At the request of this self-proclaimed fairy who refused to lift a finger, I pushed open the door labeled Second Literature Club – First Clubroom.
The moment I did, the sight of a cluttered room—and one girl sitting inside—greeted me.
“…………”
“————”
The girl inside froze, staring at me with a what the hell? expression.
Can’t blame her—some random guy just walked in carrying a person. As for the fairy on my back?
“I’m home, Mina!”
She waved cheerfully at the girl inside.
A beat of silence. Then, the addressed girl quietly lowered her gaze.
Just as quickly, she looked up again and reached for something on the table.
A sketchbook. She flipped it open to a blank page, grabbed a nearby pen, and wrote something down.
Then, she turned the page toward us.
[Welcome back, Isa.]
……Why doesn’t she just say it…?
Of course, I wondered, but prying might not be wise.
Guess today’s just Meet the Weirdos day. I’ll roll with it.
——The girl waiting inside gave off a far calmer vibe than the fairy on my back.
Pale, short-cut hair and deep, night-like blue-black eyes stood out the most. She didn’t emote much—more like the quiet librarian type.
Scritch-scratch went the pen as she wrote again.
[Did you find anything?]
Unfazed by the text-based conversation, the fairy on my back grinned.
“Ahaha, sooorry~ I tried my best, but I couldn’t even make it out of the club building.”
The sketchbook girl fixed the giggling fairy with a damp, unamused stare.
After wrestling with my options, I decided to ask the fairy directly.
“……A friend of yours?”
“Yep! She lost a game, so she got stuck with the penalty—going out to buy stuff.”
Yet here she was, empty-handed, getting carried back by a stranger (me).
No wonder the waiting girl was shocked.
As I pondered this, the fairy—still piggybacking—chimed in:
“She’s a little weird, right?”
(Pretty sure she wouldn’t want you calling her that.)
Reacting to the fairy’s words, the sketchbook girl scribbled again.
This time, a symbol:
[×]
“……She says ‘wrong.’ Seems unhappy about something.”
“Nah, nah. You’re misreading. That’s not what it means.”
“Oh… Then what does it mean?”
“‘Do multiplication!’ Obviously!”
“Seriously? That makes zero sense contextually!”
The pen moved again:
[○]
“So… it was right? She actually meant ‘do multiplication’?”
“Told you, no.”
“Then what!?”
“It’s ‘zero points.’ Gotta read between the lines!”
“If you missed her point, then you’re the one who just got zero!”
“Ahahaha! You’re good at comebacks, aren’tcha?”
The fairy cackled on my back.
Meanwhile, the sketchbook girl suddenly threw her book aside.
“True. You’re funny. Isa, you brought us a gem.”
“Right?! A stellar new recruit!”
“Pretty sure you’re the one who got ‘recruited’ here.”
“Yeah, fair!”
“More importantly, Isa, I did want drinks…”
They bantered cheerfully.
(…Wait, she can talk normally? Then what was the sketchbook bit about?!)
As I stood there dry-smiling, the girl sighed.
“Sigh… Betting Isa to run errands was pointless. How do you forget your task mid-trip and come back like this?”
“I remembered!”
“If you’d pretended to forget, I might’ve forgiven you. But remembering and still failing? Unacceptable.”
“Cut me slack—I ran out of stamina! Blame this guy hero-kun if you’re mad!”
“……‘hero-kun’?”
Her gaze slid to me.
Between “butler-kun,” “hero-kun,” and now this, today’s been a parade of weird nicknames. ( Shadow Guy was another.)
I mustered a smile.
“Uh… hi?”
“Hi. Did Isa catch you?”
Assuming “Isa” was the fairy’s name, I nodded.
“We kinda bumped into each other. She asked for a ride to the clubroom. Hence… this.”
“Huh… And you just did it? You’re odd, Kageyuki-san.”
“……Says the girl with the sketchbook gimmick.”
“First impressions matter! I was going for ‘mute character.’”
(And you call me weird?)
The fairy was right—both were oddballs. But more pressingly—
“—You knew my name?”
She’d used my surname.
The girl— Mina ?—nodded casually.
“Obviously. You’re the infamous transfer student. Heard plenty of rumors.”
“Ah… Right. That tracks.”
“Otherwise, even Isa wouldn’t make a stranger carry her. …Right?”
“—Fufufu.”
The fairy’s sly giggle answered.
“…So you knew me too?”
“Nope! But there’s only one student here I don’t know.”
“Wow… Memorized every student in Seishinkan? Impressive.”
At least I had some closure.
My notoriety had lowered their guard.
“Ah, but the piggyback wasn’t about that.”
The fairy cheerfully torpedoed my theory.
“…Then why ?”
“To plaster your fingerprints and clothing fibers all over my uniform, duh.”
“……………………”
“Can’t let a ‘we bumped’ slip-up go unweaponized. Gotta stack the legal deck early~”
“Get. Off. Now.”
“Pfft! It’s joke!”
She laughed off what was clearly a threat.
Not a fairy—a straight-up yokai.
(…Honestly? I respect the caution. Her breezy attitude had seemed off, but if she’d planned this, it’s almost reassuring.)
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“My condolences,”
“Mina” murmured flatly.
“Don’t just end it there.”
“Isa’s the type who can’t relax without leverage. Standard for her.”
“That’s not standard.”
“Bad luck, getting tangled with her. Japan’s courts are competent, though.”
“If this goes to trial, I’d love your testimony.”
“Nah. Too much wo—I mean, I’d never betray a friend.”
“Your mask slipped just now.”
“Too lazy. Pass.”
“That’s worse than being honest—”
Mina’s demeanor stayed deadpan.
The only expression she’d shown was when I’d first entered.
“—Hup!”
Finally, the yokai dismounted.
The weight off my shoulders was literal and metaphorical.
“Whew. Thanks for the ride!”
“Yeah… Unique experience, for sure.”
“Definitely. First time being carried since I was tiny.”
“Glad this isn’t a habit for you.”
“Fufu. You’re my first~”
“Phrase it better.”
“Ahahaha!”
Still giggling, she added:
“…Though honestly? Your back’s not comfy. Won’t do that again.”
“You made me carry you—”
“Ugh, I kinda feel sick now. Dizzy…”
“You’re this frail!?”
“…Back-ache.”
“That’s like carsickness! Sorry, I guess!?”
Her earlier whining about her butt hurting might’ve been genuine.
Exhausting fairy. (Yokai, whatever. Why am I still using these terms?*)
“What’s your name? “
I scratched my head.
“Hm?”
“Y’know. Your name. You know mine—what’s yours?”
“Ahaha, right! Guess I didn’t say.”
A pause.
Then the frail fairy—still nibbling her lunch pack—spoke:
“—I’m Isago Natsuki.”
“……………………”
I’d never been this stunned by an introduction.
“Class 1-F. Also president of this Second Literature Club… Something wrong?”
“—Uh, n-no! Just… ‘Isa’ from ‘Isago,’ right? Makes sense…”
I lied. The given name was what froze me.
Her too? Another Natsuki?
I felt my face pale. Noticing, Isago continued:
“Well, she’s the only one who calls me ‘Isa.’”
“Huh? What?”
“Our given names are the same. ‘Isa’ avoids confusion.”
“────────────────”
My gaze snapped to the other girl—Mina. I’d assumed that was her given name.
This coincidence was too much.
She picked up her sketchbook and wrote:
[水瀬懐姫]
She wrote down her name in kanji characters, showed it to me, and said
“Reads ‘Minase Natsuki.’ Class D. Nice to meet you, Kageyuki-san.”
“…Nice to… meet you…”
I reply. After all this time, I’m starting to feel a little out of it.
At this point, the absurdity looped back to numbness.
Four Natsukis in one grade—Kimiya included—was too statistically wasteful . Sure, it’s not a rare name, but— why this one ?
The sound was a trigger, yanking up memories I’d buried.
As a kid, even hearing Natsuki on TV made my stomach twist. I’d thought I’d moved on.
Turns out I hadn’t.
My gut twisted like rusted gears. I forced logic: It’s psychological. Ancient history. Forget it.
“Kageyuki-san? You look… unwell.”
“Ah—no, I’m—”
Before I knew it, the girl who introduced herself as Minase was tilting her head and peering into my face.
I shook my head. Whatever her name might be, it wasn’t like it was their fault.
“──Anyway, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading out.”
I managed to say just that before turning on my heel to leave the Second Literature Club room.
“Come back again sometime~”
A lighthearted voice from Isago echoed behind me.
If she says that, maybe I really should come again.
As long as I don’t think about their names too much, I’m genuinely happy to have made some new friends.
I went back down to the first floor, collected the cleaning tools, and headed for my original destination: the Drama Club room.
Using the key I’d borrowed from the staff room, I unlocked the door and went inside.
It had taken a bit of time, but at a glance, the room wasn’t as messy as I’d feared. It just looked unused more than anything. At this rate, I figured half an hour would be enough.
Needless to say—
The job I’d taken on this time was cleaning the Drama Club’s room.
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