Jinseigyakuten Uwakisare Enzai wo Kiserareta Orega Gakuenichi no Bisyoujo ni Natsukareru [LN] Bahasa Indonesia

 Chapter Two

That same night, after reconciling with Chiharu. In my room.

Sprawled on my bed, I stared at the glowing screen of my smartphone.

Displayed there were the messages exchanged with Chiharu.

“No more unreasonable summonings like before, so don’t worry.”  

“I’m not scared of being alone anymore. I’ll trust the people around me more.”  

“But if I ever feel lonely, I hope you’ll come to me.”

And then, a barrage of heart emojis followed. Talk about lovestruck.

The prickly impression she gave off when we first met has come full circle, replaced by an almost disarming sincerity.

Setting the phone aside, I let out a deep breath. I sank into the realization that I’d become romantically entangled with Chiharu Okusora—

“…Heh, heh heh, BWAHAHAHA! Everything went according to plan! I’ve successfully claimed my first target!”  

I burst into laughter on the bed, my entire body trembling with unrestrained glee.  

“I’ve done it! This exhilaration, this pounding in my chest, this triumph of reclaiming my talent…!”

Poor Chiharu, but I only made her fall for me to seize her talent. Every word I spoke to her was calculated. Every gesture, every step—mere techniques born of my “talent for romance.”  

My creed is to act solely for my own gain. As long as I can exploit a talent, I’m satisfied!

“HAHAHA! HAHA! Ha… ha…”

Gradually, my triumphant cackling lost its vigor. The exhaustion must have hit harder than I expected. Even the energy to laugh had drained away. I flopped back onto the bed, quietly contemplating my next steps.

For now, there are two targets who possess innate talents—Nagisa Fukami and Shiori Mutsukado.

With my momentum unstoppable, nothing can stand in my way. I’ll make both of them fall for me. I’ll have to pause my search for new talents until then, but no matter. If I wrap this up quickly, it won’t be an issue.

I will reclaim all one hundred and eight of my lost talents and walk the path of the perfect genius once more!

◆

The next day. The moment lunch break began, I bolted out of the classroom.

Naturally, my goal was to make Nagisa Fukami and Shiori Mutsukado fall in love with me. When I briefly interacted with them before, both had taken the rumors about me at face value, making it impossible to hold a proper conversation. Approaching them without a strategy would leave me with no chance of victory.

Like with Chiharu, if I can muster the resolve to pursue them romantically, my “talent for romance” should shine through. I need to find something about them that I could feasibly fall for.

First, I organized the information I’d gathered. Even while wooing Chiharu, I’d taken opportunities to subtly observe Nagisa and Shiori’s movements. Most of my efforts went into Chiharu, so I couldn’t investigate them thoroughly, but I still gleaned some useful details.

If their routines haven’t changed, Nagisa should be eating in the cafeteria, and Shiori in the courtyard.

At the moment, neither target takes priority over the other. The only thing to watch out for is ensuring Chiharu—now my girlfriend—doesn’t catch me flirting with other girls. She’s likely eating lunch with friends in the classroom right now, so I should have some freedom to maneuver.

I’ll tread carefully to avoid jeopardling suspicion in my existing relationship while boldly forging new romantic paths. A genius of love like me can surely pull off multiple relationships at once…!

Psyching myself up, I decided to stake out the cafeteria first.

As I waited for Nagisa to show, I recalled her profile.

Nagisa Fukami, Class 4, Year 2.

Slender and well-proportioned, with short black hair that brushes her shoulders.  

Mature and alluring, she sports a sensual mole near her lips and exudes an aloof aura. A stunning beauty.  

Labeled a flawless “cool beauty” who excels at everything, she’s considered an untouchable flower on a lofty peak. Also, apparently quite popular with the guys.

When I spoke to her briefly before, she struck me as brimming with self-assured confidence.

Let’s be blunt, Nagisa Fukami is the type of girl I despise.

No matter how perfect her face and figure are, her personality is an utter failure. Strong-willed, prideful, and overconfident, she looks down on others and throws her weight around to protect her inflated sense of dignity.

I’ve never met a more insufferable woman. Just recalling our past conversation makes my blood boil.

But with my skills, making even this lofty flower fall in love will be child’s play. I’ll bring her crashing down to earth while I’m at it. I’ll show her what a true genius looks like!

“There she is… Nagisa Fukami.”

In the bustling cafeteria, she appeared, parting the crowd like a blade.

Bathed in her unapproachable aura, students instinctively cleared a path for her.

Back in my prime, I could’ve scattered people from a mile away with a mere glance. Nagisa’s influence is hardly impressive by comparison. Not bad for a mere mortal, though…

No time for petty rivalries. I sharpened my focus and observed her closely.

If my read on her is correct, Nagisa naturally assumes she’s superior to everyone around her. I hate to admit it, but her mindset might resemble mine before I lost my talents. If so, she won’t even entertain a conversation unless she deems me worthy of her.

This time, though, I have a trump card. I slid into a seat at her table with calculated confidence.

Nagisa’s delicate brows twitched as she shot me a glance, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“…You. I thought we’d never cross paths again. Don’t you ever learn?”

“You seem to be under a misconception, so let me clarify: I’m not here to flirt with you.”

“Every boy who’s into me starts with that attitude.”

“Being compared to those common rabble is an insult of the highest order. You called me the school’s most hated guy before, but if you’ve heard that rumor, you must’ve also heard the other one. The flawless genius who can do anything—that’s me, Jun-nosuke Hatsu.”

“…”

“I understand the heart of a solitary genius better than anyone. You and I, we’re cut from the same cloth.”

I locked eyes with her sharp, almond-shaped gaze. The piercing light in her eyes flickered ever so slightly.

This was my ace in the hole. No one could rival the genius I was when I possessed all one hundred and eight talents. Anyone who knew me back then would have to acknowledge that truth.

I alone have the potential to be Nagisa Fukami’s true confidant.

If her mindset is truly akin to mine, she should feel at least a spark of kinship. I loathe incompetent fools, but I can respect a capable genius.

If I can seize this thread of connection, I’ll sweep her off her feet in one fell swoop.

“—You’re wrong,” she said coldly.  

“…Huh?”

My shoulders slumped. Blinking in disbelief, I watched as Nagisa delivered her icy retort.

“I’m nothing like you.”

“…Oh? What’s that now? Don’t tell me you think you’re better than me?”

My cheeks twitched involuntarily. Before me, Nagisa muttered with a bored air.

“You could never understand how I feel. We’re not the same.”

“…”

“Don’t bother me again. Switching tables is such a hassle.”

Picking up her daily special tray, Nagisa strode off with graceful poise.

I stared after her in stony silence, too furious to speak—a first for me.

“She really is the type I can’t stand… ‘Not the same,’ she says? Who does she think she is?!”

Storming out of the cafeteria, I stomped down the hallway, bellowing my rage from the depths of my gut.

My failure with Nagisa was just a matter of bad chemistry. My romantic techniques should work.

To prove it, I headed to the courtyard. Shiori Mutsukado would be eating lunch there.

In hindsight, while neither target held higher priority, there might’ve been a difference in difficulty. Nagisa will be a tough nut to crack, but I believe Shiori Mutsukado will be far easier to handle.

Why? Because Shiori is always alone, whether during breaks between classes or at lunch.

Hers isn’t the solitude of the aloof—it’s plain loneliness. Like a timid animal fleeing from predators, she retreats to safe territory to avoid others’ gazes.

“Found her!”

Shiori was in the courtyard, eating lunch on a bench. Her ahoge swayed gently in the breeze.

It’s a bit pitiful, but her misfortune was catching the eye of a cunning lion like me. She slipped away when we talked before, but this time, I won’t let her escape.

With a timid opponent, flustering her should be easy. Still, I’ll start with kindness.

Shiori was wary of me, given my notorious reputation. I need to show her I’m not someone to fear, then mix in bolder moves to seize control of this budding romance. That’s the technique to win Shiori over.

Just as I stepped forward to approach her—I tripped over the ground.

Caught up in my enthusiasm, I missed a step. I barely avoided falling flat.

Skidding to a halt with my shoes scraping the earth, I inadvertently lunged right into Shiori’s line of sight.

“…Guh!?”

Shiori’s reaction was almost pitiable in its intensity. She swallowed the omelet she’d been chewing in one gulp, her rosy complexion draining to a ghostly pallor as she began to flail. …Oh no, I messed up!

“Hey, are you okay!?”

I hurriedly grabbed the water bottle beside her, pouring tea into its cap to serve as a cup. I pressed it into her trembling hands. Shiori downed it in one go.

Sliding onto the bench next to her, I rubbed her back gently.

Slowly, the color returned to Shiori’s face, her healthy hue restored. I let out a sigh of relief.

After a moment, Shiori regained her composure, taking a deep breath. Then, slowly, almost lethargically, she turned her gaze upward to meet mine.

“…Eek!”  

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you—”

“Eek, a murderer…!”

“I’ve gone beyond startling to being gravely misunderstood.”

No murderer would use such convoluted tactics. Common sense should make that obvious, but Shiori’s fear was viscerally real. She hastily packed up her bento and made to flee.

Not this time. I blocked her path, determined not to repeat past mistakes. I needed to prove I meant no harm and ease her excessive wariness.

“Calm down. No need to make a scene.”

Stepping forward, Shiori yelped, “Eek!?” and stumbled back onto the bench.

Whoops, too intimidating. I plastered on my brightest smile, crouched to meet her eye level, and spoke as gently as I could to avoid scaring her further.

“I don’t mean to frighten you. Look, you were still eating, right? Don’t mind me. I’m just here because this spot’s calming.”

That said, behind my smile, I had no intention of leaving things there!

When I’d researched Shiori earlier, I caught her doodling shoujo manga-style sketches in a notebook. She might bite at topics like anime or manga.

I’m not well-versed in that subculture, but letting her ramble about her interests could ease her tension and lower her guard. I’d play the attentive listener.

I had the perfect plan in mind—but.

“…I-I’m gonna die… It was a short life…”

Shiori, clutching her chestnut braids, squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear rolling down her cheek. My smile froze. She’s not even listening to me.

She looked like her soul was about to drift away. I snapped my fingers repeatedly near her ear, trying to snap her back to reality.

“Get a grip! Don’t retreat into your own world—come back to reality! You can still make it!”

“…Is there… salvation…?”  

“Yes, so—huh?”

Still with her eyes closed, Shiori’s hand reached out and gripped the hem of my uniform.

“I-I see… It’s not time to give up yet… Maybe you’re right.”

Her shoulders trembled, but she slowly began to lift her eyelids.

In that instant—for some reason, I had a vision of a cornered mouse biting back at a cat.

A twig-like arm shot out, grabbing my collar.

“Hm? …GNYAA!?”

My vision lurched. A pathetic yelp escaped my throat.

A jolt of impact hit my back. Before I knew it, I was flat on the ground, staring at the sky.

My heart pounded wildly. Unable to get up right away, I craned my neck to find Shiori.

Nearby, Shiori, who’d also been sprawled out, was scrambling to her feet. If I wasn’t mistaken… she’d just thrown me with a lightning-fast tomoe-nage judo move.

Brushing dirt off her hands, Shiori glared down at me and shouted.

“D-Don’t scare me like that!”  

“…”

Isn’t that my line? Nursing a dull ache, I thought coolly.

“Ugh, p-please don’t think about killing me anymore! E-Excuse me!”

“What!? The ultimate disgrace!? At least clear up that misunderstanding before you go!”

I wasn’t about to let her escape. With sheer determination, I lunged and managed to grab her ankle.

But with a twist of her foot, she shook me off. Before I could react, she seized my wrist, clamped it between her thighs, and we both crashed to the ground again.

The warmth of her inner thighs radiated against my arm. The back of my hand pressed against her modest chest.

But such tantalizing sensations were quickly obliterated.

“GYAA! My arm’s gonna break! I give, I give, I GIVE!”

It wasn’t just a hold—she’d locked me in an armbar, a textbook ude-hishigi-juji-gatame.

Hearing my screams, Shiori flinched like a child scared of thunder, trembling violently.

Clearly, I was the one terrified here, but after I frantically tapped the ground, she released me. Clutching my aching arm, I writhed on the ground.

This time, my will to resist was thoroughly crushed. Leaving me sprawled in the dirt, Shiori bolted.

I stretched out my arm toward her shrinking figure, knowing full well I couldn’t reach her.

“…No way. My romantic techniques… completely useless against her?”

My arm fell limp, and I pressed my forehead into the dirt.

◆

After school that day.

I trudged out the school gate, head bowed, lost in thought.

What am I supposed to do? I have no idea how to make Nagisa or Shiori fall for me.

Nagisa repelled me effortlessly with an impregnable fortress of a heart. How can a mere foot soldier like me, armed with little more than bravado, breach her defenses?

◆

With Shiori, I couldn’t even manage a conversation. She unleashed a torrent of one-sided persecution complexes and pummeled me with martial arts prowess I’d never have guessed from her small, frail appearance.

I’d imagined frolicking with a puppy, only to be ambushed by a grizzly bear. Far from being less challenging than Nagisa, she’s starting to seem more difficult.

I possess the “talent for romance” and make every effort to find even the tiniest redeeming quality in my targets. So why are there girls I can’t make fall for me?

“What’s different from when I wooed Chiharu…? I haven’t a clue.”

I rested a finger on my chin, muttering to myself. Just then, a light impact hit me from behind.

Arms wrapped around my waist in a hug. A glimpse of golden hair fluttering in the momentum clued me in to who it must be.

“Chiharu?”  

“Hehe, Jun-nosuke~!”

Chiharu’s beaming face peeked out from beside my waist.

She nuzzled my side, purring like a cat, and I couldn’t help but stroke her soft, fluffy blonde hair in return.

“What’s up? Your house is in the opposite direction, isn’t it? And what about your other friends?”

“…I wanna walk home with you, Jun-nosuke.”

She pouted, her lips puckering, and hugged me even tighter.

If emotions were visible, Chiharu’s eyes would surely be radiating a shower of hearts.

A fleeting thought crossed my mind: if only Nagisa and Shiori would show even a fraction of this vulnerability.

“You were just thinking about another girl, weren’t you?”

In an instant, Chiharu’s gaze turned pitch-black, like the bottom of a scorched pot, pinning me with an accusatory stare. T-Terrifying… How did she know?

Relying on my genius “talent for romance,” I flashed a confident grin.

“N-Nope, not at all!”

My voice cracked slightly, but Chiharu’s face lit up with a radiant smile.

“Really? Okay then!”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s head home together. I’ll walk you.”

“Ugh, my boyfriend is just too perfect~…!”

Chiharu clutched her cheeks, which were practically melting with bliss.

Then she linked her arm with mine and began walking, her mood unmistakably chipper. It was a bit awkward to move, but oh well.

And so, we strolled home, chatting idly about nothing in particular.

As I felt the pure, unadulterated affection radiating from her, a growing sense of unease deepened within me.

“Chiharu, there’s something I’d like to ask.”  

“…Hm?”

She tilted her head, caught off guard by the shift from our casual banter.

“It might be tough to answer, but I want you to be honest, no matter how embarrassing it feels.”

I stared intently into her eyes, as if trying to peer into the depths of her heart, and asked:

“Why did you fall for me?”

“You seem bad but you’re surprisingly kind, you get all worked up so boyishly it’s cute, you’re honest about chasing what you want, you let me get away with being a little selfish, and also—”  

“Whoa, whoa, too many, too many!?”

Not a hint of hesitation or shame! Is she invincible?

My hyper-attuned observational senses, primed to catch every nuance of emotion, were overwhelmed by the flood of affection pouring from her. I nearly short-circuited, teetering on the edge of some emotional meltdown.

Cut off mid-sentence, Chiharu puffed out her cheeks in dissatisfaction.

“I was just answering your question!”

“C-Could you maybe narrow it down to one…?”

 

“Ugh, don’t make it so hard!”

Despite her grumbling, Chiharu pressed her index finger to her cheek, deep in thought.

“Hmm, if I had to pick… maybe because I felt like our hearts connected?”  

“Our hearts…?”

It was an abstract, almost elusive phrase. I’d hoped for a concrete hint to break through my current impasse, but perhaps that was too optimistic.

Yet, heedless of my disappointment, Chiharu continued.

“When you said I shone brighter than anyone else, Jun-nosuke, it made me so happy. I’d always wanted someone to truly see me.”

“…”

“When I realized you understood my feelings… even though I used to dislike you, suddenly you felt so dear to me.”

Blushing shyly, Chiharu spoke with unwavering sincerity to the very end.

Seeing her like that, words slipped naturally from my mouth.

“…Sorry. No, thank you… for answering, I mean.”

“No biggie! But since you made me say something so embarrassing, you owe me one, got it~?”

Chiharu flashed a mischievous, devilish grin.

That cheeky, infuriating expression was somehow dazzling, too bright for me to look at directly.

“…Feelings, huh?”

When I set out to make Chiharu fall for me, I desperately tried to muster some romantic feelings myself. It was all to activate my “talent for romance,” and most of my mind was occupied with calculated schemes.

If I asked myself, Do I love Chiharu Okusora?

The honest answer would be that I can’t say I do. My goal has always been her innate talent. The connection of hearts she felt—I can’t relate to it.

But to say I felt nothing would also be untrue.

I’m human enough to have a heart. Compared to a stranger, I certainly feel a fondness for Chiharu. Yet, I can’t be sure if this affection qualifies as love. The certainty eludes me.

People can’t always accurately discern their own feelings. Emotions are murky, unstable, unreliable. Other people’s feelings are even harder to grasp. At best, we can only think we understand. I’ve always believed dwelling on it is a waste of time.

But precisely because it’s a perspective I lack… that might be the missing piece.

It’s not enough to resolve to fall in love with someone. I need to value how they feel, to cherish their emotions more deeply. If it’s advice from Chiharu herself, I’ll choose to believe it.

Because Chiharu so visibly adores me, I feel the confidence and assurance that my “talent for romance” is real. Even the sting of my recent failures feels somehow soothed.

To reclaim the future I was destined to walk as a genius, I’ll make a vow here and now.

If the current me can’t make my targets fall in love, then I’ll transform into a man who can understand others’ feelings. For Jun-nosuke Hatsu, nothing is impossible…!

◆

The next day, I went from classroom to classroom, conducting thorough inquiries.

I intended to investigate Nagisa Fukami and Shiori Mutsukado more meticulously.

My disastrous attempts at romantic approaches weren’t entirely in vain, I can say now.

Regarding one of my targets—Nagisa Fukami. When I cross-referenced my existing knowledge of her with the deeper insights gained from this round of investigation, I noticed significant discrepancies.

According to students who were in Nagisa’s class last year:

“When Nagisa was a first-year? She still kept people at arm’s length back then, but the vibe was different… From the next seat over, she seemed kind of ditzy.”

“I was paired with Nagisa as a chemistry committee member once. Her work efficiency was awful. I thought she was just clumsy, but looking back, she was probably slacking off.”

These tidbits came from people who weren’t close friends but had been near her to some degree—classmates, committee partners, or the like.

They could be dismissed as personal impressions, but they starkly contradict the current perception of Nagisa.

The most intriguing account, however, came from a boy who recently confessed to Nagisa and got rejected.

“I never would’ve guessed she was like that… I kept confessing, no matter how many times she shot me down. I figured if I could lock down a high-spec girl like Nagisa now, I’d be set for a cushy future. But she’s not the perfect girl I thought. I was totally disillusioned!”

He was an amusingly shameless opportunist, but that’s beside the point.

Many boys confess to Nagisa, much like that guy. Most are crushed by her utter indifference and give up. But a persistent few—morally dubious elites—shared similar stories.

The perfect cool beauty might be hiding a different face.

Betting on that possibility, I decided my next target would be Nagisa Fukami.

That said, rumors are just rumors. I’d need to confirm with my own eyes before any romantic gambit could begin.

After strategizing, I resolved to tail Nagisa after school.

The old Nagisa, from before she was hailed as the perfect cool beauty, reportedly showed cracks when someone got close enough. But the current Nagisa doesn’t reveal her true self so easily. To uncover her real nature, I’d have to shadow her relentlessly, from morning commute to evening return.

“…!”

Nagisa emerged from Class 4’s classroom. Keeping a careful distance, I followed her.

Observing her anew, I couldn’t help but note how her lithe, elegant frame stood out. Even her walk exuded a model’s grace. If those sharp, almond eyes met yours through her glossy black hair, any guy would be done for.

Or so I thought—until, at that very moment, a boy leapt into her path.

“Nagisa Fukami, you free today? Wanna hit the movies after this?”

“Not interested. Who even are you? Don’t talk to me so casually.”

One blow. The boy, brimming with confidence, collapsed backward, his spirit drained.

Without pausing, Nagisa didn’t so much as glance at him, striding past.

Shockingly, this wasn’t an isolated incident.

By the time she reached the school gate, Nagisa had received six confessions. Each was dispatched with a single cutting remark, leaving the boys as lifeless husks. Done for? More like massacred. She’s a serial heartbreaker.

Nagisa brushed her hair aside, her expression unfazed. As a guy, the sight sent shivers down my spine.

…She doesn’t have some talent for rendering men irreparably broken, does she? Terrifying.

Once we left the school grounds, other students faded from view. I’d half-expected fearless suitors to keep charging at her off-campus, but it seemed that was an unnecessary worry.

“Where’s this…?”

I muttered suspiciously, ducking behind a utility pole.

This was the place where I’d activated my “Sixth Sense” and confirmed Nagisa as a bearer of an innate talent.

Come to think of it, why was she here back then? It was well past dismissal time, and I don’t know what lies down the alley she’d emerged from.

Just then, Nagisa turned into that very alley.

“…If she doubles back, we might run into each other.”

I hesitated. Should I follow her into the alley?

…No, I’ll go.

Even if she spots me, I’ll just be branded a stalker. Not ideal, but… if it comes to that, I’ll fight tooth and nail to clear my name. Steeling myself, I marched boldly into the alley.

My hesitation cost me sight of her. I needed to find her quickly—

But then, I had to stop.

“A dead end? No, this is…”

In an alley lined with shuttered shops, a single storefront had a lit sign.

The sign read Uranai-ya.

“Uranai-ya… a fortune-teller’s shop?”

“Well, well. Two young folks in a row? That’s rare.”

The moment I cast a wary glance at the shop, someone stepped out.

Dressed in what must be the shop’s uniform—a jet-black robe with a hood pulled low—they looked like a dark sorcerer ready to sacrifice a goat to summon a demon. Their face was hidden, and the whole vibe was way too suspicious.

Judging by their voice and the smooth skin visible around their mouth, I pegged them as a woman in her early twenties.

“You the owner?”  

“Indeed. The mightiest part-timer in this shop.”  

“Not the owner, then?”

“Nah, nah. The real boss is my grandma, but she accidentally smashed her crystal ball and landed in the hospital. So, her granddaughter—me—is running things for now.”

“Hmm… by the way.”

I had zero interest in the shady inner workings of a rundown shop like this, but one thing they said at the outset piqued my curiosity.

“You said earlier, ‘Two young folks in a row is rare,’ didn’t you?”

“?? Did I say that?”  

“You seriously don’t remember? You definitely said it!”

Incredulous at this scatterbrained part-timer, I was the one frantically jogging their memory.

Then, the part-timer let out an “Ah!” and clapped their hands.

“Oh, right! Yeah, a hotshot newbie just came by a minute ago.”  

“…Huh?”

“Perfect timing. You should get a reading! That kid’s something else. About a month ago, my grandma scouted her off the street—a prodigy of divination.”

The conversation veered in an unexpected direction, leaving me bewildered.

I’d assumed Nagisa Fukami had entered the shop as a customer. But… that’s not the case?

◆

“W-Wait a sec! That girl’s name is—”

“Come on, come on! First session’s free, so no worries! But we’ve got lucky prayer beads, future-seeing crystals, and other spiritually potent items for sale, so I’ll show you those later!”

“H-Hey, all I’m sensing is a scam! Don’t prey on high schoolers!”

Pushed forcefully from behind, I was practically dragged into the shop.

Thrust into a dimly lit room, I was told to wait for the part-time fortune-teller to appear.

At the room’s center stood a round table with a crystal ball, flanked by two chairs positioned for a face-to-face reading. It was the quintessential fortune-teller’s setup, straight out of a cliché.

For now, I memorized the escape route. If things went south, I was mentally prepared to bolt at full speed. So, until I could clear up the mounting suspicions, I’d play along and stay put.

I settled into one of the chairs. After a brief wait, the sound of a door creaking open came from behind.

A figure in a jet-black robe brushed past me and took the seat across the table.

As expected, their hood was pulled low, concealing their face.

Yet, I could sense our eyes locking, an unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Then, I caught a glimpse of their mouth… and a familiar mole beside their lips.

“…”  

“…”

In that moment, the fortune-teller—Nagisa—and I sized each other up like gunslingers in a desolate wasteland.

Almost simultaneously, we opened our mouths.

“W-What!? Why are you in a place like—?”

“Fortune-teller! I’ve got a problem I desperately need help with!”

I managed to get my words out a fraction faster.

Yes, I threw my plea at her, feigning complete ignorance of who she was.

Nagisa, picking up on the ruse, cleared her throat.

“Ahem… Right, I understand.”  

“…Gotcha.”

Under the table, I pumped my fist in a silent victory. That was close, but I dodged a messy complication. Better yet, this situation is ripe for exploitation—I’d be a fool to squander it.

Turning to the “hotshot newbie fortune-teller” before me, I poured on the earnestness, as if baring my soul.

“There’s a girl I want to make like me.”

“…A love reading, huh? Sigh, fine. What’s she like?”

“She’s got a reputation as a perfect cool beauty, super popular with everyone.”

“Cough!?”

Nagisa choked violently.

Then, I felt a piercing glare, laced with a mix of suspicion and irritation, boring into me.

“That love is best abandoned. The exit’s over there.”

“You haven’t even touched your fortune-telling props yet, have you?”

“W-Well, someone of my caliber can tell just by looking!”

“Oh? …Excuse me, Miss Shopkeeper!”

“Wha!?”

Ignoring Nagisa’s flustered reaction, I called out loudly toward the door several times.

Perhaps she was bored out of her mind, because the part-time shopkeeper appeared, handheld gaming device in tow.

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Does this shop finish readings just by glancing at the customer?”

“No way! You need to use the crystal or cards to get an accurate reading.”

“That’s odd. This fortune-teller claimed she could tell just by looking.”

“Eh? Hey, newbie, that’s no good! You can’t lie to customers. We’re a reputable fortune-telling shop!”

“…But…”

As Nagisa hesitated, the shopkeeper declared breezily:

“I’m responsible for running this place, so I won’t let shoddy work slide. If you don’t read properly next time, no more borrowing our props, got it?”

“Tch, that’d be a problem!”

For some reason, Nagisa visibly panicked. …So, she’d be in trouble without access to the shop’s fortune-telling tools, huh?

Filing that detail away, I resumed my act as a lovesick suitor.

“I really need the fortune-teller’s help!”

“…Tch, this guy…”

My drawn-out plea seemed to grate on her nerves, as Nagisa clenched her fists tightly.

Of course, I couldn’t care less about the reading’s outcome. Fortune-telling is just a sham of observation and rhetoric, not worth the breath of the gullible masses who buy into it. My mental fortitude sets me apart.

My real goal is to use this consultation as a pretext to extract personal information from Nagisa—details she’d never share under normal circumstances. With the shopkeeper hovering nearby, she can’t brush me off with half-hearted responses like before.

“…Sigh. Fine.”

With a resigned exhale, Nagisa pulled a deck of tarot cards from her robe.

She shuffled them on the table, arranging them into various patterns—stars, V-shapes, and more. Her movements were surprisingly practiced, but I refused to be swept up in the atmosphere.

Watching the proceedings with a skeptical eye, I posed a question to Nagisa.

“By the way, the girl I’m into keeps pushing people away relentlessly. Why do you think that is?”

“Who knows? Don’t ask me.”

She dodged the question. If she wasn’t going to answer honestly, I pointed to the shopkeeper behind her.

“I heard from the miss over there that you’re a prodigy of divination. With your remarkable spiritual insight, I’d love your advice. It’s part of the job, right, miss?”

“Yup, leave it to her!”

“Hey! Don’t just agree so easily!”

The shopkeeper, eyes glued to her gaming device, gave a thumbs-up. Nagisa, uncharacteristically flustered, whined and gritted her teeth with a “Ugh!”

Still, her hands kept shuffling the cards as she spoke reluctantly.

“…She’s probably too refined to mingle with the rabble.”

“Be honest, please.”

“Why do you assume I’m lying!?”

“It looked like you were hiding something.”

“Sigh… You’re the worst.”

Pressing a hand to her temple, Nagisa finally answered properly.

“When you’re too close, you can’t help but see people’s flaws… There’s an ideal distance between humans.”

“…I see. One more question.”

“There’s more? Let me focus on the reading…”

She shot me a resentful, half-lidded glare.

Brushing off her discontent, I adopted a grave expression.

“The truth is, I was once a flawless genius, but I’m currently plagued by a catastrophic slump. The heartless masses mock me, and I’m tormented daily by immeasurable mental anguish.”

“Then you shouldn’t be mooning over a crush.”

“I want to regain my confidence. Is there a way—some clever method—to make others see me as a ‘perfect person’?”

At my question, Nagisa’s hands paused mid-shuffle.

Here’s what puzzled me. Before she was hailed as the perfect cool beauty, Nagisa was described as inefficient and ditzy. How did she transform?

Was it mere effort, or something else? I leaned toward the latter.

After all, Nagisa’s rise to prominence began roughly a month ago. Every person I interviewed swore they’d fallen for her within the past month.

That timing aligns with the distribution of innate talents from the heavens. It’s highly likely that the talent she gained became the catalyst for her overwhelming popularity.

What’s baffling, though, is that even with an innate talent, being seen as a “perfect person” should be near impossible. Each person receives only one talent, limited to a single divine skill. You can become a genius, but not a flawless superhuman.

Every human has weaknesses, big or small. Moreover, Nagisa should be burdened with a significant drawback—the “bane” tied to her talent. Yet, she’s universally regarded as “perfect.”

What kind of innate talent could pull off such a feat?

I fixed her with a stare that brooked no evasion, awaiting her response.

“…Hm.”

“Hm?”

Her two-syllable murmur, barely a response, left me bewildered.

Then, Nagisa resumed her movements, flashing a tarot card at me—the Wheel of Fortune.

“Luck. Luck is part of strength. Recognize the arrival of fortune.”

“Huh? Haha, no way. Luck alone can’t make someone perfect.”

“I used to think that too. Fortune-telling was just a con of observation and sweet talk—only fools bought into it.”

“…And now you think differently?”

“Yes. I have a talent. Once I experienced it firsthand, I had no choice but to believe.”

Nagisa spoke confidently, but I maintained my skeptical gaze. The shopkeeper chimed in from behind.

“When my grandma scouted the newbie, this shop was already a rundown hole. But back in her day, Grandma was a renowned fortune-teller. She gave this kid her highest praise—a prodigy who surpasses even her prime, with a talent so divine it felt like the presence of a god.”

“Hmph, is that so…?”

“…Okay, I think I’ve got it.”

Looking down at the tarot spread, Nagisa spoke in a hesitant tone.

“But… this is a first. Your fate is a total mess, incredibly hard to read. I might be wrong, but I see over a hundred—maybe one hundred and eight—romantic prospects overlapping. That’s impossible, though, right?”

“…!”

My eyes widened. Whoa, she’s spot-on, that’s amazing… Wait, how?

As I reeled from the surreal moment, Nagisa grimaced.

“Also, about the love you mentioned—it’s… sigh, not a good trajectory.”

“R-Really?”  

“It might actually come to fruition.”  

“Isn’t that a good thing!?”

“…You’re the worst. So this is the omen I saw… What’s going on here…?”

“What was that?”

“…Nothing. Don’t mind me.”

Nagisa let out a long sigh. Though her face was hidden, I felt her staring at me with a mix of exasperation and scrutiny. No romantic sparks yet, but no need to rush. I’ve found a path forward.

In my mind, the pieces of the puzzle about Nagisa began to align.

It’s an odd way to frame it, but… if someone could enhance their luck or foresee ill omens, they might be able to maintain the appearance of a “perfect person.”

Yes, with a heavenly gift—the “talent for divination”—it’s possible.

“…Tch, to think I never realized I had such a talent dormant within me…!”

“What’s with you suddenly clutching your head?”

Nagisa edged her chair back as I genuinely seethed with regret.

I mean, come on! If you could actually manipulate luck or predict the future in reality, the potential applications are endless. What a waste, damn it!

Still, this was a major breakthrough. Thanks to this, I’ve devised a plan to make Nagisa fall for me.

“Sorry, I lost my cool. This was a good talk. I’ll head out now.”

“Huh? We’ve barely scratched the surface of your reading!”

“Then I’ll hear the rest another time. Maybe when we’ve grown closer.”

“…??”

I turned away from a visibly confused Nagisa. But before leaving—

“Miss Shopkeeper, I’ll buy as many of your lucky charms as I can!”

And so, I gleefully snapped up the prayer beads and crystals I’d previously dismissed as overpriced.

◆

Let’s organize the intel. I’ve glimpsed the truth behind Nagisa Fukami’s facade.

Nagisa Fukami is no perfect cool beauty. She’s an ordinary human with strengths and weaknesses. She’s just expertly concealing her flaws—with overwhelming luck.

It seems Nagisa gained the “talent for divination” through the distribution of innate talents. That gift allows her to uphold the image of a perfect cool beauty.

She likely frequents the fortune-teller’s shop to read her own fate. Her deference to the shopkeeper stems from needing the shop’s props to perform her divinations—without them, her carefully crafted facade would crumble.

With this in mind, I formulated a plan to make Nagisa fall in love.

First, I need to get close to her—not psychologically, but physically.

Nagisa constantly keeps others at a distance. She said, “When you’re too close, you can’t help but see people’s flaws,” implying a reason for her aloofness.

At the time, I nearly interpreted it as her being repulsed by others’ imperfections, but that’s not it. It’s the opposite.

Yesterday, in the cafeteria, Nagisa said:

“I’m nothing like you.”  

“You could never understand how I feel. We’re not the same.”

…Indeed, she’s right. She’s not like me. She lacks the pride of a genius.

Nagisa’s reason for pushing others away isn’t to shield her eyes from their flaws—it’s to hide her own imperfections from others. This suggests that, at her core, she’s deeply insecure, with low self-esteem. With that insight, I’ve practically grasped the thread to her heart.

The morning after the fortune-teller incident.

Right after first period, during the short break, I headed to the back of the school building.

I needed a moment when absolutely no one else would be around, so this timing was my only option. Double-checking that the coast was clear, I waited until—

“Ugh…”

Nagisa appeared, her face openly displeased.

“That’s a harsh reaction for a teenage boy. You could break someone’s heart like that.”

“…This letter is your doing, isn’t it? You tricked me.”

Nagisa held up a pale pink envelope. I shrugged.

“Who, me? By the way, did you know there’s been a nasty prank going around? Someone sends love letters under a fake name to lure people out. For an unassailable cool beauty like you, they might pose as a pure, innocent first-year girl. You’d brush off a guy, but ignoring a cute junior’s confession would tug at your conscience, wouldn’t it?”

“Pathetic. I’m leaving.”

“Wait! H-Hold on, just wait!”

Nagisa’s gaze was subzero, her expression dripping with contempt. She turned to leave, and though I tried to stop her, she didn’t slow down.

I dashed ahead, blocking her path.

“Alright, I’ll come clean! Yes, I wrote that love letter. I’m sorry.”

“You’re utterly deplorable. Don’t you feel anything for hurting people?”

“I didn’t want to hear that from you. You’ve shattered more hearts than you’ve hurt!”

I couldn’t help but retort, but trading barbs wasn’t why I called her here.

I straightened my back, hardened my expression, and declared boldly:

“Nagisa Fukami, I have something important to say!”

“What is it?”

“I’m in love with you!”

“The sky’s awfully murky and filthy today, isn’t it?”

“My once-in-a-lifetime confession lost to the weather!? Not even to a rainbow or something beautiful, but to a grimy overcast sky… Me!?”

It was a spectacular rejection. …Though, honestly, it was about what I expected.

Even I haven’t found anything to like about Nagisa yet… so I likely can’t muster the romantic resolve needed to fully activate my “talent for romance” right now.

But that’s all according to plan. My true aim is to get closer to Nagisa, step by step.

To someone as popular as Nagisa, guys are probably indistinguishable specks of dust. But I, Jun-nosuke Hatsu, need to show her I’m different.

And that’s surprisingly simple. Actions speak louder than words.

“…Alright.”  

“? You’re giving up easily.”

“I know you never accept anyone’s confessions. It’s frustrating, but I figured I’d be no exception.”

“If you knew you’d fail, why confess…?”

Nagisa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her expression skeptical.

To her, clearly puzzled by my intentions, I offered a bright smile.

“Because my feelings for you won’t ever change. Even if you’re not actually perfect.”

“…Hold on. What did you just say?”

“That my feelings for you won’t change.”

“Not that. After that.”

“Even if you’re not truly perfect—if you’re still hiding your old clumsy, inefficient self behind an intimidating facade to maintain your image.”

“…I didn’t say all that, did I?”

Nagisa’s expression didn’t waver an inch. But her complexion paled slightly.

If you looked closely, a bead of cold sweat trickled down her neck. To hide a faint tremble in her fingers, she crossed her arms under her chest. Then, she tilted her chin up defiantly.

“Don’t spout baseless nonsense. You know my reputation.”

“…The perfect cool beauty, right?”

To deny the truth so brazenly after being confronted this directly—her facade is ironclad.

Though I caught a fleeting glimpse of her unease, it was so subtle that only someone already aware of her hidden side would notice.

Nagisa’s true nature is a secret known only to a select few, not because anyone’s gone out of their way to expose or investigate it, but because she refuses to acknowledge it publicly. The real challenge might not be her innate talent, but her ironclad will and mental fortitude in guarding her facade.

No matter how impregnable she seems, my goal remains unchanged. I will make Nagisa fall in love.

Stepping forward, I addressed her emotionless expression with conviction.

“I’m not interested in the polished facade propped up by your glowing reputation. One day, I’ll see the real you with my own eyes…!”

“Hmph. Do as you like. It’s a waste of time.”

Brushing her hair aside, Nagisa walked away with serene indifference. Though it might seem like there’s no foothold to gain, my plan is only just beginning.

Burning with resolve, I returned to the classroom… only to arrive late for second period and get scolded.

◆

I, Nagisa Fukami, have a problem.

It’s not that my grades have been rock-bottom from elementary school through my second year of high school. Nor is it that I always end up in the hospital or infirmary with an injury whenever I exercise, or that my singing is so off-key it makes birds faint and fall from the sky, or that cooking fills the kitchen with a foul stench, or that my slow typing has cost me a few friends over chat or email.

Those issues were… well, not resolved, but mitigated over the past month. By harnessing luck.

No, my real problem is an infuriatingly persistent guy who won’t leave me alone.

“Fukami! Morning! What a coincidence, running into you on the way to school again!”

Jun-nosuke Hatsu.

About five days ago, he suddenly confessed to me, and since then, he’s made a point of crossing paths with me at every opportunity.

Apparently, he jogs every morning, and our school commutes just happen to overlap—or so he claims. But when it happens day after day, it’s enough to drive me up the wall.

“How is it that you always pass by the exact moment I leave my house?”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

—Lucky? It’s the worst luck for me! And how did you even find out where I live!?

I wanted to scream back, but exposing such an unsightly side goes against my principles.

I have an “ideal self.”

It’s the polar opposite of the me who fails at everything—a perfect person.

Right now, I’ve embodied that ideal. When I first met that fortune-teller grandma and she tried to hawk her shady prayer beads and crystals, I thought my luck had run dry. But that was a colossal mistake. It was the greatest stroke of fortune in my life.

Thanks to her, I realized I have a talent for divination.

At first, I didn’t believe in fortune-telling. But when that grandma, mid-sales pitch, suddenly transformed into a fervent mentor, declaring, “I can’t let a talent like this slip away!” and forced me to learn the art, it turned out for the best.

Still, I was shocked when Hatsu showed up at the fortune-teller’s shop out of nowhere… He didn’t figure me out, did he?

Hatsu seems to like me. I’m skeptical of how genuine that is, but still.

As for me, it’s not that I’m uninterested in romance, but I’m just not cut out for it.

People have always praised my looks. But since my face and figure are just gifts from my parents, I don’t feel much pride in them.

And I’ve never achieved anything through my own efforts.

People often say my personality betrays my appearance. The me who fails at everything doesn’t match the beautiful, capable image my looks project.

I felt the same way. It hurt, but it clarified my “ideal.”

—A perfect, flawless person who never disappoints or disillusion anyone.

That’s who I am now. My inner self doesn’t measure up, so I’ve built it from the outside in.

I was living a flawless, happy daily life… until Hatsu came along.

“Class 4 has a world history quiz first period today, right? You prepared?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Besides, your grades, attitude, and future are the hopeless ones.”

“Don’t write off my future like that!”

Hatsu barked in anger, but I was seething inside too.

—I mean, seriously, I’ve told you countless times to stop walking beside me like it’s normal! I’m the one who should be mad!

Yet, for some reason, as we near the school and other students come into view, he vanishes, as if dodging someone’s gaze. So, I only have to endure him for a bit…

The world history quiz is no concern. I’ve maxed out my luck, so I’ll roll a numbered pencil and mark answers based on the result—guaranteed full marks.

“You’ve got gym class this afternoon. Did you bring your uniform?”

“Are you my guardian or something? And come to think of it, why do you know Class 4’s schedule? You’re in a different class.”

“So I can help you out whenever you’re in trouble.”

—You’re the one causing me the most trouble! I’d be grateful if you’d just leave me alone!

How liberating it would be to yell that at him.

I turned away, sighing. His carefree attitude was utterly infuriating.

…I genuinely don’t understand why Hatsu claims to like me.

When he confessed, he called out my embarrassing failures face-to-face. I wanted to lash out from the sheer humiliation, but I suppressed it and played dumb.

I denied everything, but in his mind, I’m probably just a flawed girl.

He’s been offering help and worrying over me ever since. That’s not how you treat a perfect person! That’s why I can’t stand him.

He doesn’t see the ideal facade I’ve worked so hard to maintain. That’s unacceptable. Upholding this image isn’t easy—I deserve to be recognized for my efforts.

Continuing an effort that yields no results is painful.

“Even if I were in trouble, I wouldn’t need your help. I’ll manage on my own.”

“Really? You’re quite the determined go-getter, Fukami. Haha!”

I meant to make him feel the gap between us, but he brushed it off with a carefree grin.

—No, that’s not it! I want you to see my perfect facade as it is!

In my mind, I stabbed him with a sharp glare to vent my mounting frustration. The intensity must have hit home, because he clutched his stomach. Hmph, serves him right.

…Oh no. I let myself get worked up. I won’t let a guy like him rattle me.

Days later, Hatsu still hasn’t stopped seeking me out constantly.

It’s sinking in—he’s too far outside the bounds of normalcy. He’s unhinged.

I’ve had stalker-ish guys confess to me before, but his tenacity is unmatched. And it’s infuriating how he always slips away just before I’m about to explode with anger.

Yet, for some reason, there’s a faint sense that he’s different from the other guys I’ve rejected… maybe?

Whether that’s a good or bad difference, even my divinations couldn’t clarify.

I may have a talent, but it’s not all-powerful. My condition, along with countless other factors, influences the success of a reading. Readings about myself are the most accurate, but those involving Hatsu have the lowest success rate. His fate is, for some reason, maddeningly opaque. If only I could predict and avoid his ill omens.

But today’s Saturday, a day off. No school commute means no ambushes.

After lunch at home, I head to the nearby library. Studying there is my weekend routine. On weekdays, I sometimes stop by after school for the same.

It’s a place where I can focus without worrying about others’ gazes or the distractions at home.

Unrewarded effort is painful, but I don’t just strive to maintain my facade—I also want my inner self to grow. So, I put in the work behind the scenes. The results are, as always, nonexistent.

Entering the library and heading to the study area, I froze.

“What?”

Hatsu was there.

I’d never seen him at the library before. This was a first.

My brows shot up. He’s chasing me again. To come all the way here on a weekend—it’s beyond inconsiderate. My motivation’s been doused.

Unable to hide my irritation, I stormed over to him. I slammed my palm onto the desk, where his textbooks and notes were spread out.

“Gah!? F-Fukami?”

He acted like he just noticed me—how blatant. I’m not fooled.

“Enough is enough! Stalking me so shamelessly—I’ve reached my limit—”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down…! I haven’t done anything, why are you mad?”

“Why? Because you—!”

I cut off mid-sentence, realizing too late.

The study area is strictly no-talking. My outburst had echoed to every corner.

Even though it was just general patrons, not acquaintances, I drew countless stares, and embarrassment flooded me. My ears burned.

“…Come with me.”

Whispering to Hatsu, I tugged his sleeve.

Apologizing profusely to the surrounding patrons, I dragged him to the library’s break area.

“Seriously, this is just a coincidence…? Not one of your usual lies?”

Feeling like my face might burst into flames, I questioned him repeatedly.

We sat across from each other at a table in the break area.

Hatsu, sporting a disgruntled expression, glanced at me sidelong.

“Even I don’t spend every waking moment chasing you, Fukami. You’re too full of yourself.”

“Whose fault do you think that is!”

“Shout any louder, and it’ll carry outside the break area.”

“…It’s your fault. Making me humiliate myself like that—it’s not like me.”

Lowering my voice, I muttered resentfully.

Maybe he found it amusing that I quieted down obediently, because Hatsu smirked. I’m far more sensible than him, yet I’m the one humiliated…

“Still, I suppose I’m at fault for giving you the wrong idea.”

“How noble of you. If you’re truly sorry, stay away from me. Go to Brazil or something.”

“Don’t banish me to the opposite side of the planet! Geez, you’re so unapproachable…”

—You’re the one who doesn’t see my appeal, so you’re just as cold!

I glared silently at Hatsu, who was propping his cheek on his hand, seething inwardly.

But no matter how harshly I treat him, he doesn’t give up. Honestly, it’s… surprising.

I thought Hatsu was the type who couldn’t tolerate struggling, obsessed with himself, and devoid of the sincerity to genuinely care for someone else.

Yet, to be this passionate about romance… Maybe my prejudice was a bit harsh.

His relentless effort, as if his life depends on it, comes through even to me, who can’t stand him. Whatever his goal, I don’t want to dismiss someone’s hard work—but!

His goal is to… become my boyfriend.

No way, I can’t even imagine it. Liking or being liked—it’s just too hard for me…

I’m groaning inside, but I maintain my cool, composed facade and rise from my seat.

“Sigh. I’ll apologize too. Sorry for interrupting your studying. See you.”

“No worries, don’t mind me. I promise not to bother you today!”

“Thanks. It’d be great if you could keep that up for life.”

I shot back curtly. As I headed to the study area, Hatsu gave a wry smile and waved.

One moment he’s relentlessly pursuing me, the next he steps back to watch from afar. He declares his feelings head-on, then calls me unapproachable… What a baffling guy.

But his carefree disregard for others’ opinions is, in a way, a little enviable.

“…He must really love himself. Unlike me.”

I shook my head. Time to hole up in the study area and focus.

I spread out my textbooks and started studying. As usual, I barely understood anything.

After two hours, the problem set I tackled was riddled with wrong answers. I’d worked on the same set last week for review, yet I haven’t improved at all.

They say even the most talented people start out unskilled.

And that effort leads to growth. The pace of growth, suitability of methods, or quality of effort varies by individual, but effort is essential for progress.

Sometimes, I feel like I alone am severed from that universal truth. My ineptitude at everything stems from my inability to grow, no matter what.

“…Sigh.”

My focus waned, and I lifted my gaze from the textbook.

Checking the clock, only twenty minutes had passed since I started studying. Time is crawling.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, a familiar face caught my attention.

At a desk diagonally across the study area, Hatsu was diligently working.

I propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin in my palms, and found myself staring at him.

Plenty of people here are focused and working hard, yet my eyes are drawn to Hatsu… because he looks so out of place.

Coming to the library to study on a weekend? He never struck me as that serious.

Still, I think it’s admirable. I respect people who put in effort. …N-Not that I’m praising him specifically! It’s a general compliment, applicable to anyone!

“…Alright, let’s do this.”

Normally, when my focus breaks, I can’t bounce back right away. But maybe I drew some energy from a certain someone, because I managed to pick up my pen again.

Two hours later, fatigue set in.

Needing a breather, I moved to the break area and sat at an empty table—when suddenly:

“Hey! Fukami-san! Whoa, what a coincidence!”

“…!”

I raised an eyebrow, glaring in the direction of the voice. …Tch, you startled me!

The boy, his smile faltering under my piercing stare, was vaguely familiar.

“Who are you?”

“Ow, that’s harsh! Who forgets a guy who confessed to them?”

“…A classmate? Sorry, but people like you don’t stick in my memory.”

Apparently, he’s someone who confessed to me in the past. Most guys I reject spectacularly never approach me again, but every so often, there’s a persistent one like this.

And that minority tends to be the most troublesome. Hatsu’s the worst of them, though.

As expected, this guy showed no sign of leaving and even sat down with me.

“Do you come to the library a lot, Fukami-san? I can’t get my assignments done at home, so I had to come here, but doesn’t reading get exhausting? Oh, want me to grab you a drink?”

Before I could respond, he stood and headed to the vending machine in the break area.

He rambled on without waiting for my reply, steamrolling the conversation. My face froze into a blank mask, but inside, my anger boiled like magma.

…Nope. Romance is impossible. Being popular isn’t even remotely fun!

I’m only trying to embody my ideal self—I never aimed to be popular. The attention from guys is just a side effect of crafting that perfect image.

I keep signaling I’m not interested in guys, so why does this keep happening…?

Fuming, grieving, lamenting—I kept all those shifting emotions locked inside. At this point, maintaining my perfect cool beauty facade is a matter of unyielding pride.

When that guy comes back, I’ll send him packing with a sharp word.

“Here you go, Fukami-san. Black coffee, right?”

“…As if—”

I was about to shut him down—when suddenly:

An arm reached from behind the boy, snatching the coffee can.

“Not bad for a commoner. I’ll take it.”

“…Huh? W-Who the hell are you!?”

The boy’s shoulders jumped. He turned, gasped, and stumbled back.

It was Jun-nosuke Hatsu. Without hesitation, he cracked open the coffee and chugged it.

“I tried studying for the first time in my life, and once I got started, it was a breeze. My genius brain seems to have the potential to make up for my past lack of effort.”

“What are you blabbing about?”  

“Seriously, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t you start too, Fukami!”

When I echoed the boy’s confusion, Hatsu shot me an indignant look.

Then, he shifted his gaze to the boy beside me and snorted with a smirk.

“Let this genius offer some advice to an amateur like you. Persistent guys get hated!”

—Advice? That’s rich! Coming from the king of persistence!

Stunned, I watched as the boy fired back defiantly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was totally smooth!”

—Smooth? You were obnoxiously pushy!

I was speechless, floored. I’ve never felt this frustrated by having to hold my tongue.

Narrowing my eyes, I watched Hatsu point accusingly at the boy.

“Do you know what I have that you don’t?”

“A criminal record?”

“Who’s a criminal, you idiot? Wrong!”

Hatsu recomposed himself and pointed again.

“Talent. Don’t delude yourself into thinking a commoner like you could win Nagisa Fukami. Even I, a genius, have struggled. Trying to close the distance with a chance encounter? Unacceptable. Don’t offer gifts without knowing her tastes. Conversation is a two-way street—don’t ramble on, give her space to respond!”

“…!!”

Overwhelmed by Hatsu’s rapid-fire lecture, the boy stood frozen, unable to retort.

Then, covering his eyes with his arm, he let out a sniffle.

“Sorry, Fukami-san. I was lame.”

“…Um, yeah. But I think it’s admirable that you apologized honestly.”

“Thanks. Goodbye, my first love…!”

The boy left the library. He didn’t seem like a bad guy… I guess?

Struggling to process the scene, I pressed a hand to my temple. Meanwhile, Hatsu tossed the empty coffee can into the trash and pulled out his wallet.

“?”

I tilted my head. He headed to the vending machine.

Returning with a drink, he offered it to me.

It was milk cocoa. My eyes widened.

“You don’t drink black coffee, right? You’ve got a sweet tooth.”

“—!”

I gasped, stunned. H-How does he know my taste!?

I hadn’t voiced my shock, but Hatsu seemed to sense it and explained.

“During my morning run, I happened to meet your mom while she was taking out the trash. We got to talking about you, and she mentioned your preferences.”

—What kind of coincidence is that!? You totally planned it, didn’t you!?

—Filling in the moat like that? No openings, no mercy. You’re a stalker, a criminal just waiting to be caught. One call from me, and you’ll have that record!

I shot him a glare sharp as needles, ready to tear into him—when…

“By the way, you’re quite the hard worker, Fukami. Not just studying in secret daily, but striving to overcome your weaknesses since childhood—your mom said it’s inspiring.”

“…Stop. If you say another word, I’ll silence you by force.”

“Huh? No, no, I’m not teasing! I was genuinely impressed. Watching you made me rethink things—someone working hard at something is actually pretty great.”

Hatsu sat at the same table, flashing me an innocent smile.

W-Wait, what? Hatsu looks… oddly charming all of a sudden…

No, that’s not it. His appearance can’t have become refined in an instant. Could it be… my perspective on him has changed!?

I, who’ve been confessed to countless times, know exactly what this feeling is—romantic affection. To think I would ever fall in love…!

Feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment, I pressed the cold milk cocoa against them.

“…Ugh.”

The perfect cool beauty facade everyone praises felt like it could crumble if I let my guard down even slightly. …No, that won’t do. I have to maintain my “ideal self.”

Yet Hatsu keeps engaging with my inner self, not my facade.

Milk cocoa doesn’t suit my ideal image. Like that other guy, offering black coffee would align with my cool beauty persona—even I think so.

“…Oh.”

I get it now. It’s been this way all along.

It hits me belatedly. Hatsu said it from the start, during his confession:

“I’m not interested in the polished facade propped up by your glowing reputation. One day, I’ll see the real you with my own eyes…!”

The one Hatsu’s been in love with isn’t my ideal facade… it’s the real me inside.

My thoughts stalled, ticking slowly. —W-What?

“What—Why!?”

It was meant to be a silent cry, but it burst from my throat. My shout made Hatsu jump.

“Whoa!? D-Don’t scare me like that…!”

“S-Sorry!?”

After apologizing, I pressed the milk cocoa harder against my cheeks.

My face felt hotter than before. The cold can was warming up fast.

Meanwhile, Hatsu lowered the hand he’d placed over his heart. After a breath, he said:

“Hey, Fukami. Want to have a study session?”

“…Huh?”

It was an out-of-the-blue proposal.

◆

“Finally, my turn has come!”

That night, after the dramatic scene at the library.

In my room, I was riding high on the satisfaction of things going according to plan.

Let’s break it down. First, running into Fukami at the library’s study area was, of course, a staged “coincidence.”

I’d learned she occasionally visits the library through relentless… er, dedicated observation. Staking out her house from dawn, I confirmed she was headed to the library and sprinted to beat her there.

Since my usual “accidental” encounters always get seen through, I put extra effort into the disguise this time. It paid off—she genuinely believed it was a coincidence.

Then, I showed off an uncharacteristically studious side. That must have built a bridge to connect with her emotionally.

Because Nagisa Fukami’s true essence is her diligence.

I confirmed it during the library incident. When Fukami stepped away to the break area, I… well, felt a bit guilty, but I peeked at the problem sets and notes she left at her desk. The countless errors and meandering attempts were undeniable footprints of her effort.

If she were content with just a superficial image, she wouldn’t be like that. Even after gaining an innate talent and crafting a perfect cool beauty facade, Fukami still isn’t satisfied.

She has a voracious drive for improvement, tirelessly working toward her goals. It’s easy to say, but not everyone can do it. In that sense, she’s exceptional, and I find her… somewhat likable.

Also, while studying at the library to impress her, I unexpectedly solved problems with ease, boosting my academic skills. Heh, I’m probably safe from failing the next school test.

It’s a minor growth spurt, but compared to Fukami’s baseline ability, it’s enough for me to play the tutor.

…Oh, right, some random guy showed up at one point? It’s fuzzy, but that was an accident. I improvised to fold him into the plan, though I’m not sure how well it worked.

Anyway, buoyed by surging confidence, I proposed a study session to Fukami.

Originally, I planned to host it at my place, but she shot that down, saying, “Absolutely not. My sanity wouldn’t survive.” So, it’s happening at her house. What’s so sanity-threatening about my place?

Still, I was genuinely relieved she agreed to the study session—the biggest hurdle. I’d worried it’d be a tough sell, but my daily orchestrated “encounters” and efforts to understand her likely gave me a boost from my “talent for romance.” Compared to when we first started talking, her impression of me has definitely improved.

Basking in the glow of success, I sharpened my focus. Tomorrow, Sunday, I’ll make Nagisa Fukami fall.

Her ironclad facade—and the true self hidden beneath—are about to meet me face-to-face.

The next day. I was supposed to have been invited to Fukami’s room.

Rock band posters adorned the walls, and a well-maintained guitar was neatly displayed in the corner. Yet, under the bed, as if forgotten, lay a bold crop-top hoodie meant for a navel-baring outfit.

“…”

I scanned the room’s decor with a piercing gaze—then shot Fukami a sidelong, exasperated look.

She wore a loose white knit sweater and a long skirt that covered her ankles.

Suspenders attached to the skirt curved around her chest, draping over her shoulders.

The mature outfit suited her, but something felt off.

“This isn’t actually your room, is it?”

Fukami averted her gaze with a subtle shift. Hey, look at me.

I’d assumed the room’s decor would reveal something about its occupant’s personality or inner self, but it seems she took precautions. Judging by the replaced guitar strings and worn picks left on the desk, the room’s true owner plays regularly. Yet, Fukami’s fingers lack the calluses typical of a guitarist. Given these discrepancies, this likely isn’t her room.

Perhaps it belongs to a sibling or someone else… but the details don’t matter. Though my plan to glean insight from her space was thwarted, I’m not so desperate to see her real room.

Rather than provoke Fukami, who’s stubbornly playing dumb, I’ll let it slide and stick to the plan.

“Or maybe I’m imagining things. Shall we start the study session?”  

“…Phew.”

At my words, Fukami visibly relaxed, letting out a breath.

…It’s faint, almost imperceptible, but since yesterday, she seems less guarded. Her ironclad facade has developed tiny cracks, and her true self is starting to seep through—?

If that’s true, I want to find a way to shatter that facade and talk to the real her. If I can make that happen, it’ll likely seal the deal in this romantic gambit.

By the way, I have no idea what a proper study session entails.

Yesterday was my first time studying voluntarily, and I’ve always despised any group activity labeled a “session” as pointless. I’ve never seriously collaborated with anyone on anything.

It’s the inexperience of a genius who can do everything alone… but a true genius transcends even that, handling things flawlessly. I don’t know what I’m doing, but that’s no problem!

Two hours later, the study session with Fukami was in full swing.

“Math’s final problem—my calculations are flawless. The answer’s ‘negative 2’!”  

“My calculations gave me ‘2’.”  

“I respect the effort, but there’s no way your math checks out.”

“You’re awfully harsh to someone you supposedly confessed to.”  

“Let’s check the answer! …Wait, the key says ‘49’.”  

“Neither of us was even close. Where did we go wrong?”  

“No clue.”  

“Is this study session even worth it?”

Fukami shot me a cold stare, as if pinning the blame on me.

I’ll admit my academic skills aren’t advanced enough to tutor anyone. But the study session isn’t my real goal, so failing to shine here isn’t a big deal…

As I brushed it off inwardly, Fukami narrowed her eyes, giving me a withering look.

“…I overestimated you. I thought you were more capable.”

“Retract that! Sure, I said I didn’t know, but learning is child’s play for me. Don’t underestimate my genius potential—I’ll show you!”

Snatching the problem set, I scribbled furiously in my notebook. Let my pride be wounded and stay silent? Never!

As I burned with determination, Fukami stared at my profile, letting out a soft “…Hehe.”

Caught up in the moment, I ended up focusing on studying, sidelining Fukami.

Thanks to that, I finally grasped the problem we’d botched, and I explained the solution to her.

“How’s that? A perfect explanation, right? Convinced I’m a genius yet?”  

“I understand how to solve the problem.”  

“You’re glossing over the most important part—my genius!?”

All this effort for nothing. This is why I hate unrewarded work!

Collapsing sideways in a haze of futility, I caught sight of Fukami giggling softly.

Guess it’s about time her tension’s eased up. I sat up straight.

“…Kind of late to ask, but you actually let me do this, huh?”  

“Hm?”  

“The study session. As the guy who confessed to you, I think I’ve earned the right to know what changed your mind.”  

“…D-Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t let you in for that reason.”

Fukami turned her face away. A strand of hair fell from behind her ear, casting a shadow over her eyes.

To glimpse the feelings buried beneath her thick facade, I kept my gaze steady.

“How long are you going to keep up that facade?”  

“…What did you say?”  

“You’re working hard right now, desperately maintaining that image. But are you really satisfied? Don’t you ever feel frustrated, pouring effort into just preserving the status quo? No matter how much you polish your surface, the real you inside hasn’t grown one bit.”

My words must have struck a nerve, as planned. Fukami’s brows slowly furrowed, her gaze sharpening.

“What could you possibly know about me?”  

“I’m saying what I can, even if I don’t fully get it. You’re the only one who can confirm if I’m right. Lately, I’ve been trying unfamiliar things, and I’ve learned it feels lousy to leave questions unanswered.”  

“…Let me ask something first.”

Frowning with displeasure, she straightened her posture.

Though a faint flush seemed to color her cheeks, her tone was laced with thorns.

“Why did you fall for ‘me’?”

The blunt question caught me off guard, making me blink. But I answered with earnest conviction.

“Because your inner self is captivating.”  

“…Are you serious?”  

“Absolutely. Sure, a beautiful, perfect girl like your facade is appealing too. I’ll admit, that’s what first drew me in. But that’s not it—I realized your true charm lies elsewhere, seeing you up close. You’re a hard worker who never shies away from effort to overcome your weaknesses. That sincerity is something even I can’t emulate. I respect it. That’s why I like you.”  

“…~~~!”

Fukami’s eyes wavered.

My goal is still her innate talent, but calling her worthy of respect is the truth. Doing only what you know you can, versus tackling what you’re unsure of—I’m the former, but Fukami’s the latter.

My ambition to reclaim a glorious future by winning over 108 girls isn’t impossible, which is why I’m confident and give it my all.

But Fukami keeps striving, even without confidence, even when her efforts go unrewarded. Despite her annoyance at my constant pursuit, I’m half-astounded, half-impressed by her persistence. That’s undeniably a human virtue she possesses, and I’ll stand by that.

I don’t know how she took my heartfelt words, but…

“…Tch.”

Biting her lower lip lightly, she glared at me.

Her expression—her perfectly cool facade—was starting to crack.

“I shouldn’t have asked. If I don’t open up after you’ve said all that… it’d make me the coward.”

Clutching her shoulders, she muttered as if voicing a complaint.

◆

I resolved to put in twice the effort of anyone else—but that effort has never been recognized by anyone.

No matter how hard I try, my efforts never bear fruit. Those around me, watching me struggle desperately, have mocked me as a clumsy, inept failure.

“Nagisa Fukami is hopeless”—I’ve been given up on by others time and time again.

But I… I alone didn’t want to give up on myself. I didn’t want to stop trying. And unlike everyone else, I don’t think I’m hopeless.

Because no matter what happens, I refuse to give up on striving. Persevering in my efforts, even if I can’t grow despite all my hard work—that’s what I’ve come to see as Nagisa Fukami’s reason for being.

Even if it’s impossible now, I believed that one day, I’d surely grow. I envisioned my ideal self.

I wanted to become a perfect, cool girl who could do anything.

The thought of breaking free from the clumsy, incapable me gave me the strength to keep pushing forward, no matter how much effort it took.

I believed in my potential and worked tirelessly with optimism—but… maybe that wasn’t the truth.

Perhaps all along, I was just being stubborn and prideful. Unable to bear the scorn of others, unable to forgive myself for not improving even a little, I clung to the idea of being an “hard worker” as my worth.

Even so… in the end, I gave up on my own potential for growth. Instead of tackling the challenges and flaws within me, I jumped at quick, superficial solutions that showed immediate results.

I molded myself into the shape of my ideal, desperately maintaining that hollow facade. Somewhere deep inside, I convinced myself that this was enough to embody my ideal, and I was ready to give up on growing any further.

It’s as if I’d denied all the effort I’d put in until now.

It’s all Hatsu Jun-nosuke’s fault… Because he kept insisting, I finally realized…

Relying on luck won’t let me embody my ideal. What I wanted to change through my efforts wasn’t just superficial praise or value—it was the core of who I am.

◆

The somber atmosphere that had been lingering in Nagisa Fukami seemed to let out a sigh after a moment.

“I take back what I said before, about you not understanding my feelings, Hatsu Jun-nosuke…”

“—”

“You’re far more understanding than I thought. You know I’m not just the facade I show the world, and no matter how much I lash out with harsh words, you stay by my side… In fact, it was the other way around. I’m sorry… I was the one who didn’t understand your feelings.”

“Genius is a solitary thing. As long as my affection reaches you, that’s enough for me.”

“…That’s troubling.”

My carefully crafted, all-out attempt at charm was rejected. I maintained a calm exterior, but my knees felt like they might give way. I bit the inside of my cheek to endure it. A bit of blood leaked from the corner of my mouth…

As I wiped it with the back of my hand, Nagisa Fukami’s voice trembled as she wove her words.

“I hate myself. I have no strengths to boast about, nothing to be proud of. I’m the only one who hasn’t taken a single step forward from the starting line of growth. I tried to mold myself into my ideal image, but in reality, I’m just incompetent… It’s frustrating and pathetic, and I can’t stand it.”

Hearing this, I mulled over my thoughts, pondering deeply.

I had vaguely suspected it, but Nagisa Fukami’s clumsiness was profound and deeply rooted. The awkwardness I’d witnessed was merely the tip of the iceberg.

When I spoke with Nagisa Fukami’s mother before, I learned that she has a sweet tooth. She also mentioned that, since childhood, Nagisa Fukami was terrible at studying, sports, singing, cooking—pretty much everything.

…It’s an odd story. The rule is that everyone has one innate talent, one field they can master. The “drawback” of not possessing such a talent typically manifests as a crippling weakness in one specific area. If we assume that’s the universal law with no exceptions, then perhaps I should have looked at it from a broader perspective.

In other words, while the number of talents is limited to one, the scope of the field it affects can vary in breadth.

If that’s the case, I could make an educated guess about the innate talent Nagisa Fukami was supposed to have.

“Nagisa Fukami. Your aspirations are extraordinary. The fact that results haven’t followed yet is only temporary.”

“? What do you mean…?”

“You’ll eventually be rewarded for your efforts and become the perfect person you envision. That’s what I mean.”

I shrugged. Nagisa Fukami tilted her brows in a puzzled, furrowed expression.

I thought to myself: Nagisa Fukami’s true talent… could it be the “talent for effort”?

The drawback of not yet possessing this talent is her current clumsiness and lack of perseverance, which hinders her growth and keeps her abilities stagnant. But if my guess is correct… once Nagisa Fukami reclaims her “talent for effort,” she might mature into someone truly flawless through sheer hard work. It’s an extraordinary talent when you think about it.

I once possessed that talent myself, but because I was a genius with 108 talents and never needed to strive, I never fully realized its potential.

Surely, Nagisa Fukami would wield it with unmatched dedication, mastering her innate gift.

A wry smile crossed my face. I suppressed it and asked Nagisa Fukami, “Why won’t you accept my affection?”

“It’s… because when you’re near me, Hatsu Jun-nosuke—”

She hesitated, as if reluctant to admit it aloud, pausing for a beat.

“My ideals waver. My heart feels unsteady, and I can’t keep my true self hidden…”

The facade Nagisa Fukami had built was the embodiment of her ideal self.

She simply wanted to become the person she admired. That wish, however imperfectly, had been fulfilled. But in her effort to protect that image, her thinking seemed to have grown rigid.

A perfect, cool beauty… That’s admirable, but something vital was missing.

“I think you can aim for an even greater ideal, Nagisa Fukami.”

“Eh…?”

“The you who works tirelessly, even if it’s messy, is just as beautiful as your facade. They say a gem with a flaw is still a gem, but people stumble and fall in life. If the scars you bear come from striving to overcome what you can’t yet do, aren’t they something to be proud of? There’s no need to hide them—those failures are proof of your effort.”

Nagisa Fukami blinked rapidly, her delicate shoulders trembling as I placed my hands on them and met her gaze.

“I understand the frustration of feeling inadequate all too well now. But even if I fall to being less than ordinary, I won’t hate myself. What do you think about that, Nagisa Fukami?”

“…”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She gently touched my chest, her slender fingers brushing softly.

“That’s… wonderful. I want to love myself too… I want to make the effort to love myself.”

“…Yeah. You really are amazing.”

I offered sincere praise. She was a bundle of ambition, striving to overcome her shortcomings and reach her ideals.

I wove my feelings into words, hoping to inspire this noble girl to keep trying without fear of being hurt.

“I want to be there to witness your efforts.”

“…Huh?”

“If you ever lose sight of your own worth, I’ll remind you as many times as it takes. Your efforts are never in vain—they will bear fruit.”

There was a certainty in my tone, and Nagisa Fukami looked at me with a bewildered expression.

To her, I decided to confess my feelings once more, despite being brushed off before.

“Nagisa Fukami. I… I love the way you keep trying, even if it’s clumsy—”

I tried to say it smoothly, in my usual cool and confident way, but for some reason, the words caught in my throat.

My pulse quickened, my palms grew sweaty. …Was I, of all people, nervous?

When I confessed to Chiharu Okusora before, I hadn’t been shaken at all.

Maybe… I was more moved by Nagisa Fukami’s relentless effort than I realized. Seeing her earnestness, something I lacked, had affected me.

But I could say it. Just two syllables, a single word.

“I… love you.”

I managed to get it out, my voice stiff, my heart pounding like a drum, my blood running hot.

Nagisa Fukami, standing before me, seemed to catch my nervous energy as if it were contagious.

“~~~!”

She clutched her chest, swaying slightly. Yet her gaze never left mine, and in that moment, it felt as if our hearts were connected.

Her eyes grew wetter, a single tear trailing down her cheek from one corner. Surprised, she wiped it with her fingertip, staring at the droplet before letting out a faint smile.

“…That’s the most hesitant confession I’ve ever heard.”

Her voice was warm, almost feverish, and I found myself at a loss for words.

Despite my racing heart, I could feel the weight of my confession landing. In the quiet room, where we gazed at each other in a shared stillness, the sound of a heartbeat—whose, I couldn’t tell—reached my ears.

Then, snapping back to reality, I felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment and looked away.

“…You’re a tough one. I almost feel sorry for the guys you’ve shot down.”

“You were one of them, Hatsu Jun-nosuke.”

“Yeah, but like I said during my first confession, I finally got to see the real you.”

“…That’s true.”

With a refreshingly clear smile, Nagisa Fukami laughed brightly.

“If you’re by my side, Hatsu Jun-nosuke… I feel like I can really try this time.”

She reached out, gently running her fingers through my hair as if combing it.

“I… love you too, Hatsu Jun-nosuke. If you love the me who tries so hard, then stay close and keep watching.”

Her words carried a hint of superiority, but her tone was soft, her touch gentle.

Beneath her dignified coolness, a certain warmth seeped into my heart.

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