1. It's a standard trope to have a beautiful foreign girl in the class

Akiba Masato—that is to say, me—was just your average introverted high school student.

I was proud of being an introvert.

Well, I hadn't exactly reached the enlightenment or anything, but I didn't feel inconvenienced by my introversion.

My hair was unkempt, my uniform was worn correctly without any alterations, and I looked like a serious student.

Since I didn't have a single friend in my class, you could safely call me the introvert of introverts.

I could always be found messing around on my tablet in the corner of the classroom.

And as for what I did on that tablet, I drew.

Usually, in this sort of situation, people would ask you to draw anime or manga characters, or maybe even sketches of classmates and teachers. However, perhaps because I was far too introverted, I never received such requests.

Not that I would have drawn them even if they asked.

It wasn't that I was stingy; I just had no desire to draw those things.

When it came to things I didn't want to draw, I refused to draw even a single line.

I'd gladly draw manga and anime characters, provided I was actually into them.

After all, justas my appearance suggested, I was not only an introvert but an otaku as well.

I didn't reject derivative works, either.

I loved doujin works, whether they were derivative or original.

Because they weren't commercial, people's personal tastes were laid bare, and I found that endlessly fascinating.

It was just that I couldn't find anything I liked in this classroom.

There was simply nothing here that made me want to draw.

That was why I endlessly sketched whatever popped into my head.

Men and women of all ages, animals, plants, mountains, oceans, buildings, cities—I drew them all entirely from my imagination.

Ever since I was a child up until today, my first year of high school, I had done nothing but draw.

Even doodles served as practice, and they were more than enough to kill time while I was at school.

"Nii-san~!"

"......"

The natural enemy of my free time had appeared.

"Are you drawing again? It's fine, you know; the people around you aren't your enemies. If you try talking to them, you'll see they're all nice guys. You just have to muster your courage and take a step forward. Now, go on!"

"Don't give me that 'go on' crap," I muttered in response.

She was one of the few people who willingly spoke to an introvert like me—Akiba Ayari.

She had a brown ponytail and a petite frame, standing at a hundred and Fifty-Five centimeters tall.

She wore her uniform with a short-sleeved blouse, a ribbon, a knit vest, and a miniskirt.

She gave off the exact vibe of a cheerful extrovert, and her personality matched it perfectly.

"I'm alone because I like it that way. You prefer being with a big group, right?" I asked.

"I like being with you too, Nii-san."

"......"

This girl called me her older brother, and we shared the same last name.

In short, we were siblings—step-siblings, to be exact.

She was the daughter of my father's second wife. Although we were in the same grade, my birthday came earlier in the year and I was born a year before her, so she ended up as the "younger sister."

Our parents remarried and we became siblings during our second year of middle school—about two years ago.

Even though we were only step-siblings, we somehow ended up in the same class in high school.

Since we shared a last name, the whole class knew we were related.

"Just go hang out with your friends, Ayari. Do you have enough allowance?"

"What are you, my dad? Seriously, your cute little sister is taking the time to keep you company... Nii-san, if you're going to draw anyway, why not use her as a model?"

"Her?" I asked, puzzled.

A single female student walked through the classroom door.

She had blonde hair, gorgeous features, and a slender figure.

Even the way she walked was beautiful, almost like a model.

"Noël Lambert. Aside from me, she's the only one around here who's actually picturesque, isn't she?" Ayari pointed out.

"Way to casually brag about yourself. Lambert-san, huh..."

It wasn't as if I was completely oblivious to what went on at school.

Lambert-san had come all the way from France this spring.

Apparently, her mother had been living in Japan for a long time, and she came over to live with her.

No one knew the exact circumstances—why they were living apart, or why they had suddenly decided to live together now.

Rumor had it that she hadn't come for a limited study abroad program, but had officially enrolled as a regular student.

"Good morning."

Lambert-san offered a brief greeting to no one in particular and made a beeline for her seat.

The seat at the very back by the window seemed practically made for her.

As soon as she sat down, she took out her smartphone and started tapping away rapidly.

It didn't look like she was watching videos or browsing the net, so perhaps she was exchanging messages on LINE.

Since none of our classmates had the guts to peek over her shoulder, nobody actually knew what she was doing on her phone.

"Lambert-san's got her ice shield fully deployed again today," Ayari remarked.

"Ayari, why don't you go bother Lambert-san instead of me? You're both girls, after all," I suggested.

"I've tried talking to her tons of times! But that ice wall of hers is way too thick."

"So even an extrovert like you can't break through, huh."

Lambert-san—no, I think I'll just secretly call her Noël.

To be completely honest, the name "Noël¹" just kind of made my otaku heart flutter.

And that Noël was even more isolated in the classroom than I was.

It wasn't that she was actively intimidating everyone around her; it was just that she gave off an incredibly unapproachable aura.

"Just like you can't get close to her, Ayari, I can't draw her either. An ice shield? Because of that, I couldn't draw her even if I wanted to."

Two months had passed since we enrolled in this high school, but it seemed like not a single person had managed to get close to Noël.

"Even if I tried to draw her, it would just end up being a superficial imitation. I have no desire to draw something like that," I added.

"Jeez, Nii-san, you're always so serious when it comes to your art. You draw way too much every single day. Isn't your hand going to fall off?" Ayari sighed.

"I've heard of someone whose shoulder bone actually shattered from drawing too much," I stated matter-of-factly.

"What the heck, that's terrifyingggg!" she shrieked.

Of course, what I just said wasn't a made-up story; it was something I had actually heard about.

"Nii-san, drawing is prohibited at school! I'll be taking this tablet for safekeeping!" Ayari declared.

"What are you, some kind of meddlesome little sister?" I retorted.

Is she one of those 'moe' little sisters that used to be popular back in the day?

"Ah, hey, Ayari!" I yelled.

"No means no!" she teased.

Quick as a pickpocket, Ayari snatched my tablet right out of my hands.

With my device in hand, she immediately took off running. I hurriedly stood up and chased after her.

"Hey, Ayari──"

"I said no──eek!"

Fleeing from me, Ayari crashed into the desk at the very back of the classroom and dropped the tablet.

Or so I thought──until a hand suddenly shot out and caught it mid-air.

"Ah," Ayari gasped.

I stopped dead in my tracks right in front of that particular desk.

"Guhhhhh,"

"You're getting a little too carried away, Ayari."

I gave a light pat to the head of my stepsister, who had just let out a weird yelp after bumping her hip against the desk.

"Thanks, Lambert-san. It would've been a disaster if that tablet had fallen."

"Don't mention it."

My savior who had caught the tablet—Noël—replied curtly.

"Is this yours? Here."

"Yeah, thank— What's wrong?"

Noël had started to hold out the tablet, but she suddenly froze in place.

It seemed she'd caught a glimpse of the screen, which was still turned on.

Displayed there was a drawing of a single girl.

It was an illustration of a girl sitting on a solitary chair left in an otherwise empty classroom.

"You... this drawing...!"

"What do you think? It's a great drawing, right?"

I wasn't about to feign modesty.

I had absolute confidence in my own art.

Looking at interviews with illustrators and browsing social media, even professionals with overwhelming talent often lament their own lack of skill.

Even the genius painter Katsushika Hokusai was said to have considered himself inexperienced well into his twilight years.

But I recognized the value of my own work.

Of course, I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a genius or claim my work was flawless, but I genuinely believed I was good at drawing, and that my pieces were well-made.

Acknowledging the quality of my own art and putting in the effort to improve were two entirely different matters.

"...What's your name?" Noël asked.

"Akiba Masato. Did you really not know?"

"I haven't bothered learning the boys' names at all. I apologize."

Even while dropping that unexpectedly harsh truth, Noël's eyes were still glued to the tablet.

"Akiba Masato... I've finally found it. My..."

"Hm?"

Noël held the tablet out toward me.

"L'Ame soeur.²"

She muttered that single phrase.

I wish she'd just speak Japanese.

1 “Noël” means “Christmas”. It’s pronounced as “NOH-el” in English and “noh-EL” in French, as it is a French word.