In Room 210 of a certain student dormitory, Natsume Sonoko warmly welcomed their first-time visitors, Uiharu and Saten.
Uiharu sat primly before a large box, her gaze drifting uncontrollably toward the crate Natsume Sonoko had dragged out from under the bed.
This one was slightly different in size from the previous ones.
"Natsume-san, just how many boxes are you hiding under there?" Uiharu asked with keen interest.
The Natsume before them was like a magician, pulling box after box from beneath the bed in a seemingly endless, inexhaustible stream.
"About ten, I think. But lately, I'm running out of boxes again, so I'm considering buying new ones. Speaking of which, it seems like I'm almost out of space under the bed too."
Natsume Sonoko scratched her head somewhat awkwardly, accidentally messing up her bun in the process.
What would she do if there was no space left someday?
The things inside these boxes were all her treasures; the thought of throwing them away made Natsume Sonoko feel like her heart might ache to death.
And if she just left them lying around anywhere, the Dorm Supervisor's stern authority was not something she dared challenge.
What a dilemma.
Maybe she could discuss it with Misaka-senpai later—see if she could stuff one or two less-frequently-used boxes under their beds? Or perhaps she could give some things away.
"That's amazing. Are all young ladies this skilled at space management?" Uiharu's face showed an expression of awe.
"Indeed, being able to acquire so many boxes of varying sizes without exceeding the storage limits under the bed is truly a skill," Saten nodded in agreement, sharing Uiharu's sentiment.
Hearing their conversation, Natsume Sonoko flushed red. I never knew I was this impressive.
Well, ignoring a certain someone's unrealistic self-indulgence, let's return our gaze to a certain student dormitory.
"That's strange, why has Misaka-senpai been gone for so long?" Saten suddenly asked.
"Maybe something came up. It's probably better if we wait here a little longer," Natsume Sonoko replied very seriously.
Misaka-senpai was indeed held up by something—something that instantly made her blood boil, pushing her dangerously close to a meltdown.
If one had to define the duration of this meltdown, it would likely be the timeframe before the gravitational potential energy of her fist was converted into kinetic energy squarely within a certain someone's personal space.
Next door, in Room 208, Misaka-senpai, who had just come to drop off her bag, had unavoidably encountered a... special incident.
As usual, Shirai, who already brought Misaka-senpai more than enough unnecessary pressure, was attempting to provide a brand new pressure experience.
Dressed in her purple combat outfit, Shirai demonstrated excellent military discipline, adhering to the strategy of 'if the enemy doesn't move, I don't move; if the enemy moves, I move like a maniac.'
Before Misaka-senpai appeared, she perfectly embodied the image of a well-disciplined young lady, sitting quietly and demurely on the bed, gently swirling a wine glass she held.
But the moment the target appeared, she instantly transformed into a battle-hardened special forces soldier, adept at leaping and sprinting.
Using methods difficult for the naked eye to track—possibly even employing high-end techniques like Teleportation—she launched a ruthless, close-quarters assault on her enemy.
Undoubtedly, this was indeed a correct application of Teleportation: close the distance, then strike with certainty.
One phrase perfectly described Shirai: still as a portrait, moving like a crazed hare.
"I'm back."
A familiar voice sounded from outside Room 208's door, accompanied by the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened, revealing a refreshingly handsome face.
"Kuroko, Uiharu-san and Saten-san are right next door. They'll be coming over later..."
Misaka-senpai was still speaking to herself when she looked up and saw Shirai, clad in the purple combat suit. The rest of her words died in her throat.
Perhaps due to... austere conditions, the fabric of Shirai's combat suit employed a minimalist design approach, resulting in a peculiarly ultra-modern style that left Misaka-senpai utterly dumbfounded.
"Onee-sama~!" A tone laced with excitement and fervor. Wearing this sure-victory combat suit, Shirai joyfully dashed toward Misaka-senpai.
Shirai strode forward barefoot, eyes slightly narrowed, an unnatural red flush on her face. The purple combat suit billowed slightly in the wind generated by her movement, dancing in the air.
"What in the world are you doing?! Get down from there this instant!"
Misaka-senpai was still too inexperienced.
Although her fist had instinctively clenched in preparation, just as Shirai was about to reach her, an intangible spatial ripple suddenly appeared.
Misaka-senpai felt a heavy weight settle on her back.
Shirai Kuroko had once again violated dorm rules, using her teleportation ability to move onto Misaka-senpai's back. Fortunately, the Dorm Supervisor wasn't present.
Otherwise, combined with the crime of using cosmetics, she might have faced the tragic fate of cleaning the cafeteria for a week.
Truth be told, a certain Level 5 who constantly maintained a passive shield around herself was, in a way, also using her ability in the dorm. [Scratch that]
But let's get back on track. The situation inside Room 208 was now intense. Both participants were giving it their all.
Shirai had locked onto Misaka-senpai—no, wait, Misaka-senpai had locked onto Shirai.
A master of the shoulder throw, Misaka-senpai had twisted back, clamping onto Shirai's head.
Her face wore a gritted-teeth, near-meltdown expression as she bent slightly at the waist, muscles coiling before thrusting backward violently.
Shirai instantly lost the initiative, her body lurching forward uncontrollably until she was flung from Misaka-senpai's back, tracing a graceful arc through the air.
Just as Shirai's body was flung upwards, spatial ripples appeared around her once more, and she vanished without a trace.
A frustrated Misaka-senpai scanned her surroundings, only for a wine glass containing some liquid to land steadily in her hand. A small cherry rested at the bottom of the glass.
"Onee-sama~, please enjoy. This is a special drink Kuroko prepared just for you," Shirai said, leaning against the doorframe, holding an identical wine glass.
Although her combat suit was now somewhat wrinkled, it didn't hinder Shirai's performance in the slightest. She took a small sip from her glass and let out a meaningful sigh.
"Onee-sama~, today Kuroko will finally spend a world for just the two of us," Shirai's face instantly broke into a strange smile.
--+--
"Excuse us------"
"Sorry to intrude."
"Very stylish. Purple really suits you."
Footsteps sounded behind Shirai. Turning around, she saw that Natsume Sonoko, leading the Sakugawa Duo, had unexpectedly descended upon the doorway of Room 208.
"I said we shouldn't come right now, that we should give Misaka-senpai more time," Natsume Sonoko muttered under her breath, a note of helplessness in her tone.
The two rooms weren't far apart, separated only by Room 209. So it had taken just a few steps for them to find Shirai leaning against the doorframe, striking a strange pose.
"Gah!"
An inexplicable wail of despair from the depths of Shirai's soul escaped.
She stood frozen on the spot as if petrified. Even the purple combat suit seemed to turn pale because of her. The drink in her wine glass sloshed out unconsciously.
"My apologies, please wait a moment," a hand grabbed the collar of Shirai's outfit from behind, followed by the sound of the door being slammed shut.
Natsume Sonoko and the others looked at each other, somewhat at a loss.
They could intermittently hear dull thuds, like hard objects being struck, coming from inside, accompanied by someone's mournful cries.
"Is Shirai-san going to be okay?" Saten Ruiko asked uncertainly, a look of shock on her face. We're all middle schoolers, yet Shirai-san is so unique, liking to wear such... distinctly mature clothing.
"As expected of a Tokiwadai young lady, so mature," Uiharu, however, accepted it rather quickly, even seeing it as a sign of sophistication—perhaps influenced by those shoujo novels she read.
"She should be fine, probably," Natsume Sonoko, who had more or less gotten used to Shirai's antics by now, replied promptly.
The closed door remained shut for about three or four minutes before slowly opening again. Probably feeling it was very impolite to keep guests waiting outside, Misaka-senpai now wore an apologetic expression.
"My sincerest apologies for that," Misaka-senpai took a deep breath, suppressing the nameless fury within, and shot a fierce glare at Shirai—who had now changed back into her school uniform and was sitting obediently, albeit helplessly, on the edge of the bed.
"Sorry for intruding." x3
"Misaka-senpai's room is so different from Natsume-san's," Uiharu remarked with feeling, stroking the clean, smooth comforter on the bed. She secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, Misaka-senpai and the others don't sleep on sofas.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
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If you guys wanna check it out.