Episode 1: [The Butler of Seishinkan]
0/D
—All human relationships should fundamentally be transactional.
This was the creed I carried into high school—and as Kageyuki Sou, a man who firmly believed it, I never imagined things would turn out like this a mere month after enrollment.
The root of it all traces back to the second “Natsuki” I met right after starting school. But to cut to the chase: thanks to her, I’ve secured my place in this new life.
Take after-school hours, for example.
“Agh—! I’m on duty today?! Ugh, slipped my mind…!”
If a voice like that rings across the classroom, it’s a business opportunity you can’t afford to miss. Lady Luck’s forelock remains gloriously lustrous today.
My head snaps up. At the edge of the noisy classroom, the girl who just shouted—Inuzuka, a classmate—clutches her head in distress.
Beside her stands another girl.
“…Did you forget, Inuzuka-san?”
Inuzuka shakes her head vigorously, still wearing that troubled look.
“N-No, I didn’t forget! It’s just… uh…!”
“…Just?”
“I kinda promised a senpai I’d help with club stuff… said I had time…!”
“So you must leave early.”
“…Auu. What do I do? If I clean the classroom now, I’ll never make it…!”
Her voice whimpers like a rain-soaked puppy.
Inuzuka’s the lively, approachable type—bright in personality and appearance, exuding small-animal charm that lives up to her name (literally “Dog Mound”).
She was among the first to greet me, the new transfer, making her one of my most endearing classmates.
“Mmm, if only I could rush through this…!”
Duty involves not just cleaning but also filling out the class log, which eats up time.
Normally, two people split the work, but today, Endō—Inuzuka’s assigned partner—left early due to family reasons.
Inuzuka isn’t one to cut corners (or rather, can’t). If she waits for chatty classmates to clear out, cleaning will drag on forever.
So, a simple question:
How does one make friends—or deepen existing bonds?
The answer’s straightforward:
Prove your usefulness. Demonstrate you’re worthy of being called a friend.
Time to pitch my services.
“Rough day, Inuzuka?”
I call out casually while rising from my seat.
Like a flower blooming, Inuzuka flashes an adorable grin. Her genuine reactions are downright puppy-like—fitting for her name.
“Oh, hey, Kageyuki! Wiii—!”
She waves cheerfully, and I mirror her “Wiii—” (sync achieved?).
She giggles before continuing.
“Got another gig today?”
I nod.
“A small one, but it’s light. Killing time till then, really.”
“Wow. You’re such a hard worker, volunteering like that.”
“Am I?”
“Totally! Hey, wanna help with duty today?”
—Having an established “character” is convenient.
No need to self-promote when requests come to you. In that sense, starting this “job” was a masterstroke.
If Kageyuki Sou is known as “the guy who helps if asked,” maneuvering becomes effortless.
That said, I don’t leap at every chance. Working for free would mean zero progress since middle school. —Once terms are set, payment is non-negotiable.
Feigning sudden recollection, I add:
“Ah, right. Endō left early today.”
“Yeeep! So I’m stuck solo. This sucks!”
“Got it. I’ll handle cleaning.”
“Huh?!”
Her eyes widen comically in surprise at my words. I laugh a little.
“You asked, yet you’re shocked?”
“W-Well, yeah, but… really?!”
“You’re on for the log, but cleaning’s fine. Fills time anyway.”
“Seriously?! Lifesaver! I’ve got club stuff, and the log can wait till later… Wait, really okay?”
She peers up guiltily.
I don’t hate cleaning. Nor do I love it, but mindless tasks are relaxing. I grin playfully.
“Not for free, though. Payment’s due—still good?”
“Ugh. So this is a sales pitch… How much?”
“Eh, a canned juice’ll do.”
“Hah? That’s all?”
“If I write the log too, coffee at a café.”
“Ahaha! Was that a roundabout date invite?”
“Nah, I’m just saying it as a normal work reward. Writing logs in girly handwriting seems like a hassle. Since Endou left early, having a guy’s handwriting would look weird.”
“You’d go that far for a log…? Well, if it’s just juice, I don’t mind at all.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
As I said that, I headed to the back of the classroom to grab the vacuum cleaner.
“Sorry, and thanks, Kageyuki! I’m in a hurry, so I’ll get going—”
“No problem. As for the payment, just pay me back whenever you remember.”
“I won’t forget! I’ll treat you properly! See you tomorrow!”
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Waving her hand, Inuzuka hurried off. Watching her leave out of the corner of my eye, I picked up the vacuum cleaner.
Then, one of my male classmates, who had been watching our exchange, spoke up as he was about to leave the classroom.
“Hey, Kageyuki. I’m on duty tomorrow—wanna swap?”
“Sure. Let’s settle it for one meal at the cafeteria.”
“Whoa! That’s a different price than before! What, you playing favorites with girls, Kageyuki?”
“The motives are different. I charge more from slackers who just wanna skip cleaning.”
“Hahaha, fair enough! Later, Kageyuki—good work today.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow. —Alright, the rest of you, clear out. Time to clean.”
As I saw off my classmates trickling out, I turned on the vacuum cleaner.
From then on, I just silently focused on the task.
It had been about a month since enrollment. By now, I felt like I’d gotten pretty comfortable with my classmates. Compared to what I’d imagined before starting school, blending in had gone much smoother—I’d been lucky.
After all, everyone else had known each other since middle school. The reason I’d managed to break into that circle—as the only external exam student in the grade—was likely because I’d established myself as someone who willingly took on tasks, just like now. Well, more accurately, I sold my services.
Even back in middle school, I’d often taken over other people’s work.
The key difference now was that I’d started deliberately demanding compensation.
Or rather, I’d begun explicitly framing it as work and marketing it as such.
And the reason for that was—
“—Good work, Sou-san. Another job well done, I see.”
A calm, exceedingly polite voice reached me as I continued cleaning.
A lone girl had approached me, remaining in the classroom after the others had left.
“Yeah, thanks. …Were you aiming for this from the start?”
I asked the girl who had been talking with Inuzuka earlier.
She smiled, answering with the same graceful, composed demeanor she always had.
“Just a coincidence. Inuzuka seemed busy, so I only asked why.”
“Really? Considering this work started because of what you told me, Kimiya, sometimes I wonder if you can see the future.”
“That’s overestimating me. Though I’m flattered you’d say that, Sou-san—”
For a brief moment,
the girl from my class let her smile shift into something slightly more mischievous.
“But you did rely a little too much on luck this time. Inuzuka was the one who brought it up, mostly.”
That seemed to be her evaluation of my earlier sales pitch.
“Harsh… Well, I can’t deny it.”
“You pretended not to remember that Endou-kun left early, but that part was unnecessary. Your character is already well-established—you could’ve just led with that from the start. I’d say you overthought it, just a bit.”
“…I’ll keep that in mind next time, Kimiya. Thanks.”
A critique on how I handled myself in the classroom.
Whether this conversation was typical for high schoolers was highly debatable.
—Her full name was Kimiya Natsuki.
A terrifyingly wealthy, terrifyingly sharp, terrifyingly athletic—flawless in every conceivable way, a terrifyingly perfect beauty.
For me, the first person I spoke to at Seishinkan Academy was Shiranui Natsuki, but the first one I grew close to was Kimiya Natsuki. That fact alone had pretty much defined my current position.
“Still,”
Kimiya murmured, lowering her gaze slightly.
Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper—as if sharing a secret right by my ear.
“You still won’t call me by my first name, will you?”
“…………”
“You could try, you know? Just my first name—Natsuki—”
“…Too embarrassing. I’ll pass.”
After a moment of thought, I speak.
From our very first meeting, Kimiya had asked me to call her by her first name—Natsuki—but I kept dodging the request with vague excuses. The truth was, calling her “Natsuki” felt uncomfortable, but I couldn’t bring myself to say that outright.
Sure enough, Kimiya’s shoulders slumped slightly as she sighed.
“”—What a shame. Well, I’ll let it slide for now.”
She said it with the same unchanging smile.
I had no words left to say.
Keeping relationships businesslike—transactional.
That was, for the time being, my biggest principle for high school life.
Calculated. Strategic. Engaging with others strictly based on mutual contracts, for my own benefit.
It wasn’t that I wanted to be liked or gain something from people.
I simply believed it was the most sincere and honest way to coexist with others.
And Kimiya Natsuki was a girl who perfectly embodied that philosophy.
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