Chapter 1

♥♥♥

【Tsuchiya Bunta】

I guess staying up to watch late-night anime in real-time and then doing my paper route was too much for my frail body after all…!

Times like these call for the Saint-sama! If I can just get one look at the Saint-sama, my stamina will recover!

Then if I take a quick nap, I should be able to make it through the day somehow.

Despite my little sister warning me, “Nii-san, you have a weak constitution

Stupid, really. That’s the only word for it. Zero planning skills. And it’s not like my body’s sturdy to begin with.

Now then, let me give you a quick rundown of who I am. Maybe there’s some lifeform out there observing from outside this world.

Tsuchiya Bunta, seventeen years old. Your average male high school student. Describe yourself in one word? Ordinary.

—That’s it!

If any observers actually exist, let me tell you this right now.

Watching me is boring! Because nothing ever happens.

Unlike me, who has nothing noteworthy about him, the Saint-sama is someone who never lacks for topics of conversation.

I really have nothing more to say about myself, honestly.

Anyway, moving on.

I met her half a year ago. I’d started a part-time job delivering newspapers, which meant I had to take an earlier commute train to school.

The shock when I first saw her? I thought an angel had descended, you know?

I seriously believed I’d finally boarded the express train to heaven, you know?

The euphoria I got just from looking at her was off the charts. An appearance that made you wonder if she was even the same species as the rest of us. Pure aesthetic violence.

Thanks to her, I can honestly say I continue my newspaper delivery job—which I started just for the money—because I want to see the Saint-sama.

People from the old days left behind such wonderful words, didn’t they?

“The early bird gets the worm,” they say.

With my otaku hobbies, I’d normally fantasize about a boy-meets-girl scenario between me and the Saint-sama right about now, but unfortunately, I’m a realist.

I’d like to think I can distinguish between reality and fiction.

That’s why I make sure to keep her barely within the edge of my vision—just enough to catch a glimpse.

We’re complete strangers after all, and if some guy with no connection to her just stared intently, any girl would feel anxious and scared, right?

So anyway, today I boarded the train planning to subtly get the Saint-sama in my field of vision as usual, but—

…Wha…what!? Of all days, the Saint-sama isn’t here!? No way!

I pretend to look for an open seat so I don’t seem suspicious.

Casually letting my gaze wander. A technique I’ve honed over these six months, right on the edge of being performance-enhancing doping.

Has God forsaken me? What a cruel punishment!

To rob me of my happiness and joy, when I’ve accepted my plain face with resignation—I cannot forgive this divine tyranny.

Unable to see the Saint-sama even once. The moment I registered that fact, I was struck by a dizzy spell. Anemia. Must be because I pushed myself too hard watching anime in real-time then doing my delivery route. Too weak…!

Stumbling around, I find an empty seat and sit down carelessly.

With my head hanging in dejection, I must’ve looked completely burnt out.

“You look pretty down. Couldn’t meet who you were looking for?”

“Yeah. My sweet angel isn’t here, and—huh!?!?!?!?”

She spoke to me so naturally that I just kinda, y’know, slipped. My mouth ran away from me.

The moment I realized someone was talking to me, a sweet fragrance drifted over.

My brain instantly identified it—the distinctively sweet scent of a girl.

How would I, someone with zero female contact, even have that memory? Of course, sensory information obtained from my little sister, who’s family.

The sensation of the seat sinking slightly and a creaking sound.

When I nervously turned my gaze toward where I sensed a presence, there was—

—the Saint-sama…

…is what she looked nothing like. A gyaru was sitting there instead.

Lustrous blonde hair flowing straight down to her waist. Her uniform worn in an oiran-style with a short skirt boldly exposing her thighs.

Thanks to the way she’d crossed her long legs, various things were becoming, well, various (vocabulary obliterated. In other words, almost visible).

Her makeup was subtle, yet it perfectly brought out the quality of her natural features, and her attention to detail extended to her fingertips. Even her nails were immaculate.

An uncompromising outfit and appearance.

If I’d describe the Saint-sama’s attribute as “healing,” then the girl before me was “thorns.”

A beautiful gyaru who’d never have anything to do with an introverted person like me in this lifetime.

My instincts were blaring alarm bells at full blast.

Words like “beautiful flowers have thorns” and “honey trap” were frantically racing through my brain.

“Huh? Um, who!?”

Thanks to that, a ridiculous voice leaked out.

S-so this kind of thing really does happen.

“Nice to meet you. Got a sec? There’s something I wanna ask.”

“Are you trying to shake me down!?”

“…Huh. So that’s how I look to you.”

“I don’t have any money!”

“This guy! Maybe I really should rob you.”

“Eek!”

“…Nah, obviously I’m kidding. Don’t seriously cower like that. Anyway, can we get to the point? Otaku-kun, you’re always watching some girl student in this car, aren’t you? What’s your deal?”

Her sharp gaze made my heart jump. I could feel intensely that she was sizing me up.

Gyaru are scary!

I felt like I might start trembling from fear. Normally my mind would’ve gone completely blank.

But her words were more than enough to drag me back to reality.

There’s no way I could just let that slide!

—You’re always watching some girl student in this car, aren’t you?

She… she knows…!?

She knew I’d been keeping the Saint-sama at the edge of my vision all this time!?

No, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. It’s true I was watching her, but I should’ve been as considerate as possible.

At the very least, I’d been trying not to come across as a pervert or creep.

Wait, what kind of situation is this where a complete stranger of a girl suddenly confronts me about this!?

What the hell is happening to me!

Suddenly faced with this disaster(?), I carefully choose my words even as they get stuck in my throat.

“The girl student you’re referring to is…”

“Can’t you tell from looking at this?”

Following her instruction, I look at her closely and notice a uniform I recognize.

“Don’t tell me that uniform…”

“Yup. I’m friends with her. The thing is, she consulted me because she felt someone’s gaze on her.”

The moment I heard that, the blood drained from my entire body.

Even though there was still so much I didn’t understand, it felt like the dots were connecting.

She consulted her…?

Which means she felt anxiety and fear from my gaze…?

That’s—not what I intended. No, it’s something that “should never have happened.”

The Saint-sama is my benefactor. It’s no exaggeration to say she’s given me the energy to enjoy every day, the sustenance to keep living.

If I made her anxious, that would be like repaying kindness with cruelty.

—There’s no way I can make excuses.

That’s exactly why I need to look her friend straight in the eye and sincerely apologize to the Saint-sama who must be beyond her.

“I’m sorry.”

“…Huh, you’re admitting it pretty easily. Well, she seems kind to everyone, so I guess it’s not surprising you’d fantasize that even you could get close to her.”

“Hold on! It’s true I was following her with my eyes. I admit that. But I wasn’t watching her with any ulterior motives!”

“Following a girl with your gaze but claiming you have no interest—isn’t that a bit of a stretch?”

“Ugh…! You’re absolutely right about that. But this really is different. It’s hard to put into words, but to me, she’s—a Saint-sama!”

“Dude, calling her a Saint-sama in your head is totally creepy.”

Ahhhhh! You’re right! That was a major slip-up!? I need to correct that quickly—

“I admit I’m a gross otaku. But I’m definitely not a creepy guy! I was simply being healed, that’s all!”

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down.”

If I were thinking straight, I’d realize this plea just sounds like a pathetic excuse, but at that moment I felt so bad about my benefactor being misunderstood.

That’s why I was desperately pleading.

“I really didn’t mean to make her anxious or scared. So please let me apologize. I’m truly sorry.”

Ah, I see. This really hurts.

To me, the Saint-sama is someone who shares her energy with me. A benefactor. And I was causing that person suffering. This is pain I’ve never experienced before.

“You weren’t targeting her as a member of the opposite sex?”

“I wasn’t.”

“That instant answer is kinda irritating though…”

“Huh? Sorry, what did you…?”

“Talking to myself.”

From now on, I probably won’t see the Saint-sama anymore, but from her perspective, there’d still be anxiety that I might keep following her around.

If I can reduce that fear even a little by showing genuine remorse here, that would be the best I could hope for.

“Just watching from a distance and being satisfied with that—like one of those fasting-type guys? First time I’ve actually seen one. So they really do exist.”

“Um, are you treating me like some kind of tsuchinoko or something?”

“Huh? Of course not.”

“Right, of course not—”

“Tsuchinoko have like a hundred-million-yen bounty. You’re more like a 50-yen coin, aren’t you?”

“Isn’t that way too low of a value!?”

Ah crap, I just reflexively threw in a retort—

“—Huh. So you can react like that too. Yeah. Not bad, I guess.”

“Huh?”

“Otaku-kun, you’re misunderstanding something. I never said Omote-chan felt anxious or scared, did I?”

“Omote-chan?”

“Ah, that’s my best friend’s nickname. The girl you call the Saint-sama.”

“Then what do you mean she didn’t feel anxious or scared?”

“Look, that girl’s appearance is insanely incredible, right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, you’re admitting it? So you did have ulterior motives after all, didn’t you?”

She turns a suspicious gaze on me.

“I’ll say it as many times as needed—I was just—”

“—being healed, right? I get it already. What I’m trying to say is, with looks that eye-catching, she’s bound to attract bad bugs too.”

“Bad bugs…”

Ugh…! Even though she didn’t say “like you,” those are still pretty harsh words.

I thought I was used to hearing stuff like this from my sister, but hearing it from someone else actually stings.

“Anyway, there are so many guys who get the wrong idea. So many who think they have a chance. That’s why I came to scout you out this time. It’s my job as her best friend to nip any worries in the bud.”

I see. I’m starting to understand the relationship.

If the Saint-sama has a gentle personality that matches her appearance, it wouldn’t be strange for guys to become obsessed even after she’s rejected them.

In that respect, the girl in front of me has a very direct personality and way of speaking.

If this full-on gyaru glared and said “Stop it, I’m telling you it’s a nuisance,” it would be more than enough to drive away an otaku like me. In fact, it’s super effective.

“To be honest, she told me ‘the gaze directed at me feels different from usual.'”

I suppose the feeling from a gaze containing romantic interest as a member of the opposite sex would be different from one seeking healing. A perceptive girl would especially notice.

Maybe that one point saved me from being labeled a stalker.

“You admit what you should admit, no flimsy excuses. Your sincerity and earnestness don’t make you seem like you’re lying either… Okay, interrogation over. I know it was unpleasant, but I’d appreciate your understanding.”

She stands up with light movements, and then comes the announcement of the station arrival.

Ah, the same station where the Saint-sama gets off. Maybe they’re classmates?

No, more importantly right now—!

“Wait, I’m getting off without any punishment? Not ‘don’t ever enter the Saint-sama’s field of vision again’ or ‘change your commute time and train car’?”

“I mean, you don’t have any ulterior motives, right?”

“I swear I don’t.”

“Then I can’t force you to do anything. Do what you want.”

Huh, wait what?

As soon as she saw my undisguised confusion, the train doors opened and—

“I’ll just tell Omote-chan one thing. That you didn’t seem like a dangerous guy. So what you do from here on out is up to you, Otaku-kun. Later.”

“Um! Before you go, may I ask your name?”

“Ah, umm… Urakawa, I guess. Well, you don’t need to remember my name at all though.”

Waving her palm back and forth, Urakawa-san got off as if nothing had happened.

In contrast, I felt like I’d just experienced a natural disaster.

So uh, does this mean I dodged a bullet? The defendant is harmless! Therefore acquitted, something like that?

Does this mean I can continue my small daily pleasure—catching a glimpse of the Saint-sama?

Ugh, I can’t anymore. My head won’t work. More than anything, the lingering tension is bad for my heart.

The physical fatigue from newspaper delivery and the mental exhaustion from Urakawa-san’s interview.

They’re both hitting me at once now.

My school’s station is coming up soon, but I should take a quick nap.

Having a vague sense of where this was going, I predictably slept all the way to the last stop and ended up magnificently late for school—way too predictable!

【Omotekawa Yui】

Thanks in part to gifted education, I grew up excelling in both academics and athletics.

Thanks to my mother’s beauty, my appearance isn’t bad either.

If I had to name my few weaknesses, it would be that I’m bad at waking up early.

I know this might sound conceited, but I don’t think it’s an exaggeration even from an objective evaluation.

My life as the young lady of the Omotekawa Group is undeniably part of who I am.

But I’d be lying if I said the position where my words and actions carry responsibility isn’t tough.

Honestly, I do yearn for age-appropriate frivolous conversations and lifestyle.

I can’t even remember the last time I talked freely without thinking, with anyone outside my family.

There were two reasons why I, not as the young lady but in my “reverse” form, decided to evaluate this one male student—Otaku-kun who rides the same commute train.

First, it was preferable given my position.

As a young lady, impulsive words and actions are strictly forbidden. You never know where or by whom you’re being watched or overheard.

If I spoke to a member of the opposite sex in my public persona, and worse yet, became the subject of rumors at my own school—

That would inevitably become troublesome.

In that regard, if I act as a completely different person, there’s no risk of causing unnecessary misunderstandings.

Second, I was bored. Yeah, to put it simply, I think I was seeking stimulation.

For me, who spends most of my day—no, most of my year—as a young lady, the only people I can be genuine with are older attendants, and only female ones at that.

Omotekawa Yui (me) in “reverse” form—my appearance as a gyaru was completely opposite to my young lady mode.

Even I have to admit, you’d never dream we were the same person. Yeah, perfect. Pretty good, right? I’ve always wanted to try dressing like this.

Preparations complete. Time to start probing.

I watch him from near the door of the adjacent car.

Otaku-kun is… oh, there he is. Haha, he’s searching, he’s searching.

Unfortunately, what he’s looking for is in a different car.

Once he sits down, I’ll go confirm his true intentions—wait, he’s super depressed!?

He looks like it’s the end of the world! He’s that affected just from not seeing her!?

Being wanted that much makes me kinda happy, actually.

“You look pretty down. Couldn’t meet who you were looking for?”

“Yeah. My sweet angel isn’t here, and—huh!?!?!?!? Huh? Um, who!?”

My sweet angel!?

Wait, what’s with that nickname! Calm down, me…! Judging from his reaction, he hasn’t figured out who I am.

Haha, “who”—huh. Little does he know I’m the very woman he sees every morning.

“Nice to meet you. Got a sec? There’s something I wanna ask.”

“Are you trying to shake me down!?”

As if! Wait, does he think I’m a delinquent!?

Was my “reverse” look too intense? I’m just a gyaru though?

“…Huh. So that’s how I look to you.”

“I don’t have any money!”

“This guy! Maybe I really should rob you.”

“Eek!”

“…Nah, obviously I’m kidding. Don’t seriously cower like that. Anyway, can we get to the point? Otaku-kun, you’re always watching some girl student in this car, aren’t you? What’s your deal?”

I sharpen my observational eye to evaluate him.

“The girl student you’re referring to is…”

“Can’t you tell from looking at this?”

“Don’t tell me that uniform…”

“Yup. I’m friends with her. The thing is, she consulted me because she felt someone’s gaze on her.”

Looks like he’s grasped the situation.

Now then, let’s see what comes out—a demon or a snake.

“I’m sorry.”

An immediate apology!? I thought he’d put up more of a fight since he should want to protect himself!

No flimsy excuses either.

Doesn’t look like an act, and he seems fundamentally good-natured? At the very least, he doesn’t seem like a dangerous person…

“…Huh, you’re admitting it pretty easily. Well, she seems kind to everyone, so I guess it’s not surprising you’d fantasize that even you could get close to her.”

“Hold on! It’s true I was following her with my eyes. I admit that. But I wasn’t watching her with any ulterior motives!”

“Following a girl with your gaze but claiming you have no interest—isn’t that a bit of a stretch?”

“Ugh…! You’re absolutely right about that. But this really is different. It’s hard to put into words, but to me, she’s—a Saint-sama!”

Wait, whaaaat…? A Saint-sama!?!? So he wasn’t seeing me as a member of the opposite sex but as a symbol of healing?

“Dude, calling her a Saint-sama in your head is totally creepy.”

“I admit I’m a gross otaku. But I’m definitely not a creepy guy! I was simply being healed, that’s all!”

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down.”

Otaku-kun’s response to my probing was a desperate plea.

And with an intensity that made even me feel embarrassed watching. Yeah, no doubt about it. He’s for real.

“I really didn’t mean to make her anxious or scared. So please let me apologize. I’m truly sorry.”

“You weren’t targeting her as a member of the opposite sex?”

“I wasn’t.”

“That instant answer is kinda irritating though…”

“Huh? Sorry, what did you…?”

“Just talking to myself.”

Being liked by someone of the opposite sex who isn’t even an acquaintance is exhausting, but that instant answer and declaration? That’s complicated, you know.

It’s like being told I have no appeal as a woman, which is kinda irritating.

But it’s actually refreshing not being approached with romantic intentions by the opposite sex.

“Just watching from a distance and being satisfied with that—like one of those fasting-type guys? First time I’ve actually seen one. So they really do exist.”

“Um, are you treating me like some kind of tsuchinoko or something?”

“Huh? Of course not.”

“Right, of course not—”

“Tsuchinoko have like a hundred-million-yen bounty. You’re more like a 50-yen coin, aren’t you?”

“Isn’t that way too low of a value!?”

Oh, nice. What’s this, you can do comebacks too? That scores pretty high points in my book.

“—Huh. So you can react like that too. Yeah. Not bad, I guess.”

“Huh?”

“Otaku-kun, you’re misunderstanding something. I never said Omote-chan felt anxious or scared, did I?”

“Omote-chan?”

“Ah, that’s my best friend’s nickname. The girl you call the Saint-sama.”

“Then what do you mean she didn’t feel anxious or scared?”

“Look, that girl’s appearance is insanely incredible, right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, you’re admitting it? So you did have ulterior motives after all, didn’t you?”

“I’ll say it as many times as needed—I was just—”

“—being healed, right? I get it already. What I’m trying to say is, with looks that eye-catching, she’s bound to attract bad bugs too.”

“Bad bugs…”

“Anyway, there are so many guys who get the wrong idea. So many who think they have a chance. That’s why I came to scout you out this time. It’s my job as her best friend to nip any worries in the bud.”

I glance at Otaku-kun. When I check his reaction, he’s wearing a serious expression.

He seems to trust and believe my words without doubting them. He’s got such an easy-to-read personality, seriously.

“You admit what you should admit, no flimsy excuses. Your sincerity and earnestness don’t make you seem like you’re lying either… Okay, interrogation over. I know it was unpleasant, but I’d appreciate your understanding.”

I had a good reason for it, but it wasn’t pleasant, was it?

Sorry about that. But in exchange—

“Wait, I’m getting off without any punishment? Not ‘don’t ever enter the Saint-sama’s field of vision again’ or ‘change your commute time and train car’?”

“I mean, you don’t have any ulterior motives, right?”

“I swear I don’t.”

“Then I can’t force you to do anything. Do what you want.”

Haha. I can practically hear him thinking, “Huh, wait what?”

I don’t mind being called the Saint-sama either, so maybe I’ll allow him to at least say good morning.

Be grateful for my generous heart, Otaku-kun.

“I’ll just tell Omote-chan one thing. That you didn’t seem like a dangerous guy. So what you do from here on out is up to you, Otaku-kun. Later.”

“Um! Before you go, may I ask your name?”

My (【Ura】) name!? Oh crap, having him interested in me wasn’t part of the plan!

“Ah, umm… Urakawa, I guess. Well, you don’t need to remember my name at all though.”

Since my real name is Omotekawa, I went with Urakawa… pretty straightforward even for me. Should’ve put a bit more thought into it.

It was on the spot, so I guess it can’t be helped.

After getting off, I stretch while imagining what comes next.

“Maybe I’ll wake up a bit early tomorrow.”

【Tsuchiya Bunta】

Reality and dating sims have something in common.

“Wait, didn’t you say you could distinguish between reality and fiction? Are you going senile?” I can already hear the jeers from outside this world at that opening, but please, let me explain.

What is this common point?

It’s not about how an ordinary male student somehow gets liked by an incredibly beautiful woman or girl—no, that’s not it.

It’s about having choices. That’s right, life’s turning points appearing one after another right before your eyes.

Of course, in reality, unlike in games, the choices aren’t displayed on screen, but it’s not an exaggeration to say what’s happening in your brain is the same.

Enough with the preamble—just tell me about this branching choice that appeared before you, you say?

To put it simply, whether to board the same time and train car as before, or not.

Yesterday, I got approached by a beautiful gyaru named Urakawa-san.

If you just cut out that part, it really does sound like a scene from a dating sim, but in reality, it was more like contact with a potential criminal—wouldn’t you say?

No, I’m saying that myself and it’s depressing.

Apparently my gaze was completely obvious, and she had consulted Urakawa-san, who’s the Saint-sama’s best friend about it—

Just thinking back on it makes my chest hurt.

I’m fully aware that I shouldn’t have expectations or misunderstandings, and thanks to desperately appealing that, I somehow won my innocence, but…

Suddenly, the announcement of the train’s arrival flows through.

If I board this train, I’ll be able to see the Saint-sama once more. Moreover, this is the day after yesterday.

Maybe the Saint-sama’s evaluation of me has been upgraded from “pervert-in-training who keeps stealing glances” to “harmless male high school student who embodies ordinary.”

Wait, my starting point is way too negative!

Being optimistic enough to finally reach “mediocre person”—isn’t that too high a background character deviation value!?

Anyway.

The commuter train arrives. With the sound of air releasing, the doors open wide.

It’s a scene that overlaps with a new beginning for me, Tsuchiya Bunta, as a human being.

A premonition that literally taking one step forward will be a new departure.

Urakawa-san said “It’s up to you, Otaku-kun.” She said that to me.

If I can take those words at face value, all I need is the courage to board.

Even without romance, I might be able to build a relationship of greetings, small talk, or being acquaintances.

No, I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

But “boarding” might include such developments.

This is truly a branching choice. As the protagonist, an active life begins from here—

That’s why I wear a bright smile like I’ve never had before, receiving the pleasant breeze as a blessing, and—

—I turned on my heel without boarding the train.

Brain-Tanjiro is shouting “Don’t run away, you coward!! Don’t run!!” but I have no intention of listening.

Because I don’t want to be hated by the Saint-sama.

Even though I was relieved to hear she wasn’t feeling anxiety or fear, one wrong step and I could have made her feel those emotions.

That’s really not what I intended.

In other words, I don’t want to make the Saint-sama suffer, and at the same time, I have the ego of not wanting to witness it. Much less do I want to be conscious that I’m the cause of it.

Yeah, a textbook coward.

So this is the last time I’ll see her… Farewell, Saint-sama.

It seemed long but was a short six months, but of course I’m nothing but grateful.

Thank you so much for everything until now!

【Omotekawa Yui】

Morning. I woke up planning to commute as the perfect and flawless Saint-sama, and I couldn’t hide my surprise at an unexpected harvest.

Wait…? Even without a “maybe,” I feel better than usual?

That unpleasant low blood pressure feeling when I wake up isn’t here!?

There are three things I dislike so much I want to erase them from my life. One of them is waking up.

Starting the day feeling heavy and sluggish is unacceptable, right?

I want to greet the morning refreshingly, but my body just won’t cooperate.

Do you think I can get ready in that state? Obviously impossible.

That’s precisely why I leave morning preparations to my attendants.

Changing clothes, makeup, preparing breakfast—currently, before I know it, I’m ready to leave for school without doing anything.

It’s so frustrating. Totally deflating. I want to do things for myself as much as possible.

Is that why? When I got up with an alarm for the first time in ten years,

“The young lady woke up on her own!?”

“Don’t say it like ‘Clara stood up,’ okay? I do wake up on my own sometimes.”

The reaction of my caretaker, the maid, was dramatic.

Well, honestly, I’m the most surprised one here.

Maybe it’s thanks to Otaku-kun? Haha, not bad…!

Of course, it’s not something sweet and sour like being conscious of him as the opposite sex.

I’m just looking forward to observing Otaku-kun’s (fan’s) reaction when the Saint-sama (idol) descends.

After being at the mercy of the maid all this time, I—

“Do we have any new lipstick?”

—ended up spending more than three times as long in front of the mirror until I was satisfied with my appearance.

If I’m going to meet him on the train anyway, I want to show him the perfect me, right?

I don’t feel bad at all about Otaku-kun getting healed just from looking.

Really, it’s an unexpected harvest.

I can ease my morning suffering. Otaku-kun gets healed. It’s truly win-win.

Alright, perfect! I might be giving off more Saint-sama vibes than usual!

Wait for me, Otaku-kun. Behold my full power!

◯●◯

And so there was a time when even I had motivation.

Huh, huuuh!? No way! He was going on and on about “Saint-sama, Saint-sama,” but changing his commute time and train car—isn’t that unbelievable!?

What awaited me when I boarded the same time and train car as before was Otaku-kun’s disappearance.

In complete contrast to the scene of him searching for me until now, the perfect and flawless Saint-sama searching for a male high school student you can find anywhere… It’s a comedy sketch!

Oh really. Oh, I see. So that’s what you’re doing, Otaku-kun. Coward. Well, I’ve got ideas of my own then.

I think the station where he always gets off is—

【Tsuchiya Bunta】

The day after my encounter with Urakawa-san, I disappeared, but… what do they think of me?

Relief, probably? They wouldn’t think “disappointing”—probably not.

That interpretation would be far too convenient for me.

In any case, there’s one thing I understood clearly after changing my time and train car.

I had been receiving energy from the Saint-sama more than I thought.

I fell asleep during class and apparently woke up shouting “Saint-sama!” in my sleep, throwing the classroom into chaos.

In PE, I had no strength like bread soaked in water, and during my part-time job after school, I made mistake after mistake. A parade of worry, exasperation, and scolding.

I thought I was aware that I wasn’t particularly competent to begin with, but I never thought not seeing the Saint-sama once would make me this useless…

“…Sigh. I want to see the Saint-sama.”

“Then why did you change trains this morning?”

“Because I don’t want to be hated—wait, who!?”

While leaning my upper body against the window getting all sentimental, a voice comes from above my head.

Once again, it was such a natural entry that I just kinda, y’know, slipped up, but I feel like something similar happened before!?

Déjà vu!?

When I hurriedly look up, there stands a beautiful girl I recognize. It’s Urakawa-san.

However, the atmosphere is different from before. She’s radiating an aura like you can hear “Menace…” coming from behind her.

Despite that, the expression plastered on her face is a smile.

Scaaaary! Wait, why are you angry? And why are you even here?

Before I can ask those questions, Urakawa-san sits down next to me.

A two-person seat, close enough that our upper arms might or might not touch. She smells nice, as always.

I’m also a healthy male high school student, so even though it’s out of place, I’m happy-embarrassed.

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Well, you’re already sitting, so…”

As soon as Urakawa-san sits next to me, she crosses her legs.

Even though my reason is screaming that I shouldn’t look at her that way, my gaze is inevitably drawn to her thighs that distort as if showing off from under her skirt.

They look firm enough to hear a plump sound, yet they’re not too thick, moderately toned—which is frustratingly nice.

Wait, what am I explaining in such detail!?

“What’s your deal?”

Resting her chin on her hand, she interrogates me with outstanding eye power.

Could she be angry that my gaze was wandering downward!?

No, but she was already in a bad mood when we reunited, right!?

“Omote-chan is worrying about it. Since you suddenly disappeared, she’s like ‘Did I make him feel uncomfortable because of me?'”

“Really!?”

Shocked by this revelation, I can’t hide my surprise.

I regret acting while only thinking about myself.

Belatedly, I feel joy at the fact the Saint-sama was worried about me, and anxiety about the misunderstanding.

I try not to judge people by their appearance, but if the Saint-sama is as kind-hearted a young lady as she looks—

After Urakawa-san’s pursuit as her best friend, if I disappeared, it wouldn’t be strange for her to be driven by complicated feelings.

The idea that the Saint-sama would feel relief if I disappeared from before her is my own selfish thinking.

I never imagined making her feel guilty.

This is a blunder from short-sighted actions.

“I went out of my way to certify you as harmless, and then you disappear the next day—that’s unbelievable. Coward.”

“Guhah…!”

A straight attack from the gyaru!

I somehow manage to survive with 1 HP remaining and avoid losing consciousness, but I’m on the verge of death. But I can’t die even if I die until I clear up the Saint-sama’s misunderstanding!

“Your excuse?”

“I assumed everything would be resolved if I disappeared. I’m truly sorry.”

“If apologizing solved everything, we wouldn’t need state power, would we? In the first place—”

“In the first place?”

“Don’t you think you’re apologizing to the wrong person, Otaku-kun?”

Urakawa-san’s sharp gaze pierces through me. An illusion of my heart’s position being seen through and gripped.

My instincts are telling me. Right now, this beautiful girl (gyaru) before me holds the power of life and death over me.

Understanding what Urakawa-san is getting at, my back is drenched with sweat.

—Apologizing to the wrong person.

What those words mean is that I should apologize face-to-face.

“Well, you see, I’m currently updating my age = years without a girlfriend record.”

“You’re suddenly throwing in a sad confession. So?”

“I can’t even have a proper conversation with a girl, so talking to the Saint-sama is, well, a high hurdle, if you know what I mean.”

“Hmm. So, the fact that you’re having this conversation with me right now means you don’t think of me as a girl. Wow, I’m hurt.”

Someone please kill me.

There’s no… there’s no way out! I’m completely cornered!

“Of course I want to apologize face-to-face too. But once I actually see the Saint-sama, I’ll get flustered and panic, or rather, I’ll definitely stutter, and do you think it’s okay for me to go full otaku? Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”

What I’m worried about is not having the confidence to stay calm in front of the Saint-sama with her overwhelming visual impact, and becoming suspicious-looking.

Conversely, I’m concerned that I might end up scaring her.

Urakawa-san sighs and says as if it’s obvious.

“Do you think Omote-chan is the kind of girl who would judge a boy that way after he mustered up the courage to apologize?”

That question is powerful enough to wake me up from desperately trying to find “reasons not to do it.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why don’t you do the right thing?”

“—Yes. You’re right. I want to at least clear up the misunderstanding so she doesn’t have to worry about it.”

Thanks to Urakawa-san, my resolve finally solidifies. She makes an ω shape with her mouth and—

“Show me what you’re made of. Well then, I’ll get off here.”

As Urakawa-san tries to stand up, there’s something I need to tell her.

“Um!”

“Mm?”

“Thank you for everything. Urakawa-san, you’re kind despite how you look!”

“Huh? Kind? Me? I have no idea how you got there. Oh, wait, are you hitting on me or something?”

“No, um, it’s not like that at all, so please don’t misunderstand.”

“Hah?”

“Could you please not misunderstand…?”

“It’s not about how you said it.”

“That’s not what I mean—you’re really considerate of your friends, aren’t you? Scouting things out, explaining the situation to me. I understand it’s all for your best friend, but you’re even indirectly taking care of me. I can’t say it well, but—I’m grateful.”

When you think about it.

She went out of her way to find me on my way home like this to convey the situation.

Urakawa-san surely isn’t free either.

But here she is, pushing my back like this.

If this isn’t what you call a good-natured person, I don’t know what is.

Urakawa-san turns away as if hiding, and then—

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

It was in an unexpectedly small voice.

Is this that thing? Could she possibly be embarrassed?

She seems like she’d be used to being praised, so it’s a bit of an unexpected side of her.

While I’m thinking that, Urakawa-san suddenly turns around and brings her well-formed face closer and closer.

Huh, huh, what!? No, um, I really didn’t mean it that way when I thanked you!?

C-c-c-c-c-c-could I have raised a flag—ow!

As expected, unable to stare at the beautiful girl’s face approaching me, I close my eyelids.

A strong impact on my forehead. When I hurriedly open my eyes, there’s a gyaru with a nasty-looking smile.

Judging by the stylish nails in front of me, I must’ve been flicked on the forehead.

“You’re getting cocky for an otaku. Don’t tell me you’ve never looked at yourself in a mirror?”

“That’s mean!”

Well, my little sister has said similar things to me so many times that I’m not that hurt by it.

Yeah. This resistance isn’t something I’m happy about having.

“Shouldn’t you say that kind of thing after apologizing to Omote-chan?”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“Well… I’ll cheer you on. Do your best, Otaku-kun.”

“I’ll give it my all!”

“Later.”

“Yes.”

I watch Urakawa-san’s back as she gets off.

This time, unlike last time, Urakawa-san’s reputation is on the line. If I get cold feet again, I’ll be dragging her face through the mud.

That’s… something I, as a man, absolutely shouldn’t do, I feel.

Maybe—

Gyaru who are kind to otaku don’t exist, but maybe there are gyaru who are indirectly kind.