Episode 3: [Kageyuki Calculates]
0 / A
There are dark eras in life you’d rather forget—times everyone experiences at least a few times if they’ve been a student in modern Japan. It’s practically a rite of passage, something you just go through as you grow up.
But some memories dig so deep into your mind, you can’t forget them no matter how hard you try.
At that point, they’re more like a curse. A past so intense it reshapes the very core of who you are as a child inevitably dictates the course of your life.
──That party my mother took me to.
There was a boy there who tried to escape, dragging along a temporary friend as his accomplice.
Let me be clear—this wasn’t some grand incident that spiraled into disaster later.
My little elementary school “adventure” only went as far as the hotel garden where the party was held. No getting lost, no scolding, no life-threatening danger—just a harmless, small-scale exploration.
We had our fun and returned before the party ended. My mom scolded me afterward with the obvious, “At least tell me next time,” but that was it.
Time-wise, it couldn’t have taken more than an hour. The party itself lasted about three, so we barely missed anything.
──The unforgettable part happened after the exploration.
No—calling it an “incident” might be too much. At least, not for me.
Because it had nothing to do with me.
[“Choose Your Friends Wisely.”]
That was the phrase that reached my ears.
My exploration partner—my friend—was being told that by an adult.
Were they scolding her? Lecturing her? Either way, the message was clear: Don’t waste your time on worthless people.
I think it happened just before the party ended. After we got back, I talked to my mom for a bit, then went to find my friend again. That’s when I overheard it—in a hallway just outside the main venue.
[──You’re in a position where you can’t afford to associate with that kind of child.]
It took me a moment to realize they were talking about me.
The adult was probably just teaching their own child a lesson.
But the effect spilled over to the other kids—maybe because that adult held some kind of authority, or maybe it was just their intimidating presence. Either way, I doubt they meant for it to happen.
Yet the result was the same—I was excluded from the circle of children.
From then on, I spent the rest of the party alone.
The other kids there were all from wealthy families, fully aware of why they’d been brought to such an event.
That place was a social stage—even for children. They were there to be evaluated, to prove themselves. The only idiot brat who’d come for the fancy dinner was me.
And so, I was branded “not worth associating with.”
It made sense. At least, that’s what I can say now.
A child’s job at such events is to behave and stay out of the adults’ way. What parent would want their kid hanging around a troublemaker who sneaks off the moment they get bored?
Even back then, I knew I shouldn’t have dragged her along.
But—I still couldn’t accept it.
[“Choose your friends wisely.”]
That adult’s voice.
The way everyone looked at me.
The way people measure others by usefulness or worthlessness.
To my younger self, it was terrifying. Cruel.
But worse than any of that—
[“Okay, ——Natsuki.”]
[“Yes, I understand.”]
Back then, I was foolish enough not to believe it at first.
Even as a kid, I could tell whether someone was genuinely having fun or just pretending. From what I saw, she had enjoyed our time together.
So I wanted to confirm it—
To prove that what that adult said was wrong. That she didn’t regret spending those hours with me.
I clung to that naive hope till the very end. Which is why—
[“I’m sorry, Sou-kun.”]
[“Sou-kun… …not good enough.”]
That response—the one I never thought I’d hear—shattered me more than anything.
Even if we’d only spent a few hours together that day.
The fact that the girl I thought was my friend had also decided I was worthless.
That was the most unbearable truth of all.
From then on, that day became my curse.
──I don’t ever want to become like them. That was the oath I swore as a child.
──I will become exactly like them. The future my high school self would betray me for, without even realizing it.
1
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.GITHUB.IO
Ten days had passed since I teamed up with Shiranui, and there hadn’t been any major developments.
Not that I was idle—if anything, I was busier than usual. With midterm exams at the end of the month, several clubs rushed to request my help.
Not that any of it was particularly demanding.
The biggest tasks were assisting the newspaper club with interviews and compiling materials. Beyond that, I just filled in as a temporary manager for a few sports clubs. All in all, a pretty peaceful stretch.
On the other hand, recruiting for the Shiranui Unit was going nowhere.
The only thing I’d learned in that time was that Shiranui was untouchable—treated like some kind of social pariah.
[“I don’t have any friends at this school…”]
Every time we met in the shed, those tear-jerking words left me at a loss for a response.
And so, on May 23rd, a Thursday—
I decided it was time to make a real move. When lunch break arrived, I sprang into action.
In situations like this, there aren’t many people I can rely on. But the one who is always there for me makes the choice easy.
“Lunch. Would you care to join me, Sou-san?”
Exactly like that. Without me even asking, she always seem to know the perfect moment to reach out.
It’s almost scary how dependable she is.
“Ah… actually, I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“What a pleasant coincidence.”
My classmate—Kimiya Natsuki—smiled gracefully.
Her usual refined demeanor remained intact, though her eyes held a playful glint.
“Though, in that case, maybe I should’ve waited a little longer for you to invite me.”
“…Really? I thought you just read my mind again…”
“Not at all. But since you didn’t have any work today, I figured it was safe to ask.”
“…………”
“You’re free, so I thought—maybe you’d spare me a little time. Seems I was right. What a relief.”
Of course, I never report my jobs to Kimiya.
And yet, she always knows. At this point, I shouldn’t even be surprised.
“…You really pay attention, huh.”
“Of course. It’s you, after all.”
Lately, I’ve stopped blushing when Kimiya says things like that.
Not because I’ve gotten used to it—but because it’s starting to scare me.
Kimiya has this unsettling aura, like she’d casually say “I already knew” no matter what I did. The kind of person who offered to help me the first time we met.
“So, where to? The cafeteria?”
Kimiya asked
Her question was innocent enough, but to my paranoid ears, it sounded like “I know you haven’t bought lunch yet.” Maybe I’m overthinking it.
I nodded, and we headed to the cafeteria.
As we faced the endless line at the ticket machine, I turned to her.
“Want me to treat you? I’ve got meal tickets from work. Anything on the menu’s fine.”
Kimiya paused for a brief moment—then nodded.
“Then I’ll gladly accept.”
“Cool. What do you want?”
“What about you Sou san?”
“I dunno… wasn’t really thinking. The daily special’s fine.”
“Then I’ll have the same.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’ll go save us a seat. You handle the order?”
I watched as Kimiya slipped away from the line. Since I didn’t need to buy tickets, I headed straight for the counter. The cafeteria was packed—splitting up was the only way to secure a spot.
Maybe that’s why she let me treat her so easily.
“Seriously… Kimiya is the most perceptive person I’ve ever met.”
What’s impressive is how natural she makes it all seem—never overbearing, never obvious.
Just effortlessly considerate. It’s a skill I’d kill to have.
Maybe I should’ve apprenticed under her back in middle school. Wait—is it too late now?
Lost in thought, I finished the order.
By the time I turned around, Kimiya was already back.
“Got us a seat.”
“…Too competent…”
“…Um, isn’t that a bit of an overreaction…?”
…Was it? Maybe.
As that thought crossed my mind, we picked up our food and sat down.
“Let’s eat, Sou-san.”
“Bon appétit. —Thanks for the meal.”
We sat across from each other, joined our hands briefly, and started eating.
For a while, we focused on the food. I had things I wanted to discuss, but the cafeteria was even busier than I’d expected—not exactly the best place for a long chat.
Kimiya must’ve felt the same. Placing her miso soup bowl down with a wry smile,
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!
