episode_0079

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Yozora’s Special Selection of 21 Romance Manga.

—Or rather, 21 Manga Disguised as Porn.

To roughly summarize the plots of the manga lying around:

Most of them involved a guy and a girl colliding over some trivial incident.

Something as minor as accidentally discovering the other’s unusual private life.

Like, the flashiest kid at school turning out to be a homebody too busy taking care of a younger sibling.

Or the cheerful classmate who seemed completely uninterested in subculture secretly being a cosplayer as a hobby.

To put it even more simply, maybe the rude jerk you hated wasn’t actually that bad once you got to know them.

Well, something along those lines.

From there, the story unfolds entirely from the protagonist’s first-person perspective.

Mostly, the protagonist would stare at the other person, thinking, “What the hell is this guy’s deal?”

Meanwhile, the heroine being observed remained blissfully unaware.

As they started talking more often,

or coincidentally ran into each other at a festival,

or grew closer and got invited to each other’s homes,

they’d tick off every cliché in the genre one by one.

And by the time the heroine and protagonist’s feelings aligned—

They’d do it.

Whether rough or gentle, the details varied,

but I skipped all of it because, despite reading through, it was just nauseating, not particularly fun.

Anyway.

They do it.

Se…

…

…x.

“……”

That’s why my head hurts.

…To elaborate a little:

[Seo Woojin]

—Your place is farther than I thought.

—Is it because the houses near the academy aren’t great?

Our dear teacher Seo Woojin, keeping his distance so as not to be spotted by other students and forced to explain.

Meanwhile, I, who had boldly invited him over, was now busy agonizing over the realization: “Wait. Did I just invite a guy to my place first?”

This situation.

Even if Woojin is Yozora’s boyfriend,

doesn’t it resemble something straight out of a manga or novel?

I’m playing the role of the observant protagonist,

and Woojin, who’s texting me without a care, fits the role of the oblivious heroine.

And if that’s the case, doesn’t that mean something is waiting at the end?

Embarrassingly, that kind of degenerate thought kept surfacing and vanishing in my head.

79

“Kinda disappointing.”

“…Huh?”

Inside the elevator ascending rapidly.

His voice reached me lightly.

“It’s not as amazing as I expected.”

“W-what kind of place were you imagining? No, wait—you were imagining?”

“Something rivaling a hotel? I figured it’d at least be on that level.”

“…There’s nothing like that around here. Even if there were, I wouldn’t want to live there.”

“…Ah. So you didn’t buy it because it wasn’t available.”

“……”

I’m not sure if he was trying to dispel the awkward air

or if this was just an extension of our conversation practice.

If it was the former, he kinda succeeded.

If the latter, I failed spectacularly by failing to keep the conversation going.

But honestly, I don’t know.

I’m too distracted by Woojin standing right next to me.

“……”

“……”

Thanks to my miraculous communication skills, the elevator fell silent.

Even the faint hum of the elevator’s machinery had disappeared.

My head hurt.

Because Woojin was making all sorts of thoughts swarm in my mind!

If I had to pick the biggest reason…

How the hell do I exorcise the perverted demon in my head?

Casually pressed against the elevator wall, I pretended not to care about Woojin,

pretended to be pondering dinner,

and made the most bored face I could while wiping the sweat off my palms.

…First, let’s establish one thing.

Woojin probably isn’t thinking anything weird.

I’m well aware that what I’m imagining is just degenerate delusion.

But because I am a degenerate,

instead of the clean image of the kind, kind health teacher that students see,

…Master… or something like that—

the embarrassing image only Yozora knows kept overlapping in my mind.

Of course, it’d probably be fine most of the time.

It’s just me overreacting.

He seems like the type to separate work and personal life,

so there’s no way he’d show that side of himself to me, right?

So I should just stop thinking like this.

It’s rude to Woojin, who’s helping me without asking for anything in return.

“……”

This was already my 20th time reaching that conclusion.

The 20-minute trip from the academy to my place—

this cycle repeated every minute.

…If only Yozora hadn’t recommended those kinds of manga, I wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.

Ding. The elevator stopped.

Letting out my 21st sigh, I slung my bag back over my shoulder and stepped forward.

The sound of sneakers shuffling, followed by Woojin’s firm loafers leisurely covering the distance.

Just as I reached the front door and was about to tap the pitch-black keypad—

I flinched at a sudden voice.

“Soo-ah.”

“…W-what?”

It wasn’t anyone else.

Just Woojin, staring at me intently from the side.

Come to think of it, he’s taller than I expected.

“Shouldn’t you cover the keypad when entering the password?”

“…It’s fine. You don’t know the first-floor lobby code anyway.”

“Hmm.”

“O-or you could just turn away…”

“I was going to, but you’re way too careless. …I’ll turn around, so hurry up.”

“……”

His tone was ambiguously teacher-like,

yet also ambiguously friend-like.

It didn’t feel like he was talking to a peer, but rather to someone five years younger.

Then again, even though we’re both 20, he is a health teacher, so that’s probably why.

He turned his whole body away and leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone.

…He looks way too docile to be called Master.

Is he texting Yozora right now?

Or another girl…

Ugh.

Let’s not dig into that.

Who knows what’s there.

Getting tangled up with him over girl problems sounds exhausting.

Brushing off my curiosity, I stepped inside.

“…Oh, you’re ba—?”

And immediately locked eyes with the cleaning lady, who was hard at work as usual.

Well, more accurately, Woojin locked eyes with her, not me.

“You’re back…?”

“……”

Normally, we’re close enough to joke around sometimes,

but the way she kept glancing at me now was extremely uncomfortable.

It was like…

Her eyes screamed she’d just discovered a secret boyfriend I’d been hiding.

If I let this drag on, the misunderstandings would only pile up.

Licking my lips nervously, I cut her off before the quick-witted lady could bolt.

“He’s a friend. Just a friend from the academy.”

“Ah, a friend.”

“Yeah. Say hello. Quick. She helps out around the house.”

“Hello.”

Good. A nod was enough.

I slipped off my white long-padding and handed it to her before dragging Woojin to my room.

The cleaning was already done, so it didn’t matter.

…Though the bookshelf in the corner, packed with manga, was a little embarrassing.

But it’s fine.

He probably already figured it out when we met at the bookstore last time.

Now, time to practice…

“……”

Practice.

Where?

There’s only a bed in here.

Do we just stand?

Or should we go to the living room?

But then the cleaning lady would see us.

So maybe here’s better…

…?

…W-wait.

Isn’t bringing a guy straight to my bedroom way weirder—

“You like manga, huh?”

“…Huh?”

His soft voice snapped me back.

Turning, I saw Woojin leisurely pacing in front of the bookshelf.

Why bring it up when he already knew?

“I don’t know much about romance manga, but I recognize a few famous ones. Like Summer Snow.”

Instead of pulling any out, he skimmed with his eyes before stopping at one and smiling.

Honestly, it wasn’t particularly famous.

It had gotten a volume release, so it wasn’t a complete flop, but I could name plenty more popular titles on the spot.

At least 80% of the manga on that shelf were more well-known than the one he picked.

Ugh.

If he’d reached just a little further to the right, he could’ve grabbed a real hit that sold over 30 million copies.

…Well, he did say he only followed sports manga.

Maybe he just doesn’t know other genres.

No reason to be disappointed.

It was just a little funny how he pretended to know.

Plopping onto the soft bed, I spoke up.

“…You really don’t know, huh? That one’s not famous.”

“Really? Guess I was wrong. Similar title?”

“More like the one next to it—”

“Ah, hold on.”

Just as I was about to recommend a manga even guys would like, Woojin cut me off and pulled out another.

Oh, that one sold pretty well.

It matched my tastes, too.

It wouldn’t make my personal top five,

but it’d comfortably fit in a top ten.

“This one’s kinda famous, right?”

“…Yeah. Probably close to 10 million copies.”

“10 million? How much does that even earn?”

“I heard the author got around 4 billion…?”

Letting out a light whistle, he flipped through the book.

Woojin kept pulling out manga, asking questions about each one.

“What about this? I feel like I’ve heard of it.”

“30 million. It’s huge in Korea, so you probably have.”

“So over 10 billion earned. Just from this.”

Some were genuine hits, loved by millions.

“This one only has two volumes. Is it a short series?”

“……”

Others weren’t as popular but were personal favorites.

“You read obscure ones too. Do you just find these on your own?”

“K-kinda. Yeah.”

“Feels like a deep-sea exploration team.”

“Haha…”

…But,

it felt like a waste to just dismiss them as “obscure manga.”

My mouth itched to say more.

“Um, that one…”

“Yeah?”

“It is short, but the author packed everything they needed into it, so it doesn’t feel short…”

To summarize:

The story’s actually good.

On a reread, you notice hidden foreshadowing.

The characters—especially the heroine—are incredibly well-rounded.

I didn’t time it, but I probably rambled for a solid 10 minutes about that one book.

And then—

“I see. Hmm.”

“……”

Woojin, who hadn’t said a word the entire time,

finally spoke, snapping me back to reality.

…Did I just sound like a total degenerate?

Only after unloading everything did it hit me.

I didn’t invite Woojin here to talk about manga.

I brought him to practice talking to guys…

“……”

Practice talking to guys.

Lost in thought, I watched as Woojin pulled out another manga.

Now that I think about it,

this was the first time I’d talked about manga with someone for over three hours.

And with a guy, no less.

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The translation preserves the original tone, cultural nuances, and stylistic elements while ensuring natural English readability. Let me know if you’d like any refinements!