Chapter One: For a Former Chuunibyou, Reminiscing Is Practically a Lethal Weapon
The chime’s sound jolted me awake.
“Fwaa…”
Yawning, I propped myself up, just in time to see the homeroom teacher and my classmates filing out of the classroom, signaling the end of HR.
“…Crap. I overslept.”
Succumbing to the warm May weather, I’d meant to take a quick nap after sixth period, but it seemed I’d slept straight through until the end of homeroom.
Thanks to that, I had a strangely nostalgic dream.
“Yo! You were sleeping like a baby, Reo-kun.”
As I pieced together the situation, a girl approached, giggling. Her fluffy blonde hair reached her shoulders, and her jade-green eyes sparkled. Petite and radiating a small-animal-like charm, she gazed at my groggy face with amusement.
Her name was Tsumugi Miyahara, my classmate and one of my few friends.
“Instead of staring, you could’ve woken me up,” I grumbled.
Tsumugi shrugged, feigning innocence.
“Nah, you looked way too comfy. Must’ve been a pretty good dream, huh?”
Her teasing words made me pause.
Well, it was a good dream, in a way.
Those strange, vibrant days I spent with that eccentric girl, “The Nightmare of Calamity.”
Why I’d dream of her now, of all times, I had no idea.
“Whoa, bullseye? Don’t tell me it was a date with a girl? Maybe even a celebrity?”
“Ugh…”
Her guess wasn’t spot-on but close enough to startle me. Seeing my reaction, Tsumugi shot me a mischievous glance.
“Wanna bet I can guess who it was? ‘The Nightmare of Calamity,’ right?”
What is she, a psychic?
Stunned, I stared as Tsumugi nodded smugly.
“Yup, nailed it!”
“…How’d you know?”
Her uncanny accuracy left me more than surprised—it was almost unsettling. Tsumugi pointed at something.
“Well, duh. This.”
Following her finger, I saw my smartphone.
On the screen was an article about “The Nightmare of Calamity.”
I’d been reading a news site that mentioned Mea for the first time in a while, and I must’ve gotten sucked in. Apparently, I fell asleep reading it, which explains the weird dream.
“…So, not a psychic. A detective.”
“Fufufu, elementary, my dear Watson! By the way, you’re a Mea-chan fan too, huh? I was a huge fan myself!”
Tsumugi’s eyes sparkled, as if she’d found a kindred spirit.
“…Yeah, I followed her stuff a lot,” I admitted.
My friend, “The Nightmare of Calamity,” caught the eye of a talent agency through her SNS activity and debuted as an idol. Her larger-than-life persona was apparently perfect for showbiz, and she nearly reached the top as a “chuunibyou idol.”
“Figured! But her sudden retirement was such a shock, right? It’s been, what, half a year?”
Yeah. Mea quit being an idol just as she was on the verge of stardom. It was abrupt, but it felt very her. I remember being surprised but not entirely shocked.
“Something like that. Such a waste when she was doing so well… yawn.”
Still groggy, I stifled another yawn. Tsumugi gave a wry smile.
“You’re so laid-back. Sleeping through HR like that? The whole class was staring.”
“What, was my sleeping face that entertaining? Anyone snap a pic?”
“That’s some next-level shamelessness! You’re not even an attention-seeker, yet you’re totally fine with being stared at.”
“Well, yeah. It’s not like it costs me anything. If I cared about every look, I’d never survive.”
As I replied, the classroom door slid open.
“Oh, sorry for making you wait, Tsumugi. I finished submitting the daily report.”
A girl with glossy long black hair and pale skin entered, flashing Tsumugi a cheerful smile. Her features were refined, but she gave off a slightly plain, unpolished vibe.
If I remembered right… Nagi Nanaya, was it?
We barely interacted, but her unique name stuck in my head.
“Ugh, you don’t have to cover for the class rep and the absent duty roster just because you’re the committee chair,” Tsumugi said, sounding exasperated but friendly.
“Oh… um, Kurusu-kun’s here too,” Nagi said, noticing me. Her expression turned awkward.
“…Yo,” I replied, feeling the odd tension in her demeanor and instinctively bracing myself.
It was our first real face-to-face interaction, so I wasn’t sure how to gauge the distance between us. But her stiff expression and wandering gaze gave off a faint sense of rejection.
“Whoops, sorry. Nagi-chan’s super shy around new people,” Tsumugi interjected, sensing the awkward air.
Yeah, she did have that shy vibe. I vaguely recalled she only became class committee chair because she couldn’t say no when others pushed the role on her.
“My bad, then,” I said, taking a step back.
“No, it’s…” Nagi mumbled, shrinking apologetically.
As the mood grew heavy, Tsumugi clapped her hands, as if struck by an idea.
“Hey, Reo-kun, you’re totally chill in front of people, right? Got any tips for not getting nervous under scrutiny?”
“Tips, huh…” I thought for a moment before speaking. “Alright, here’s a classic one. You know that trick where you imagine everyone as potatoes to calm stage fright?”
“Yeah, like a mental trick to ease nerves on stage, right?”
“But if everyone’s a potato and you’re the only human, doesn’t that make you feel kinda alienated?”
“What are we even talking about!?”
“Picture a world where humanity’s gone, and potatoes roam the earth. You’re the last human left. In that kind of world, you’re too busy surviving to worry about nerves. So, the trick is to think of everyone as potatoes.”
“That’s way too out there to be useful! Why’d it turn into some post-apocalyptic sci-fi scenario!? I’m an idiot for asking!”
I’d answered in earnest, but Tsumugi’s reaction was harsh.
“Uh… I-I’ll try to imagine that…” Nagi nodded stiffly, lacking the nerve to roast me like Tsumugi did.
“No, Nagi-chan, you don’t have to! Just erase that whole exchange from your brain!” Tsumugi hurriedly stopped her friend from diving into my sci-fi fantasy.
“Jeez, I’m swamped with work as it is, and now you almost gave me more to deal with,” Tsumugi sighed deeply.
“Work?” I asked, catching on. “Wait, you stayed behind just for that?”
“Yup. Nagi-chan’s uniform doesn’t quite fit, so I’m helping resize it. I’m in the sewing club, remember?”
Looking at Nagi, her uniform did seem a bit oversized. But it’s only June of our first year. Did she buy it big expecting to grow, only to give up on that already?
Noticing my confusion, Tsumugi added, “Nagi-chan’s running for student council president. We’re tweaking her uniform to look sharp for her campaign poster photos.”
“Student council president… First-years can run, huh? But running for election when you’re shy?”
“I-I want to change my shy self,” Nagi said, refuting my assumption that she’d been roped into it.
“That’s bold,” I said, sensing a slight evasiveness but letting it slide since we weren’t close.
“Anyway, Nagi-chan and I are super busy. If you’ve got enough free time to nap, maybe help with the campaign—”
“Nope, just remembered something urgent. I’m heading home.”
Sensing trouble coming my way, I grabbed my bag and stood.
“Ugh, he got away,” Tsumugi muttered, clearly annoyed, as I left the classroom.
Looking back, that moment was probably a turning point in my fate.
“…That said, I’m just bored out of my mind.”
Muttering to myself, I gazed out a window in the empty hallway.
Was it the aftermath of the wild times with Mea, or am I just useless on my own? Since starting high school, I’d been drowning in boredom.
“Trouble’s a hassle, but boredom’s no picnic either… Wait, what’s that?”
Glancing outside, I saw a grove of trees beyond the school field. But what caught my eye was deeper in—a dilapidated old school building.
“…Right, they mentioned an old schoolhouse. Might as well check it out.”
Bored out of my skull, I impulsively headed for the exit.
Crossing the field and stepping through soft leaf litter, I cut through the grove. The old schoolhouse wasn’t a place students typically visited, so this was my first time. Luckily, a slightly better-than-animal-trail path led me straight to it.
“Kinda reminds me of the old days.”
Back then, I’d scouted all sorts of places with Mea, hunting for photoshoot locations.
Lost in those memories, I entered the old schoolhouse. Creaking floorboards and the scent of aged wood greeted me.
It was rundown but surprisingly maintained, likely because some clubs used it as storage or clubrooms.
“Hmm… This could work.”
The retro vibe would make a killer backdrop for photos. What kind of outfit would suit Mea here—
“…Ugh, what am I thinking?”
Caught up in nostalgia, my thoughts had slipped back to those days. With a wry smile, I continued down the hall.
Then, I spotted a classroom.
What’s it like inside?
Curiosity piqued, I opened the door to peek in.
In that instant, my eyes locked onto the class committee chair in her underwear.
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“Eh…”
Nagi’s stunned voice and my own speechlessness filled the frozen moment. The sight before me burned into my retinas.
Her slender, pale figure.
The pale blue bra encasing her chest wasn’t particularly large, but its subtle curves harmonized perfectly with her delicate frame, exuding an understated allure.
In that moment, I noticed the sewing tools scattered around the room, signaling that this was the sewing club’s room. It clicked: Tsumugi had been resizing Nagi’s uniform, and I’d walked in right as Nagi was changing.
“W-What…!?”
While I stood frozen, piecing it together, Nagi seemed to reboot. Clutching her clothes to cover herself, she backed away slowly.
But she wasn’t aware enough of her surroundings yet, and she bumped into a locker behind her with a loud clang.
That was a mistake. The impact caused a rattle from the top of the locker.
Looking up, I saw a cardboard box teetering, about to fall right onto Nagi’s head.
“Watch out!”
Finally snapping out of my daze, I reached out instinctively, but I was too late.
“Eh—kya!?”
With a light thud, the box hit Nagi’s head.
“You okay!?”
I rushed over, worried. The sound was light, but still.
“What’s this… wigs?”
Examining the fallen box, I saw it was filled with colorful wigs, likely sewing club props. Relieved she wasn’t hurt, I relaxed.
Meanwhile, Nagi, buried under the pile of wigs, stirred and popped out.
“Committee chair, you alright—huh?”
Her appearance made me freeze again.
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On Nagi’s head, perfectly perched, was a wig. A silver wig that looked oddly familiar. With it on, Nagi looked—undeniably—like “The Nightmare of Calamity” herself.
“Huh… no, wait, Mea?”
My call seemed to snap her back to reality. She touched her head, realizing she was wearing the wig. As she registered its color, her face paled rapidly.
“Ugh, this is the worst…!”
Nagi muttered something under her breath, but I didn’t catch it.
All I felt was the shock of reuniting with an old friend out of nowhere.
“No way! Seriously? It’s really you, right? Not some lookalike! Do you remember me!?”
“Of course. I remember you well,” she replied.
“Haha, it’s actually you! We ended up at the same high school! Why the hell didn’t you say anything!?”
I was buzzing with excitement and joy, but Nagi—no, Mea—didn’t respond. She just trembled, as if holding something back.
“…I’ve got a lot to say, but let’s start with one thing.”
“What’s that?”
Tilting my head, I watched as Mea, still in her underwear, turned beet red and shouted.
“Just get out already!”
And so, I was promptly kicked out of the sewing club room.
Our saving grace was that Tsumugi had stepped out to the bathroom, keeping the chaos to a minimum. After dispersing, we agreed to meet up outside school later to talk things over calmly.
The meeting spot was a cozy, tucked-away café in a back alley.
Its slightly pricey menu kept it off the radar for most students, making it the perfect place for private conversations without running into schoolmates.
Seated at a table, I took a moment to study the committee chair across from me.
Her translucent, pale skin and refined features, now slightly more mature than I remembered, were unmistakably those of “The Nightmare of Calamity.”
“Just to double-check one more time… you’re Mea, right?”
“…Yes.”
Mea, now Nagi, answered with a drooping head, as if under interrogation.
“So, your real name’s Nagi Nanaya, huh?”
“…Yeah.”
Learning the real name of a friend I’d known for years felt oddly surreal. But I still had plenty of questions.
“Hey, Mea, what’s with the disguise? Black hair, no heterochromatic eyes, no trace of your ‘dark kin’ vibe. You look practically human.”
Wondering if she’d updated her chuunibyou persona, I asked. For some reason, Mea clutched her head in agony.
“Nooo! Stop! Please, no more! I’ll die! My heart’s gonna explode!”
“What’s that… don’t tell me you’ve been cursed!?” I said, feigning seriousness. “Didn’t you mention some rival faction vying for control of the dark world? Is this their doing!?”
At my grave tone, Mea slumped onto the table, trembling.
“Stop… I’m begging you…”
Her reaction made me tilt my head.
“C’mon, what’s wrong? I’m your ally, bound by our sacred oath. You can tell me anything.”
“You’re teasing me on purpose!”
Mea sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, glaring at me with teary eyes.
I’d had my suspicions from the start, but her reaction confirmed it.
“So… your chuunibyou’s completely cured, huh?”
“…Yes.”
Mea nodded weakly at my guess.
Back when she called me her meiyuu (ally), she was in her second year of middle school—the age said to produce the most Dark History (dark history) in a person’s life. Nagi Nanaya was no exception, having created the colossal dark history of “The Nightmare of Calamity” and now suffering the consequences as her matured self cringed at her past.
“I figured this day would come, but you’ve finally grown up. Congratulations on graduating from the land of children.”
“Shut up!”
As I clapped mockingly, she swatted my hands away.
“C’mon, let me have this. You’ve been dodging me for two months since school started. Consider it payback for an old friend’s loneliness.”
If it weren’t for that accidental encounter, she might’ve ignored me until graduation. In hindsight, skipping out on helping Tsumugi to go for a walk was the right call.
“…Hmph. You didn’t even recognize me. I noticed you right away,” Mea shot back, her eyes narrowing with a hint of resentment.
“No way I’d recognize you! No silver hair, no heterochromatic eyes, no military dress, no wagahai first-person, and you didn’t call me Ally!”
“Aaagh! It’s like grating the softest part of my soul… and rubbing Tabasco into it!”
Oops. I was just explaining myself, but I stepped on another landmine. Watching her writhe, covering her face, I felt a twinge of guilt.
“Sorry, my bad. Cheer up, Mea.”
“Please stop calling me that, too.”
So many landmines.
“Alright, Committee Chair.”
Reverting to her title, Nagi still looked slightly dissatisfied.
“…You can call me Nagi.”
“Got it. Then you can call me Ally like old times.”
“No way!”
Clearing her throat with a kohon after her outburst, Nagi—no longer just the committee chair—continued.
“Anyway, I’m not the same as I was. I don’t want to stand out like that anymore. My goal is to live a quiet, low-key high school life.”
She declared this with a serious expression.
To think “The Nightmare of Calamity” could change so much… But then a new question hit me.
“Quiet and low-key… If that’s your goal, why are you running for student council president? Doesn’t that just increase the risk of your past being exposed? It’s not really just to overcome your shyness, is it?”
Her appearance was different enough that I didn’t notice, but her facial features were almost identical to before. Someone sharp might figure it out.
“There’s a deeper reason…” Nagi’s expression darkened.
“You know I was an idol with that chuunibyou persona, right? Well, it wasn’t even a persona—it was just me. But that’s why, when my chuunibyou wore off, the damage was massive.”
“I see. That’s why you quit being an idol.”
“The Nightmare of Calamity” was a 100% pure chuunibyou creation. Its authenticity—not some fabricated act—was what made her shine and draw people in. But once the chuunibyou faded, there was no going back. It wasn’t something she could recreate with skill or acting.
“Exactly. I said I wanted to focus on academics, but really, I just couldn’t keep up the chuunibyou act anymore. Problem is, the entertainment industry doesn’t let me just walk away.”
Nagi let out a heavy sigh.
An idol contract naturally comes with binding terms. “The Nightmare of Calamity” was on the verge of stardom. No agency would let her go just because she couldn’t play the part anymore.
But that didn’t quite add up with her current situation.
“Yet you managed to retire, at least officially. Did you pay a penalty fee?”
She must’ve earned decent money, so maybe she bought her way out.
Nagi shook her head.
“Nope. That would’ve been ideal, but… my career was short, and my pay wasn’t great. Plus, I blew a lot of it on chuunibyou stuff—clothes, accessories, decor…”
She mumbled the last part awkwardly.
Having followed her idol days, I knew exactly what she meant.
“Oh, right. You said you ‘summoned a chamber of your dark world castle into the mortal realm’ and decked out your room with crazy gothic stuff.”
Wine-red carpets, a throne-like chair, frilly curtains, a chessboard she didn’t even know how to use—that chuunibyou room had an unforgettable aura.
“Ughhh… Why did I waste so much money…? I didn’t even need that canopy king-size bed…!”
Nagi squirmed, tormented by her Dark History and financial regrets.
“Alright, stop letting your past self financially abuse you. If you didn’t have the money, how’d you pull off retiring?”
Her expression turned serious as she got back on track.
“The condition was that I become student council president at this school.”
“Huh?”
The unexpected answer left me dumbfounded. Nagi continued, unfazed.
“Suihou High has a long history, right? It’s not as prestigious now, but back in the day, it was considered a top-tier school.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
These days, it’s just a “decent private school,” but until the mid-Heisei era, it was a prestigious institution for elite families.
“Exactly. The student council used to carry real clout. During its golden age, it produced tons of big names in politics and business.”
“Got it… but what’s the agency get out of sticking a former chuunibyou idol among those heavyweights?”
Sure, picturing a chuunibyou idol mingling with power brokers is hilarious, but that alone wouldn’t justify letting her go.
“Former student council presidents here have strong alumni networks. They’re seen as high-potential, so OBs scout them early for their organizations or build long-term alliances.”
“They’d go that far for a high schooler?”
It felt excessive, like recruiting an athlete.
“It’s because they’re high schoolers. After university or entering the workforce, people join different factions, making them harder to fully win over. By supporting them early—sometimes even sponsoring their education—alumni groom them into loyal allies.”
That made sense. It was strategic.
With that, I understood what her agency was after.
“So, they told you to become student council president, build those connections, and act as their pipeline to the big shots, and they’d let you retire.”
“Exactly.”
Nagi nodded, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Still… aiming for president as a first-year? That’s bold.”
First-years barely know the school’s issues or have networks. Rushing to quit the agency seemed reckless.
“…I had no choice. They said if I dragged it out until my contract ended, they’d extend it. I had to produce results as a first-year, or they’d revoke my retirement.”
Nagi sighed deeply, looking exhausted.
From the agency’s perspective, it was a logical move.
“How’s it going? Any chance of winning?”
Her eyes lost all light as I cut to the chase.
“Absolutely zero confidence! I started with no prep or research! My rivals are tough, and I’m a total amateur!”
A triple whammy of misfortune.
“That’s rough… As your friend, I’ll support you however I can.”
Her face lit up instantly.
“Really!?”
I nodded with a warm smile.
“Yep. I swear to cheer on the revival of the chuunibyou idol ‘The Nightmare of Calamity’ forever.”
“You’re assuming I’ll lose!? I need you to support my campaign to prevent that!”
Nagi gripped my hand as if she wouldn’t let me escape.
But all I could do was grimace.
“Look, I’m just as much of an amateur as you are. Two nobodies teaming up won’t make us stand out.”
“That’s not true! Come on, Kurusu-kun, when it comes to producing me, you’re better than anyone!”
“—”
Her earnest words left me momentarily speechless.
Sure, if it’s about producing Nagi—The Nightmare of Calamity—I’d back myself against anyone. I’d made her posts go viral countless times, secured corporate deals, laid the groundwork for her rise as an influencer, and even set the stage for her idol career. That was my quiet pride, something I never boasted about.
“…When you put it like that, how can I say no?”
Swayed by her perfect pitch, I gave a wry smile and agreed to help.
Might as well. I’ve got something I want to do, too.
“You mean it this time, right!? No backing out later!” Nagi’s face lit up as she leaned in eagerly.
“Leave it to me. Like you said, when it comes to producing you with love, no one does it better.”
“Uh, love’s a bit much, okay? Just responsibility is fine!”
“Got it. If we fail, we’ll go for a shotgun wedding in two years and retire together.”
“I don’t need that much responsibility! I’d rather stay an idol than deal with that!”
Sadly for her, the odds of failing are next to none.
After all, Nagi was once an idol who nearly took the world by storm, and I was the guy who sparked that journey. With us together, winning a student council election should be a breeze.
I want to punch the past me who thought that so lightly.
That regret hit the very next day.
“Uh, um… I’m… running for… student council president… I’m… Nanaya…”
We’d finished shooting campaign photos that morning and turned them into flyers by after school. The plan was for Nagi to hand them out at the school gate to get her face known, but the results were disastrous.
Her eyes darted nervously, her legs trembled, and her voice was so faint it barely left her throat.
I’d forgotten, caught up in her lively energy after her identity reveal yesterday, but Nagi was now a shy, socially awkward introvert.
“Um…”
She sent me a teary, pleading look from a distance as I watched.
“…Time out. Come here.”
Unable to stand it any longer, I beckoned her over.
“phew… saved…”
Nagi, shielded from prying eyes, visibly relaxed. Gone was any trace of the The Nightmare of Calamity who once acted like the world revolved around her.
“Nagi… I knew you were shy, but this bad? How does a girl who performed at Budokan end up like this?”
I’d clung to her Mea-era image, assuming she’d pull through with some bravado when push came to shove. Clearly, I’d underestimated how deep her issues ran.
“Ugh… It’s like a backlash. The more I dwell on exposing my Dark History to the world, the worse I got at handling attention, and now I’m like this.”
Nagi averted her gaze awkwardly, flinching every time someone looked her way.
“This is impossible, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t help but stare into the distance. A stage-frightened student council president? Never heard of one.
“Kurusu-kun…”
Nagi’s desperate eyes pleaded with me.
Sure, it’s a tough challenge, but abandoning an old friend would leave a bad taste. As long as we’re not checkmated, we keep playing.
“We’ll deal with the stage fright later. For now, let’s stick to what we can do.”
I pulled a stack of posters from a paper bag.
“Let’s put up posters. Shy or not, you can handle that, right?”
I handed half the stack to Nagi, who took them with a tense nod.
“Y-Yeah. I’ll do better this time.”
We headed back into the school, aiming for the hallway bulletin boards.
“Alright, let’s start from the first floor and cover every spot. If a class doesn’t have a candidate, we might even get to post in their classrooms. Time to negotiate.”
“Got it.”
Nagi nodded firmly.
We began plastering posters across the school.
But less than five minutes in, trouble struck.
“Ugh…! I-I can’t do this anymore!”
Nagi dropped her stack of posters, panting as if she’d just run a marathon.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You sick or something?”
Worried she might have a fever, I asked, but Nagi, pale-faced, muttered,
“…It’s coming back.”
“Huh?”
Confused, I watched as she spoke again, her voice strained.
“I’m remembering… when The Nightmare of Calamity posters were plastered all over town for concert promos! I even secretly signed some to make fans hunt for them or loitered nearby to get noticed…!”
“You did that?”
I was a bit stunned as Nagi confessed a Dark History I hadn’t known, clutching her head.
“That flashy parasol to draw attention…! Wearing PV costumes in public just to show off…! How could I do that without shame…!?”
Nagi writhed, struck by another bullet from her past.
“Hey, snap out of it.”
I lightly tapped her cheeks, bringing her back to reality. Her face was still pale.
“Kurusu-kun… I’m sorry, but if we keep putting up posters, I might just stop coming to school.”
Her breathless surrender made me clutch my head.
“So that’s a no-go too.”
Disappointed to lose another strategy, I racked my brain for the next move.
“How about we set up an SNS account to promote your policies online?”
That wouldn’t require much photo exposure, so it should be safe.
Or so I thought. Nagi’s face contorted worse than ever.
“SNS for policies… sounds good, yeah. It worked during my idol days. When I posted about the laws of my dark world or my decrees as queen, my fans—no, my subjects—studied them diligently… Oh god, why did I do such cringey things!?”
“Wow, you’re something else! Every step’s a landmine!”
A new breed of landmine girl, detonating Dark History wherever she treads. Who knew recovering from pure chuunibyou could leave such scars?
At this rate, dodging landmines while campaigning was impossible.
That left one option.
“No choice… I didn’t want to resort to this, but Nagi, we’re leaving school. Time for secret training.”
“Secret training?”
Nagi tilted her head at my words.
We headed to the station and rode the train for about thirty minutes. Leaving school early got us to our destination just before sunset.
“Hey, Kurusu-kun, why are we here?”
Nagi, unaware of the training’s details, asked with confusion as we exited the station.
“It could’ve been anywhere, but being far from school makes things easier.”
I scanned the surroundings. The station plaza had food stalls, benches, students heading home, and busy salarymen passing by.
Good. It wasn’t dark yet, so faces were clearly visible. Perfect conditions.
“Alright, Nagi. Training starts now.”
Her unease grew as I spoke.
“What’s the training? Like, what are we even doing?”
“Obviously, it’s to cure your stage fright.”
Her body tensed visibly at my deadpan announcement.
“…I know it’s necessary, but is it possible? I tried my best when I decided to run, you know.”
And that effort led to that disaster, meaning her issue was severe.
Still, if she’s serious about becoming president, she has to overcome it.
“Here’s the deal: shyness comes from fearing embarrassment or rejection. That fear builds up, conditioning you to freeze up reflexively. So, we break that reflex.”
“…Makes sense. So how do we do that?”
“You stack up successful experiences. Keep facing attention until it feels like no big deal.”
In her The Nightmare of Calamity days, Nagi thrived in the spotlight because of those repeated successes. Now, those same experiences were failures in her mind, flipping her into a shy mess. The fastest fix was to build new successes in her current state.
“…Okay. I’ll give it a try!”
Seeing a glimmer of hope, Nagi perked up.
“That’s the spirit. It’s simple: just say ‘yes’ to whatever I say from now on.”
“…That’s it?”
Surprised by the simplicity, Nagi looked almost disappointed.
“Yup. And don’t move from that spot.”
Flashing a bright smile, I turned and walked about ten meters away before facing her again.
Nagi stared at me, puzzled.
Taking a deep breath, I shouted at her.
“Nagi! I’ve loved you forever! Go out with me!”
A sudden, booming confession.
“What…!?”
Nagi’s eyes widened in shock. Naturally, passersby—salarymen, students, stall vendors—froze and turned to stare.
Exposed to countless eyes, Nagi stiffened, just like at school. Her mind was probably blank.
But it’s fine. I’d already given her instructions.
People handle unexpected chaos better when they know what to do, especially if it’s simple.
As predicted, Nagi, lips trembling, managed to squeak out,
“Y… Yes!”
The moment she answered, the onlookers erupted into applause.
I strode back to her, throwing an arm around her shoulder.
“Thanks, everyone! We’re gonna be happy together!”
Waving to the crowd, I led a completely drained Nagi out of the plaza.
We walked in silence for about a minute along the station road.
“That… was insane!?”
Nagi, face red, finally broke free from my arm to protest.
“Whoa, you’re back. Nice job, that’s progress!”
“Progress, my foot! Warn me before you do something like that!”
She glared at me, teary-eyed, as I laughed it off.
“If I warned you, it wouldn’t be… er, training.”
“You were gonna say ‘fun,’ weren’t you!? You totally prioritized your own amusement!”
“No, no. It’s because you weren’t prepared that it became a powerful success experience.”
Dodging her accusations breezily, I sensed her give up pursuing it as she sighed and softened her edge.
“…Well, I did manage to speak up in front of people.”
Even if it was a scripted line, she seemed to feel the first step, looking somewhat satisfied.
“See? Worth it. I went through some embarrassment too.”
As I basked in my coach-like pride, Nagi gave me a skeptical look.
“…Speaking of, how do you just confess like that in public, even as an act? How’d you build that kind of iron will?”
“Easy. Spending a year with a maxed-out chuunibyou girl, getting weird looks all the time. Embarrassment’s basically numb to me now.”
“Shouldn’t have asked!”
Nagi covered her face with both hands, her ears bright red.
“Stepping on your own landmines? That’s talent.”
As I chuckled, the sunset caught my eye—a twilight red that reminded me of The Nightmare of Calamity and my meiyuu days.
“Ugh… so embarrassing. The old me was just…”
But the girl beside me was nothing like those days. This wasn’t a continuation of that time.
It felt… a little lonely.
“…Kurusu-kun? Still laughing?”
Nagi peered at my face, puzzled.
I touched my lips, surprised to find them curved into a smile.
“…Was I?”
I hadn’t even noticed.
I’d felt a pang of loneliness, so why was I smiling?
“You totally were. So mean.”
Her sulky tone made it click.
Right—that’s it.
The days of just wallowing in memories were over.
A new chapter was starting.
Unconsciously, I’d sensed it.
“…Nah, just happy my confession to you worked out. Guess I’ve got a girlfriend now.”
Savoring the feeling, I teased her, and Nagi’s face flushed again.
“N-No way! That was just training! It doesn’t count! I didn’t accept!”
“Aww…”
“No ‘aww’!”
Trading silly banter, we kept walking.
Toward a future so noisy we wouldn’t have time to be bored.
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