Chapter One: A Goal Is Merely a New Starting Line
“Finally… it’s over…!” Nagi slammed the Enter key on her laptop and collapsed onto the desk, utterly spent.
“Good work, President-san. Now we can finally welcome summer break.”
Having finished my tasks earlier, I placed an iced milk tea on the student council president’s desk as a small gesture of appreciation.
Today was the last day of the first term.
In the student council room, we were staying late after the closing ceremony to wrap up the remaining work before summer break.
“Thanks, Kurusu-kun. Ugh… I never imagined being student council president would be this exhausting…”
Sipping her milk tea, Nagi let out a deep sigh.
With her long, flowing black hair and fair skin, Nagi was a refined, delicate beauty—almost ethereal. Yet her current aura was that of an overworked corporate drone at a toxic company.
This was the fate of a girl who had sacrificed precious moments of her youth to the overwhelming workload of the student council president.
Digitizing the council’s paper records, a tradition passed down for generations, was no small feat. The sheer volume of work was staggering.
“But, like, Kurusu-kun, you’ve been doing just as much work as me, and you seem totally fine.”
Nagi looked at me curiously.
I puffed out my chest with a smug grin.
“Well, of course. I’ve been tempered by Mea’s endless unreasonable demands. Compared to being asked with a straight face to come up with policies to improve the ‘world of darkness,’ this is nothing.”
“I shouldn’t have asked! My exhausted heart can’t handle reliving that dark history!”
Nagi covered her face with both hands, her shoulders trembling. “The world of darkness doesn’t even have any residents…! What kind of cringeworthy nonsense was I thinking, obsessing over the details of a world that only exists in my head…?”
“Hey, hey, there’s a saying that ‘God is in the details,’ right? Oh, wait, the world of darkness is supposed to be a paradise for demons who oppose God, isn’t it? Guess God wouldn’t be there, then.”
“Aaagh! I’m such an idiot!”
Nagi writhed in embarrassment. Truly, today was as peaceful as ever.
As I savored the calm moment, the student council room’s door suddenly opened.
“Good work, you two. Looks like you’ve wrapped things up nicely.”
The voice belonged to a slightly mature-looking female student with soft, reddish long hair.
It was our student council vice president, Mutsu Issa-senpai.
“G-Good work… We somehow managed to finish.”
Caught mid-cringe, Nagi shrank in embarrassment and gave a small bow.
“All done on your end too, Senpai?”
“Yes. Just finished the last of my tasks.”
With a proud smile, Senpai held up a convenience store plastic bag.
Inside were snacks and drinks—tempting treats galore.
“A little gift from the teachers. If you’ve got time, how about a little end-of-term celebration?”
“Heck yeah! I’m in!”
“Um, me too…”
Senpai’s proposal passed unanimously.
Despite our lingering fatigue, we spread the snacks across the long table and poured juice into paper cups.
“Now, President-san, would you do the honors?”
“M-Me?”
Nagi blinked in panic at Senpai’s prompting.
She shot me a pleading look, but I deliberately put on a serious expression and nodded deeply.
“That’s right. This is the duty of the highest authority. Go on, President. Please.”
Cornered, Nagi took a deep breath, her nervousness palpable, and spoke.
“Ugh… A-Alright, then… To the new student council’s first term—great work, everyone! Here’s to our continued efforts! C-Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
Matching Nagi’s toast, Senpai and I raised our juice cups.
…The old Nagi would’ve completely frozen in a moment like this.
Inwardly rejoicing at her growth, I took a sip of the orange juice poured into my cup.
──Once, there was an idol known as the “The Nightmare of Calamity.”
With striking looks and painfully chuunibyou antics, she stirred the world, captivating it even more than she shocked it. She came within a hair’s breadth of conquering the industry, only to vanish abruptly from the public eye.
That girl was my best friend in middle school.
I reunited with her shortly after starting high school.
…Or rather, I must have encountered her on the day of the entrance ceremony, but I failed to recognize my old friend for nearly two months. After all, she had completely shed her chuunibyou persona, transforming from a flamboyant idol into the refined, class-representative-type girl.
That girl was none other than Nagi Kanagi.
Together with Nagi, I fought in the student council election, defeating our rival, Mutsu-senpai, and successfully securing the position of student council president. Thus, we earned our daily life as student council members.
──Two months had passed since that fateful day.
The first summer since our reunion had arrived.
The amber glow of the evening sun bathed us as we left the school and headed home.
Wrapped in the pleasant fatigue of finishing our work and celebration, I gazed absently at the setting sun.
For me, the color of the sunset always evoked memories of Mea.
The times we spent together most often were under skies like this, just before the sun dipped below the horizon.
“Now that school’s out for a while, we’ll need to start thinking about college choices soon, won’t we…?”
Walking slightly ahead, Mutsu-senpai let out a sigh as we made our way home.
“Already thinking about that? Isn’t there still over a year until entrance exams?” I asked, a bit surprised.
Senpai shrugged. “A year passes in the blink of an eye. You two will be in the same position this time next year. Better start preparing now, okay?”
“Ugh, what a hassle,” I groaned, my face souring.
“The future…”
Beside me, Nagi muttered softly, her gaze cast downward in confusion. Then she looked up at Mutsu-senpai.
“Senpai, have you decided what you want to be in the future?”
“Yep. I’m going to be a teacher,” Mutsu-senpai declared confidently, her words brimming with resolve.
…Her words brought to mind a story I’d heard before—about the bullying incident at this school and its aftermath.
That event likely influenced her career choice.
But asking about it felt intrusive, so instead, I offered different words.
“I bet you’ll make a great teacher, Senpai.”
“Hehe, thanks.”
Senpai accepted my compliment with a gentle smile.
“Though, my big brother wasn’t thrilled about it.”
“Oh? Really?” I asked, surprised by the unexpected tidbit.
I only knew of Mutsu-senpai’s brother through hearsay, but I hadn’t pegged him as someone so dense he’d miss his sister’s aptitude for teaching.
“Yeah. He’s planning to start his own company someday. Apparently, he wanted me to work there with him.”
“Wow. Sounds like he’s got some grand ambitions.”
“Right? Honestly, he’s barely started university, and he’s already thinking that far ahead.”
Senpai’s tone, a mix of exasperation and pride, made her seem a little more innocent—almost childlike—revealing a charm different from her usual demeanor.
“He’s even networking with our student council’s alumni for his future plans. Nagi-chan, you might get invited to the alumni association, so if you meet my brother, be nice to him, okay?”
“Y-Yes… I’m not sure how well I’ll manage to talk to him, though…”
Imagining meeting such an illustrious predecessor, Nagi nodded stiffly, visibly tense.
But something else caught my attention.
“Invited to the alumni association…? Senpai, isn’t the student council alumni association open to all former student council presidents?”
A chill ran down my spine.
It was as if I’d just noticed a cliff right behind me.
“No, that’s not how it works. In the past, invitations might have been sent to everyone, but… Suihou isn’t exactly a prestigious school anymore. They only invite those who achieved significant accomplishments during their tenure.”
Her casual words hit me, and I instinctively glanced at Nagi.
What the heck? Nobody told us that!
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nagi, oblivious to my gaze, muttered softly before freezing completely.
…It seemed this was news to her too.
After parting ways with Mutsu-senpai, we entered a slightly upscale café—the same one we’d visited on the day of our reunion.
In the pleasantly quiet atmosphere, we sat across from each other and let out simultaneous sighs.
“Just to confirm, did you know about what Mutsu-senpai said?” I asked, breaking the heavy silence.
“…First I’ve heard of it,” Nagi replied, her voice strained, as if wrung from her exhausted body.
No wonder. We were already worn out, and then we got hit with a bombshell that upended everything. It’s only natural she’d react like this.
“It seems my info came from my mom, so it must’ve been outdated… I confirmed the alumni association still exists, but I had no idea the eligibility criteria had changed.”
It must’ve slipped through during her fact-checking.
Still, moping wouldn’t help. Compared to brainstorming policies for the “world of darkness,” the goal was still in sight.
“Don’t get too down. It’s just one more thing to tackle. We’re still moving forward. Let’s make some achievements and meet the criteria this time!”
“Kurusu-kun… Yeah, thanks.”
My encouragement seemed to work, as Nagi straightened her posture, regaining some of her energy.
“Now, the question is what to do specifically. From past trends, it seems planning and successfully executing an event is highly valued.”
Fortunately—or unfortunately—the task we’d been working on this term was digitizing the student council’s records.
Naturally, we’d reviewed the past councils’ achievements in those records. Cross-referencing them with Mutsu-senpai’s list of presidents invited to the alumni association revealed a pattern.
“Event planning…” Nagi murmured, nodding as she processed the idea.
“Yep. People who coast through their term without taking initiative get weeded out. You need to proactively plan something, anticipate potential issues, prepare countermeasures, and execute it. It’s a test of leadership and practical skills.”
That must be the ideal image of a Suihou student council president.
And likely the qualities the alumni association seeks in future talent.
“That’s… probably the skill I’m worst at,” Nagi muttered, her face twisting as if she’d bitten into something bitter.
But I could confidently refute that.
“Not true. You took the initiative to run for student council president, didn’t you? That’s proof of your proactiveness.”
In theory, anyone capable of becoming president should naturally meet this standard.
This criterion probably exists to filter out those who get complacent after winning the election.
“Well… I only ran because I had no choice. And I leaned on you for most of the practical stuff,” Nagi said, still looking uneasy.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to do everything yourself. Recognizing your weaknesses and recruiting people to cover them—that’s part of practical ability. As long as you deliver results, no one can complain.”
Results are everything. It’s a harsh truth, but also a kind one.
No matter the means, if you produce results, you’ll be recognized.
“Is that… how it works?”
“Damn right it is.”
My firm assurance finally seemed to ease Nagi’s tension, her shoulders relaxing.
“Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”
“Good. So, what we need now is a project to prove it.”
“Hmm… If we’re talking about something soon, maybe the cultural festival?”
After some thought, Nagi suggested the obvious large-scale event.
But I shook my head.
“That’s tough. The cultural festival happens every year. Just running it smoothly won’t count as an achievement.”
If that were enough, every president would be invited to the alumni association.
“Then, maybe we do something flashy and different at the festival?”
It was a reasonable suggestion.
But I shook my head again.
“That’s also tough. There was a president who increased the budget to make the festival flashier, but they weren’t invited. It probably means achievements bought with money don’t count.”
When I shared what I’d read in the records, Nagi’s face stiffened.
“Ugh… Yeah, if it’s something anyone could do with a budget, it doesn’t really reflect your ability.”
Exactly. Unless you secure the budget yourself, it’s just the school’s money.
“So, making the festival flashy is a last resort unless we come up with a brilliant idea. If it goes overboard and causes trouble, it could strain relations with the locals.”
The local community hasn’t changed in decades. Once you make an enemy of them, the consequences linger. The school wouldn’t want to take that risk either.
“Ugh… Then what do we do?”
Nagi faltered, and unfortunately, I didn’t have an answer either.
Silence settled over us.
In moments like this, ambient sounds become more noticeable. My ears naturally picked up the BGM playing in the café.
A bright, poppy idol song, oddly out of place in this upscale, adult-oriented establishment.
Maybe because of that contrast, it stuck in my mind. Whose song was this again?
“This is Eva’s…”
Nagi, her attention drawn to the same thing, glanced at the ceiling speakers and muttered.
Her words jogged my memory.
Right, this was by that idol, Evangeline Fushima.
A half-British girl with doll-like features, yet a surprisingly energetic persona—a gap that’s apparently quite popular.
And, if I recall…
“She’s Mea’s junior, right? This girl.”
I remembered seeing her perform with Mea at a few concerts.
“Yeah. Though their debuts were only six months apart… Since we’re from the same hometown, I kept an eye on her.”
“Wait, Mea’s hometown is the world of darkness, right? So, this girl’s from there too? Is she a demon?”
“She’s not a demon! I’m the only demon—wait, I’m not a demon either!”
Nagi’s loud outburst drew every eye in the café toward us.
She immediately shrank in embarrassment and cleared her throat.
“Ahem. Anyway, that’s why I was close with Eva. We even promised to return to our hometown someday for a triumphant concert… though it never happened.”
Nagi’s voice carried a tinge of loneliness.
“Well, Mea was a big deal back then. There probably wasn’t a venue around here big enough.”
Nodding in agreement, Nagi gave a wry smile.
“Yeah. I looked into it because I couldn’t let it go, but it didn’t work out. Apparently, the aging local council made hosting events too difficult.”
“I see. Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a summer festival or Christmas event around here—”
──Wait a second.
This is huge!
“We’ve got it! The project!”
My sudden excitement made Nagi jump.
“W-What? No way, a triumphant concert? That’s impossible!”
She flailed in a panic, vehemently refusing.
“Not that! A summer festival! You said earlier that causing friction with the locals is bad, right? So, what about the opposite?”
At my question, Nagi’s eyes widened as she caught on.
“You mean… holding an event to strengthen ties with the community could count as my achievement?”
“Exactly!”
And so, we settled on the event we’d pursue.
The next day.
“Ugh… How did it come to this?”
Her face flushed red and eyes teary, Nagi stood in the preschool’s playground, hugging herself tightly.
Her outfit was particularly noteworthy.
A bright yellow hat, a light blue top with elastic cuffs, and a maroon miniskirt.
Yes, Nagi was wearing a nostalgic smock.
“Man… There’s a certain, uh, forbidden thrill to this, huh?”
Seeing a high schooler in the same smock as preschoolers was so surreal that even I hesitated to look directly at her.
What was this feeling? The mix of secondhand embarrassment and a slight thrill. It felt like a door to something strange was about to open.
“Shut up! I’m changing as soon as my clothes are dry!”
Half-desperate, Nagi shouted through her tears, seemingly resigned.
The day after our café discussion, we had come to a nearby preschool.
To host a community event, gaining local support was key—especially from children, as their approval often swayed adults.
So, we dove right in as volunteers at the preschool. But what awaited us—or rather, Nagi-chan—was a terrifying baptism.
“Ha… Who’d have thought I’d get pelted with mud balls right off the bat?”
Nagi slumped, utterly dejected.
Indeed, thanks to the preschoolers’ overflowing mischievous spirit, she’d been hit with mud balls. Not just one or two, but a masterful triple barrage, as if Oda Nobunaga himself had been reborn.
(T/N: Oda Nobunaga, a prominent historical figure in Japan known for his military prowess during the Sengoku period. The mention of a "masterful triple barrage" and the Battle of Nagashino (1575) alludes to Nobunaga's innovative use of firearms in a devastating volley tactic that overwhelmed his enemies.)
Thus, like a defeated warrior at Nagashino, Nagi-chan had to send her uniform to the cleaners, leaving her no choice but to wear the preschool’s only available outfit: a smock.
“But, you know, it’s lucky they had an adult-sized smock due to an ordering mistake, right?”
Though, “adult-sized” might mean “cosplay-sized”? I didn’t dare ask who ordered it or for what purpose, as it seemed likely to unearth some unsettling information.
“Ugh…!”
Nagi let out a complicated sound, torn between relief at having something to wear and an absolute refusal to call this situation lucky.
As we talked, a preschool teacher approached from the main building. Upon seeing Nagi, she made a troubled expression.
“Kanagi-san, um… how should I put this…”
Being looked at with such apologetic eyes by the young female teacher, Nagi quietly turned her face away.
“Ugh… Please, don’t say anything.”
“Yes… Um, I asked the cleaners to rush, so your uniform should be back soon…”
Swallowing her apologies, the teacher shifted to a more businesslike tone.
“Got it…”
Nagi nodded, and an awkward silence followed.
This wasn’t great, considering building rapport with the teachers was part of our goal.
“Hey, don’t worry too much. Nagi-chan’s used to this kind of cosplay stuff.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I put an arm around Nagi’s shoulder with a grin.
“Kurusu-kun!?”
Nagi’s eyes widened in shock at my sudden comment.
“It’s true, right? You’ve done all sorts of cosplay thanks to me.”
“I-I did, but saying that in this situation could cause all kinds of misunderstandings!”
“Oh? Point out where I’m wrong.”
“W-Well…”
Stumbling over her words, Nagi faltered, and I puffed out my chest triumphantly.
“Nothing wrong with what I said, right? Besides, it suits you. It’s fine. This time, I feel like a new door has opened for me. So, let’s lean into this vibe going forward.”
“No way!”
Nagi squirmed, trying to escape my grasp.
“You two… are like that, huh?”
The teacher, watching us, blushed slightly.
Our banter must have led her to some scandalous misunderstanding.
“Well, I’ll leave that to your imagination.”
I flashed a sly grin, and the teacher nodded vigorously, her face still red.
Alright, looks like we’ve broken the awkward tension. Though Nagi was silently smacking my side in protest, I ignored it.
“Anyway, any progress on that matter?”
Seeing the mood lighten, I asked about our main objective.
“Oh, yes. Here they are. Only the oldest kids are learning to write, so the number is a bit small.”
The teacher pulled a stack of papers from her apron pocket.
About fifteen sheets—fewer than ideal, but plenty valuable.
“Thank you. This helps a lot.”
“No, no, I’m the one who feels bad for only being able to offer this.”
The teacher brushed off my gratitude with a humble attitude.
Just then, a child’s cry echoed from the main building, despite it being naptime.
“Oh, someone’s awake… Sorry, I’ve got to go.”
“No problem. Thanks for your help.”
The teacher gave a quick bow and hurried back to the building.
“Alright, things are going pretty smoothly!”
“Except for my clothes and my mental state!”
I grinned with satisfaction, but Nagi, the biggest victim of the day, let out a disgruntled cry.
Brushing it off, I examined the stack of papers.
They were letters written by the preschoolers.
In crayon, with clumsy hiragana, they wrote things like “I want to go to a summer festival” or “I want to wear a yukata,” brimming with the children’s innocent hopes.
Nagi peered at them too.
“But… will this really be the first step to reviving the summer festival?”
Still skeptical about the plan, she furrowed her brow.
“It’s better than going empty-handed. The local council stopped holding events due to aging, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, they’re mostly grandparents. And grandparents being weak to their grandkids is a fundamental law of the universe. That makes this kind of gift pretty effective.”
Our efforts—talking up the allure of summer festivals while watching the kids and then having them write letters to their grandparents—had paid off.
And, of course, we’d already confirmed that several of the council members’ grandkids attended this preschool.
The pure hopes of children and the genuine affection of the elderly.
Manipulating both to build our achievements—that’s our student council president, Nagi Kanagi-sama. Pretty cunning, huh?
“…You’re thinking something shady, aren’t you?”
My thoughts must’ve shown on my face, as Nagi gave me a suspicious glare.
“No way!”
“Then why’re you talking in katakoto!?”
“Don’t sweat it. Anyway, we’ve still got work to do. We’re here as volunteers, so let’s keep at it.”
(T/N: katakoto refers to a halting, simplistic, or exaggeratedly childish way of speaking in Japanese, often used to mimic the speech patterns of young children or non-native speakers, in here, kurusu quick denial count as that)
The trick to brushing things off is to pivot to a new topic with gusto.
“C-Can’t we at least wait until my clothes are dry? I’m kind of reluctant to work in this outfit…”
Nagi, clearly uncomfortable with parading around in a smock, hesitated.
“What are you talking about? Smocks originated as workwear. Wearing one practically screams ‘I’m ready to get to work!’”
“I’m not wearing this by choice!”
Nagi’s voice rose in protest.
That said, she had no choice but to pitch in.
“Come on, now. We didn’t get as many letters as we hoped. At the very least, we need to win over the preschool teachers and get them on our side. We can’t afford to slack off here.”
To be honest, targeting elementary schoolers with higher literacy rates would’ve been ideal.
But today was the first day of summer break. Reaching a large group of elementary students was impossible.
That’s why we had to settle for preschoolers with lower literacy rates.
Incidentally, kindergartens have summer breaks, but preschools don’t.
This difference worked in our favor this time, but… unfortunately, we didn’t gather enough petitions to sway the elderly council members.
That made securing more allies to fill the gap a top priority.
“Ugh…”
Nagi groaned, as if overwhelmed by the logic, though she seemed to understand.
I delivered the final push.
“Besides, the next task is disposing of trash left in the storage shed. You’ll just be going back and forth between the shed and the incinerator, where there’s hardly any foot traffic. It’s way less exposed than here.”
“I’ll help.”
Her response was immediate.
“Whoa, that’s quite something.”
The moment we opened the storage shed door, we were greeted by an impressive bamboo stalk.
It was massive. Bamboo? Sasa? There’s supposedly a botanical difference, but whatever it was, it was huge—easily five meters tall.
We’d been told to clear out the bamboo used for the Tanabata festival, which had been left in the shed, but this was definitely too much for the preschool teachers to handle alone.
“It’s bigger than I expected… Can we even carry it between the two of us?”
Nagi, clearly intimidated by its size, sounded a bit anxious.
When she made that face, as someone who adores Nagi-chan, I couldn’t help but put on a brave front.
“This is nothing. I could handle it alone. Oh, but it’s still got tanzaku on it. Is it okay to burn these too?”
The bamboo’s wilted leaves were adorned with tanzaku strips, written by the preschoolers with their heartfelt wishes during the Tanabata festival.
I spotted names of some kids who wrote our letters, making me hesitant to dispose of them carelessly.
“It’s fine. I’m pretty sure burning them with the bamboo is the standard way to send off Tanabata wishes these days.”
Nagi, apparently familiar with the proper method, gave her approval to burn them.
“Huh, like a ceremonial bonfire?”
Relieved, I moved to lift the bamboo, but then I noticed something off about Nagi.
She was staring intently at each tanzaku, reading the wishes one by one.
The contents weren’t anything special—charming dreams like “I want to be a pilot” or “I want to be a florist.”
“…Nagi?”
Was she feeling guilty about burning them? I asked, and she snapped out of it, raising her head.
“Oh, sorry. It’s nothing.”
She gave a faint smile, but it lacked energy.
My instincts kicked in. This wasn’t “nothing” Nagi.
“Is it something I shouldn’t ask about?”
Probing further, Nagi looked surprised for a moment before shaking her head.
“…No, it’s not that. I just didn’t think it was worth mentioning. But, yeah, maybe I shouldn’t bottle it up.”
In the past, I wouldn’t have pressed, and the old Nagi wouldn’t have opened up.
But we’re different now.
No more keeping things in, bottling them up, or letting misunderstandings fester.
I pushed because I felt that way, and Nagi opened up because she did too.
“It’s really not a big deal. It’s just… when Mutsu-senpai said she wanted to be a teacher, it hit me. I don’t have anything like a dream for the future.”
Nagi spoke with a hint of embarrassment.
Anxiety about the future. Wondering if you’ll find a dream or something you want to do.
It’s a universal worry for many going through adolescence.
But Nagi’s case is different.
“Well… you’re someone who’s already achieved their dream.”
Nagi is on the side of those who’ve fulfilled their dreams.
She held a dream, seized the chance to make it real, and ran with it full throttle.
The “The Nightmare of Calamity.”
If exceptional people are called stars, Mea’s life was like a shooting star.
She condensed the dreams and ideals most people pursue over a lifetime into a fleeting, blazing moment, chasing them until she burned out.
That’s why she shone so brightly, captivating everyone around her.
“Yeah. I know it’s inevitable, to some extent,” Nagi said with a wry smile, her gaze returning to the tanzaku.
Her profile looked lonely.
“But I think that’s where the current Nagi loses most to Mea. Mea knew exactly what she wanted. She didn’t shy away from any hardship—she embraced it. As she charged forward, others followed, and the world around her came alive with color. That was the best part.”
She smiled nostalgically, but a tinge of self-deprecation crept into her expression.
“Meanwhile, Nagi’s been moving for things she doesn’t want. Changing her appearance to avoid her past being exposed, running for student council president to avoid returning to being an idol… Even being here now is like that. I can’t help but feel I’m losing to Mea.”
“It can’t be helped,” she muttered, as if raising a white flag.
Without thinking, I reached out and touched her cheek.
“Kurusu-kun?”
Startled, Nagi looked up at me. I met her gaze directly and spoke.
“──But choosing to stick with me wasn’t about running from something you didn’t want, right?”
Her breath caught.
Then, with a soft smile, she gently placed her hand over mine on her cheek.
“Of course not.”
“Then stop putting yourself down so much. You’re not just running from things you don’t want. You’re worrying too much.”
Encouraging her, Nagi pouted slightly before looking down.
“…I can’t help worrying. I want you to think Nagi is better than Mea, at least a little.”
──Damn it.
Completely caught off guard, my heart skipped a beat, and I was at a loss for words.
“…You’re playing dirty sometimes, you know that?”
I turned my face away, flustered.
Ugh, this is bad. I could feel my ears burning red.
As I stood there, red-faced, I felt Nagi’s gaze, now lifted, piercing me.
“Wow, that’s rare. You’re blushing, Kurusu-kun?”
“Shut up. You’re one to talk.”
Glancing at her, I saw Nagi’s face was as red as an apple.
My heart pounded in a 16-beat rhythm.
Our sidelong glances, stealing peeks at each other, suddenly locked.
I couldn’t look away.
Nagi, her face flushed, stared at me with eyes that seemed more luminous than usual.
I felt myself being drawn into her—
“Kanagi-san! The cleaning’s done!”
The preschool teacher’s sudden voice snapped us apart.
“The cleaners delivered it, so I brought it right over—uh, is something wrong?”
The teacher, beaming at first, noticed the strange atmosphere in the shed and looked between us in confusion.
“N-No, thank you! I’ll, uh, go change!”
Still bright red, Nagi grabbed the paper bag with her uniform from the teacher and hurried out of the shed.
“…Um, did I interrupt something?”
The teacher turned a probing gaze on me.
“…Nuh-uh, nothing’s up!”
No, really, it’s nothing. We were just working, honest.
Telling myself that, I let out a small sigh inwardly.
Despite that moment, we prepared for our proposal, secured an appointment with the local council, and arranged to present on Sunday.
“Ugh… I’m so nervous…”
On the day of the presentation, Nagi, as expected, was groaning with anxiety at the thought of speaking to unfamiliar adults.
We were already at the community center, the council’s base, and her nerves were getting the better of her. This didn’t bode well.
“Don’t stress so much. According to Mutsu-senpai, who set up the appointment, they seemed pretty receptive.”
Sharing some positive news softened Nagi’s expression.
“Then it might be okay…?”
“Yep, it’ll be fine. ‘Easier done than worried about,’ right? Let’s go.”
I tightened my uniform tie and led Nagi through the community center’s doors.
Following the guide map at the reception, we headed for the meeting room.
“Here it is.”
Stopping before the room at the end of the hallway, I knocked lightly on the door.
No response.
Were they out?
Tilting my head, I knocked again.
This time, a voice from inside said, “Come in.”
With a slight tilt of my head, I entered.
“Excuse us.”
“E-Excuse us.”
Inside was a conference table made of four long desks arranged in a square.
Normally, this room probably hosted lively debates, but today, only one person sat at the far end.
In a word: elderly.
Bald head, snow-white beard, hunched posture, and a slight tremble. He looked old enough to be celebrating his 99th birthday.
“Welcome, welcome.”
As we stared, the old man addressed us in a raspy voice.
Snapping out of it, we bowed.
“Th-Thank you for having us. I’m the president, Kanagi, and this is the vice president, Kurusu.”
Nagi’s voice cracked slightly, but she managed the greeting. The old man nodded slowly.
“Very polite. I’m Sugiura, the council president. Please, have a seat.”
“Excuse us.”
As we sat, Sugiura-san tilted his head.
“Now, what was today’s business…?”
Mutsu-senpai had mentioned our proposal when arranging the meeting, but Sugiura-san seemed to have completely forgotten.
“It’s about our request to hold a summer festival,” I said.
“Oh, yes, that’s right.”
Sugiura-san nodded as if recalling, though I wasn’t convinced he actually remembered. Is this guy okay…?
No time for doubts, though. We had a job to do.
Pulling the children’s letters from my bag, I spoke.
“Yes. Recently, our student council volunteered at a local preschool, where we learned many kids have never experienced a summer festival. We’re here to present their letters and propose restarting the festival, which is why we’ve asked for your time today.”
As I spoke, I stood and offered the letters to Sugiura-san.
Glancing at Nagi, I caught her slightly exasperated look.
Yeah, I made it sound like the festival idea came first, not the preschool visit.
But I didn’t lie, so it’s fine. A good presentation cuts irrelevant details.
“………………”
But Sugiura-san, head bowed, didn’t take the letters.
…Did he see through my sneaky framing? Some kind of old-man wisdom?
Cautiously, I peered at his face.
“…………Suu.”
He’s asleep!?
My long explanation was too much for him!?
“U-Um?”
“…Fgh!?”
I gently shook his shoulder, and he jolted awake.
“Oh, oh. Who might you be?”
And he reset our entire relationship. I’ve never met someone who loses human connections faster than me.
“We’re from Suihou High School.”
“Oh? Oh, yes, yes, that’s right.”
His memory seemed to return, and he finally took the letters.
After reading them closely, he narrowed his eyes and nodded.
“Hm. A summer festival, yes… We’d love to, but we’re short on hands.”
“We’ll take care of that. We’d be happy to help, however we can.”
Smiling, I offered our support, and Sugiura-san looked up slowly.
“Is that so? Can we leave it to you, then?”
“Yes, please do.”
“Then we’ll count on you.”
Despite my worries, we secured his approval.
Glancing at Nagi, I saw relief wash over her face, mirroring my own.
“Thank you very much. We’ll take care of most of the preparations, then. Would the fourth Saturday of August, following past precedents, be acceptable for the event date?”
“Aye, that’ll do.”
Seeming to conclude the discussion was settled, Sugiura-san grabbed his cane from beside him and stood.
“Come back next Sunday, if you would. The budget meeting will have the other council members, so you can introduce yourselves then.”
“Understood. Thank you.”
“Aye, then.”
With that, Sugiura-san shuffled out of the meeting room with a tottering gait.
Hmm… I’d heard the council was aging, but this was beyond what I expected…
“Good work, Kurusu-kun. I’m glad it came together somehow,” Nagi said.
“Yeah. I was a bit worried there… Let’s hope they don’t forget us by the meeting day,” I replied.
“Haha… I want to believe it’ll be fine,” Nagi said with a wry smile, echoing my concern.
Well, there’s nothing to do but trust. Even if they forget, as long as they recall us eventually, it’ll be fine. Let’s think of it that way.
“Anyway, the proposal’s been approved, so shall we start preparing?”
“Yeah!”
Perhaps because we’d taken a step toward our goal, Nagi nodded with unusual enthusiasm.
For the next week, we threw ourselves into preparing for the summer festival.
We dug through records from the last event, arranged necessary supplies, and made steady progress on troubleshooting plans.
“Kurusu-kun, are we ordering new equipment for the stalls?”
“Nah, the vendors bring their own. We’ve got some stock from our school’s cultural festival, so we’ll lend those to local vendors who want to set up.”
On the day of the budget meeting, we arrived at the community center early and worked in the second-floor lounge.
“Is it okay to use school equipment like that?”
“It’s part of student council activities, so I got permission.”
“Wow, you work fast.”
We discussed logistics while tapping away on a tablet.
A month into our student council duties, our teamwork had developed a seasoned rhythm.
Thanks to that, the plan was coming together nicely. Vendor orders were mostly done, and once the budget meeting wrapped up, we could start setting up the yagura stage.
That’s what I was thinking when—
Knock, knock. A rap echoed through the lounge.
“Excuse me.”
A clear, resonant female voice followed the sound of the door opening.
Nagi and I turned toward the entrance—and caught our breath.
The girl who entered, drawing both our gazes, was striking.
Soft blonde hair, fair skin, and sapphire-blue eyes that sparkled like gems. Her features were so perfect she could’ve been mistaken for a doll.
But upon spotting us, her face lit up with a bright expression, and she gave a slight bow.
“Hey, ‘sup. Mind if I join you?”
The doll-like girl transformed into a friendly, small-animal-like presence the moment she spoke.
“No, not at all,” I replied, thrown off by the instant shift in her demeanor and defaulting to a safe response.
Seemingly satisfied, the girl took a nearby seat and started fiddling with her phone, pulled from her bag.
…That was a surprise. Who is she?
And… what’s this? She feels familiar, but… no way I’d forget meeting someone like her.
“Ku-Kurusu-kun.”
As I grappled with an odd sense of déjà vu, Nagi, who’d slipped behind me, tugged awkwardly at my sleeve.
“What’s up?”
Sensing something serious in her hushed tone, I lowered my voice and turned to her.
Nagi, staring intently at the blonde girl engrossed in her phone, whispered in my ear.
“That’s… Eva.”
“Eva?”
Eva… Evangeline… Oh, Fushima Evangeline!
Now that she mentioned it, the girl matched my memory. No wonder she felt familiar.
“Hm? You call me?”
As I marveled at unexpectedly encountering a current idol in our hometown, the blonde girl—Fushima Evangeline—reacted to our conversation.
Instantly, Nagi hid behind me, her presence practically vanishing.
Yeah, I get it. Meeting an old acquaintance in her current state must be the last thing she wants…
“No, I just thought you looked familiar. You’re an idol, right?”
I stepped in with a neutral response.
“Oh, you know me, Onii-san?”
Evangeline’s face lit up with delight at my words. She was surprisingly friendly.
“Yeah, well, I was a fan of the ‘The Nightmare of Calamity.’ I saw you perform with her a few times.”
At that, Evangeline’s smile grew even brighter.
“Mea-senpai’s fan! Then you and I are kindred spirits, Onii-san! I’m a huge fan of Mea-senpai too!”
Her enthusiastic response made me feel Nagi twitch behind me.
Bet her face is bright red right now…
Still, I was thrilled to meet a fellow fan. I decided to keep the conversation going.
“Mea’s great, right? She has this way of bringing her own world to the stage.”
“Totally get it! Seeing her own it like that makes being cynical feel stupid. You just get sucked in before you know it!”
We nodded in agreement, bonding over our shared love for Mea’s best qualities.
This was fun. I could feel someone smacking my back, probably telling me to stop, but I ignored it.
“By the way, Fushima-san, what brings you here?”
“Call me Eva! Actually, I’m from around here, and I’m pitching a plan to hold a concert in town!”
Perhaps because we’d hit it off, Eva shared her purpose freely.
“A concert? That sounds awesome!”
A hometown concert, huh? Interesting.
Glancing at Nagi, I saw a complicated expression on her face, like she’d sensed something.
“Yup! I got the council president’s approval, but they told me to come today to meet the other members!”
Eva’s bashful admission was genuinely adorable. The raw charisma of a live idol was overwhelming.
“What about you guys… Oh, are you on a date?”
Her shy demeanor shifted to a grimace, as if regretting her question.
She must’ve noticed Nagi’s silence and assumed she was jealous of her boyfriend chatting up another girl.
Since we’d caused a misunderstanding, I had to set things straight.
“Yup, we’re on a date!”
“No, we’re not!”
I nodded confidently, only for Nagi to burst out reflexively.
“Tch… Thought I had a chance to seal the deal.”
“You can’t just say whatever you want because I’m quiet… Wait, oh no.”
Protesting, Nagi froze mid-sentence.
Then, with the stiff movements of a rusty tin doll, she turned toward Eva.
A reunion between idol senior and junior after so long.
Like with me, Nagi was deeply resistant to old acquaintances seeing her as she is now.
She completely froze.
“U-Um…”
Nagi’s tension radiated to me.
“Wow, your girlfriend’s super cute!”
But Eva, oblivious to the fact that the girl before her was the “The Nightmare of Calamity,” responded with a cheerful smile.
…Safe!
I could almost hear Nagi’s inner sigh of relief.
“No, I’m not his girlfriend.”
Realizing her identity hadn’t been exposed, Nagi relaxed enough to deny it.
“Really?”
Eva glanced at me for confirmation, looking a bit surprised.
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“Unfortunately, not at the moment. We’re actually from the local high school’s student council. We’re here to revive the summer festival as part of our activities.”
“That’s awesome! The summer festival stopped a while back, and I’ve always felt kinda sad about it. Let’s both do our best! My concert’s on the fourth Saturday of August, so if you’ve got time, I’d love for you to come!”
“Sure thing. Our festival’s also on the fourth Saturday of August, so you should—huh?”
The warm conversation screeched to a halt.
We locked eyes, falling silent.
“Um…”
Breaking the silence was a troubled-looking woman entering the lounge.
We’d met her a few times during festival preparations. She was a council staff member.
“Good work. Is the meeting over?” I asked.
“No, there’s been a bit of trouble… We’d like Suihou students and Fushima-san to come with us.”
The staff member looked awkwardly between the three of us.
A creeping sense of dread crawled up from my feet.
“Understood. We’ll come.”
Nagi, Eva, and I stood, following the staff member in silence.
Down the stairs, along the hallway, and into the meeting room.
Unlike last time, over ten adults were gathered inside.
True to the aging council, they all seemed in their seventies, but none were as old as Sugiura-san, which was a relief.
But in contrast to my eased nerves, they glanced at us and then uncomfortably looked away.
“President, I’ve brought them.”
“Well done.”
Amid the tense atmosphere, only Sugiura-san maintained his usual laid-back demeanor.
“So, what’s this about?” I asked, my voice stiff.
The staff member glanced at Sugiura-san before speaking.
“President, you approved Fushima-san’s event the other day, correct? What was the planned date?”
“…What was it, now?”
“And Suihou-san’s event date?”
“…What was it, now?”
This old man…!
As I stood in shock, the staff member pressed her temples, as if nursing a headache.
“Both are the fourth Saturday of August! Why do you make such important decisions on your own, President? And why didn’t you report it properly!?”
“…Why, indeed?”
Sugiura-san tilted his head with a blank expression.
Like pushing against a curtain or hammering a nail into bran—his deflection was masterful. The staff member sighed, her momentum sapped.
“U-Um… so, in other words…” Nagi asked, her face tense.
The staff member nodded, her expression genuinely apologetic.
“Yes… Due to our mistake, both Suihou-san and Fushima-san’s events are scheduled on the same day. We’re truly sorry.”
“Sorry about that,” Sugiura-san added, bowing deeply, though it was questionable whether he grasped the situation.
“We only just realized ourselves, so we’d like to arrange another meeting to apologize formally…”
“Forget that,” I cut in, addressing the core issue. “What happens with the schedule?”
“Well, we were hoping you two could discuss and adjust…”
The staff member looked between me and Eva with pleading eyes.
“We can’t reschedule. I turned down other gigs for this, and canceling would get me in huge trouble with the agency,” Eva said.
“We’ve already booked vendors. Shifting now might mean we can’t get enough stalls,” I added.
Hearing our situations, the staff member looked like she might cry.
“P-President! What do we do!?”
“…What do we do, now?”
“Why are you acting like it’s someone else’s problem!?” she wailed, grabbing Sugiura-san’s collar and shaking him.
“Oh, oh! I see my late wife!”
“Stop, stop! Any more, and he’ll die!”
As Sugiura-san nearly had a near-death experience, I restrained the staff member.
“Looks like the council doesn’t have a solution. Guess we’ll have to figure it out ourselves.”
“I’m so sorry…”
The staff member bowed deeply again.
Her beleaguered aura made it hard to stay mad.
“So, Eva, shall we start with a discussion?”
Seeking a compromise, I proposed to Eva.
“Fufufu! I refuse!”
To my surprise, Eva rejected me outright with a smug grin.
Caught off guard, I blinked.
“What, no room for negotiation? We’ll both crash and burn like this.”
“Sorry about that! But let’s settle it with a contest, not a discussion!”
Pointing dramatically at me, Eva pressed on despite my confusion.
“My respected Mea-senpai once said: the key to turning the mundane into entertainment is to enjoy the trouble and make it enjoyable!”
“Ugh!”
Beside the energized Eva, Nagi flinched, struck by her own past words.
Oblivious to her senior’s distress, the junior idol continued passionately.
“Settling this with a discussion is boring! So, let’s make it a contest! The other council members are here—how about they vote to decide which plan goes forward!?”
“That’s sudden,” I said, surprised but already calculating.
It was abrupt, but not a bad idea.
The worst-case scenario was a drawn-out discussion eating into prep time, leading to both events failing.
A contest, with a clear winner, could work.
“──But I’m in! After all, I’m a denizen of the world of darkness! Gotta honor the queen’s philosophy, right?”
“Guh!”
“That’s the spirit of a Mea fan! Mea-senpai also said true character shines in the heat of a soul-burning contest!”
“Au!”
Each time Eva and I got fired up, a pained cry came from somewhere, but we ignored it and pressed on.
“The vote’s in ten days! We’ll each make our plans as appealing as possible and pitch to the council!”
“Deal. No hard feelings!”
Eva and I faced off, our competitive stances clear.
“Wait… Did you settle everything while I was taking damage…?”
A bewildered murmur came from behind, but as usual, I ignored it.
──Thus began the battle over the summer event.
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