— — — — — —
Faculty office—
Shizuka Hiratsuka sat with one leg crossed over the other, staring at Oikawa Tōru with an expression that clearly spelled trouble.
"Explain."
"How boring does my class have to be for you to fall asleep in it?"
Lately, several teachers had mentioned that Oikawa's attitude toward studying had improved drastically.
Truthfully, though, Shizuka hadn't called him in just to scold him. She wanted to see whether he'd really come to terms with his parents' death.
"Sensei, how could your class possibly be boring?" Oikawa said smoothly. "I just didn't sleep well last night. I meant to nap through one period of math and somehow overslept into yours."
Based on what he knew about Shizuka, lying would only make things worse.
Hachiman's fate was a cautionary tale. Oikawa had no desire to personally experience her combat skills.
"So my math class is boring, then?"
A grumbling old man's voice drifted from behind him. The math teacher had apparently just returned to the office.
Oikawa pretended not to hear.
Shizuka shot him a look, then awkwardly greeted the math teacher.
"By the way," she continued, turning back to Oikawa, "that essay I asked you to submit. Why haven't you turned it in?"
"Which one?"
Her gaze sharpened. "Your outlook on the future."
"Oh. That one."
He remembered now.
Right before the original owner of this body took his life, Shizuka had assigned him that exact essay.
But if someone was planning to die, writing about the future wasn't exactly high on the to-do list.
"Sensei… I honestly didn't have much of a future to look forward to."
He scratched his head, then added with faint indignation, "And you can't single me out like that. You only assigned it to me."
There was a sudden swish as Shizuka stood up.
Before Oikawa could react, she grabbed his arm and tugged off his wristband.
A vicious scar was revealed.
"What is this?"
"So that's why you wore a wristband in this heat."
Her eyes reddened. "You promised me you'd live properly. Is this your idea of living properly?"
She sounded furious.
And guilty.
Guilty that she hadn't noticed sooner.
"Sensei, I can explain."
Panic flared in Oikawa's chest. He couldn't handle women crying.
"I did think about dying back then," he admitted quickly. "But I don't anymore. I've decided to live seriously."
"You asked about my future, right? I… I want to become a writer. I only fell asleep in class because I stayed up all night writing."
Shizuka narrowed her eyes. "You're not lying?"
"It's true. I can send you the manuscript if you want."
Sometimes, overly responsible teachers were harder to deal with than strict ones.
One lie required a hundred more to patch it up.
Luckily, this wasn't a lie. Writing light novels wasn't exactly shameful.
"A writer, huh? Not a bad goal."
She released his arm and sat back down.
After a moment, she added, "As far as I know, you don't have any friends in class, right?"
"There's a club I advise…"
Oikawa's heart skipped.
Was she about to rope him into Yukino Yukinoshita's Service Club?
"Sensei, I don't plan on joining any clubs."
He had zero interest in solving complicated teenage emotional crises for free.
Shizuka raised a brow. "Reason."
"I work part-time at a convenience store. And I just agreed to tutor Kawasaki in math. I don't have the time."
"You're tutoring Kawasaki in math?"
Her skepticism was obvious. "If I recall correctly, you scored single digits on your last math test."
"That's history!" Oikawa shot back dramatically. "We belong to today!"
Who said a former academic disaster couldn't become a genius?
"That so?" she said dryly.
"Ask the math teacher. I got full marks on the last test."
Both of them turned to look at the math teacher, who had clearly been eavesdropping.
The old man glared at Oikawa resentfully.
'You sleep in my class and now you want me to vouch for you? Shameless.'
"…True," he muttered reluctantly.
"You see?" Oikawa pressed. "I'm not lying. If you still doubt me, call Kawasaki in. She can testify."
He was pulling out every stop just to avoid joining the Service Club.
"Fine. I'll believe you."
Shizuka waved him off.
"But don't forget to send me your novel. Maybe I'll even give you some pointers."
And just like that, the "friendly chat" ended.
Oikawa trudged back to class.
Dealing with women was really exhausting.
---
Five days passed in a blink.
It was finally the day Dengeki Bunko released the first-round shortlist.
In the Literature Club room, Oikawa was tutoring Saki Kawasaki while absentmindedly refreshing Dengeki's website.
After that conversation, Shizuka had read his manuscript and, surprisingly, opened the floodgates.
With a grand flourish of her pen, she'd approved him as president of the Literature Club.
Kawasaki became its sole member.
To this day, she believed he'd founded the club just to make tutoring her more convenient.
She was deeply touched.
His phone buzzed.
Utako Kasumi had messaged him on LINE.
"Today's the first-round announcement, Oikawa-kun."
"You won't get eliminated, right? That would be tragic!"
"Well, if you do, just wait for the next publisher's results. You did mass submissions anyway, hehe."
What was with this woman lately?
Her tone had grown increasingly sarcastic.
"First-round shortlist?" he typed back. "Isn't that basically free?"
"Surely no one gets nervous over a first-round announcement, right?"
He had just hit send when—
Darkness fell.
Two towering "mountain peaks" blocked out the light in front of him.
Kawasaki's voice was icy.
"Oikawa. I'm paying you to tutor me, not to flirt with some girl online."
.
.
.