouth.

“Anyway, jokes aside. A play’s probably a bad idea for our class, right?”

“So you were just toying with my feelings… But why do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“You need to practice every morning and after school. Plus there’s costumes, stage setup, and assigning roles in advance. If motivation’s low, it’ll never work.”

“Hmm… true. Then maybe a show or performance would be too hard. What about food stalls or games? But then again, everything needs motivation in the end.”

“I think an exhibit could work.”

“Ehhh,” Misaki pouted openly.

“With an exhibit, the prep’s all beforehand. On the day itself, I think a fun booth would be better.”

“And that’s exactly why I think an exhibit is perfect.”

“…Do you even want to bring the class together?”

“My plan is to get the work done early so everyone can just goof off freely during the festival—”

“That kind of unity is rejected!!”

So low-effort solidarity is a no-go, huh…

“Don’t you have anything you wanna try for the class activity, Himemiya-kun? …Yeah, didn’t think so.”

“How rude. …You’re not wrong though.”

“…Thanks for living up to my expectations.”

Not exactly a tone I can respond to with a “You’re welcome.”

Maybe she’s finally realized that I’m not the guy to count on for good ideas. Misaki keeps muttering to herself, trying to squeeze out a decent proposal for our class exhibit.

“If it’s food-related, maybe something like cute desserts for Insta-bae…? But the boys wouldn’t care about that. A haunted house would be sca—no, too childish, that’s no good either…”

Don’t let your personal fears get in the way.

As she kept chanting ideas like a monk reciting sutras…

“Uugh… Nothing’s coming to me…”

Eventually, Misaki gives up. She sloooowly collapses onto the table, arms first, like a failed head-first slide into home base.

“If this keeps up, it’ll end up just like the disaster that was the class mixer~”

“This might actually be trickier than the mixer. That one was optional. This one’s a mandatory event.”

“Can you not pile on the pressure…? I mean, maybe we’ll just have to let the planning committee decide for us…”

“Yeah, might come to that.”

“‘Yeah, might come to that’… You’re being way too hands-off, Himemiya-kun—!?”

Noticing something, Misaki lifts her face from the desk.

What she sees is me, calmly scribbling away in a notepad.

“What are you writing?”

“This? Just some countermeasure plans to keep the class together.”

“…………Huh?”

What is this guy even saying? Her face goes blank, staring like a broken NPC.

No time to waste locking eyes. As I resume writing, Misaki snaps back to reality and keeps pressing.

“W-Wait, what? I thought we were coming up with ideas together for the class activity? That’s not what this is?”

“Hm? That’s your job, right? I’ve got my own stuff I’m thinking about. I’m leaving the whole class activity thing to you.”

“…”

“Think about it. You really think a loner like me is gonna come up with a class activity so good it grabs everyone’s attention, all in a day or two? I’ve got so much confidence I might never come up with anything, ever.”

“…”

“So yeah, let’s each work our angles and do our best. Good luck, partner in solo-play.”

I give her a little mock salute.

Now then, memo memo…

“Ki…”

“Ki?”

…Kill you? Was that a death threat just now?

When I look up again, for the third time, the hot apple ginger drink must be kicking in or something, ‘cause—

Right in front of me is the resident humanitarian, cheeks puffed up like a balloon.

“Killing time alone sure is your favorite thing to do!!”

Well, you see… I’ve just spent too much time alone.

Next time I come to a café with Misaki, I should recommend something mint-based. Iced.

And if she still says she’s overheating, we can always sit at separate tables.

※ ※ ※

The next day, lunch break.

After finishing my food early, I’m walking down the hallway toward my destination when—

“You’re not gonna say, ‘Why are you coming too?’ Okay? Just don’t.”

“I haven’t said anything yet, though.”

“Not yet is still a red flag,” Misaki says as she closes the distance with half a step, bringing us elbow-to-elbow. The death glares from Misaki fans passing by are so intense it hurts. I want to escape with everything I’ve got.

Well, whatever. Since I’m using one of her ideas, I guess she’s earned the right to tag along.

We reach our destination. I double-check the nameplate to make sure it’s the right classroom, then knock on the door.

“Hoi hoooi~” comes a lazy male voice from inside.

“Excuse us.”

Opening the door, I see the source of the voice—Student Council President Deyashiki—along with the VP, secretary, and other members of the student council all gathered, apparently in the middle of a lunch meeting.

I always figured the student council room was somewhere I’d never step foot in, so it does feel kinda novel. Still, it’s only slightly bigger than a regular private room, with not much difference in layout.

While I’m barely reacting at all, the student council members are making a huge fuss.

“It’s Karin-chan!”

“Why’s the school idol in a place like this!?”

“I’m so glad I got elected president…!”

“Tea! Brew some tea for her!!”

…Are they even seeing me right now? I’m starting to feel like the mythical sixth member of a five-person team. Maybe if I threw a fastball at each of their faces, they’d notice me.

Fortunately, I don’t have to bother. Seems they can see me, after all. The president puts down his chopsticks, claps his hands together and says, “Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m Himemiya from Class 1-B. Sorry to interrupt your lunch meeting.”

“It’s fine, really. We were just killing time talking about how to make Hitomin smile.”

The president turns to the vice president—Hitomin, aka Miyai Hitomi—with a grin, “Right Hiyamin?”.

But the iron-faced Miyai-senpai doesn’t crack a smile. Instead—

“I did find the president’s mock exam scores amusing.”

“You’re evil, you know that!?”

The president demands an apology, but Miyai-senpai won’t even look at him.

There’s something about their dynamic. It kinda reminds me of… someone.

Looks like Misaki feels the same. It’s like a mirror held up to her and me. She stares, shocked—”Th-This is just like… me and Himemiya-kun!”

“Yeah, roast the president some more!” laugh the other council members.

Miyai-senpai silences the room with nothing but a flick of her right hand. At this point, it’s not even a vice president–president relationship—it’s a full-blown role reversal.

“So, what brings you two here today?”

“We wanted to consult you about something for the cultural festival.”

“A consultation?”

“Yes.” I nod, and explain the reason we came. We want to unify our class and build morale.

“I was wondering… Would it be possible to have a prize for the class that scores the best with their exhibit?”

Reactions vary. Some look amused, others just listen silently. The president seems into it—”Oho!” he says with clear interest.

As for Miyai-senpai…

“Regrettably, we cannot comply with that request.”

Without so much as twitching an eyebrow, she flat-out shut it down. Completely ignoring the president’s booing, her resolve looked solid.

“Why not?”

“The class competition itself isn’t the issue—we do it every year, after all. However, this is Otozuka High we’re talking about. Sure, it says we’re a public school with history, but in reality, we’re hanging by a thread. We can’t even get proper renovations done, let alone spend money for the students to have fun. There’s no budget for prizes. We couldn’t even afford three Umaibō sticks.”

Talk about brutally honest.

The student council members whispered among themselves:

“Hitomin doesn’t show it on her face, but she says everything out loud…”

“Why is our school always broke, seriously…”

“Because the president decided we needed an ice cream vending machine, duh.”

“Hey, you guys were all stuffing your faces with that ice cream too! …Granted, now that it’s colder out, we haven’t been hitting it as much lately…”

And so on.

The president, either out of curiosity or guilt over the vending machine, pressed his hands together in front of Hitomin in a full-on plz pose. He looked like a husband begging his demon wife for a bigger allowance.

“Hitomin~ Come on, our cute little kouhai came up with such a fun idea, can’t we try to make it work~?”

“Hmm… Then how about this? We reallocate the bouquet budget for the president’s retirement celebration and use that for the prizes.”

“You’re taking that from me!? And why are you revealing a surprise like that right now?!”

“It won’t exist anymore, so there’s no problem.”

“If you want it that badly…” Miyai-senpai placed a parsley garnish from her bento on the president’s tray.

Receiving this early bouquet (??), the president bit into the parsley with tears in his eyes. “Back when you first joined the student council, you were way more adorable…”

Itadakimasu? Or maybe go-shuushou-sama?

Clapping his hands together, the president seemed to have made up his mind—or maybe he just snapped.

“Losing my bouquet honestly stings. But! If this will get the students hyped for the culture festival, then I’ll be the sacrifice! Alright, kouhai! What would you want as a prize in place of the bouquet!?”

“Oh, uh. It’s fine. We don’t need the bouquet budget.”

“…Huh?”

“Actually, we don’t want it.”

“…………”

Silence fell over the student council room, broken only by the pitiful sniffles of the president.

Then, Misaki delivered a sharp scolding.

“Himemiya-kun! Don’t say things in such a misleading way! S-sorry, Kaichou-san… Himemiya-kun didn’t mean anything bad. He just, um, only ever says the bare minimum…”

“I like that. I think it’s a good stance to take.”

“Miyai-senpai, don’t spoil Himemiya-kun like that!”

I could see myself sharing a good cup of coffee with the vice president someday.

That said, I wasn’t here to gang up on the president or flirt with Miyai-senpai.

“Senpai-tachi, would you take a look at this paper for me?”

To make up for my lack of words, I handed out A4 sheets I had prepped in advance to each student council member.

As they read through it, their reactions varied.

The most striking was Miyai-senpai—her expression barely changed, but her eyes widened ever so slightly and stayed locked on the paper, unblinking.

Here’s what it said:

— Low-Cost, Feasible Prize Ideas —

Raise the heater by 3 degrees during winter

Set up unused kettles or heaters in classrooms

Open up the plugs in the changing room for irons/dryers

Allow use of unused clubrooms as storage

Tenka-sensei’s old ofuro-oke (wooden bath)

Temporary Wi-Fi access during lunch (password-protected)

Exemption from end-of-year cleaning duties

Cafeteria gets temporary “large size” meals or bonus dessert

Reserved terrace seats in the cafeteria during lunch

After-festival party space priority in cafeteria

“We want to hype up the culture festival. So please, let us have these prizes.”

There’s no way the student council would approve a request like that. Besides, if I’m being honest, I know full well what kind of financial state our school’s in.

That’s why—I made a list of only the cheapest, most doable prize ideas I could think of.

I can’t come up with some show-stopping class performance that’ll wow everyone. But when it comes to small prizes that different groups might enjoy—like the high-caste girls, the gamer guys, the sports boys, or the sweet-toothed girls—I can think of things that’ll make them smile.

Spray and pray. Quality over quantity? Nah—sometimes, numbers win. Like “chiri mo tsumoreba” or “three arrows” and all that. The meaning’s the same.

“To be honest… our class doesn’t have a lot of motivation for the culture festival. But if we had a variety of fun prizes like this, I think it’d really boost everyone’s spirits! I bet the other classes would be happy too! It’ll make the culture fest even more exciting!”

Moved by the heartfelt appeal from our school idol Misaki, the student council listened closely, nodding again and again. Some even started clapping.

Kaichou, sensing the bouquet’s comeback, was smiling again.

“Hitomin, if everything on this list is super low-cost, then we might actually be able to offer them as prizes, right?”

“Yeah… I think it’s a really good idea.”

“Th-then, Himemiya-kun’s proposal is…?”

“Yes. Please, let us adopt it.”

When the so-called Tekkamen Joshi (Iron-Mask Girl) Miyai-senpai gave a tiny smile, Misaki followed suit with a full bloom of joy.

“We did it, Himemiya-kun♪” she said, forcing a high-five on me, totally grinning on my behalf. So it’s fine—I don’t need to show any emotion besides quiet relief.

With a sharp clap from the president, the student council jumped into full action mode.

“No time like the present! Let’s start listing out what we can offer as prizes right now. Once we’ve got our candidates, we’ll each talk to teachers and students to work out the details. Alright—fire away with ideas!”

“A friend in the PC club said they’ve got some old machines in the clubroom—I’ll go negotiate!”

“The photography club had that super-secret Bishoujo Zukan, right? I heard the moral committee confiscated it. Should we make that a prize?”

“We’ll rope the teachers in too! See if they’ve got anything to donate—funds, items, anything. Heck, we’ll make them help.”

Ideas flew like fireworks. The cozy, laid-back vibe from earlier had vanished. This was a team of pros, seriously stepping up.

And with pros like these? I’m sure they’ll come up with way better stuff than me in no time.

Misaki poked my shoulder with her finger.

“Looks like everything’s set. Shall we head back?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh—wait up a sec.”

“”?””

Just as we were about to leave, Kaichou called out to stop us.

“Seriously, thank you. Thanks to you guys, looks like we’ll be able to hold an even more fun bunkasai.”

“Not at all. You even accepted suggestions from your kouhai. If anything, we’re the ones who should be grateful.”

“Age doesn’t matter,” Miyai-senpai cut in sharply.

“Even if you’re older, a ponkotsu(ditzy) is still a ponkotsu. Right, Kaichou?”

“Oi, don’t throw that to me… Still, Hitomin’s right. Age doesn’t matter. Whether it’s a kouhai or a cafeteria lady, if it’s a fun idea, we in the student council accept it with open arms.”

Wish I could send that message to some black-hearted company still clinging to seniority systems like gospel.

After receiving their thanks, we were about to finally leave when—

“I have a proposal for you.”

“He’s got a proposal for you, apparently,” I nudge Misaki with a glance, but she shoots me a cold, sharp-eyed glare in return.

And once they’ve dropped your name, there’s no slipping away anymore.

“Himemiya. How about running for student council?”

“Haa?” “Ehh…?!”

Misaki… That pure reaction of surprise sometimes cuts deeper than a thousand blades.

“Before long, all of us third-years—including me—are gonna graduate. I’d really like someone like you, someone who can move and act like you do, to join the student council and liven up the school.”

“I’m in favor too. Once the current Kaichou disappears, I’m planning to run for president myself. If you’d be my vice president then, it’d be a huge help.”

Even Miyai-senpai joined in with a totally serious atmosphere. With that kind of pressure, I completely forgot to unsheathe my ultimate weapon: the interrupting no thank you.

I mean, being invited into the student council room—a place I thought I’d never set foot in—is wild.

Life really is unpredictable. Or maybe society is doomed.

Not that the outcome changes.

“I’m not running. I’m already full up dealing with my own stuff. Besides, I can only see the entire school’s morale plummeting if I joined.”

“What do you see, Himemiya-kun…”

Misaki and the other student council members all go “Ehh…” with clearly deflated expressions.

Not my problem. No matter how highly ranked someone is, if I hate something, I’m saying no. If someone tries to hand me work right before the end of the day in the future, I’m leaving with a “It’s closing time.”

What even is “No Overtime Day”? Does that mean it’s okay to go home on time only that day? Why not just call every other day “Mandatory Overtime Day” so employees can at least accept their fate?

…Anyway. Bottom line is, I hate what I hate. That’s just who I am.

“Sorry ’bout that,” I say with a quick bow, and although they’re clearly reluctant, Kaichou and the others back off.

“Hmm… Well, I guess it’s not something you can decide on the spot. Alright, alright! There’s still time before the student council election, so just keep it in the back of your mind.”

“Haa…” Even I noticed how lifeless my own reply was.

“Well then,” Kaichou says, clapping his hands. “Time’s short, so let’s get the whole student council moving to gather prizes!”

The meeting resumes, and Misaki and I finally make our exit from the student council room.

We don’t head straight back to class. Instead, we’re up at one of my favorite spots—the top of the emergency staircase, watching YouTube on my phone.

“Himemiya-kun, you’re seriously weird!”

“…Hah?”

Just like in the hallway earlier, Misaki’s picking a fight again.

I stayed quiet since she was calmly sitting next to me, but now the first thing out of her mouth is calling me a weirdo?

You wanna go, huh?

“If your blood’s boiling, go punch some random guy or something. I’m trying to watch this video.”

“Can you not make it sound like I just challenged someone because I wanted to punch somebody?!”

“Didn’t you?”

“Of course not!”

Pouting, Misaki seems to realize she wasn’t entirely innocent here. “Okay, okay, using misleading words was my bad,” she admits honestly.

“But still!”

“But still what?”

“Himemiya-kun, who loves being alone more than three meals a day, actually got acknowledged by the student council, you know? I think that’s something incredibly amazing. But what happens? The guy himself doesn’t even smile about it, and just sits there happily watching videos of shoemakers polishing shoes.”

You better polish shoes for the rest of your life, man.

That said, it’s not like Misaki is trying to diss shoemakers or anything.

…Though I am probably the one being dissed here.

Her pout from earlier now completely gone, Misaki exhales slowly—she’s clearly in all energy drained mode. Like even holding herself up is a pain, she leans against the metal railing.

They say even beauty gets boring after three days, but watching Misaki’s ever-changing expressions? Never gets old.

“Ugh… kinda stings, y’know? I mean, I get it—the reason the prez and the others invited you is ’cause your adaptability and ideas are amazing. But if we’re talking character roles? I should be the one getting invited!”

What’s mine is mine, what’s theirs is theirs—Misaki knows that too. But maybe that’s exactly why it stings so much. The fact that something she values so deeply is being outshone by someone who lives the complete opposite way… yeah, it must be frustrating. Honestly, I’d probably feel the same if our roles were reversed.

Even this humanitarian Misaki… she still doesn’t want to lose to others.

“It feels like your back’s getting further and further away, Himemiya-kun.”

“I haven’t changed at all though.”

“I know that. I know it’s just that we finally realized how high your potential actually is.”

“Like, ‘A skilled Himemiya hides his claws’ kinda thing?”

Misaki raises both hands near her face, curling her fingers like claws—but it’s 100% a cat pose, no matter how you slice it.

Yep. She’s a cat, alright.

“And the fact that you haven’t changed at all is what makes it so unfair! Total cheat move!”

Is she pouting again? She scratches at my back—pretending it’s a wall—with her little nails in a soft flurry of “attacks.” Even in mock violence, Misaki’s considerate. That’s so like her.

Eventually she gets bored of her attack and just flops over onto her back like she’s been knocked out. Her skirt hikes up just a bit, and her elegant, slim thighs catch the sunlight. Honestly, I don’t know where I’m supposed to look.

“Aaah… just once, I wanna make Himemiya-kun eat his words. Catch him off guard, y’know?”

You wanna make me eat my words…?

Yup. Her blood’s totally pumping right now.

“You know, the moment a humanitarian type like you tries to pick a fight with a lone wolf like me? You’ve already lost.”

“A fight…? Actually, that sounds kinda great.”

“…Huh!? Uoh…”

Misaki suddenly springs up with a burst of energy, rushing right into my personal space.

Eyes sparkling, hands balled into fists, she practically beams as she declares:

“I wanna beat you, Himemiya-kun! That’s why—let’s have a match!”

…What is this girl even saying?

Is she some kind of battle-obsessed warrior tribe member?

You’re not that kind of Karin-sama.

Just like an old man crashing his car into a convenience store… once she steps on the gas, there’s no stopping her.

“If we’re gonna have a match, then it’s gotta be at the culture festival! Yep! Let’s compete to see whose class project contributes more to everyone!”

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want that you don’t want to♪”

…Is this a forced combat event or what?

Watching Misaki hum “Shoubu(match), shoubu~♪” all cheerful and upbeat, I can’t help but think—if all the world’s conflicts looked like this, maybe we’d have world peace by now.

Anyway, could you not? I’d like to focus on this video, thanks.

※ ※ ※

“And that’s the deal. The top-ranking classes will be awarded prizes.”

Next morning, during short homeroom. As soon as we write out the list of prizes on the board from the handout given by the student council, the entire class erupts in a frenzy.

The top-tier gyaru girls are especially fired up:

“You can use a hair iron and a dryer after P.E.?! That’s insane! Hina, like, sooo sooo soooo~ wanna win this thing!”

“Right?! And for someone like me who’s always freezing, unlimited heating is literally the hottest prize ever! And it even comes with a humidifier!”

The lower-tier otaku group was practically glowing.

“Unlimited Wi-Fi during lunch break?! This is too blessed! We can watch anime nonstop! Game nonstop!”

“Y-Yes! Totally agreed! If we win, it’s a no-brainer—we’re bringing our Switches! Gonna be landing headshots all day!”

The wholesome boys had their priorities in check:

“Wha… what?! The Photography Club’s top-secret Bishoujo Zukan is a prize!?”

“Word is, there are school swimsuit shots of Karin-chan, Hatori-san, and Ruri all getting yuri-yuri with each other…! I need it! I need it as my phone wallpaper!!”

“There’s also the Vice President’s pre-exam tutoring course! ‘You seriously can’t solve this?’ or ‘Maybe you should start over from elementary school?’—I want to be verbally abused! And then she gets all dere when I ace the test!!”

Meanwhile, Amami-sensei was panicking.

“W-Why is my bath bucket part of the prize pool!? A-Ahhh! Himemiya-kun, you laughed through your nose just now, didn’t you!? You know something, don’t you!?”

Yeah. It’s actually kind of heartwarming to see everyone fired up, regardless of gender, caste, or whether they’re jocks or culture-club nerds.

With the goal of “Class Victory” finally clear, the entire class began charging toward it full speed.

“No time to be running a petting zoo, Ikari!”

“Seriously! We need to rethink everything from scratch!”

“Let’s bake pizzas, PIZZAS! What if we build a stone oven and cook them in the classroom? Wouldn’t that be awesome?! Total gold mine!!”

“Ikari, we’re serious here, so shut it.”

“What should we do? What should we do?”

Everyone leaned forward, the whole classroom erupting into a chaotic brainstorm session.

As expected… Misaki’s effect is unreal.

“I think we should do a maid café♪”

That clear, confident voice carried easily through the noisy classroom.

It didn’t matter who you were—when the school idol spoke, everyone listened.

“It’s a classic, yeah. But because it’s a classic, it’s got that cozy vibe and impact. Maid cafés are usually strong contenders. Plus, think about it! Since other classes will probably also do maid cafés or food stalls, if we can pull ahead with something extra special, we could scoop up a ton of votes!”

Misaki flowed through her proposal with ease, so smoothly you’d never think she was the same girl who was agonizing in the café the other day.

She came prepared. She must’ve spent last night planning this out in detail.

Maybe shifting from the vague “What should we do to come together?” to the clearer “What should we do to win?” made it easier for everyone to think.

And the difference between someone blurting out half-baked ideas on the spot and someone who came in with fully prepped suggestions? Night and day.

“So? What do you guys think?” Misaki asked with a bright smile.

“Yeah… a maid café sounds kinda awesome! You only get a chance to wear that stuff at events like this!”

“It’s a bit embarrassing, but… Karin-chan’s seriously putting her all into this, so…”

“I’m in! For us guys, this is basically a dream come true!”

Just like that, the class’s collective maid café fever started boiling over. Misaki entered her final, blazing sprint.

“Leave the menu planning to me♪ I’ll come up with delicious sweets that pair perfectly with coffee and tea. I’m gonna capture every customer’s heart—guaranteed!”

And then—

“Costumes can get pricey if we buy them off-the-shelf, so leave that to me too! I’ll sew us cute maid uniforms and aprons myself! Look forward to it, okay?”

Misaki’s ultimate homemaking skillset had the whole class in a frenzy.

“Ka…Karin’s serious…!”

“If we all give it our best… we might actually win this thing…”

“Dang… all I can see is victory…”

And she wasn’t done.

With a bold, proud finger pointed right at me—

“And don’t forget! We’ve got Himemiya-kun, our café expert!”

“…Huh?”

“Himemiya-kun worked a café job over summer break! The owner even begged him to stay on long-term because he was so good! If we’re doing a café, we couldn’t ask for anyone better!”

With Misaki’s fiery endorsement, every eye in the class locked onto me at once.

“Himemiya… doing customer service? Wait… was the whole summer café job… prep for this moment?!”

“A lone wolf sacrificing his summer break?! Himemiya… you madman…!”

“That settles it! We have to win with our maid café now!!”

Scary.

How do these guys arrive at these conclusions!?

Cheers erupted from the boys, chanting “Maid Café! Maid Café!” while the girls applauded and cheered with equal passion.

And then—

“Everyone! Let’s aim for victory—together!!”

With Misaki’s rallying cry, the class roared:

「「「「「Oooooooh!!!」」」」」, fists pumping skyward.

And just like that—the maid café was locked in.

Not like I had a reason to oppose it. If it brings the class together, then sure—exhibition or café, I’m all for it.

I gave a little applause like, “Well, guess we settled it.”

But then I noticed Misaki staring hard at me.

When our eyes met, she flashed me a full-beam smile and a double peace sign. 

If it just meant “Let’s do our best for the culture festival!” it would’ve been adorably sweet.

But with yesterday’s rooftop showdown still fresh in my memory, all I could interpret was:

“The battlefield has been chosen. Now, you and I shall duel to the death.”

She a berserker or what?