Episode 2: [The Natsuki(s) of Seishinkan]
0 / B
The first time I was confronted with the pure, undeniable fact that I was just not worth caring about was back when I was still in elementary school.
It happened at a standing buffet during some party.
I don’t remember the exact location, but it was at a high-end hotel somewhere in Tokyo. My mother had dragged me along to one of her work events—some corporate party. To be honest, from the very beginning, I had zero interest in being there.
Most of the attendees were adults, and their conversations went way over my head. More importantly, nobody gave a damn about me.
—The only lucky part was that I wasn’t the only kid stuck in that situation.
The children were gathered in a separate room, given some food, and left to mingle among themselves. Since I wasn’t particularly shy, I was at least somewhat satisfied with the idea of hanging out with kids my own age.
But what was the unlucky part?
The fact that I was the only kid there who didn’t know how to act in social settings.
I was bored out of my mind at this stupid adult party and annoyed about being dragged there. That alone wouldn’t have been a problem—but I also assumed all the other kids felt the same way.
I never realized, until it was too late, that I was the only one being loud and obnoxious while the rest sat quietly and waited.
“Hey. Let’s sneak out and go play somewhere!”
To me, that suggestion was obvious.
I didn’t even consider the possibility of being refused.
“B-But… Dad said we should stay here and behave…”
Of course, the kid I tried to drag along resisted.
That kid was already a bit of an odd one out among the group.
Looking back now, I was the one who didn’t fit in—and the reasons we stood out were completely different. But to me, that kid was one of the few “friends” who actually paid attention to me.
“C’mon, it’ll be fine! We’ll come back before anyone notices! This place sucks anyway, right?”
“O-Okay… Fine, but you’re taking me with you?”
—That was the moment that sealed my fate. The moment that proved, beyond any doubt, how worthless I truly was.
The reason for the final, irreversible rift between me and that so-called “friend”—Natsuki—after just one night.
After the party, my mother told me:
“Listen, Sou. People spend their whole lives being judged by others. That’s just how society works. Everyone’s always measuring how much value you have.”
Yeah… I figured as much.
Even though there were plenty of kids my age at that party, even they were carefully watching each other—gauging who was useful and who was worthless with sharp, calculating eyes.
Appearance, clothing, attitude, gaze, expression, family background, talent, intelligence, physical ability, skill.
At that moment, I caught a glimpse of a world where every single trait was just another tool in a never-ending competition.
Of course, back then, I was branded as disqualified. But I couldn’t accept that. So from then on, I made it my mission to defy that kind of judgmental thinking with everything I had. A fragile, childish, utterly pointless rebellion.
Or maybe… it was just raw fear of being told, “You have no worth.”
Back then, my mother had also given me one more piece of advice:
“—You’re just not cut out for this kind of thing, Sou.”
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.PAGES.DEV
1
The day after my meeting with the student council president.
Once again, I arrived at school early—this time without any trouble—and made it to the classroom without incident.
Alone in the room, I took another look at the documents I’d received yesterday.
They were probably compiled by the student council. The contents were basic public information—exam rankings, class assignments, club memberships—nothing more.
In other words, there was almost nothing useful here.
Not even birthdays or blood types were listed.
Honestly, most of the pages were blank, almost as if they were saying, “Go find the rest yourself.”
The only detail explicitly stated was that all three girls had been admitted under the “special talent” system.
But considering the nature of the request, that much was obvious.
“…Talent, huh…”
The student council’s request was simple: They wanted these girls to rediscover the talents they had when they first enrolled—and they wanted me to help make that happen. That was it.
I get what they’re trying to do.
If a student got in on a sports scholarship for baseball, for example, the school wouldn’t be happy if they just quit baseball. (Unless, of course, there was a valid reason like an injury.)
Now that I think about it, that’s probably why President Tokimoto brought this to me.
If the school—or even the student council—tried to force this issue, it’d only backfire. If they wanted to keep doing their talents, they’d already be doing it.
So handing it off to someone like me—someone with no official ties to anyone—was a smart move. If I succeed, great. If I fail? The student council loses nothing.
“Which means the first hurdle is figuring out what their ‘special talents’ even are…”
Without that, there’s no way forward.
It would’ve been nice if the documents had that info, but I’m guessing admission details aren’t public. There are probably ways to find out, but I’ll leave that for later.
That leaves one immediate problem:
“How the hell do I even approach them?”
“The student council asked me to do this”—leading with that would probably be a terrible idea.
Unlike my usual work, this request is basically about making them do something they don’t want to do. Calling this an request an “exchange,” makes President Tokimoto sound almost manipulative.
Staring at the papers spread across my desk, I spent a while thinking about my next steps.
—About two minutes later, the second student arrived.
“Good morning, Sou-san. You’re the first one here today, too.”
The girl who slid open the classroom door smiled at me, and I returned the expression.
“Yeah—good morning, Kimiya.”
“Are those documents from the student council, Sou-san?”
I gave a small nod.
“Yeah. They asked me to handle something, so…”
“I’ve heard. I was also asked to assist you. Did they mention it?”
“Oh, right, they did… So you already know the details?”
“Yes. Honestly, I was expecting you to reach out to me first.”
As she spoke, she set her bag down at the seat next to mine.
Kigyou and I have close student numbers, so our seats are neighbors.
“Well, it’s technically my job, so I’d rather handle as much as I can alone.”
“…You actually took it on? I had a feeling, but…”
She let out a small sigh.
“I mean, the mood wasn’t exactly ‘refusable.’”
“There’s nothing in it for you, Sou-san. President Tokimoto is sharp, but he can be pushy. Maybe my silence backfired…”
“So… you disagreed with this?”
“I’m not criticizing your decision. It’s partly my responsibility, too.”
Kimiya was careful to defer to me—
almost too careful, honestly.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Well… some advice would be nice.”
“Just advice? That’s all?”
“You’re busy too, Kimiya. I don’t wanna bother you more than necessary.”
“…Right. The truth is, I don’t really get along with those three. So ‘advice’ might be all I can offer.”
“Wait, really?”
“It’s not that we’re enemies, but… well, there are complications.”
She shook her head slightly.
It was rare to see Kimiya—who usually got along with everyone—act like this.
Still, I hesitated to pry further.
After a moment, I asked:
“Hey, Kimiya… Were you a ‘special talent’ admit?”
“Me? No, I took the standard academic exam.”
“Oh… I kinda assumed it was something sports-related.”
“I’ve dabbled in a few things, but nothing competition-worthy. Besides, very few students get in on sports talent at the middle school level.”
“Really?”
“It is just middle school. For sports, it’s usually better to go to a specialized school. There is one upperclassman who’s a figure skater, though.”
“Huh… Seishinkan does have a wide range.”
But it makes sense. If I were serious about baseball, I’d go to a school known for it—not here.
“By the way… do you know what these three got in for?”
I pressed further. Since Kimiya seemed familiar with the list.
She tilted her head slightly, thinking, then finally spoke.
“One of them. I haven’t confirmed it, but I can guess for Shiranui-san.”
“Oh, so she’s kinda famous?”
Seeing me nod along, she gave me a slightly odd look.
“Very famous. More than you’d think. In fact… I’m pretty sure you know her too, Sou-san.”
“Me…?”
As I tilted my head in confusion, Kimiya nodded slightly.
Then, she continued like this:
“She was a former child actress. Under the name ‘Akasaka Natsuki,’ she was a celebrity who once took the world by storm.”
My eyes widened in shock.
“—Wait, seriously…?”
“Seriously.”
“So that’s how it was… No, I actually know that name…!”
She must have starred in a work that became a social phenomenon back when I was a kid. Even someone like me, who barely watches TV dramas, knew about her—so she must have been a huge star.
At the time, I was in the peak of my trauma where just hearing the name “Natsuki” (let alone saying it) reflexively made my stomach ache, so I did my best to avoid anything related to her…
Visit the request page If there’s a Japanese Light Novel (LN) or Web Novel (WN) you’d like me to translate
When the donation goal progress bar above hit 100% one novel will be chosen for translation
| Table of Contents | Next* |
Support the Author by Buying the Original Books!
