Hiroto Tachibana didn’t linger in the cafeteria.
Paying off his debt was his most urgent priority right now.
He stuffed the key Shizuka Hiratsuka had given him into his pants pocket, picked up his meal tray, stood up, and left.
Still caught in a chaotic daze, Marin Kitagawa was in the middle of her incoherent explanation when she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye.
The seat was empty.
Hiroto was gone.
Her words came to an abrupt halt.
He just…
left?
Marin felt that empty, hollow sensation wash over her once again.
It felt as if a small piece of her chest had been gently scooped away; it wasn’t exactly painful, but it was profoundly uncomfortable.
It felt as though she couldn’t grasp onto anything at all.
That evening, Hiroto treated himself to a hefty meal at Shizuka Hiratsuka’s expense.
After eating, the two arrived at a barber shop.
A buzz cut was naturally out of the question.
He didn’t care much about the hairstyle anyway, as long as it looked conventional and mainstream.
”Let’s go with this one,” Hiroto pointed at a reference picture on the wall.
The barber nodded and began to move his scissors.
As Hiroto sat in the chair, Hiratsuka kept him company from behind, chatting casually.
”By the way, Hiroto, do you still have time to participate in the school trip at the end of next month?”
”School trip?” Hiroto glanced at her through the mirror.
“Aren’t we just freshmen?”
”The policy from above changed; it’ll happen every year from now on,” Hiratsuka flicked her cigarette ash.
”As you know, the only two nations left in the world now are the Eastern Mainland and the United States.
To better promote cultural integration and exchange, our trips will be taking us outside Sakura Province.”
”We’re going out of the province?” Hiroto furrowed his brow.
“That’s going to cost a significant amount of funds.”
”Yeah,” Hiratsuka nodded.
“Only universities ranked within the top ten thousand nationwide get this opportunity.”
”Alright, I’ll think about it.
What’s the destination?”
”The school administration is still deliberating internally,” Hiratsuka lowered her voice.
“This is inside information I’m leaking to you.”
”Well, thank you for leaking it to me then,” Hiroto’s tone remained perfectly flat.
Hiratsuka chuckled and fell silent.
Hiroto began to calculate the timeline in his head.
The end of next month?
He estimated that his 5-million-yen debt would be entirely paid off by the beginning of next month.
Immediately after that, it would still be in time to release the highest-quality light novel in his arsenal.
However, he needed to scope out a new publishing house in advance.
A new day, Friday, approaching the weekend.
Ever since that bizarre room incident, Hiroto made it a habit to carry two compressed emergency rations with him.
They didn’t take up any space and were incredibly filling.
After all, he had no idea if that mysterious room would manifest again, or if it would swap out the participants.
Sobu High, Second-Year Classroom.
Kasumigaoka Utaha sat in her seat, restlessly bouncing her leg in agitation.
Every time her phone buzzed, she checked it immediately, only to find it was never the message she wanted.
It had been at least four or five days since she messaged that author, “The Swift Blade,” hadn’t it?
Why hadn’t there been a single shred of a response?
Besides, she had reached out through official editorial channels; the least he could do was reply with a polite acknowledgment, right?
Did he simply look down on her completely?
The moment she thought of this, the frequency of her leg bouncing quickened, causing the chair leg to make a faint click-clack sound against the floor.
Ding-dong.
Another new message arrived on her phone.
She picked it up to take a look.
”Senpai, it will definitely work out this time!
I’ve already organized the plot details!”
Utaha cast only a single glance at the screen before putting her phone face down.
She had already given Aki Tomoya countless opportunities.
Yet what did the other party bring to the table?
A chaotic mess of random concepts, and the final ‘organized plot’ didn’t even exceed twenty or thirty words.
Her patience was truly on the verge of being utterly exhausted.
Thinking back to how she had stayed up late into the night rushing her manuscript, a wave of profound exhaustion suddenly washed over her.
Utaha simply folded her arms on the desk, buried her face in them, and closed her eyes to sleep.
The teacher on the podium glanced over but had no intention of waking her up.
Such was the privilege of an exemplary student who ranked first in the entire grade.
Meanwhile, in the First-Year International Culture Class.
The moment Hiroto stepped into the classroom, he was greeted by an overwhelming barrage of staring eyes.
It was even more intense than when he walked in yesterday.
Even so, no one stepped forward to strike up a conversation.
Hiroto scanned the class schedule and saw that the upcoming period wasn’t a core academic subject.
He stuffed his phone straight into his pocket, stood up with large strides, and walked out through the back door.
Arriving at the entrance of the clubroom, he pulled out his key, inserted it into the lock, and gave it a gentle turn.
Click.
The door opened.
This room had originally been a standard classroom, but it had now been repurposed into a clubroom.
The desks and chairs were neatly stacked in layers toward the back, leaving a vast open space in the front.
The blackboard remained on the wall, its edges bearing faint traces of chalk dust.
Hiroto pulled out a set of a desk and a chair from the stacked pile, moving them to a corner right next to the window.
Then, he pulled out his phone, opened his document, and began typing.
If nothing else, this place was peaceful, quiet, and blessed with a gentle sea breeze.
At this rate, the speed at which he could pay off his debt might even be accelerated.
Time flew by.
At noon, he, Hiratsuka-sensei, and Yukinoshita went to the cafeteria to grab another free meal, which went without any notable incidents.
In the afternoon, he returned to the clubroom and buried his head back into his typing.
When he finally lifted his head to stretch his stiff neck, he noticed that Yukinoshita had set up her own desk and chair at some unknown point, sitting squarely in the dead center of the room.
A book lay open before Yukinoshita Yukino, her expression deeply focused.
The sunlight slanted in through the window, appearing to coat her in a faintly sacred aura.
”School’s over?” Hiroto asked.
”Yes,” Yukinoshita replied without lifting her eyes.
Hiroto stretched his arms, his joints emitting a few crisp popping sounds.
After writing for an entire day, he felt as though his entire being was on the verge of being squeezed dry.
”What a thoroughly exhausting yet fulfilling writing session,” he muttered to himself.
Yukinoshita ignored him.
Knock, knock.
The door to the Service Club was rapped at that moment.
Both of them turned their eyes toward the entrance simultaneously.
”Come in,” Yukinoshita’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was distinct.
The door was pulled open.
Stepping inside was a red-haired girl.
Her steps were light, her smile radiant, and her entire presence exuded a bright, sunlit aura.
One glance was enough to tell she was the incredibly popular type in her class.
Ikuyo Kita stood at the entrance, her gaze sweeping across the room.
She spotted Yukinoshita Yukino first, before locking her eyes onto Hiroto Tachibana sitting in the corner.
”Is this the Service Club?” Kita asked, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.
”I heard from Hiratsuka-sensei that this is a club meant for helping people…
so I came.”
Yukinoshita looked at her.
She memorized the names of every student in the school, recognizing the newcomer with a single glance.
”Kita-san,” Yukinoshita stood up, pulling out a chair from the side.
“Sit down first.”
”Ah, right, thank you!”
Ikuyo Kita nodded, walking over to take a seat.
Yukinoshita returned to her own chair.
”Now then,” her gaze landed on Ikuyo Kita.
“What kind of assistance do you require, Kita-san?”
Add it to the library!!
Like it??
Add it to the library!!
Like it??
Add it to the library!!