You Girls Are Way Too Obsessed With A Lone Wolf Like Me - Volume 4 Chapter 3: Misaki Karin Wants to Win Against The Lone Wolf

Volume 4 Chapter 3: Misaki Karin Wants to Win Against The Lone Wolf

The music you want to listen to changes depending on your mood or the environment. It’s not an exaggeration to say that this applies to everyone. After all, it’s something that an introvert would confidently claim, so it must be true.

To lift my spirits, I listen to an upbeat tune, or before going to sleep, I listen to nostalgic songs. Sometimes I play a Ghibli BGM medley to help with my study sessions.

Just like now, when I’m riding the morning train, the songs I prefer are calm and slow-tempo. The sight of the clear blue sky and the gentle slopes of Rokutsuka mountain slowly moving through the car window makes me feel at peace.

“Today, the sky is blue again,” or “The mountains are green today.”

It’s a solitary moment where I appreciate the everyday things that are often taken for granted. It feels so good. Too good.

It’s not so much that time flies by, but more that it feels like a blink of an eye—before I know it, I’ve arrived at Otozuka station.

As I pass through the ticket gate, the next song starts playing lightly.

Yeah… The music from the local artist is truly a source of morning energy.

It makes me feel like I’m ready to take on the day at my own pace. Even the sight of Misaki chatting with the locals no longer bothers me.

Ah, what a peaceful start to the day.

While waiting at the crosswalk in front of the station, I hear a voice:

“Hey… We made eye contact didn’t we?”

“…”

Is she a Pokémon trainer?

Out of breath, Misaki catches up with me, giving me a serious look as she glares at me.

Don’t make such a scary face.

The music I want to hear changes depending on the situation and environment.

“Hey” as we finish our brief exchange, I say, “Hey Siri, play the music I want to hear when I feel like people should understand me… Hmmm, Death Metal, maybe?”

“Oh, your way of brushing it off is too unique!”

“It’s AI, give it some slack.”

“What you can’t forgive is you!”

After Misaki grabbed the microphone-side earphones from me, she ordered, “Hey Siri, stop the music.”

It seems she’s never talked to Siri before, since she looks so pleased that the music stopped. I, too, feel a little pleased, but I’d prefer her to step back a little.

When the light turns green, we start walking. Normally, Misaki would be greeting other students at this time, but since we’re 30 minutes early for school, there’s almost no one else around.

Misaki seems to be thinking the same thing, saying, “Himemiya-kun, you’re unusually early today. Hmm… did you just do your morning duty? Or are you going to read at your secret base?”

“Sorry, not quite. Since it’s warm today, I’m planning to read on the bench in front of the tennis club courts.”

“Ah, so that’s it!” Misaki giggles. She seems satisfied just with the fact that I’ll be reading.

“Maybe I should have listened to the radio,” I think to myself, realizing I’ve lost the battle.

“So, Misaki, why are you so early?”

“Here’s the challenge: Why, indeed♪”

“I see.”

“Can I ask what exactly do you see?”

Nope.

And then, the hint suddenly comes.

“Ah, good morning!”

The grumpy look she had earlier is gone. Misaki waves cheerfully at a group of elderly people coming from the opposite direction and greets them.

“Where are you all headed? A walk?” “Thanks for the candy!” “Wow, your grandkid can stand now!”

Her wide circle of acquaintances never fails to impress me.

“Heh… Misaki has really grown up,” I think as she grabs my left arm tightly, not letting me walk ahead. It’s the first time I’ve wanted to detach my arm.

After lightening the mood with a casual chat, Misaki pulls out a stack of papers from her bag.

“Take this, and treat yourself to something delicious,” she says, handing me a few bills.

But no, she doesn’t actually do that.

“By the way, there’s a cultural festival coming soon! Come visit us! Our class is running a maid café♪”

It seems like she’s giving me invitations to the cultural festival.

Come to think of it, I remember Misaki collecting extra invitations. She had a lot more than anyone else—this means that perhaps, the people in our school don’t have as many friends as they appear to. Is that a good or bad thing?

But, giving a maid café invitation to the elderly… Is that okay? Then again, Misaki knows these people’s personalities well enough.

“The thought of visiting my alma mater gets me so excited!”

“I want to share pancakes!”

“Can you mix in some blood-sugar-lowering medicine instead of sugar?”

It’s already clear they’re all set to go. They even declare they’ll go with their gateball buddies.

“I’m looking forward to it! See you there!” Misaki says, and with that, the grip on my left arm finally loosens. Goodbye, warmth.

At this point, I’ve figured it out.

“So you’re coming in early to hand out invitations?”

“Correct♪”

It’s a bit over-the-top with the celebratory tone, but okay.

“I’m doing my best to win against you and lead my class to victory!”

“You’re at it again…”

It seems like the more time passes, the more Misaki’s rivalry with me grows.

The cultural festival is only a week away. If she gets any stronger, I might have to laugh it off. I can only hope that we don’t start seeing food fights three days from now.

I wonder how she interprets my disbelief.

“Of course, I’m not handing them out just to win, okay? It’s also a chance for the people who’ve been helping me to enjoy themselves.”

Misaki, despite saying all that, continues handing out invitation tickets to shop owners she passes, students from other schools, and even groups of elementary school kids. She’s not handing them out indiscriminately like tissue papers, but instead greeting and chatting with each person individually before giving them a ticket. It’s clear that she knows everyone and considers them friends.

Of course, five tickets aren’t enough.

She’s a greedy one. She wants to beat me, but at the same time, she’s genuinely determined to make her class win, and she wants to make sure the people who’ve always helped her have fun too.

I think I’ve already lost. I’m totally no match for her.

Misaki, as if recalling something, takes her smartphone out of her pocket.

“Wow, it’s already this late.”

“? We still have plenty of time before school starts.”

“I have a meeting with the Quiz Research Club today. Of course, it’s about the cultural festival.”

“…Huh?”

“I’m going to be the MC for the quiz tournament event.”

So that’s why she had been inserting quiz-related remarks into the conversation.

“As an MC, I’ll be promoting our class! ‘Which class is running a traditional maid café where cute maids serve fluffy pancakes and chewy macarons? Is it Class [insert class]?’” she says, as if she’s got it all planned out.

Does she want to be seen as a strategist? She starts laughing mischievously, but her innate goodness shines through so much that she doesn’t even give off a villain vibe.

By the way,

“I’m grateful for the promotion, but isn’t the reward not matching the amount of work you’re putting in?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Even if the effort-to-reward ratio is about 5 to 1, I’m happy to help the class. It’s a bargain.”

“You’re like a Calpis drink.”

“I prefer it with a stronger 4 to 1 mix.”

I don’t know about that.

On top of all that, Misaki already has a lot of work to do with making costumes and preparing snacks for the festival.

Now she’s adding even more tasks to her plate? This is getting out of hand.

Time is running out, and Misaki, who’s now behind me, starts pushing me forward.

“No, I’m fine walking on foot—”

“DASH, DASH♪”

While running, I think to myself, “I guess I should start doing something that actually looks like I’m on the executive committee.”

※ ※ ※

After-school at the private room.

Just as a warrior needs a brief rest, a worker also needs time to rest.

Today, after school, our class’s cultural festival preparations are on break. This is the result of carefully planned schedules, and I would say it’s the fruit of the whole class’s desperate effort to win.

The same goes for work, studying, sports, and games. It’s not just about throwing yourself into it without thought. Resting properly when it’s time to rest and preparing for what’s next is the most efficient way.

That’s why, right now, I’m thoroughly enjoying a “spot the difference” puzzle I got from a family restaurant.

What is this “spot the difference”? It’s super hard!

Next to me, the person battling with the two illustrations is Kurashiki, who handed me the puzzle, or rather, shoved it onto me saying, “The rest is up to you!” While I’m struggling with the puzzle, she’s enjoying a teen magazine.

With her sharp eyes wide open, she’s engrossed in an article titled “Hidden Date Spots to Visit in Kansai with Your Boyfriend”. A boyfriend she doesn’t even have.

Kurashiki reaches for the homemade donuts Misaki made, which are sitting on the plate.

With a slight grimace, she’s about to stuff her second donut of the day into her mouth, but—

“…Hmm?”

She seems to pause for a moment, deep in thought, stopping her hand and mouth just short of moving. Misaki and Hatori, sitting across from her, both tilt their heads and look on, “?” in unison.

After a moment of silence, Kurashiki slowly puts the donut back onto the plate.

Next, she wipes her fingers with a wet tissue.

Then, with her now clean fingers, she points sharply.

At Misaki.

“Karin is a terrifying girl!”

“M-Me?”

“Oto-kore’s biggest rival—you’re trying to butter up my weight, aren’t you!? No wonder there’s been more snack time and desserts after meals lately! No wonder the donuts and tapioca drinks have been so delicious!”

…Here I was wondering what she’s going to say, is that it?

“There’s a limit to how ridiculous an accusation can be! I’m not plotting anything like that! I just brought test samples of the sweets and drinks we’re planning to serve at the maid café!”

Misaki protests, but then realizes a simple truth.

“Now that I think about it… Ruri has been eating and drinking a lot of it…”

“……”

Kurashiki is rendered speechless.

It hits way harder being called out by a friend than noticing it yourself.

“I’m sorry, Ruri. I didn’t mean to say you’re getting fa—”

“D-Definitely not getting fat, okay!? The scale’s just acting up, that’s all!!”

“…Let’s just, like, go exercise?”

At Misaki’s brutally reasonable suggestion, Kurashiki snaps her gaze away. She clearly doesn’t like the sound of that.

Unluckily for her, Hatori ends up right in the path of that diverted gaze. And since she’s mid-bite into a donut, she looks supremely guilty.

There’s no escaping Kurashiki’s clingy wrath.

“You’re thinking it doesn’t matter for you ‘cause all the nutrition goes straight to your boobs, aren’t you～～～!!”

“I—I wasn’t thinking that!”

Kurashiki dives under the long table and launches a surprise headbutt from below, aimed straight at Hatori. It’s reminiscent of a massive man-eating shark attacking from the depths.

…Though really, she’s just being a hyperactive perv.

“Ruri, don’t smush your face into my chest…!”

“I know, okay!? Only middle-aged uncles get laughs with zero-calorie theories! When a teenage girl says it, they just snort at her!”

“Ugh… You’re not listening to me at all…”

“The only thing that can soothe my rage right now is Erena’s chest!!”

Kurashiki swims through the vast Hatori bust like a sea goddess, only for Misaki to finally snap, “That’s enough, stop it already!”

But alas, the High Priestess of Harassment is immune to such attacks.

Eventually, Misaki turns to me for aid.

“Himemiya-kun, help me convince Ruri!”

There’s nothing I can really do.

Which is exactly why I must say this:

“Kurashiki.”

“Nya~ni sa?”

“I still can’t find the last mistake.”

“You’re way too laid back!”

“Himemiya-kun, you’re too laid back!”

“Himemiya’s just… too laid back!”

Well, aren’t they just the best of friends.

Kurashiki’s irritation teeters on the edge of full-blown meltdown.

“How can you be casually doing a spot-the-difference when a maiden is having an existential crisis over here!?”

“You’re the one who dumped it on me in the first place.”

“Case! By! Case!!”

Ah yes, the most convenient phrase ever.

To cool off, Kurashiki gulps down her tapioca drink full of coconut milk like her life depends on it. Should I even bother commenting?

“Jeez. You can’t even spot the changes in a static image, so of course you wouldn’t notice the tiny changes in me! And this was your perfect chance to score some points!”

“Your hair ribbon’s a different color than usual, right?”

“Hanya? You noticed?”

“We’re in the same classroom every day. It’s kind of normal to pick up on that.”

「「「……」」」

The three girls fall completely silent for a moment.

Then huddle together for an emergency discussion.

“There it is. Himemiya-kun’s natural charm strikes again.”

“Yeah. That’s seriously not fair. Total cheat code.”

“If he actually tried, wouldn’t he be more popular than Shuntarou?”

…Are they praising me or roasting me? Y’all aren’t so normal yourselves either.

“Alright!” Kurashiki, who had been clinging to Hatori, suddenly jumps to her feet.

She’s not getting ready to go home, though—

“Let’s see if Himemiya’s chest can heal my wounded heart—”

“No way!! Mine’s fine!!”

Kurashiki, who was just standing, suddenly dives back into Hatori’s chest with ridiculous force. And thus, squiiiish—her face sinks deep into Hatori’s ample bosom.

There it is. Hatori’s signature move: the Paisen Shikatame.

No matter how dangerous or wild the shark, it’s powerless before a raging sea.

“I-It was just a joke! A joke! Don’t press down on the back of my head so hard! I’m gonna break—achczvafdcva… kaz～～～……!”

Kurashiki Jaws has perished.

Honestly, isn’t this a happy ending? The noisy one finally went quiet.

But more importantly—

“You guys are entering OtoKore, huh.”

Misaki nodded with a cheerful, upbeat energy, clearly hyped about the cultural festival.

“Well, it’s a rare event. And when even the student council president and his fans bow their heads and beg me, how could I say no?”

I can already picture the desperate faces of Deyashiki kaichou and his fan club.

Hatori shook her head softly—apparently, she wasn’t participating.

“I… I’d get too embarrassed and nervous…”

Hatori, nodding shyly, flushed just at the thought of it. In an attempt to hide her expression, she clutched Kurashiki—who was sitting upright on her lap like a teddy bear… or maybe a Chucky doll—even tighter. Still KO’d, Kurashiki squeaked out a tiny “gueh…!” under the pressure to her stomach. She sounded like one of those squeaky chicken toys.

“Erena, Himemiya-kun, cheer us on, okay?” Misaki already seemed to be in full-on festival mode. For someone who lives to be in the spotlight, the word “nervous” probably isn’t in her dictionary.

I wonder if “fatigue” is in there, though.

“Hey, Misaki.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Don’t you think you’re cramming way too much into your schedule?”

Just looking at her, I had to ask.

She was probably working on a pattern design for a maid outfit. The long desk was lined with references and a sketchbook filled with detailed drawings of blouse parts, skirts, and accessories.

And that wasn’t even all. Besides being MC for the quiz research club, she was probably doing backup work for other events too. There were piles of scripts and drafts from the movie club, drama club, and other classes. Lines meant for her MC, narration, and acting parts were highlighted and sticky-noted all over. Et cetera, et cetera…

The workload was so overwhelming it sent a chill down my spine. Any regular person would’ve collapsed by now—no doubt a case for workers’ comp.

But Misaki isn’t just any regular person. Our common sense doesn’t apply to her.

With no sign of weariness, she gave a carefree smile and said—

“I’m fine! I can totally keep going♪”

She said it like she still had two more transformations left in her, and any minute now she was about to start glowing gold all over.

Her friend Hatori, clearly worried about her from the start, gently asked—

“Karin… Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?”

“You worry too much, Erena! You’ve got tons of responsibilities as a festival committee member too, right? You need to stay focused on that, okay?”

“O-okay…”

“Thanks for worrying about me,” Misaki smiled, and even though Hatori still looked uneasy, she managed a small smile in return.

When a flawless superhuman like Misaki says she’s okay, well… it’s hard to argue.

It’s ironic how having no flaws becomes a flaw in itself.

After finishing up some of her tasks, Misaki started gathering her things.

“Guess it’s about time. I’ve got a photo shoot and a script reading coming up, so I’m heading out.”

What is she, a popular actress?

“Not sure when I’ll be done, so you guys can go home ahead without me, okay?” she said with a farewell wave, then faded out of the room.

“…Do you really think Karin’s okay?”

“Who knows. A regular person can’t really understand a genius.”

“You’re not exactly a normal person either, Himemiya,” said Hatori, treating me like some kind of weirdo. She clutched her Chucky doll closer, mumbling like she was trying to fill the awkward silence.

“…Do you think a normal person can’t help a genius?”

“If we’re just talking about whether it’s possible or not, then yeah, they can. But realistically, they might only be able to help a little, like comfort-level stuff. More often than not, they might just get in the way.”

“…Yeah. You’re right.”

It’s true. And considering the person in question is saying she doesn’t need help, the chances of being a nuisance are probably even higher.

That’s why I think genius Misaki doesn’t need help.

“But,”

“Hm?”

“Does a friend need a reason to help another friend?”

Hatori’s eyes widened. “…Ah,” she whispered.

You’ve still got a ways to go, huh, Hatori. For someone like me, who usually prefers solitude, to be the one talking about friendship—only now did it click for her.

“I think she’d probably prefer being treated like a friend over being treated like a genius, too.”

“…Yeah. You’re right, Himemiya.”

Hatori nodded deeply. That negative cloud on her face started to lift, replaced by something more determined, welling up from within.

“Himemiya. Can we think together about what kind of work I can do as part of the organizing committee?”

“Hm? I thought you were going to help Misaki?”

“If I do my job well, it’ll lead to helping Karin too, in its own way.”

Supporting her from the shadows… That’s just like Hatori, to arrive at an answer like that.

“Yahooo! I’ll also help.”

Kurashiki, somehow resurrected from the dead. The way she suddenly came back to life, like she couldn’t stand being left out, just reminded me again—yep, she’s really their close friend.

“Now that I’ve risen from the grave, you’ve got nothing to worry about! So, Himemiya! What should we do?”

“Why are you dumping this all on me again…?”

“My internal supercomputer is telling me: ‘Letting Himemiya figure it out is the most efficient way!’”

I’d like to teach Kurashiki the word delegation.

Actually—why do these two always act like it’s a given that I should help out too?

…Well, can’t be helped. I am part of the organizing committee.

If Amami-sensei finds out I was just messing around with a spot-the-difference puzzle while the other two were actually working, I’d be permanently banned from the private room. No doubt.

This must be how office workers feel when they’re forced to come in on their day off.

Goodbye, weekend.

“…Alright then, how about we make some promotional posters?”

“Promotional posters?”

“Yeah. If we stick one up on our classroom door, people walking by will notice. Plus, it works as a little ‘thank you’ for Misaki helping out with other classes and clubs. If we ask them nicely, we might be able to put posters up in those places too. That’d help pull in a lot of people on the day.”

“That’s genius!”

As expected, those two are in perfect sync. And not just with words—their sparkly faces even leaned in together.

“We’ll need a photo with some impact, right?” Kurashiki said while stroking her chin, staring at Hatori like she was licking her with her eyes.

“Erena, how about stripping down for the good of our class?”

“If we put up a poster like that, our class might be the only one that gets its festival event canceled…”

“Oyoyo~?”

“W-what?”

“I never said anything about making a sexy poster, you know?”

“!”

“So, what kind of poster were you planning to make, hmm~?”

Hatori’s face flushed bright red, while Kurashiki, clearly still bitter over getting knocked out earlier, took this chance to get some payback. Seriously, who else but Kurashiki could thumb-tap someone’s chest sixteen times like it’s a mini-game?

Apparently not done teasing, Kurashiki even turned her attention to me.

“Don’t look so jealous, Himemiya~♪”

“What’s wrong? You want Erena to strip down to her skin too? Or maybe… me? Or something~! NyahahaHAHA!”

“Both, maybe.”

“…Nya!?”

“Eh…!?”

Kurashiki, who’d been cackling like a maniac, and Hatori, who’d been a flustered mess, both froze in stunned silence.

Kurashiki’s got no defense at all when she’s caught off guard.

“Y-you serious!?”

“Dead serious. A double feature of Kurashiki and Hatori, each having ‘taken off a layer,’ would stop not just eyes, but feet too. That’s how strong it’d be.”

Hatori asked nervously, “Would… would even you stop to look, Himemiya?”

“Yeah. If I didn’t know what was going on, I’d probably stop.”

Even someone like me, not the emotional type, saying I’d stop made the two of them exchange shocked glances.

“Obviously, I’m not gonna force you. If it’s too much, we’ll go with another idea.”

I’m not a monster. If they wanted a different plan, I’d reconsider.

They still looked flustered, but then—

“…I’ll do my best!”

“Alright! I’ll take one for the team!”

Choosing friendship over pride or modesty. It’s not just about surface-level niceties—they’re genuine friends, which makes that resolve all the more admirable.

And while I wasn’t trying to ruin the mood… they might be jumping the gun a bit.

Hatori took off her sweater. Her dress shirt beneath it ballooned with her, well, assets, standing in stark contrast to her normally reserved demeanor. And she didn’t stop there. Her fingers reached for her collar buttons. One… two… and then she said,

“S-sorry, Himemiya… This is as far as I can go… just the third button…”

Another one getting ahead of herself.

Kurashiki tugged down her high socks—right leg, then left—letting them slide slowly off her legs. Her fair yet toned legs were boldly exposed, and perhaps to distract herself from the embarrassment, her toes twitched, opening and closing nervously. Then, with both hands pinching the hem of her skirt, she slowly began to lift it, keeping it at a dangerously short length where her shorts were just barely out of view, and said:

“This is my limit too… Any more and you’ll see everything, so please, have mercy…”

With the most awkward, forced smiles ever, the two of them looked at me and said, “If you’re gonna take the picture, hurry up and do it.”

They even struck poses. Real pros, huh.

“Uh, yeah. Hate to break your momentum, but… We can’t use poses in that state of yours for the poster.”

“…Eh?”

You two were the ones talking big just a moment ago.

I brushed past the slightly erotic state that Hatori and Kurashiki had gotten themselves into, and opened the locker behind them.

Inside were several maid outfits, already completed by Misaki.

“We’re advertising a maid café, remember? Of course we’re gonna take the photos in maid outfits.”

「「……」」

Having now misunderstood the situation twice, Hatori covered her face with both hands, letting out a mortified moan. Her shirt was boldly open, making her cleavage spill out more than intended.

Kurashiki, who had basically fallen into the pitfall she dug herself, gritted her teeth in shame. She grabbed her skirt tightly—so tightly, in fact, that her shorts ended up peeking out just a little.

You two are at peak ero levels right now.

“So, what’s it gonna be? You willing to help me out here?”

“……We,”

“We?”

“We’re going to change so go out”

“We’re going to change so get out”

Thanks for literally taking one for the team.

※　※　※

The next morning, the area around our classroom entrance was absolute chaos.

Everywhere you looked—people, people, people.

Muttsuri-san, muttsuri-san, and even if you skip one, another muttsuri-san. (T/N: Closet pervert.)

“Who are these adorable maids!? Is 1st Year Class B hiring rental girlfriends or what!?”

“It’s Hatori-san and Ruri! That’s not just ‘looks good’—they’re perfect for it!”

“H-Hatori-san… in a maid outfit…? So precious…!”

“These two are already S-rank, and you’ve got Karin-chan and Hina and the others waiting in the wings!?”

“B-Class’s maid café is gonna be insane! Gotta line up first thing in the morning!”

Did someone issue a katana ban or something? Despite the posters only going up minutes ago, the crowd of thirsty guys was already heated and massive.

Back at my desk, I decided to appreciate one of the extra posters I printed.

The heading reads:

“1st Year Class B – We’re running a Maid Café!”

It lists the menu and services—simple enough. But don’t let that fool you.

What makes it lethal are the two stunningly beautiful maids printed big and bold across it. The two girls are side-by-side, adding a heart for some love injection.

Good call on asking the photography club for help. They didn’t hold back—DSLRs, backdrop cloth, LED lighting—full pro setup.

More than anything, only those pros could get those two to smile for the camera. Without them, I’d never have caught that on film—er, digitally.

Their only requested payment? A copy of the final poster. Fair deal.

…Though I did get a little concerned when they started prepping frames for them.

Noticing me staring at the poster, Hatori and Kurashiki came over.

“Hi-Himemiya! Don’t stare so much… It’s embarrassing…”

Gone was the cheerful smile from the photo. Hatori nervously fidgeted with her fingers and tried to hide her presence behind a pair of glasses. Futile effort.

Kurashiki, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed—maybe even more cheerful than usual.

“Nyahahaha♪ With me and Erena, there’s no doubt we’ll get senkyaku banrai! Customers for days!”

…Yeah, maybe she is more cheerful than usual.

As Kurashiki laughed loudly, the crowd in front of the poster recognized them, calling their names and waving.

“Uugh… I’m not gonna be able to leave the classroom for a while…”

“What are you saying, Erena? Obviously we’re going to strut around during lunch break! Let’s go soak up the praise together!”

“No way in hell!”

Hatori tried to pull out a mask from her pocket, but—

“Won’t let you!”

Kurashiki grabbed her chest in a dramatic full-body tackle. Naturally, she also grabbed the hearts of everyone watching.

Hatori, seriously—if you entered the Otozuka Collection, you’d go pretty far.

Anyway, I’d like some peace and quiet now. Can you take your flirting elsewhere?

“…Again.”

“Huh?”

She’d been awfully quiet, and I’d totally forgotten about her.

“Again, Himemiya-kun took the lead…!”

Misaki, standing right in front of me, looked visibly frustrated. Clenching both fists, she glared at me and grumbled,

“Uuuu…!”

She looked like she was about to cast Mahōsenkō or something. Kinda terrifying.

“You made the poster before I even noticed, and it looks amazing too! You totally caught everyone’s hearts…! I’m so frustrated! I am wholeheartedly frustrated!”

I don’t care about your wholeheartedness.

“And also!”

“What now?”

“I wanted in on such a fun event too…”

“You’re always up and down. This is your fault for being so busy.”

“I know, but it’s one of those things you’ll totally remember years from now, like: ‘Wow, we were so young back then~’”

“If you want to be part of the memory that bad, why not paste your photo in the top-right corner of the poster?”

“Are you treating me like an absent student in the yearbook!? That’s such a sad memory!”

Then just give it up.

Hatori came in clutch.

“Calm down a bit, okay?”

She gently placed a hand on Misaki’s shoulder, still barking and whining.

“I know I’m being played by this guy… And I also know he doesn’t even see the way I’m giving it my all… L-look! He’s already trying to tune us out and plug in his earphones!”

Well, yeah. I wanna listen to my radio.

Before I do, I stuffed the poster back into the envelope and handed it to Misaki.

“Here. You can have this one. Now go.”

“Huh? Why give it to me?”

Kurashiki, our reliable spokesperson, puffed out her chest and answered:

“Because Karin helps out with other classes and clubs a lot, we printed extras so she can use them for bartering! Himemiya said!”

“…! Going so far from worry of me.”

Misaki’s frustration softened. But she knew if she smiled here, it would mean defeat. So she furrowed her brows with all her might—even though her lips refused to stop curving upward.

She took the envelope from me and declared:

“I won’t lose, no matter what!”

Looks like our battle will continue.

Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if it just got cancelled already.

With the poster clutched dearly to her chest, Misaki marched off toward the lockers.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Now, back to my earphones… or so I thought—

Misaki came back?

And then, she bowed her head to us and said:

“Thanks for the poster! I’ll make good use of it!”

She came all the way back just to say that?

What a good girl, seriously.

※ ※ ※

Only four days left until the cultural festival. October’s almost over, and the blazing summer sun is starting to feel nostalgic. The sky beyond the closed windows is a pale blue, with a strangely calm and gentle atmosphere hanging in the air.

But inside the classroom?

The once-dull white walls are now covered in soft pink wallpaper. The plain curtains have been replaced with frilly ones that bring to mind a pure white wedding dress. Hanging from the ceiling are lamps shaped like animal paws, and lined up atop the lockers are rows of plushies—small animals that crank up the fairy-tale, fancy vibe even more.

There’s nothing left that even pretends to be a school. No matter how you look at it, it’s full-on maid café mode.

Right now, we’re technically in modern Japanese class. But having a lesson in such a sugary-sweet atmosphere is, well… surreal. Even Amami-sensei reading from a piece of classic literature sounds more like she’s reciting a thank-you letter to her parents. …Though maybe that’s always been the case.

“Then, Misaki-san. Could you please continue the reading—huh? …Misaki-san?”

Sensei tilted her head with a koten, and everyone followed her gaze.

We all froze in place. Me included.

Because Misaki was asleep.

She still had her pen tightly gripped, but her head had completely surrendered to gravity. The image of her completely worn out called to mind the final scene of “Yabuki Joe.”

No one could process it—the perfect honor student pulling a sabotage move like this? Some classmates started worrying, asking things like “Is she feeling unwell?” or “Maybe there’s a reason for this…?” But from where I was sitting, I could clearly hear her soft breathing.

Just being a top student doesn’t mean you get a free pass to nap in class. Amami-sensei silently leapt out of her metaphorical bath bucket.

She’s the type of teacher who usually makes Tarao-style sound effects with every step like in Sazae-san, but this time? Perfect silent walk. Her face looked weirdly gleeful… probably because she was about to scare someone and it was totally allowed.

She reached Misaki’s desk and, raising her arms in a triumphant victory pose that screamed “I am justice” (or something?), unleashed her righteous fury.

“Hey! We’re in the middle of class!”

“!!!”

Misaki’s shoulders jolted at the zero-distance scolding, her spine snapping straight like a rod.

“S-Sorry—…huh?”

Her body had gotten up, but her brain hadn’t.

“…A lost little girl, maybe?”

“I’m your teacher, you know!?”

Getting scolded only to end up making the teacher cry—how poetic. Poor Amami-sensei.

As the class burst into laughter and Misaki realized what had happened, she finally grasped the situation and bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry! I was half-asleep!”

Ikari, ever the joker, shouted: “Just how excited is she for the festival!?”, teasing her. Misaki didn’t even deny it, just kept smiling sheepishly.

But… it wasn’t excitement that made her sleep-deprived. Or at least, if that were part of it, it would barely make up even ten percent of the reason.

Hatori and Kurashiki, who knew that Misaki was mainly just overworked, watched her with worried eyes. They even gave me the look—like, “What do you think, Himemiya?”

Of course, Hatori and Kurashiki weren’t the only ones who noticed.

During break time, while Misaki continued working on the remaining maid outfits instead of resting, Namikawa and Urogase came over to talk.

“Karin, you should take a nap during break. You’re gonna get sleepy again in class.”

“I’m totally fine! I made up for the sleep during class just now!”

“You’re not a phone, y’know. You can’t just recharge like that in five minutes.”

“Here, I’ll attach the buttons,” Urogase offered, reaching for the costume. But as expected, Misaki didn’t budge.

“Thanks, but really, I’m okay. Besides, attaching small stuff like snap buttons is tricky with your nails, right?”

Urogase glanced at her fingertips, noticing her fancy nail chips and let out a surprised “Ah.”

“I could just peel them off and—”

“Nope, nope. Today’s your rare day off from work, right? Gotta enjoy it. Keep your work life and private life separate—that’s important.”

“That’s rich coming from you, y’know…”

“Aaand done! I finished sewing the buttons while we were chatting ♪”

Even as they talked, Misaki kept up her ‘see, I’m totally fine!’ energy. Urokase and Namikawa exchanged glances that said “This girl is hopeless…” and quickly backed off, realizing that just talking to her was adding to her workload.

They returned to their normie friend group with a shake of their heads. Watasumi and Natsugoshi just shrugged helplessly and gave me the look—yep, the template stare that meant “You deal with this.”

※ ※ ※

Alone at the café WELL after school.

Tablet and keyboard—the ultimate combo. Like giving an demon an iron club.

You could get by with just the touchscreen, but the boost in efficiency is on a different level. No wonder office workers and digital nomads swear by their laptops.

There’s a lot you don’t realize until you try. The first time I read a web manga on a tablet, I remember thinking, “Wow, 7.9 inches is the perfect size for this!” No wonder my old man’s addicted too.

Just as I finished typing and leaned back for a breather—

“Thanks for waiting, Haruichi-kun.”

“Ah. Thanks.”

As always, the timing was strangely perfect—almost soothing. Koino-san, the café’s poster girl, brought me a refill of coffee.

But then, something strange.

She placed the coffee on the table, then started staring hard at my tablet and keyboard, like she was trying to figure something out.

After a few moments of thoughtful humming, she suddenly lit up with an “Ah!” and flashed a bright, inspired smile.

“What a smug look—classic Smug Mac right there.”

Even I almost spilled the coffee I had in my mouth.

“Kimika-san… That phrase is usually said with sarcasm, you know?”

“Eh, really?”

“‘I thought it sounded cool, though,’” she replied at her own pace, probably thinking it was some kind of compliment. Even though we’re basically the same age.

And that carefree vibe of hers just kept going.

“But, like, I’ve never actually seen someone do a real smug face in real life, you know? Even if I somehow managed to strike the ultimate smug face pose myself, I’m not sure I’d even know if it was the real thing.”

“You make it sound like baseball.”

Imagine a 160 km/h smug face fastball coming straight at you, or maybe a huge, swerving doya-gao sinker. I’d want to smash it to bits with a perfect hit, no questions asked.

“Yeah, smug face really does feel like something that exists more in manga or anime. Though I do see Kurashiki or Misaki doing it sometimes.”

“Umm… like this, maybe?”

Kimika-san presented her idea of a smug face. She opened her usually calm, droopy eyes as wide as she could and slightly jutted her chin forward. But the lips she weirdly pursed together managed to be both annoying and cute at the same time.

“How is it? Am I smug facing properly?”

“Well… maybe not quite smug face, but it was a nice little break.”

“Kids who tease their elders get marked for mischief~”

Setting her tray down on the table, Kimika-san leaned in real close. “Are there any naughty children heeere~?” she said while tousling my hair, then started tickling my neck with a “Uri-uri~♪”. The light fragrance from her hair and around her neck was subtle, pairing perfectly with the bitter scent of coffee. If I kept breathing it in, I’d end up getting totally wrapped up in it. This wasn’t a punishment—this was totally reward time.

…Was that a hint of sweet body lotion I smelled, or am I imagining things?

“～～～♪ I can’t believe I get to tease Haruichi-san like this—it’s like a dream come true♪”

Nope, not my imagination. And amidst the chaos, even Shirahoshi was joining in on this so-called “mischief” that was just blatant harassment. Poking my cheek, rubbing up against my upper arm…

“Kimika-san, Kimika-san! Does hugging Haruichi-san count as mischief too?”

“It sooo does~♪”

“It absolutely does not.”

I tried shooting them a withering glare that said “get back to work,” but both of them just kept smiling all goofy like nothing was wrong.

“Haruichi-kun is so much like the kitty I used to have. It’s healing just being around him~ He won’t run away, but he gives you this super grumpy face that’s just unbearably cute♪”

“I totally get the cat vibes! He’s all cold and aloof, but that just makes it more addicting! And when he does show a little kindness, it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat!”

““Riiight~♪”” they squealed together in perfect harmony—a senior and junior duo whose chemistry was undeniable. They could totally go toe-to-toe with any close-knit trio.

Lately, it even felt like they were entering “sisters” territory—and honestly, I didn’t mind that.

Didn’t mind it at all… except for one thing:

Don’t drag me into that storm with you.

“Sorry, we were just trying to help you relax, but looks like we’re the ones who relaxed instead.”

Kimika-san clapped her hands together with a big smile, completely aware of my breaking point.

Shirahoshi was still clinging to my arm. Her face was close. Her chest was definitely pressing against me.

“What were you doing on the tablet?”

“I was re-organizing data from cafés and coffee shops I’ve been to.”

Basically, my own private version of something like Gurunavi or Tabelog.

I record the atmosphere inside and outside the shop, coffee taste, access details, whether it’s a good place to chill alone… stuff like that. It’s one of my small hobbies, using a template in Excel to log the info one shop at a time.

Other people’s reviews are just a reference. In the end, you don’t really know unless you experience it yourself. It’s like they say—hyakubun wa ikken ni shikazu—seeing is believing.

Even if someone else says it’s bad, if I think it’s good, then that’s all that matters.

Same goes for novels, movies, whatever. If I enjoy it, that’s enough.

If the naked king says he’s wearing clothes, then hey—let him go full-teen.

…Setting aside criminal or civil law, of course.

Shirahoshi, ever sweet on me, applauded with sparkly eyes. “As expected of you~!”

But she didn’t stop at just praise this time.

“I’m relieved~♪”

“? Relieved about what?”

“Since I was worried whether Haruichi-san’s class was doing okay with the cultural festival preparations…”

“Haa.”

The only one not getting it is me, and Koino-san kindly explains on Shirahoshi’s behalf.

“A few days ago, Karin-chan came to our shop, and she was working on the cultural festival stuff all the way until closing. So we were talking—Arisu-chan and I—like, ‘Will they be okay for the festival?'”

“Ahh…”

So that’s what this is about. Makes sense. If they saw how much work Karin was doing, it’s no wonder they ended up thinking our class must be totally behind on prep.

I can easily picture Misaki calmly telling the two, “It’s fine.”

“…Could it be that things aren’t going well?”

“Nah, we’re pretty much done with all the prep.”

“♪ I’m so relieved~”

“The only thing left is whether Misaki can finish making all the maid uniforms in time.”

“Wait, I shouldn’t be relieved at all!?”

Watching the ojousama panic is surprisingly entertaining.

“Haruichi-kun, the festival’s this Saturday, right? Do you think Karin-chan’s actually gonna make it in time?”

“From what I’ve seen, she might make it… but it’s gonna be reaaally close.”

“For how close it is, you look surprisingly calm…”

“People have always said I was the type to not scare easily, ever since I was little.”

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

Koino-san’s comebacks are pretty refreshing.

“W-What should we do!?”

Shirahoshi spirals into full-blown panic at the thought of her friend Misaki in danger. The quiet hands she’d placed on my arm turn into chaotic ones, going full mogi mogi(her B hitting his arm sfx)-fruit mode and shaking my arm like crazy.

“This is no time to enjoy being alone! Let’s go help Karin-san!”

“Nope.”

“T-That rejection was way too fast… Though I suppose your ability to give an immediate no is also one of Haruichi-san’s charming traits…”

That’s just like you, huh.

“Just so you know, I’m saying not not only because it’s a hassle.”

“So hassle is part of it…”

Koino-san lets out a wry laugh, while Shirahoshi hits me with a burning gaze that screams “Explain yourself!”

I don’t mind if they want to lend an ear. Whether it’s at a 90-degree angle or full-on bowing, I’ll tell them straight. The reason is simple.

“There’ve been plenty of similar cases before. But this time, Misaki isn’t in trouble, and she’s not asking for help from anyone.”

If someone wants to fight solo, reaching out to help them is basically sacrilege—at least from the perspective of a fellow loner like me. It goes against my whole identity.

It’s one thing if Hatori or Kurashiki lends her a hand—but if I were to do it directly, that’s a whole different matter.

Put simply, it’s like a game.

You’re playing solo, struggling through the challenges, even the game overs—then some random person swoops in and beats the boss or clears that tough level for you. I’d delete my save data on the spot and start over.

And if someone tried to help me and failed, I wouldn’t even know where to look.

Imagine you finally got an S-rank, only to wake up the next morning and see it dropped to B. Think about how that would feel. Even if it’s your little sister, you’d seriously wanna smack her. Not with ink, but with tears on the floor.

“I know exactly how much Misaki is pouring her youth into this cultural festival. Precisely because I know, I refuse to take some half-assed action just because ‘everyone else asked me to.’”

And with that, I sip my coffee.

The end, in a kamishibai sort of way. But of course, Shirahoshi won’t let it end there.

“You really have no intention of helping Karin-san…?”

“None.”

“Not even a tiny bit?”

“Not a speck of dust.”

“Not even a speck of dust!?”

Why are you mad? Her cheeks puff up like a balloon as she shouts, “You could at least have like one millimeter of feeling!”

Still staring at me with her cheeks puffed out, not letting go of my arm. She’s clearly saying, “I won’t let go unless you change your mind.”

If you think you’ll get your way by throwing a tantrum like a kid in a toy store, you’re dead wrong.

Honestly, I’ve got the mental stamina to stare at your puffed-up face for at least a solid hour.

But then, just like that, her anger fades. Her shoulders slump, and her cheeks deflate.

“At this rate… Karin-san is going to break.”

Her eyes are filled with sorrow, her expression on the verge of crumbling. Seeing her hurt like it’s happening to her personally makes my own chest ache.

That Misaki might break—I won’t argue against that. And I don’t have the kind of twisted tastes that’d make me want to see Shirahoshi cry any longer either.

That’s why I say this:

“I’m not going to help her. But I’m not just going to sit back and do nothing, either.”

“…Eh?”

“I’m still a cultural festival committee member, rotten as I may be. If Misaki breaks down now, it’s going to be a problem for all of us.”

Shirahoshi looks totally stunned, her brain not processing the sudden shift. Meanwhile, Koino-san just smiles softly.

My job is to hold the class together. Letting someone self-destruct isn’t an option.

“I won’t take responsibility for other people’s choices. But if it’s something I chose to do—then I’ll gladly take the blame for it. So, I’m going to stop Misaki, on my own terms. Even if she ends up resenting me for it.”

If I become the villain in the eyes of some idealistic do-gooder, that just adds to my street cred.

“…Tha.”

“Tha?”

“That’s why you’re my white horse prince, Haruichi-san! I love you!!”

Seriously, is this some kind of gambling addiction?

“Gwah…!” I can’t help but groan. Shirahoshi throws herself at me in pure emotion.

Her soft skin presses all over me, clinging tight without hesitation. Her sweet scent floods my nose. I try to push her off, saying “Back off or I’ll sue,” but she keeps clinging, apologizing with tears in her voice. “I’m sorry for being so sulky~!”

“You’re such a jerk, Haruichi-san! If you were planning to save Karin-san, just say so from the start!”

“I’ll say it again, but I’m only acting based on what works for me, got it?”

“No no. I don’t believe you’re doing this just for yourself.”

“Hah?”

I instinctively let up on my resistance for a moment. Seeing that, Shirahoshi pauses her hugging attack, as if to focus all her energy into her words. She speaks seriously, yet with her usual innocent and radiant smile.

“Even if you’re moving based on your own convenience, if in the process you reach out to help Karin-san, then that’s a splendid act of salvation.”

“Even if it ends up getting in Misaki’s way, or making her hate me?”

“Even then. Because it’s for Misaki-san’s sake.”

“That… really okay?”

“Yup ♪ Because I was saved too, so I can say that for sure!”

When someone states it so lightly and clearly, there’s just nothing more to say.

Koino-san seems to agree with Shirahoshi’s view too.

“Arisu-chan’s totally right. Besides, if you’re doing it for Karin-chan’s sake, she’ll definitely feel that in her heart.”

“……I wonder.”

“It’ll be allll good ♪ If you two end up fighting, your onee-san Kimika will step in to help patch things up.”

“Okay?” Koino-san says with a soft smile, gently stroking my head. This time, not like I’m some kind of cute pet, but just as a supportive kouhai.

Feeling flustered by the sudden tenderness, I blurt out, “I’ll try my best so it doesn’t come to that,” and in response, both Shirahoshi and Koino-san give me top-tier, A5-rank grade smiles and nod.

Seriously, since when did this café start offering such emotional support services? I’d hire them both for my own maid café in a heartbeat.

With one last push of encouragement, the harem time ends.

Solo time resumes. I lean deep into the chair and power up the tablet.

Alright, let’s crush the rest of the tasks all at once.

While sorting through the data, I catch myself wondering what Misaki might be doing right about now.

Is she working on costumes? Filming a movie? Recording narration? I don’t know the details, but she’s definitely doing it all to hype up the school festival, or to contribute to the class. That much I’m sure of.

And I bet… she’s pushing herself hard to beat me.

How ironic. Even though the form is different, it’s still the kind of challenge she wanted.

“Can’t believe the biggest obstacle in the school festival turned out to be Misaki herself…”

If she stands in my way, I won’t hold back though.

※ ※ ※

The next morning. The classroom is wrapped in this strange, restless atmosphere.

Everyone’s chatting idly with friends or messing with their phones at their desks. Nothing out of the ordinary, but their minds clearly aren’t present. Even Candyshop and Takesato, the K/D-ratio obsessed battle royale duo, have the game muted and are playing quietly.

The reason’s obvious. Everyone’s paying way too much attention to one person.

Misaki.

Even today, she’s silently working on the maid outfits all by herself. But the phrase “utterly exhausted” fits her to a T. Heavy eyelids cast a shadow over her usually bright, expressive eyes. Her lips, normally curved up in a subtle smile, are a flat line. Still, the expression on her face as she fights against sleep and fatigue is deadly serious—and it’s so intense that no one dares even say their usual morning greetings.

Instead, offerings have been made. Her desk is loaded with snacks and juice, plus energy drinks, vitamin supplements, minty gum, eyedrops… all piled up as if she’s being worshipped. It’s proof of how loved she really is.

Suddenly, everyone gasps.

Misaki’s body starts swaying, drifting left and right like she might collapse.

Caffeine and taurine overdose withdrawal symptoms?

No way. It’s just pure sleep deprivation.

This is it. She’s hit her limit.

“Misaki.”

I tap her shoulder—no, more like support her before she topples off the chair.

Half-asleep and dazed, it takes her a solid beat or two to even register me.

“Ah… good morning, Himemiya-kun. What’s up?”

“After you finish that one outfit, I’ll handle the rest of the costumes.”

“…Eh?”

Her heavy eyelids fly open. And then, realizing this is no casual matter, she doesn’t just turn her head—her whole body turns to face me.

What a girl. One sentence from me and she forgets she’s exhausted.

But that’s only temporary.

“Wh-Why?”

“The festival’s less than three days away. We can’t wait any longer.”

“But! Himemiya-kun, you didn’t say anything about a deadline until yesterday!”

“I didn’t.”

“Right?! Then just a little more—”

“Can’t wait.”

My words, quick and firm, cause Misaki’s eyes to falter.

“It was my bad for not mentioning the deadline. I apologize.”

“N-No, I didn’t mean to blame you or anything…”

“I know.”

“Then—!”

“I’m a member of the organizing committee. I can’t prioritize just one person’s schedule.”

“…!”

For someone who lives by her own rules to be told she can’t play solo… that must’ve hit Misaki like a slap in the face.

She bites her trembling lip and clenches her fists tight. Frustrated? Anxious?

Or maybe she’s angry with me—hates me for this?

“No way!”

“Huh?”

“No no no! I’m making these costumes! I am!”

“What are you, a kindergartener…?”

“I’m a high schooler!”

Yikes. If it were Yuzu, I’d have already flicked her forehead.

Misaki clutches the in-progress maid outfit and makes a full-body show of protest.

I was bracing for some pushback, but this childish tantrum throws me off completely. Even the rest of the class watching are stunned into silence. Even carefree Kurashiki mutters, “Is… is this Karin going through a character arc…?”

This is straight up “daughter wants a pet” vs. “dad says no” family drama now.

“I really don’t have much left! Give me just three days, and I can bang out five more!”

“And what if you somehow finish, but the sizes are off, or the outfits have defects?”

“I did proper measurements, so there’s no way there’ll be any mistakes!”

“Even if you didn’t mess up, unexpected stuff can still happen, right?”

“And if something does happen, I’ll fix it right away!”

“Listen… You can’t just rely on willpower and—”

“I will fix it!”

With an ii~! and a big grin showing her pearly whites, Misaki tries to intimidate me.

That expression of hers—it’s so annoyingly smug that it actually surpasses her cuteness, and I feel an uncontrollable urge to give in to a murderous impulse. Like, can I just bust out a Shun Goku Satsu right now?

And don’t go darting your eyes around all scared now.

Did you really think I was going to unleash a real technique? Hatori rushes over and clings to my right arm, trying to stop me.

“H-Himemiya-kun! Calm down!”

The pressure of her well-endowed chest, the sheer nyuuatsu (breast pressure) is on another level. Even through the sweater, I can clearly feel my right arm sinking into that cleavage.

Trying to calm me down with boobs? That’s some tactical play.

Though, I do get it—it’s pure emotion, wanting to protect her best friend.

“Karin. We’ll help with the costumes too. Okay?”

“That would actually have the opposite effect.”

“…Eh?” “!”

Looks like neither of them expected that answer. Misaki, who had been sulking, turns her gaze back toward me with curiosity.

“Even if you’ve got volunteers, normal high schoolers can’t just whip up full outfits like Misaki can. If there’s even one person who can make a whole costume, you should count yourself lucky.”

Hatori seems to understand too—she doesn’t have the skills to make a full outfit herself, and mutters, “That’s true…” before going quiet. The rest of the class seems to have read the room too, since no one’s offering to help.

Starting from scratch by learning from Misaki wouldn’t make things any more efficient. If anything, it might just put more strain on her.

And with the school festival right around the corner, the sewing room is packed every day. Even if we swarm in with numbers, there are only a few sewing machines available anyway.

Misaki beams with a confident smile.

“Right? That’s why I’ll handle it on my ow—”

“That’s the worst option.”

Don’t glare at me like that.

With Misaki and Hatori leading the pack, the rest of the class has a “then what do we do?” look on their faces.

Alright. Since I’ve got everyone’s attention, this is the perfect time.

“Good morning, everyone~♪”

Nice timing, chibi teacher.

Just as the bell rings, Amami-sensei comes into the classroom, bright and energetic as always.

If we’re going to move forward, the sooner the better. Time to shift to the final phase. I head over to Amami-sensei, who’s still trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Amami-sensei.”

“Yeees?”

“There’s something we need to decide quickly about the school festival. Can I borrow a moment of your time?”

Despite her appearance, Amami-sensei is surprisingly mature. She quickly picks up on the situation and gives a cheerful “Go ahead, go ahead” with a smile.

I head back to my seat to grab what I need, then stand at the front of the classroom.

Now that we’ve come this far, no need to waste words.

The class is already paying attention after all that happened, so there’s no need for much preamble.

“As you probably noticed, the school festival is only a few days away, and we still don’t have enough maid outfits. Waiting until the last minute is risky, and most of all, I want to consider Misaki’s well-being. So, I came up with another idea and I’d like to hear everyone’s thoughts.”

I speak with a firm, calm tone to the quietly listening class.

“What if… we borrowed uniforms from actual cafés or restaurants?”

Feels like I’m the guy raising the “Reiwa” plaque. I unlock my tablet and show the results of my search on WELL.

“I’ve already listed some shops with uniforms similar to maid outfits. They’re all independently run cafés, and I think they might be willing to lend one or two uniforms.”

Can’t believe the day would come when my hobby actually becomes useful.

It was kind of a pain to recall all the uniforms from the places I’ve visited, but with this, we can get a variety of styles. If we just add frilly aprons and headbands to them, we’ll have fully functional maid costumes with no awkward mismatches.

Misaki raises her hand.

“B-But! That means we’d have to start collecting them now, right?”

“Yeah. If everyone’s okay with it, I was planning to start moving on it after school today.”

“There’s still a chance none of the shops will lend us anything… Isn’t that too uncertain?”

“True, I can’t guarantee we’ll get them. But compared to having Misaki handle it all by herself, this is way more realistic.”

She tries to push her stance again, so I push back. Honestly, I wish she’d just tip over already. But even now, Misaki continues to radiate an aura of stubborn resistance.

Are we headed for another stalemate?

Nope. Not this time.

“I—I’m with Himemiya-kun on this!”

“Me too! One vote for Himemiya~!”

The ones to cut through the stagnation are Hatori and Kurashiki.

“I can help out this way too, and if all goes well, we can get the outfits in just one day.”

“Guess I got no choice~ I’ll borrow a waitress uniform from my part-time job. Doesn’t matter if it’s a chain store!”

Maybe Misaki thought they’d be on her side. She looks visibly shaken by her two best friends taking my side.

It wasn’t just Hatori and Kurashiki. It was also Urogase, Namikawa, and the “riajuu” group.

“Isn’t that fine? If I had to point out a problem, it’d be that the person trying to negotiate is a bit grumpy. So, we’ll help out too. You know, the ‘good gals’ like us.”

“On a day like this, it’s fine to skip club activities, right? Okay! After school, let’s go get those uniforms! Let’s return the favor to Himemiya and Karin!”

Even the candy shop and Takechi, who prefer the shade of the sun, said:

“If it’s about maid cafe stuff, leave it to me! I’ve memorized every single store in Kansai with my brain and smartphone!”

“We can help with gathering information too! So, Himemiya-san, let’s exchange LINE contacts so we can share info?”

Many of my classmates raised their hands to support my idea.

The ones who didn’t were only Misaki and Queen Endou.

“What about you?” I asked as I looked at Endou, and she seemed like she wanted to say, “What are you looking at?”

“Everyone else is raising their hands, so there’s no need for Hina to raise hers.”

Your one word has the kind of dictatorial power that could overturn the heavens. But I can’t say that out loud.

“Well, I mean, it’s obvious that it’s going to be Himemiya.”

“Why?”

“If we’re going to put a burden on someone, I’d prefer it be Himemiya rather than Karin.”

“…”

What an opinion from her, as expected.

The spoiled princess is still alive and well. The fingers that had been curling her self-proud perm pointed straight to the ceiling.

“Right♪ I have a uniform I really want to try on! I wanna ask that store to get it for me! Himemiya, please make it happen!”

“Well, if you have a request, I’ll try to accommodate it as much as I can.”

“Yay♪”

“But…”

“??… But?”

“Please don’t ask for ridiculous uniforms from sleazy stores with dumb designs.”

“What the heck is wrong with you?!”

With her bright red face and tearful eyes, it was clearly for the best that we were sticking to more wholesome places.

Endou also joined in the noise, and the classroom became a lively mix of voices, regardless of caste.

The voices of my classmates, looking down from the podium, were filled with meaningful statements, and it was clear that they were all fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Even Amami-sensei, who was observing, seemed very pleased, as if the scene she had been hoping for was unfolding before her.

Now that it wasn’t just me but the entire class’s consensus, Misaki had no choice but to give in.

“Misaki. Can we move forward with my plan?”

“…Yeah.”

If this were a real puzzle, things would have been simple.

If I just put in the last piece, the 1-B class illustration would be complete. But no matter how much I pushed, the last piece refused to fit. Even though the shape was correct, it kept resisting, unwilling to be placed.

Originally, that position was supposed to be mine.

※　※　※

During lunch break, at my favorite spot on the top floor of the emergency staircase.

I finished organizing the appointments with the shops and the team of volunteers who will help, and now I’m having a relaxed coffee break with the thermos I brought.

As I absentmindedly gaze at the rising steam against the pale sky, she appears.

“Himemiya-kun.”

“Yo.”

It’s Misaki, calling from the bottom of the stairs.

I wasn’t particularly surprised, since I expected her to show up soon.

I wasn’t surprised, but I had no idea what she was about to say or do. Now that we were alone, was she here to take her chance and execute her plan to take me down?

She gets closer, step by step. I stay on guard, using my tablet as a shield, ready to defend myself at any moment. My life is more important than any tablet.

Finally, Misaki stands right in front of me.

“I’m sorry!”

Instead of a headlock, she gives a pure and sincere apology.

Her ability to apologize without falling into darkness, doing so in such a straightforward manner, really shows how much of a philanthropist she is—truly, it’s so very Misaki.

“I’ve already been causing you confusion, but I ended up making you even more troubled by getting all stubborn and trying to push you further…”

“If you’re able to properly reflect on your actions, that’s good enough. And it would really help if something like this didn’t happen again in the future.”

“…I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“Did you thank the people who helped you properly?”

“Yeah… I wouldn’t say I did it perfectly, but I thanked each one of them individually.”

“I see.”

In that case, there was no need to continue lecturing her.

“The remaining task can be done slowly. Use the rest of your time for sleep or other tasks.”

“Understood. Since you all made time for me, I’ll make sure to use it wisely.”

Misaki, with a modest smile, didn’t mention that she was also going to handle the store negotiations and showed a genuine sign of reflection. Though it seemed uncertain whether she would fully recover in time, I believed she wouldn’t fall apart by the day of the festival. In fact, if she didn’t sleep after all this, I’d definitely scold her.

The apology session was over, so it was time to leave.

However, Misaki didn’t leave. Instead, she sat down next to me.

As far as behavior patterns went, that was typical and expected.

The problem was with the next pattern.

“…Hey.”

“Just a little bit, good night.”

Was she really going to sleep here? Misaki snuggled up next to me.

Shoulder to shoulder, upper arm to upper arm, hip to hip. Each part of our bodies touched, and Misaki’s body temperature gradually mixed with mine.

Was it simply because she was light, or was it because she was truly exhausted? I didn’t feel her weight much, even as she leaned her half-body against me.

Just because I didn’t feel her weight didn’t mean it was okay to snuggle. I’m a man too, and I was on edge.

“If you want to sleep, go to the classroom.”

“But you told me to rest, Himemiya-kun.”

“At least lean on the iron fence, not me.”

“The iron fence is hard and cold. I prefer Himemiya-kun.”

“Don’t use people as substitutes for a hot water bottle…”

“If I get closer, will it get even hotter?”

Should I just let her fall down the stairs?

With a mischievous smile, Misaki laughed, as if to say she had succeeded in teasing me.

She was closer than usual, and sitting in the VIP seat, I could see Misaki’s soft expression, which felt like a privilege.

But,

“Hey.”

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“Do you still want to beat me?”

Misaki’s expression shifted from a smile to surprise, as if she had been caught off guard.

If she wasn’t truly smiling, then it’s better not to make an expression that didn’t suit her.

We see each other every day and talk, so I can tell when something’s different about her, and I can guess what she’s thinking.

As expected, Misaki quietly nodded.

“…Yeah. I want to win.”

“Why are you so obsessed with winning?”

“Because I admire you, Himemiya-kun.”

She answered immediately, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her words, full of unwavering determination, and her clear eyes staring at me.

“Because I admire you, I want to beat you.”

Admire? Our goals and values are completely different, so why would she want to beat me?

Was this her way of signaling that there was nothing more to discuss? Misaki closed her mouth, stopped meeting my eyes, and then leaned her head on my shoulder.

“Misaki?”

“…”

Was she really asleep, or was she pretending to sleep? I could leave and test it, but I just didn’t feel like it.

I know myself well. That’s why I don’t understand why I’m being valued so much. I don’t know what Misaki is thinking either, since it’s not about me.

The only thing I do know is that, being someone who likes being alone, I can’t easily figure out what’s going on with her.

I took a sip of coffee from my thermos to refresh myself. Since I had left it open, it felt a little lukewarm. The rising steam was weaker than usual.

After taking a breath, I thought about how troublesome it would be to think, and I ended up closing my eyes.