Ch.4Chapter 1. A Familiar Year (4)

The teacher who came in for the next class was startled to see me sitting at my desk.

She probably thought a ghost was sitting there.

Still, she conducted the class normally.

Throughout the fourth period, my mind was so preoccupied that I couldn’t really focus on the lesson.

While teaching, the female teacher seemed a bit intimidated by me sitting in the front row, closest to her, so she deliberately avoided asking me any questions. That was fortunate.

After fourth period came lunch time.

The class president looked like she wanted to say something to me, but just then, her friend behind her called out to her, making her turn around.

Being pretty with a good personality naturally means having lots of friends.

Thinking this was fortunate, I quickly got up and left the classroom.

Blending in with the students pouring out for lunch made me feel a little more at ease.

Seeing the girls in sailor uniforms and boys in gakuran gave me a strange feeling, as if this hallway belonged to the 20th century.

Well, it’s been less than three years since the 21st century began. We’re not even halfway through 2004 yet.

In Japan… I’m not sure exactly what year it is, was it called Heisei? I don’t know which system they use more commonly. I remember seeing the back page of a light novel I bought once as a child, where instead of 2004, it was written as “Heisei something” in kanji.

I didn’t know much about that back then.

Wondering where to go, I realized I still didn’t know the school’s layout well.

The exterior design looks simple, but the interior is spacious. The building has probably been expanded over the years, so the pathways might be a bit complicated.

I’ll just follow a group of moving students. That should lead me to either the cafeteria or the school store.

*

The students I followed led me to the school store.

It wasn’t like a convenience store or supermarket, but rather a system where all the items were kept inside, and you’d tell the owner at the counter what you wanted, then they’d bring it and take your money.

“…”

I was overwhelmed by the swarm of students gathered there.

Even rich kids are still teenagers after all.

Not daring to squeeze in among all that energy to buy bread, I just leaned against a nearby wall and waited for everyone to finish their purchases.

Surely something would be left.

It didn’t take long for the students to clear out.

Unlike the cafeteria where students had to eat and return their dishes, not many lingered at the school store. There were only two small tables anyway.

Most bought bread and either returned to their classrooms or went to their favorite spots to eat with friends.

“Ah, they’re sold out again.”

I heard someone grumbling from the last group of boys buying bread.

“I told you we should’ve gone to the bathroom later.”

“What was I supposed to do when I felt like I was going to wet myself? I told you to go ahead and buy some for me, I said I’d pay you back!”

“Do you know you owe me over two thousand yen that you haven’t paid back?”

“Hey, hey.”

As the two were having this somewhat embarrassing conversation, another friend tapped them on the shoulders to stop them.

The three boys’ gazes turned toward me, standing about five steps away from them.

The boy who had been complaining about almost wetting himself blushed slightly, cleared his throat loudly, and left the store, with the other two following behind, snickering.

After waiting for those students to leave, I slowly walked up to the store owner.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. All the other bread is sold out, is that okay?”

The bread the lady showed me was a cornet bread.

“I was going to buy that anyway.”

I said, handing her my coins.

*

The sky is really clear today.

When I was in high school, the rooftop was always locked.

Or rather, I think I once saw a list of “Ways Japanese Schools Differ from Anime” that said “in reality, they’re locked.” I guess this is a light novel world after all.

However, rather than just leaving it open, they had taken some safety precautions. Green metal fencing ran along the entire perimeter of the rooftop, somewhat like parking lot boundaries.

I wonder why no one else has come up here even though the rooftop is open.

You’d think there’d be at least one other loner like me.

Well, no need to think too deeply about it.

I leaned against the safety fence and opened my cornet bread wrapper.

When I first tried it, I wondered what the fuss was about, but as you chew, you slowly taste the sweetness. Well, carbohydrates are carbohydrates.

I should still figure out how to get some fat and protein though.

…Maybe I’ll look for some bean sprouts on the way back.

That thought made me sigh involuntarily. With bread in my mouth, if anyone had seen me, they might have thought I was trying to warm up my cornet bread. Good thing no one was around.

I chewed the doughy mass in my mouth and thought again.

As I’d been thinking throughout the fourth period, I had definitely read the name “Miura” in a novel before.

The reason I only recalled it belatedly was because I had never actually seen the “character” named Miura Mako.

“She was the first victim from this school.”

That must be it.

I can’t confirm it yet since I don’t watch the news or read newspapers, but there’s a killer on the loose right now. A bizarre murder case targeting women in their teens to twenties. Five victims in total. Miura was the fifth victim.

You might wonder how the world can be so peaceful with such murders happening—but isn’t that how it usually is?

Even with serial killings occurring and the culprit still at large, for most people, it’s just a distant story.

In the novel, the story began when the protagonist’s younger sister almost became the sixth victim but was saved by the heroine.

“…”

Should I save her?

No, more importantly, could I save her even if I wanted to?

The novel I suspect is the background for this world is “Tokyo Slayers.”

It’s one of those “new mythology” novels that were popular at the time.

The kind where an “ordinary protagonist” meets a “not-so-ordinary being” and their daily life gets disrupted.

In this case, the male protagonist is ordinary, and the heroine is not.

Following the trends of the time, it had unnecessarily provocative or cruel parts, and content that reeked of chuunibyou syndrome.

As you can tell from the setting that the heroine dealt with the killer, the murderer isn’t human.

“After Miura’s death, the school students became more vigilant, and the protagonist, worried about his middle school sister, walked her home and… encountered the ‘Ogre’.”

I slowly pieced the story together.

The exact date wasn’t specified. Even if it had been, I probably wouldn’t remember it after 20 years.

But since it happened before the end of the first month of the first semester, it must be soon.

“…”

I considered it again.

In this world, yokai can’t be cut with ordinary swords; they can only be cut with the heroine’s sword “Muname” (Nameless).

The protagonist can somehow threaten and kill yokai with his blood.

So…

Even if I followed Miura, there’s not much I could do to help. I’d probably just end up dying alongside her.

“Haah.”

I sighed deeply again and stuffed the rest of the cornet bread into my mouth.

Despite not being particularly short, I’m quite thin, or maybe my stomach is just small, but this was enough to satisfy my hunger.

“I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.”

I don’t know who’s responsible, but if you’re going to drop someone into another world, at least give them something to work with.

At the very least, drop me into a work I remember clearly.

*

“Kurosawa.”

“Huh?”

In the end, I couldn’t come to any conclusion before the last period of school ended.

As promised, Teacher Suzuki introduced me to the class again during the homeroom period, and I had to recite my name in front of everyone once more, much to my displeasure.

My displeasure must have been quite evident, as Teacher Suzuki didn’t ask me to do anything more.

After a few brief announcements, homeroom ended.

And as I was about to head home, Miura called out to me from behind.

“How far are you walking?”

“…I’m going to the station.”

“Really?”

After hearing my answer, Miura thought for a moment, then turned around and said:

“Hey, guys. Sorry, but could you go ahead without me today? I have something to talk about with Kurosawa.”

The other girls nodded at Miura’s request.

Now that I look at them, they all have distinct personalities.

How should I put it… except for Miura, they all give off a “gyaru” vibe. One had blonde tanned skin, another was fair-skinned but had long hair, and their skirts were extremely short. While I shouldn’t judge people by appearances, they honestly looked like the type who liked to party.

“I guess we have no choice since the teacher said so…”

“Harumi!”

Miura quickly interjected, but the girl called Harumi just shrugged.

By the way, with that appearance in a sailor uniform, she gives the impression she might ride a motorcycle. …Does she actually ride one?

“Kurosawa, can we walk home together today? Just to the station.”

“…Sure.”

When I nodded, Miura visibly exhaled in relief.

“Good luck, Miss Class President.”

The girl called Harumi patted Miura’s shoulder, turned around briskly, and the black-haired girl beside her gave a slight wave before following Harumi.

She didn’t even pay attention to me.

I preferred it that way, though.

“Shall we go, then?”

Miura asked as I was quietly watching the two of them walk away.

I nodded.

*

“Don’t mind what she said. She’s just the type who says whatever she’s thinking.”

“I don’t mind.”

The teacher probably told them to look after me during lunch.

It’s understandable to be concerned when someone hasn’t attended school for a week. While the teacher genuinely might be worried about the student, there’s also the matter of her own performance record.

Having a problem student in her first year as a homeroom teacher could complicate her future career.

“So… where did you go during lunch?”

“To the rooftop.”

“Oh, I see.”

“…”

This isn’t working.

It’s been so long since I’ve talked to a girl that I don’t know how to lead the conversation.

Plus, now I’m a high school girl too.

“Is your home far from here?”

“Yes. About an hour by subway.”

I left out the 30-minute walk.

“Um… where do you live?”

Good, the conversation is finally flowing.

“In Saitama.”

“Saitama?”

Miura blinked.

“I see.”

She fell into thought for a moment.

“This might be a bit intrusive to ask, but why didn’t you come to school last week?”

“…”

“Ah, s-sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about…”

I paused my steps briefly.

But I also didn’t want to tell her I was living in a single room in an old Japanese-style apartment.

It might cause unnecessary concern.

Thinking she might have said something wrong to make me stop walking, Miura fidgeted with her hands clasped in front of her chest.

…

Alright, I’ll save her.

Even hearing about the death of a complete stranger can be upsetting, let alone a kind classmate who sits behind me at school.

“Miura.”

“Yes?”

“Do you and your friends have places you usually hang out?”

“Huh? Oh, we do.”

“Could you show me sometime?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve hardly ever been to Tokyo, so I don’t know anything about it.”

This wasn’t really something someone living in neighboring Saitama would say. Even if you just lived and worked in Saitama, you could easily take the subway to Tokyo for fun, so saying you’ve never been there sounds odd.

But consider this:

I’m currently a delinquent student who skipped school for a week without permission.

Plus, I’m skinny and my hair is unkempt.

Anyone would assume I have family problems.

If I give off a “I don’t want to go home” vibe, most kind-hearted people would find it hard to refuse.

And she seems like a conscientious class president.

She should follow the teacher’s instructions, right?

“Um… sure.”

Miura responded somewhat dazedly to my sudden enthusiasm.

*

“Kurosawa, you’re a good singer!”

That’s what Miura said as we left the karaoke place.

And I was a bit surprised too.

I figured being able to speak Japanese effortlessly was a perk of coming to this world, but I didn’t expect my singing skills to improve as well.

My voice had a youthful quality, quite different from the gloomy tone I usually speak with.

…Though I only sang one old song that was fairly well-known in Korea too.

Miura, who had initially seemed awkward taking me around, visibly relaxed.

Now she was looking at me as someone who, while a bit peculiar, was relatively normal.

Perhaps my naturally pretty appearance earned me some extra points.

“Oh, right.”

After leaving the karaoke place, Miura clapped her hands once as if she’d forgotten something, then rummaged through her bag and took out her phone.

“Should we exchange email addresses?”

…I’m glad I at least have a phone.

I breathed an internal sigh of relief as I pulled my phone out of my bag.

*

Wow, it’s easy to befriend high school girls.

Though the most essential prerequisite was having a high school girl’s body.

Miura, who had spoken to me somewhat awkwardly on the first day, called out to me without hesitation from the next day onward.

Of course, she still addressed me as “Kurosawa,” using my last name, but that was unavoidable. I called her by her last name too, so it didn’t matter.

I also got to know the two gyaru friends of Miura and learned their names.

“By the way, have you ever thought about changing that hairstyle?”

The tanned gyaru with a cream bun in her mouth was named Harumi, with the last name Fukuda.

I just call her Fukuda. Since she doesn’t say anything about it, I assume it’s fine to call her that.

“…It takes too long in the morning.”

“That’s true. Kurosawa does have a long commute.”

Miura chimed in.

“Wouldn’t it be better to cut it a bit shorter?”

“It’s a waste.”

“A waste, huh…”

But it was a bit of a waste.

While my style might be gloomy, my hair quality was actually quite good.

“Even a proper ponytail can be a hassle~”

Yamashita, sitting next to Fukuda, commented while looking at her phone.

Her name was Yamashita Yuu, written in hiragana without the long vowel sound.

Since we weren’t that close either, I addressed her by her last name, Yamashita.

Well, I rarely initiated conversations, so it was more like a designation in my mind.

“How about just tying up the ends of your hair? It would be much more comfortable than having it all loose, especially since it’s so long.”

Is that so?

Before I could respond, Fukuda abruptly stood up and came behind me.

Without giving me a chance to dodge, she grabbed my hair and tied the ends with the hair tie from her wrist.

“Ta-da!”

“It doesn’t look that different?”

Yamashita, tilting her head slightly to see my hair, commented.

“No, it’s totally different! It looks much neater! What do you think, Mako-chan?”

“Won’t it come undone quickly like that?”

“No, that’s not the point…”

When Miura expressed a completely different concern, Fukuda scratched her head and sighed deeply.

…Anyway, this was how we spent our breaks.

In terms of energy levels, Fukuda had the most, followed by Miura, then Yamashita.

But the center of the group was definitely Miura. Perhaps it was due to her positive energy.

However, while we got along during breaks—

“Oh, Kurosawa?”

During lunch, Miura called out to me as I was getting up from my seat.

“Would you like to have lunch together today?”

“Ah…”

“Not today either?”

“Hey, hey, leave her be.”

Fukuda patted Miura’s back and said:

“She seems to be the type who savors solitude. She said she doesn’t want to.”

It’s not that I don’t want to…

I just didn’t want to show them that I was only eating a single cornet bread.

But I guess that does mean I don’t want to.

I left Miura looking a bit disappointed.

*

While it was fortunate to have become friends with Miura’s group, there was one problem.

Hanging out with them drained my money quickly.

It’s not like we were doing anything extravagant. Just typical wholesome activities that teenage high school girls might do after school.

The issue was that I didn’t have much money for these wholesome activities.

“Right now” wasn’t a problem.

But think about it:

If a person living alone has about 20 million won in their account, it might last them about a year.

But if you add expenses like going to karaoke or buying expensive desserts at cafes, the situation changes.

Plus, I had to pay the hefty school tuition.

…I really need to find a part-time job that pays well as soon as possible.

“Kurosawa.”

Miura’s call pulled me back from my thoughts to reality.

We were sitting on a bench in front of the station.

The days weren’t very long yet, so the sky was already turning orange with the sunset.

While we said we were hanging out, we were still high school students.

After browsing a shopping mall and visiting a karaoke place, there wasn’t much else to do. And it felt a bit odd to just kill time at a family restaurant.

But since the girls said they were reluctant to part, we were sitting on a bench, chatting.

Well, the conversation was mainly between the standing Miura and the seated Fukuda and Yamashita, while I sat a bit apart, just listening.

“Is something bothering you?”

“…”

Well, yes.

But I can’t exactly say I’m worried you might die.

At first, I just didn’t want to feel bad about the student sitting behind me being murdered, but after becoming friends, I simply wanted to save her because she was a friend.

The problem was that I still hadn’t found a way to do so.

“…I just naturally have a gloomy expression.”

“That’s true.”

“You’re quite self-aware.”

Fukuda, sipping her iced coffee through a straw, responded, and Yamashita nodded beside her, causing Miura to press her hand against her forehead.

“Shall we head home then?”

“Oof,” Fukuda grunted as she stood up.

“Yeah, there’s nothing else to do.”

Yamashita said, also standing up, and I was about to follow suit when—

—Looks delicious.

—I heard those words.

A chill ran down my spine.

I quickly looked around, but there were only ordinary people nearby.

However, the goosebumps on my body wouldn’t go away.

There was definitely something nearby.

“Kurosawa?”

“…It’s nothing. I just thought I heard something wrong.”

“Really?”

Miura tilted her head in confusion at my response.

As I stared at her puzzled expression, I thought:

I’ve finally found it.