Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

Due to its location in a remote corner of the top floor, the activity room’s environment was quiet and peaceful. Outside the window was the school field, obscured by the dense foliage of the surrounding trees. The furnishings and arrangement of items in the activity room were somewhat disorganized, yet clean and dust-free, indicating someone frequently used the place.

…And likely, only one person.

The Novelist noticed that on a nearby desk, there was only a single cup and saucer set prepared. Not even extras for guests or teachers…

The Novelist placed his bag at the doorway, said “Excuse the intrusion,” and walked into the activity room, ignoring the female student trapped beneath a pile of books, her faint calls for help, and the hand extending from the book pile as he observed the interior environment.

Books, bookcases, a kettle and cups, tables and chairs, cleaning supplies. He didn’t discover any suspicious items or hidden dangers.

“…How mean.”

After a moment of silence, the girl pinned under the mountain of books grumbled.

“If you want someone to help you, you’d better be polite about it.”

“I’m sorry, please forgive me. Please help me; I don’t have the strength to move these books. If this continues, I might suffocate and die, you know.”

…Her attitude changed so quickly.

The Novelist sighed, hesitated for a moment, but eventually reached out and grasped the girl’s cold, soft hand.

The reason he had ignored her wasn’t because his personality was particularly cruel… though perhaps that was part of it. But fundamentally, it was because he sensed an unusual atmosphere around this girl he’d never met before.

Simply put, although he hadn’t clearly seen her appearance, she was undoubtedly a strange person.

He pulled firmly, extracting her from the pile of books. At the same time, he removed the books from on top of her, preventing them from falling and injuring her.

The girl wearing a school uniform sat in the center of the scattered books, covering her mouth with her hand as she listlessly yawned. Judging by the color of her ribbon, she should be a third-year senpai.

The girl had long black hair, which looked even longer than Yayoi’s, excessively so—at least long enough to cover below her skirt hem, to the point where it seemed it would interfere with her movements. Earlier, it had been difficult to tell which was her front and which was her back, as her face was hidden beneath her long hair.

If she had appeared before him normally, rather than being pitifully trapped under a pile of books, she might have truly frightened him… because this appearance strongly resembled the female ghosts commonly seen in horror films.

Moreover, unlike Yayoi’s glossy, pleasant-to-touch, sleek black straight hair, this girl’s hair had rough, split ends, suggesting it hadn’t received careful maintenance from its owner.

“Perhaps she grew it so long because she couldn’t be bothered to cut it”—she gave off an impression that would inevitably lead to such thoughts, a woman who left an impression of listlessness.

“…Hello.”

She seemed to muster a bit more energy and expressed her gratitude to the Novelist. During this process, the girl glanced at his clothes.

“…I see. You’re a second-year. Thank you for your help, kouhai-kun.”

As she spoke, the girl braced one hand against the bookcase, struggling to wobblingly stand up. Her condition made one worry whether she might fall—

“Thud!”

…She fell.

Tripped by the books at her feet, the girl landed face-first on the floor in what looked like a painful position.

“Ow—!”

Her previously listless, composed demeanor vanished without a trace. She clutched her face and rolled around on the floor. Then she crashed headfirst into the doorframe.

“Nnnghh—!”

A short, sharp cry escaped her throat. Due to the extreme pain, she choked back her scream, instinctively holding her breath.

Wow, that must really hurt; just watching was painful. Seeing her writhing silently on the floor made it clear how much it hurt—definitely the kind of pain one would absolutely not want to experience.

…Poor thing.

The Novelist looked down at her with a pitying gaze.

But standing by and doing nothing didn’t seem right. She was senpai, after all.

“Um, well…”

“It hurts… it hurts…”

“Do you… need help?”

“…”

There was silence for about ten seconds.

Senpai seemed to finally catch her breath; her chest, which had been heaving from deep breathing, gradually calmed down. She lowered the hand covering her face. Since she was lying on her back, gaps in her hair revealed a pale face that looked as though it rarely saw sunlight.

Beneath her black uniform were slender limbs, a thin waist, and what appeared to be a fairly full chest. She had a small face with regular features and fair skin. If not for her brows conveying a spiritless attitude and her drowsy, half-closed eyes matching this lack of energy, she would be a beauty who could easily make a good first impression.

As things stood, she was a mysterious presence difficult to approach or interact with.

“…Thank you.”

Though she was expressing gratitude, her tone lacked any trace of sincerity. She slowly sat up, then her fingers touched the bag the Novelist had placed behind her.

“This is…?”

A questioning look from beneath her bangs.

“It’s a gym bag I normally use for clothes.”

He answered truthfully.

“I see, perfect—”

Senpai nodded.

This natural attitude and phrasing gave the Novelist a somewhat ominous premonition.

“There should be towels inside. You don’t mind if I borrow one, right? Kouhai-kun.”

“Wait, wait a moment! That’s not mine—”

Before the Novelist could finish, she had already pulled open the gym bag’s zipper.

“Ah…”

Her movement froze midair.

Obviously, she discovered that the clothes stored in the bag weren’t boys’ gym clothes, but rather a girl’s form-fitting leotard. Of course, it was Misao’s bag.

“Kouhai-kun… are you a pervert?”

“No, I’m not.”

“That’s exactly what a pervert would say.”

Senpai’s movements hesitated for a few seconds, then she took out Misao’s leotard and held it near her nose, taking a sniff.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?!”

That’s something I haven’t even used—no, that’s Misao’s personal item! Even for another girl, doing something like this is too strange!

“Hmm… there’s a slight smell of sweat. It seems it was used just today.”

She spoke like a hound with a keen sense of smell.

Senpai put the leotard back in the bag.

She silently tilted her head, as if thinking about something. The Novelist felt quite tense, like a criminal in court awaiting the verdict.

“I’ve decided. The defendant is sentenced to death.”

“That’s too hasty!”

“You’re right. Well, let’s call the police first—”

“I told you to wait a minute!”