You Girls Are Way Too Obsessed With A Lone Wolf Like Me - Volume SS: 1 and 2

Volume SS: 1 and 2

SS①: Whose Scent Does the Lone Wolf Love?

In my sanctuary, the private room on the fourth floor of the Culture Building.

Today, like always, I’m kicking back with my trusty canned coffee, lost in the pages of a book.

Up ahead, in the front row, the usual trio of girls is in full yammer-yammer mode, hyped up as ever.

I’m used to it by now. If I just pretend there are three Flower Rocks in the room, it’s not that annoying.

Flower Rock A: Misaki Karin, the academy’s darling idol, loved by all and loving all in return.

Flower Rock B: Hatori Erena, who seems like a mature lady but is secretly a hardcore subculture nerd.

Flower Rock C: Kurashiki Ruri, the no-filter, positivity-charged girl chasing ultimate girly power.

The three of them are lined up side by side, flipping through a fashion magazine like the best of buddies.

Spread across the long table is a feature screaming, “Embrace Baked Colors! Master the Ultimate Outfit Rotation to Knock THAT Special Someone Out Cold!?”

What, are they plotting to assassinate someone with style?

Bet it’s secretly hyping some cutting-edge optical camouflage armor for fall.

Suddenly, Ruri, sitting in the middle, zeroes in on Misaki’s hair with laser focus.

“Hmmm~? Karin, did you switch up your treatment?”

She leans in closer, sniffing like a bloodhound. “It’s so shiny! And it smells amazing!” Sniff sniff! If Ruri were a guy, she’d be reported by now, but these two are thick as thieves.

Misaki beams, clearly thrilled to be noticed.

“You caught that? I started using a new treatment yesterday. Loretta! ♪”

“…Wait, you mean that new product that just dropped this month?”

“Yup, that’s the one!”

“OH NOOO~!”

Ruri’s reaction is so over-the-top, you’d think she stepped on a landmine. Misaki and Erena exchange a glance, totally thrown off.

“What, Ruri, were you eyeing it too?”

“Yup, totally! But, like, it’s first-come, first-serve with these things, right? No biggie! I’ll just wander the net for a different treatment~!”

“? I’m not gonna get mad if we use the same one, y’know? If you wanna try it, I can share—”

“Non non NON!”

Ruri shakes her head like a bobblehead, throwing up a big NOPE sign to Misaki’s kindness.

“I wanna be a one-of-a-kind gal, always!”

“What kinda individuality gets lost over hair treatment…?” Erena mutters.

“I mean, sure, but if you’re the only one with a different scent, Erena, doesn’t that make us look like your lackeys? Like, I’m Suke-san, Karin’s Kaku-san, and you’re Lord Mito Mitsukuni himself! That kinda vibe?”

“I’m Mito Komon…?” Erena groans, suddenly aged into a frail old lord. She’s not having it.

“I’d rather be Suke-san than Kaku-san, though…” Misaki pouts.

“What’s with the picky demands?! Everyone’s the protagonist of their own life, DUH—!”

“Ruri!?”

What’s she snapping for?! It’s like she’s about to whip out a “This seal is the mark of my authority!” Ruri, the high-octane queen, launches herself at Erena’s ample chest—Suke-san on the right, Kaku-san on the left—in a diving hug.

She wraps her arms around Erena’s waist, locking her in a vice grip. This is basically a daily ritual.

“Why do you always dive into my chest!?”

“‘Cause those glorious peaks are right there!”

What is she, an alpinist?!

Mountaineer Ruri takes a deep breath at Erena’s Everest.

Or maybe she’s less a climber and more an addict? “Erena’s sweater… that scent is divine as always…” she mumbles, inhaling and exhaling like a creep. Might be time to call the cops, even if they’re besties.

“Your fabric softener’s the kind that smells stronger when you scrunch the clothes, right~? So if I keep nuzzling into your chest like this… muni muni… HANYAAAA~! The fluffy boobs and heavenly scent are pure bliss~!”

“G-Get off…! Himemiya’s right there… It’s embarrassing…!”

All I can do is pretend I’m oblivious.

Erena, my condolences. Er, I mean, thanks for the show—

“HEY!” Misaki cuts in, wedging herself between victim and culprit. Another daily ritual.

And, of course, I get dragged into it. Yet another ritual.

“Himemiya-kun! Sorry to interrupt your reading, but help me peel off Ruri’s harassment!”

“Nyahahaha! ♪ C’mon, Himemiya, join the hug! You can bask in Erena’s amazing scent too~!”

“N-No, Himemiya can’t sniff me…!”

What is this demon-haunted chaos world?!

A nice scent, huh?

Yeah…

The most calming scent for me? Gotta be the coffee I’m sipping right now.

SS②: When a Loner and a Gal Cross Paths, the Story Begins

After school, at the drugstore by the station.

I march straight into the men’s section, zero hesitation, and snatch my target: refill packs for face wash and toner. All that’s left is the checkout.

Even I think this shopping trip is absurdly quick. But when you’re barely invested, this is how it goes.

If I were some trendy, beauty-obsessed dude, I’d probably be prancing around, eyeing every cosmetic in sight. Maybe I’d be so hardcore I’d chug toner mixed with soda or something.

But my face? It’s just… this.

Not that I’m all doom and gloom about it. A face like mine means I can get by with budget men’s products. Behold, the power of positive thinking!

A wallet-friendly face, ready to hit the register.

“Huh? If it isn’t Himemiya?”

“Yo. Catch ya later.”

“Don’t just bolt like that…!”

No need to treat me like some monster, geez.

In Dragon Quest terms:

Urogase Yumeno has appeared!

In Pokémon terms:

A Wild Urogase Yumeno jumped out!

In Conan terms:

She looks like a gal, but she’s got a heart full of mom vibes—her name’s Urogase Yumeno!!!

Something like that.

Sure, she’s a nice gal, but that doesn’t mean I’m thrilled to run into her after school.

Urogase shoots me a half-lidded glare.

“What’s with that ‘ugh, stuck with a pain-in-the-butt’ face?”

“Don’t sweat it. This is just my default when I bump into classmates after school hours.”

“Wanna chat for, like, an hour then?”

What a brutal idea.

After some half-hearted conversational ping-pong, Urogase peeks at the stuff in my hands. “Whatcha buying?”

“Face wash and toner? Oh~ Look at you, actually taking care of yourself.”

“Just basic etiquette.”

Urogase lets out a tiny giggle.

Is she thinking, “Your face only needs soap and tap water, lol”?

Nope, not quite.

“Foam face wash and an all-in-one toner? That’s so you.”

“? How’s that ‘me’?”

“It’s like you’re trying to do the bare minimum with the least effort possible.”

“…Leave me alone.”

“Pfft! Nailed it~! ♪”

Her giggles turn into full-on cackles.

Like that trio of besties, this gal’s starting to figure out my thought patterns and habits.

If there were a Himemiya Proficiency Test, Urogase’d probably score a Grade 4.

What’s going on in her head, though?

Wait—her hand’s reaching for my face?!

For a split second, I brace myself, thinking she’s about to gouge out my eyeballs. False alarm.

Her hand lands on my cheek.

“…Oi.”

“Hmm… Kinda dry skin, huh?”

Her slender, manicured fingers glide across my cheek, back and forth. She’s careful not to scratch me with her nails, using just the pads of her fingers—gentle, considerate. Points for that.

Still, it’s embarrassing. And ticklish.

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Urogase snatches the toner from my hand.

“If you’ve got dry skin, you should go with this one.” She grabs a different toner from the shelf and hands it to me. It’s the same brand, same price, but the “moisturizing” version.

“Same brand, same price, no big deal, right?”

“Whoa.”

“What’s that reaction supposed to mean…?”

“Nah… Just, like, genuinely thanks.”

Honestly, I’ve never even thought about my skin type.

Guess that’s what you’d expect from a top-tier high school gal—mastering even men’s skincare like it’s nothing.

My skincare logic? Tight skin → tension → sumo wrestler → mochi skin.

Yeah, I’m that clueless about beauty. No comparison to her.

I stare at the new toner, my skincare savior for the foreseeable future, then glance back at Yumeno.

She’s grinning so hard her dimples are showing.

“I’m pretty helpful, huh?”

“Yeah, for real. Advice like that’s a lifesaver.”

“Love the honesty! ♪”

Her toothy Nyah! grin is, I’ll admit, kinda cute.

At least, it was until—

“Now it’s your turn, Himemiya.”

“…Huh?”

“I came here to grab some nail polish, body spray, lip stuff, y’know, care products. So now you get to pick something for me.”

“…”

What is this, tit-for-tat? Like swapping jerseys after a soccer match?

That’s a lot of picking for me though?

“Well then—”

“C’mon, let’s hit the ladies’ section!”

Classic Urogase. She catches me trying to sneak toward the register and yanks my arm with a vice grip. Congrats, you’ve just leveled up to Grade 3 on the Himemiya Proficiency Test.

“Let’s start with body spray. Pick one with a scent you like.”

“My favorite scent…? Gotta be coffee.”

“If you’re that obsessed with coffee, how ‘bout we hit a café after shopping? ♪”

“…”

If I keep running my mouth, I’ll never make it home.

Also, don’t modern high school girls care way too much about scents?

Spoiler: After shopping, I got dragged to a café for an hour of small talk.