Jaku chara tomozaki kun chapter 3

3
Once you start speedrunning the minigames, you seriously can’t stop
“Anyway, guys, I mentioned this before, but applications for student council candidates are due today. So get those in if you wanna run. The election is…um, this Friday, looks like. You can give the forms to me, put them in the box outside the teacher’s lounge, or give them to the class election officer… And that’s about it. Okay, everyone, stand up.”

In her usual listless tone, Ms. Kawamura wrapped up her explanation. Well, well. The deadline she’d mentioned last week—for the application Hinami had picked up—was already here.

Homeroom ended, and the short break before first period began. Hinami brought a piece of paper up to Ms. Kawamura. Huh, guess she’s running. The question was, who was she planning to have as her campaign manager? She sure hadn’t mentioned anything to me, and I’d had too much on my mind to ask her. I had a feeling it might be me, but at the same time, I had a bad feeling about this whole thing.

When the other kids saw her hand in the paper, they sent a volley of encouraging shouts her way.

“Leave it to Aoi!”

“You’ve got my vote!”

“Ease up the school rules!”

“You’ll win for sure!”

She was the most popular person in school. The kids in other classes would have already guessed she would run, and it seemed unlikely anyone would dare to go up against her. Plus, they probably wanted to leave everything in her capable hands. In one sense, her victory was all but assured.

And just as I was thinking that, something surprising happened.

“Here’s mine!”

The lighthearted, casual voice belonged to—Mimimi.

I couldn’t see what was written on the paper she handed to the teacher, but it was the same size as the one Hinami had turned in.

“Oh, so you’re running, too, Mimimi? That’s the kind of enthusiasm I like to see from our class!”

Mimimi had just turned in her application to run for student council president. At Ms. Kawamura’s comment, all eyes turned to Mimimi.

“Wow, Mimimi’s running, too!”

“I’m for her!”

“She’s got my vote!”

“So brave!”

Needless to say, the response was positive, since Mimimi was popular, too, and she got plenty of warm comments herself. Of course, the one about being brave no doubt referred to the fact that she’d be running against Hinami.

As everyone focused on Mimimi, I instinctively turned toward Hinami. Her expression hadn’t changed much, but I could detect pure surprise.

“So it’s Aoi versus Mimimi!”

“This’ll be a good fight!”

“Wonder who’ll win!”

The class was abuzz with speculation. I wasn’t sure if those last two were genuine or just meant to encourage Mimimi, but I had a hard time imagining Hinami losing. On the other hand, Mimimi was just as good as Hinami when it came to communication. Her grades were high, too, and she was good at sports. Maybe, just maybe, if Mimimi devoted herself to the election while Hinami was busy with other things…

“Damn! I can’t believe Mimimi’s running! This sucks!” Hinami complained—a little rude and overly honest.

“If we’re fighting over grades, I’m gonna win!”

The class laughed even more at Mimimi’s outspoken comeback and went on talking happily about the election.

* * *

During the break before fourth period, I went to the library, as I always did.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Her whispered greeting made me think of the rustling of an enormous, magical tree that covered the whole world with its branches. After I said hello back, the reading party began. As we sat side by side reading our respective books, just like we had the previous week, Kikuchi-san suddenly started talking to me.

“It looks like trouble is brewing… Don’t you think?”

“Huh? Trouble?”

“You know, the student council election…”

Darkness had fallen on the forest of Kikuchi-san’s eyes as she turned toward me while she spoke. What was the matter?

“Nanami-san is running, right? I just can’t understand why…”

This was a surprising topic.

“I mean, she was joking about it. Like that thing about grades…”

“Yes, but…I don’t think that’s it.”

Kikuchi-san slowly shook her head. Her downcast eyes looked like crescent moons, making me think of a mysterious night sky.

“You’re probably right. Maybe she wants to change the school or change herself or something like that.”

“I wonder…”

Kikuchi-san raised a long, pale finger—I could totally see a little bird coming to perch on it if she just held it out awhile—and softly stroked her cheek. She seemed lost in thought. She’d been slipping into more casual conversation with me, and those moments of openness helped me relax.

“Then again, I’d like to change myself as well…so I can see where she’s coming from.”

“Really? What do you want to change?” I asked casually.

“…Um, it’s a s-secret!”

“Ah.”

I glanced over at her. Behind the soft, beautiful, mysterious veil of her hair, I could glimpse her pink cheeks, as lovely as the forbidden fruit eaten by Adam and Eve. I gulped. Um, what would Kikuchi-san want to change?

“…A-are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine. It’s…nothing.”

I could hear something faintly sensual coming from her direction as her shoulders, as delicate as finely wrought glasswork, heaved up and down. When she looked up after a few moments, her moist eyes were quivering like the surface of a miraculous spring that shimmers with all the colors of the rainbow, but only once a year. If I moved even an inch closer, I was sure I would tumble right into them.

“Um, okay.”

“…Okay.”

Whatever this was between us, just me and Kikuchi-san and Kikuchi-san’s mystified expression, was unusual. Time flowed so slowly, I could have watched each grain of sand falling through an hourglass, if I had one.

“Well, anyway…!”

Kikuchi-san was the first to free herself from the string of time tied to our waists. She picked up her book in a hurry and trotted out of the library.

“Huh.”

Now that I was alone in the suddenly ordinary corner of the library, I figured I might as well keep reading my book. But what could her secret be? What did she want to change? What was with this girl and her enchanting ways?!

* * *

It was lunch break.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Huh…? Hinami?”

“Come over here.”

She didn’t meet my eyes the whole way to the old school building. I figured we were headed for Sewing Room #2. It was unusual for Hinami to talk to me without playing up her persona, aside from at our meetings before and after school.

Taking care not to be noticed, I followed her at a distance. Yup, we were headed to Sewing Room #2.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have an emergency mission.”

Hinami perched lightly on one of the desks. To make matters worse, her short skirt rode up a little, drawing my eyes to her pretty, toned legs.

“What?”

“But first, the practical stuff. During the campaign period for student council, I’ll need to cut back on our meetings.”

“Oh, okay. Bet you’re gonna be busy.”

The thing was, she’d known about the election for a long time, and it wasn’t like her to make such a big deal about telling me. Must be because she didn’t expect Mimimi to run.

“On the same topic, do you know what being campaign manager involves?”

H-here we go. “Um, I have a general idea. You give a speech and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s a general support role.”

If she’s bringing this topic up right now, that must mean… The ominous feeling returned.

“But you already wrote the person you want for the job on that paper you turned in, right?”

“Yes, but the deadline for changing that person is tomorrow morning, actually.”

“R-really…? So I was right.”

She wanted me, the bottom-tier character, to play that critical role. Her Spartan methods had reached their peak.

“I’m not done yet. I was planning to get you to do it…but I changed my mind.”

“Huh? You did?”

“I figured I’d be the only one running, so there wasn’t any pressure, and it’d be a perfect training opportunity for you. After all, you’ve been practicing hard to improve your tone, and speaking your mind is your strength, right? So I decided you could handle it.”

“Well, I could probably scrape by when it comes to that, at least.”

She’d told me before that speaking my mind was my weapon. Plus, I felt like all my practice with tone was starting to pay off.

“I figured I’d write your name down without asking and then tell you afterward, but…”

“Why the surprise tactic?” Not much of a riddle—the answer is pure, terrifying sadism.

“But now that Mimimi is running, things have changed.”

“…Oh, that’s what you’re getting at.”

If she was the only candidate, it didn’t matter if someone backed her up or not, so she’d planned to make the executive decision of giving me the job for training purposes. But now Mimimi was running. And since Mimimi was a fairly formidable opponent, it would be a mistake to leave such an important role to me.

“Yes. I think it would be better training for you to be Mimimi’s manager instead of mine.”

“Right… Wait, what?!” I yelped at this unexpected announcement.

“Quiet. This way, you’ll still be getting some training.”

“It’s not that… You’re saying since Mimimi is your opponent, instead of giving up on the idea altogether, I should work for her?”

“Right.”

“Wait a second; back up. That’ll be even harder. I don’t know if she’ll say yes, and she’s running against you! I’m not exactly a secret weapon, especially not against such a strong opponent. Seems to me you’d level the playing field if you gave yourself a handicap by taking me for yourself.”

Her face remained neutral as she listened to my argument. “Shall I put it like this?”

“Huh?”

She spoke slowly, indicating that this was important. “If you’re my manager and I happen to lose, you’ll be blamed for everything.”

“…Oh.”

I had to agree. No one thought Hinami would lose. If she did, it would be considered an anomaly. People would start asking why, and the majority of them would conclude that the creepy weirdo who managed her campaign was to blame. Even I could easily imagine that happening. And if it did, I’d become infamous throughout the entire school.

“Of course, I would never lose unless I wanted to. Plus, joining Mimimi’s team will give you more chances to talk to her, and that’ll be good conversation practice. It’s perfect really; if you wanna steal conversational tactics from anyone, it’s Mimimi.”

“…I can see your point, but what if I get blamed for Mimimi’s loss?”

Hinami stared at me blankly and blinked a number of times. Then, seeming to realize something, she answered.

“I like Mimimi, and there’s a lot I respect about her. She’s an important person in my life. But.”

“But…”

Hinami’s expression didn’t change a hair. She spoke her next words as if they were entirely obvious.

“She can’t beat me.”

The statement was delivered with utter finality. A chill went down my spine.

“O-oh.”

“So it doesn’t matter who her manager is.”

I know how hard she works behind the scenes, so I couldn’t very well argue back.

“But never mind all that. Point is, you join Mimimi’s team to practice conversation. I never imagined Mimimi would run, but this is a great opportunity for you.”

“Oh. So that’s what you’re after.”

From that perspective, being Mimimi’s manager might be a good idea after all.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Since the deadline for changing the campaign manager is tomorrow morning, you should find Mimimi now and tell her you want to be the one to represent her.”

“So that’s why you brought me here,” I said, still doubtful. “How am I supposed to convince her?”

“Figure that out yourself. You just need something to tempt her.”

“Um, I, uh, don’t think I can…”

As I sputtered in protest, Hinami briskly walked out.

“Wait!” I called, hurrying after her. Damn, guess I have to do this.

And then.

I was in the hallway at the end of lunch break when I spotted Mimimi coming out of the cafeteria with Tama-chan.

“Mi-Mimimi.”

Better be careful, since stuttering on Mimimi’s name ends up adding a fourth mi.

“What’s up, Tomozaki?” Mimimi answered cheerfully.

“Um, I wanted to talk to you…”

Recently, we’d been chatting now and then, so I wasn’t super nervous, but still, I was pushing my limits.

“Really?! What?! Did you want to tell me who you like?!”

“N-no way!!”

Mimimi cackled happily. She had me wrapped around her finger, but I managed to come out with my proposal.

“Hmmm.”

“…Believe it or not, I’m actually not half bad at this stuff…”

“Really?!” Mimimi grinned. “I’m happy you want to do it, but…”

“B-but what…?”

She winked teasingly. “I’m not sure I can count on you!”

My bubble just popped. Of course it did!!

After school, I met with Hinami again.

“Hey, what was that all about?!”

I’d taken on the challenge of doing as she said, and I’d fallen on my face. Since she was so insistent, I’d trusted she knew something I didn’t that would give me an advantage, but as it turned out, that something didn’t exist.

“Well, I predicted this would happen.”

“Hey!”

What was she trying to do?!

“Calm down. Mimimi already turned in the name of her supporter, so you were basically doomed from the start. But it would have been the best way for you to efficiently gain EXP while I was busy with the election. If she’d agreed, you would have benefited. If she didn’t, I’d give you some assignments to do on your own.”

Well, that did make sense.

“…Oh, that’s what you were thinking. I can see that…but still, you should have told me!”

“When we went shopping, I saw what happened when I stood back, so I thought that this time I’d better push you a little so it wouldn’t happen again.”

“Oof…” I couldn’t say much to that.

“But if that plan won’t work…as far as things you can do while you’re training alone, well, you can talk to your love interest, Fuka-chan, as much as possible, or you can talk with Yuzu and Mizusawa and try to pick up some skills.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

“Right. Well, I hate to lose the time, but during the campaign period, you’ll be training on your own. Let me know if anything comes up… I should be able to meet after school on Wednesday, so we’ll talk then.”

Independent study, huh? Well, lately I’d been taking initiative even when the coach wasn’t around, so I doubted it would be a total loss.

“Got it.”

“Make sure you tell me about stuff before it blows up. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“…Okay, then,” Hinami said, sounding a little grumpy. “That’s it for today.”

“Okay.”

And so began my independent study.

* * *

The next morning, campaigning started.

“I’m supporting Nanami-san for student council president because we’re on the track team together! She always helps the younger members and keeps our spirits high, and since she’s really good at that, um, I thought she could really liven up the whole school! And that’s why I’m supporting her! And her campaign platform…”

“Vote for me! Good morning! Vote for me!”

Mimimi and a girl who apparently was a year behind her on the track team were standing outside the school gates shouting at people. With the younger student giving a speech and Mimimi talking to people as they went in, the mood was very peppy.

The girl giving the speech had a very loud voice and stood up very straight and dignified, creating energy outside the school like a cheerleader. She stumbled over her words a couple of times, probably because she was nervous. But she was doing pretty well if she was already that confident in high school. If Mimimi had accepted my offer… The thought of myself standing in her place made me shudder.

“Hey, Tomozaki! Good morning!” Mimimi waved dramatically at me.

“G-good morning.”

“What do you think?” she asked, pointing to her campaign sash. She was as cheerful as always. “Oh, this is my manager! She’s on the track team with me!”

“I was just thinking you made the right choice… There’s no way I could do what she’s doing.”

“She’s got a loud voice, right?! We’ve been friends since junior high!”

“Thank you!! I’m Yumiko Yamashita!!”

“Ah-ha-ha…”

Yamashita-san thanked Mimimi for the compliment on her voice by dialing up her volume even more. Mimimi was right; volume and vocal quality were important when giving speeches. No matter how good the content, it was pointless if no one could hear you. On that count, Yamashita-san was perfect for the job.

“But thanks for your offer, Tomozaki! A bunch of people turned me down because it’s an annoying job…like Nakamu.”

“Y-you asked Nakamura?”

He did seem likely to say no… Yeah, he definitely wouldn’t want to put up with all this.

“But if anything comes up, I’ll come to you!”

“Right, if there’s anything I can help with.”

I tried to make my smile look as natural as possible. If there’s anything I can help with. That sounded like something a normie would say, right? Not bad, I thought as I nodded at Mimimi and headed toward the school building. Nakamura had been asked by Mimimi and turned her down, while I’d asked her myself and gotten shot down. In other words, he’d completely crushed me. Well, that was unavoidable. Yeah.

As I was walking from the gate toward the entrance to the school, I saw a large crowd of students. Hinami’s supporter was giving a speech.

“Which is to say, an era of change is about to begin, one that will meet the needs of all students, with Aoi Hinami-san, the super heroine of Sekitomo High School, at the helm. To all of you who have gathered here this morning—to you who just pushed your glasses up! Yes, you! And to you who just yawned! You will be the witnesses to history as we take this giant step forward! Hinami-san’s outstanding intellect, popularity, and looks will… Oh, excuse me! Looks are irrelevant, I suppose!”

The crowd laughed at the speaker’s weird impression of an old-fashioned speaking style. Unlike Mimimi’s manager, Hinami’s spoke at a normal volume, but for some reason his voice carried extraordinary force. Each word was clear and easy to understand, but the speech’s flow was still smooth. Nothing about it sounded stilted. I knew this voice.

It was Mizusawa’s.

“Jokes aside, however, I am utterly serious. Flexibility is crucial—to have fun in the fun times and be tough in the tough times. Oh, hello, Ms. Kobayakawa, you still haven’t fixed that rickety chair in the cooking classroom? Aoi Hinami is the candidate who will start with those little things and use her planning skills and energy to get to the root of the problems at this school!”

“Ooh, very nice!”

Ms. Kobayakawa smiled, apparently enjoying the speech.

Mizusawa’s speech patterns, vocal projection, and intonation were subtly playful, like he was a comic at a stand-up show. He wasn’t stiff, and there was something about him that drew people in. So Hinami had chosen Mizusawa as her manager? Well, that was fine. As I listened to him, I had to admit he was the perfect man for the job.

Hinami stood to the side of the crowd Mizusawa had attracted, drumming up support face-to-face. A nerdy first-year student was shaking hands with her.

“Thank you for your support!” she said.

“Y-you’re welcome!!”

“You’re in the tennis club…right?”

“Uh, um, y-yes…but how did you…?”

“I thought I saw you volleying one day when I was at track practice! So it was you!”

“Um…uh-huh…”

“Stop by again!”

With that, Hinami ended the handshake. The boy stared excitedly at his hand, nodded, and squeezed it in a fist. He was head over heels. What nerd wouldn’t be, if Hinami talked to him for that long?

But seriously, how did she do it? She couldn’t possibly have memorized the club activities of every student in the school, but she must have gotten damn close. I noticed that a couple of people had lined up to shake her hand. What was going on? She was like an actual celebrity.

Watching everything unfold out of the corner of my eye, I skirted the crowd and headed into the building. That’s when it struck me.

She’s right. No one can beat her.

When I got to class, I made sure to complete my independent study assignment by talking to Izumi.

“Did you see Hinami outside?”

Izumi pivoted perkily toward me. “Yeah! That crowd was amazing.”

“She’s just so strong.”

That was my honest impression.

“Yeah…”

Even though Izumi had agreed, I could tell she wasn’t saying everything. I wondered what else she was thinking… It probably had to do with Mimimi and her campaign nearby. Honestly, anyone could see she didn’t stand a chance. The problem wasn’t with Mimimi. It was just that Hinami was too good. I hadn’t known Mimimi for long, but with her communication skills, popularity, and personality, she could easily be student council president—if Hinami wasn’t here. Unfortunately, she was up against the wrong opponent.

“Anyway, here!”

Maybe because she felt uncomfortable and wanted to change the subject, Izumi handed me the broken stopwatch I’d given her.

“Hey, so this means…!”

“I mastered the short hops!”

She gave me a formal salute and a rather odd smile. She was probably feeling awkward. What should I say in this situation? I thought back to my conversation with Mizusawa to find an idea for something normie-ish to say.

“What’s that face you’re making?”

“Jerk!”

Now we’re talking like good friends! Wow! Mizusawa, you’re amazing!

If I kept up this kind of experimentation, I’d see significant growth during my independent study period.

But when I was talking to Izumi later, and she said she was going to work hard, I tried the Mizusawa tease again and said she was talking too loudly. That time, she just said, “Oh, sorry,” and got all quiet. Yeah, I need to try harder. I’m the one who should be saying sorry.

So the day progressed with me getting on the horse and falling off over and over until school was out.

Hinami and I weren’t meeting that day, and there wasn’t any way for me to practice having conversations or adjusting my tone, so I figured I’d go straight home for the first time in forever and work on my facial expressions. As I left school, I bumped into Mimimi. She was campaigning alone. Where was her manager?

Well, well, looks like I just found myself an impromptu independent study assignment, I thought to myself like some character from a crime movie. I called out to Mimimi.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, Tomozaki! Here you go!” She handed me a small piece of paper. “…That’s my platform.”

I looked down at the paper. A list of campaign promises was typed out on it.

1, Encourage students to greet one another, creating a friendlier and more positive school environment.

2. Install a suggestion box for student ideas to use to improve the school.

3. Expand the selection at the school store

4. Expand the scale of the sports festival.

“What do you think?”

“What do I think? Uh…”

In truth, a few things about it bothered me. Or I should say, I wondered why she hadn’t noticed any problems. But that wasn’t a very positive comment, so I wasn’t sure if I should say anything.

“What do you think of my platform? Does it make you wanna vote for me?”

What should I do?

If I didn’t say anything, I doubted I could come up with a good excuse or cover up my real feelings, and then it would get awkward. On the other hand, I knew I could say what was on my mind. That was my only strength starting out, and by now I knew how to use my face and voice to deliver it more effectively.

“Uh…,” I said, still waffling. I decided to go for it. “It’s just, the platform…well, the way you’ve written it is…”

“What do you mean?” Mimimi looked very confused. Of course.

“I mean…look at this.” I pointed calmly to the fourth point. “Here.”

Mimimi gazed gravely at the paper.

“What? That’s totally normal,” she said, peering at me. Damn she’s close. Normies always get so close. Her attractive face was right in front of my eyes. I froze for a moment.

“Um…well, the font here is smaller than everywhere else…”

“…Oh! You’re right! Wow, Tomozaki! Are you a detective or something?”

“Also…this part.”

I pointed to the comma after the 1.

“What?”

“See, all the other ones use a period, right? But this one has a comma. It was probably just a typo…”

“Oh wow, you’re right!”

“People who pay attention to those things will notice it right away and think it’s sloppy. That won’t make a very good impression. I mean, I don’t think it will, but that’s just my opinion.”

I didn’t have anything that really qualified me to point out things like this, so I tried to keep it modest. A couple of other little things were bothering me, too, but I didn’t mention them.

Mimimi looked at me with a sparkle in her eye. “…Tomozaki, are you one of those types who’s secretly super good at something?”

“Uh, no…”

I just spend so much time on the computer playing games, I tend to notice those minor details.

But now that I thought about it, I realized Mimimi tended to just go with the flow, and her campaign manager didn’t seem overly obsessed with details, either. Which meant…maybe I could be useful? Right then, a flash of inspiration struck.

I had Hinami’s assignment about advancing my ideas, plus her original plan A of making me into Mimimi’s manager. Why not put the two together and take them a step further?

“Mimimi.”

“Yeah?”

I hesitated for a second, then continued. “I think I can serve as the brain of this operation.”

Mimimi gaped at me.

“…B-brain!” She lit up. Did that mean she liked my idea?

“You’re not great at the details, right? I could take care of all that for you. Especially anything that has to do with computers.”

Mimimi nodded quietly as I laid out how this would be in her best interest.

“That’s not a bad idea. You’re right that details aren’t my strong suit…and…”

“And?”

Mimimi looked at me brightly before answering excitedly. “I just like how it sounds! ‘The Brain’!!”

“Huh?”

“It’s great; I love it! That way I can be like, ‘I need my brain’! God, I want to say that! And wouldn’t you love to say, ‘I’m the brain!’? I bet you would!”

Her different voices when she was imitating us reminded me faintly of Hinami. But was she really basing her decision on how the word sounded? Guess I could kind of understand that…

“A-are you serious?”

“That’s half-right! The other half is that I’m just following my gut!”

Huh? “So about my idea…”

“Yes! Let’s do it! Actually, I might really be glad to have your help. Yumi-chan’s not around after school.”

“Yumi-chan?”

“The girl who was here this morning! Since we’re on the track team together, I want her to go to practice after school. So while she’s busy, I’ll campaign by myself! After all, I’m the candidate, so I’ve got to do the lion’s share!”

“Ah, right.” She sure was a nice teammate.

“That’s why it would be great to have your help after school. Of course, I did turn you down once! Tee-hee!”

The “Tee-hee” came out loud and clear even though she was sticking her tongue out.

But this was great. Now my independent study would be even more productive—although this was a little scary.

“Okay, so what should I do today?”

“Love the enthusiasm! Such a diligent worker!”

She slapped me on the shoulder a little harder than she should’ve. Ouch.

But here we go! I failed at becoming her manager, but I did become her brain. And I made my second successful suggestion. Better late than never! Assignment completed. Bet Hinami can’t complain now!

“Um, Tomozaki? Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

Mimimi peered into my eyes. “Why are you so eager to help out?”

Once she said it, I realized the question made sense. I’d asked to be her manager, and she’d turned me down. Then I said I wanted to be the brain of the operation. Anyone would wonder why I was being so persistent. Crap, what now? If I told her the truth, I’d have to say Hinami had told me to—that, to be precise, I wanted to learn conversation skills, but there was no way I could say that… As I grasped for an answer, inspiration struck again.

“It’s Hinami—”

“Huh?”

Once again, the justification flowed from my lips with surprising smoothness. “I want to take her down.”

As I said the words, I realized I meant both in real life and as nanashi fighting NO NAME.

“What?”

Mimimi blinked her big eyes and stared at me. I kept talking.

“She’s, like, invincible. I mean, she’s OP. I think she could stand to lose once in her life… I like gaming, and with games, the stronger the opponent, the more you want to win. So I thought it would be awesome if we could fight her and win.”

Mimimi listened seriously. “…Tomozaki.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re insanely full of yourself.”

“L-leave me alone!”

Of course, she was right; the gap was so big, we didn’t stand a chance right now. She smiled from ear to ear.

“And that’s a good thing! Just between you and me, I’m full of myself, too!”

“Really? You?”

“Yup. Totally!” She grinned. “After all, I want to beat Aoi!”

I couldn’t tell if she was acting or not; the far-off look in her eyes was confusing me.

“R-really?”

“Anyway, I’m happy about this! I thought I’d have a chance if I worked really hard, but did you see Aoi and Takahiro this morning?”

“Yeah, sure did.” They were incredible.

“To be honest, when I saw them…I felt like I didn’t have a chance.”

There was a shade of humiliation in her smile.

“…Yeah.”

Anyone who saw their perfect campaign rally would have felt the same.

“I was just thinking I’d lose for sure if I went on like this. I have to change something. So this worked out perfectly! Change something for me! I’m counting on you, Tomozaki!”

She pummeled my shoulder again.

“Ow! Um, right, I’ll get on it…” I felt like her expectations were way too high.

“Our first meeting starts now!”

“Okay!”

Even though I was the one to suggest all this, Mimimi was already taking the reins.

* * *

“Here’s where you change the font size.”

“Oh yeah, right! Um…”

“Should I type?”

“Yes, please… Wow, you type fast! I knew you’d be good at computer stuff.”

We were in the school computer lab. Mimimi was appreciating the typing skills I’d honed in online gaming chat rooms. I’m not really that fast—I’m actually relatively slow—but apparently normal people are impressed by this skill. By the way, I was doing my best to interpret the “I knew” before the “you’d be good at computer stuff” in a positive light.

“How’s this?”

I showed the screen to Mimimi.

1. Encourage students to greet one another, creating a friendlier and more positive school environment.

2. Install a suggestion box for student ideas to improve the school.

3. Expand the selection at the school store.

4. Expand the scale of the sports festival.

“Oh wow! What did you do? It’s super easy to read now!”

“Right?”

Just as I’d suspected, a couple of little changes made a big difference.

“Did you do something aside from the period and the font size? It looks like you changed the layout or something…” Mimimi stared intently at the screen.

“It’s probably this,” I said, pointing to the first point. “The text takes up two lines, so I created a hanging indent on the second line to isolate the numbers in the list.”

The layout had been pretty sloppy to start with.

Mimimi pulled the original version out of a clear file folder and compared the two.

“You’re right! And you changed the second point, too.”

“Oh yeah. One word was hanging over onto the next line, so I shortened it up a bit to fit on one line.”

That lone word on its own line was making the text harder to read, so I deleted “to use.”

“Wow! You’re way more on top of things than I expected. Very surprising!”

“Well, at least you’re honest.” I guess that’s how people see me…

“Great! Let’s print this baby out!”

“Uh, wait a second.” I wanted to make another suggestion.

“Why?”

As I thought about various ways she might be able to win the election, I felt like I was building a strategy with my available skills to take down a boss.

“You’re handing that flyer out mostly to students, right?”

“Basically. Sometimes I give one to a teacher, too!”

“In that case,” I muttered. “…You don’t need this.”

“Don’t need what?”

I looked Mimimi straight in the eye, then got embarrassed by her perfect features and looked away.

“…Your first campaign promise, about greetings to make the school friendlier and more positive. Most students aren’t going to care about that. I don’t think you’ll get much mileage with that.”

“Oh, you’re right!”

Basically, nobody wants everyone in their school to say hi to them.

“If you’re only giving a few of these to teachers and the rest to students, it would be better not to give any to teachers and focus on campaign promises that students will like.”

It was like choosing between magic or physical attacks, fire or water. It was Gaming 101—know your enemy and use the skills that would be super effective.

“Hmm, that might be a good idea!” Mimimi seemed convinced, and a second later, she said, “I’ll do it!”

Nice. Glad I’m a gamer.

But then I remembered one of my conversations with Hinami.

“If you’re confident your suggestion is right, and you’ve learned about a ‘bad rule’ that says suggestions won’t be accepted just because they’re right… If you want to make an impact, you have to make use of the bad rule.”

In a sense, that was what I was trying to do. Students wanted campaign promises that made life at school easier. From one perspective, it would be hard to call that a “good” rule. My strategy was to make a campaign platform that took advantage of that rule to get more votes. But in this case, we wouldn’t just be camouflaging our real intent with a surface change. We’d be changing the actual platform. In other words, if Mimimi had some things she wanted to do as student council president—some things she thought were right—then changing the platform could fundamentally impact her ability to accomplish them.

Normally, people didn’t choose to run for student council president unless they were super serious. This time around, she was also fighting a tough opponent like Hinami. Mimimi probably had some reason for doing it, and I had to make sure the platform we were putting together right then didn’t contradict that reason.

“First I have to ask you something.”

“Really? What?”

I looked at Mimimi’s face again. As usual, her perfect features made me feel awkward, but it would be weird not to look at her when I said what I planned to say, so I forced myself to maintain eye contact as I continued.

“Why did you decide to run for student council president?”

Mimimi froze for an instant at such a direct question. “You want to ask me about that right now?!” She looked half embarrassed and half surprised.

“I just think it would kinda suck if the changes we made to your platform went against something you really wanted to achieve.”

“Oh, yeah. That does make sense.”

“Also, I’ve just been wondering. I mean, with Hinami running and everything.”

“…Aha, that’s what I thought,” she said with a cynical smile. She looked a little lonely—not at all like the Mimimi I knew.

“…What do you mean?”

“You know, about Aoi.” She was back to her usual playful self.

“And that means…?

“Um…oh right! My reason for running. It’s the same as yours for wanting to help me!”

“The same…?” Then it clicked. “Oh.”

She wanted to try to beat Hinami. The same reason I’d given her for wanting to be her “brain.”

“I want to see if I can fight someone like Aoi and win! That’s why I’m running.”

“Which means you don’t want to change the school or achieve any specific goals…”

“Nope, nothing like that!” She poked her pointer finger into the air.

“…Ah-ha-ha, that’s surprising.”

Suddenly, I was a little glad. Never would have guessed our motivation would be the same. I almost asked her why she wanted to beat Aoi, but I figured she must have something similar to my gamer’s pride in her, so I decided not to. I didn’t have the skills to push the conversation that hard.

“Like I said, I’m full of myself!”

“In that case, we can come up with any platform and campaign strategy we want?”

“Pretty much! Honestly, you’ve been doing so well at this brain thing, I kinda want to leave it all up to you!”

This time she had both pointer fingers in the air.

“Really? …In that case,” I said, running through ideas in my head. “…This is gonna be easy.”

“That face is terrifying, Tomozaki.” She smiled excitedly.

Terrifying? Yeah, I bet. I just realized something.

Aoi Hinami is the strongest player in the game of life. I’d learned some strategies from her, and now I was playing them myself. I hadn’t decided yet if it was a god-tier game or whatever, but at the very least I was starting to think it was a good one.

And that was why I’d started to get greedy.

One of these days, I wanted to fight the infamous superboss Aoi Hinami in a game that would give me a fair shot. And I didn’t just want to fight her—I wanted to beat her.

But I was still a bottom-tier character. If I was fumbling through conversations, there was no way I could make convincing campaign speeches. Mimimi’s manager, Yamashita-san, had terrific energy, Mizusawa was an incredible public speaker, and Mimimi and Hinami were popular and great at communication. I didn’t measure up to any of them. My stats just weren’t there. But…

Maybe I could pull the strings from backstage.

I was the strongest Atafami gamer around, and I’d learned some life strategies from Hinami.

What if I could control the top-tier character Mimimi in order to fight Hinami?

If I did that, wouldn’t bottom-tier character Tomozaki become nanashi in real life, too?

I’ll give Hinami a run for her money. No—I’ll beat her.

That thought excited me.

“Mimimi.”

“What?”

I wanted to share that excitement with her. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s win for real.”

She stared at me for a moment, apparently surprised by my sudden passion for the cause. Finally, she smiled her usual brilliant smile.

“…Damn right!”

She pounded me vigorously on the shoulder. I told you that hurts!

* * *

“Okay, assuming the flyer is in good shape, we need to think about the rest of our plan…”

“Couldn’t we just hand this out?”

“Maybe under normal circumstances, but your opponent is Hinami.”

“Oh right.”

We were talking strategy as we cut the printed flyers down to size. I looked at one of them and smiled cynically.

1. Expand the items for sale at the cafeteria and school store.

2. Relax the rules about hairstyles and school uniforms, thereby improving student vitality and independence.

3. Petition to allow students on the roof during lunchtime.

4. Boost enthusiasm and energy by inviting celebrities to the culture festival as special guests.

“We’re really pandering to the students now.”

“True! You’re surprisingly evil, Tomozaki!” Mimimi covered her mouth with her hand and giggled mischievously.

“Oh, no, I’m playing clean!”

It was true. This was nanashi’s playstyle—use everything at your disposal.

“Are you really?” Mimimi said, looking surprised but happy. “Seriously, though, anyone who sees this is gonna love it!”

“Well, they’ll probably still peg some of it as campaign rhetoric.”

“Ah-ha-ha! That can work, too!”

“I think so.”

“I like the excuses in case a teacher sees it—it’s terrible! You’re an evil agent!”

“What can I say?”

Mimimi laughed. She was right; I’d kept our campaign promises to stuff that would be easy to defend as “supporting school spirit and student convenience” in case a teacher had questions.

“So now we have to think about what else to do?”

“…Yeah.” I’d already come up with some ideas. “Between now and your big speech, we’ve got to gather a number of supporters to rival Hinami’s.”

Her big speech was the one she’d give in front of the entire student body this coming Friday. If we let Hinami establish a better image than us between now and then, we’d lose even on the off chance that Mimimi gained an upper hand in the speech.

The problem was, Mimimi was going to have a hard time gaining more supporters than Hinami with the usual tactics. We only had four days, and that included today. Honestly speaking, Mizusawa was far and away a better public speaker than Yamashita-san. Hinami, meanwhile, wasn’t just working hard this very minute. She had her established good reputation to go on, plus the crazy level of effort she’d already put into things like memorizing facts about every student.

Closing the gap was going to be hard. Since skill was built from previous effort, experience, and inborn talent, trying to fight back now would be a drop in the bucket. If we didn’t find a manager who could give better rally speeches than Mizusawa and make Mimimi more popular than Hinami, we wouldn’t be able to close the gap. Either of those things would be tough to do. Impossible, frankly.

Hinami had accumulated an overwhelming number of advantages; that was just who she was.

In short, NO NAME’s playstyle was to overpower the enemy with effort.

In which case, nanashi had to take her obvious advantage as a given and figure out how to storm the castle from behind.

To hatch my strategy, I probed Mimimi and her connections for insider information about school clubs and teams. Then, at my suggestion, we left the computer lab and headed for the gym, where the volleyball and basketball teams were practicing. When I told her what we were going to do, Mimimi smiled teasingly and said, “Ooh, Tomozaki, you really are bad!”

No, I’m not! In a way, this is about as orthodox as it gets.

We arrived at the gym. I looked around and spotted Tama-chan walking across the volleyball court with a ball. Guess size doesn’t matter for that sport. I could have said hello, but that wasn’t my goal right now, so I left the niceties to Mimimi.

Following the plan we’d discussed, Mimimi went up to the captain of the boys’ basketball team and started chatting with him. He was muscular and handsome—a normie, by all appearances. I stood back at a distance that would allow me to keep from physically shrinking away from him.

“Hey, Sasaki!”

“Huh? Mimimi? What’s up?” The guy she’d called Sasaki walked across the court to her.

“I’m campaigning!”

Mimimi put her hands on her hips and stuck out her chest. The wrinkles in her shirt emphasizing her big boobs naturally drew my eyes, but Sasaki didn’t even glance downward. Witness the power of the normie.

“Yeah, I heard you were running. Working hard, eh?”

“Oh, you know! Hard work is my saving grace!”

“Nerd!”

Normies—you never know when someone’s gonna call someone else a nerd. I almost got cold feet right then and there.

“Actually, I came to negotiate.”

“Negotiate?”

“Yeah. Like, if I push for this policy, you’ll vote for me!”

“Huh. To be brutally honest, I’m planning to vote for Aoi.”

“Nooo, don’t say that!” Mimimi covered her ears with her hands jokingly.

“So, what? You said something about policies?”

“Yes! Policies!”

“Geez, you’re loud.”

“Just listen! The big picture is…I’m going to push for the school to buy electric ball pumps. Do I have your vote?” As she announced the offer, Mimimi smiled deviously.

“Are you serious?!”

Sasaki took the bait big-time.

Yup, an electric ball pump. That was my strategy.

Develop a platform that brought strong benefits to specific clubs and solidify support among their members. Pork barrel politics. It’s a legitimate campaign strategy.

“I’m very serious. Anything to give our sports teams a leg up! Which reminds me, it’s not just for the basketball team. You’ll be sharing it with the volleyball, soccer, and handball teams.”

The pump would bring strong benefits to all four teams, and that’s why I’d chosen it. At a couple hundred dollars, it was within the realm of genuine possibility, and it would let students skip the drudgery of blowing up balls. Nothing would make the sports kids happier.

“I’m in.”

“An honest vote for Mimimi! And not just yours, of course?”

“Ha-ha, okay. The pump’s a sure thing, right?”

“Leave it to me!”

“Awesome. I’ll let the guys know.”

He gestured to the court with his chin. There looked to be a little under thirty members on the team. If 80 percent of them agreed to the plan, that would be at least twenty votes for us.

“Thanks!”

With that, Mimimi had snapped up her first new votes. Partly it was thanks to my pork-barrel plan, but it was probably more due to Mimimi’s communication skills. If I was the one doing the negotiating, he probably would have turned me down based on the law of the non-normie: “Creepy, gross, and ugly.” Even if he didn’t turn me down, I’m so weak-kneed, it would probably get flipped around on me somehow. He might even think I was being underhanded. At the very least, he wouldn’t have gotten that favorable “partners in crime” vibe like he did with Mimimi. The source of the problem was the usual suspect: me.

As I was thinking about all this, Mimimi looked over at Tama-chan with a glint in her eye.

“Tama! Small as always, I see!”

With that, she dashed toward Tama-chan and glomped her.

“Minmi?! What are you doing barging onto the court?!”

“Sorry to intrude!” she said, flipping up the bottom of Tama-chan’s T-shirt and nuzzling inside with her face. What the hell is she doing?

Mimimi stuck her head out the collar so that two heads were now sticking out of the shirt. What was going on?

“Minmi, you’re making it too tight! I don’t get you!”

“We’re two peas in a pod!”

“Come on!”

An older girl on the team walked over and bopped Mimimi on the head. Apparently she’d had enough. “What do you think you’re doing, Nanami?”

“M-my darling Shiori-senpai!!”

Mimimi’s eyes glittered even brighter at Shiori’s arrival, and she started in that direction. However, since she was still inside Tama-chan’s shirt, she was hardly able to move. “You’re right… I’m stuck,” she muttered. Shiori sighed and looked at Mimimi.

“And whose fault would that be?”

“Oh right, yeah! Tee-hee!”

With that, she pulled her head back inside Tama-chan’s shirt and started wriggling down in an attempt to get out.

“Eek!” Tama-chan shrieked. No doubt Mimimi had done something to her.

A second later, Mimimi emerged from the shirt. “Bleh! Ah, the fresh air is wonderful!” She spread her arms wide and smiled.

Tama-chan gripped her stomach in a daze. “D-did that just happen?!”

“A-are you okay, Natsubayashi?”

Tama-chan’s teammate peered at her with concern.

“My belly button…,” Tama-chan whispered. She sounded embarrassed.

“B-belly button?”

“She licked my belly bu—”

“What is wrong with you, you idiot?!” Shiori interrupted Tama-chan to poke Mimimi.

“I am not an idiot! Today I come bearing good news for the volleyball team!”

“Huh?”

Taking advantage of the chaos, Mimimi bulldozed over Shiori with the same explanation she’d given Sasaki a couple minutes earlier.

“…And that’s how I’m planning to give a shot in the arm to Sekitomo High School’s sports teams!”

“Pfft… All right, fine. If that’s your deal, we’ll help out. The track team needs to stop getting all the perks.”

“Thank you very much, Shiori-senpai! You’re the best!”

Once again, she’d easily pushed her idea through. Yup, a top-tier character really does make the conversation go much more smoothly.

Mimimi was amazing. Halfway through her exchange with Shiori and Tama-chan, some younger girls on the team had already gathered around her.

“Mimimi-senpai!”

“I heard you’re running!”

“I’m voting for you!”

How in the world did she know all these people in different grades and on different teams?

Meanwhile, I was struggling to hold my own under the stares that seemed to shout, “Who is that guy who’s been lurking around the gym this whole time?” A bottom-tier character had no purpose in this situation, so there wasn’t much else I could do.

As we were getting ready to leave the gym, Mimimi turned to Tama-chan again.

“By the way, Tama, check your back.”

“My back… Huh?” Tama-chan said, glaring at Mimimi. “…Min…mi?”

Her cheeks flushing and deep resentment filling her eyes, Tama-chan walked over to the wall and started wriggling her back around.

“Wh-what did you do?” I whispered to Mimimi.

“Magic fingers!” she said, pinching her pointer and middle fingers and thumb together and then releasing them.

Shiori must have guessed her meaning. “You did that while you were licking her? Good with your hands, I see.” She sounded half impressed and half annoyed.

What??

Mimimi never did tell me what she’d done.

After that, we went outside to the field and talked to the soccer and handball teams, and by the end of the day, we had more than a hundred committed voters.

* * *

On the way home, Mimimi walked next to me, chatting cheerfully.

“That worked so great! You get things done, Tomozaki!”

“No, it was all you… Without your negotiating skills, that would have been impossible.”

We were going home together. I guess that was natural, since we both get off at the same station. This was the second time just the two of us were going home together, but I still wasn’t prepared for it.

“Think the odds are evened up a little?”

“Yeah, should be. At the very least, we’re on the playing field now…I think.”

I tried to hide how nervous I was. I’d just built up Mimimi’s hopes, kind of, but was that hope really justified? Sekitomo High School had almost six hundred students. To tell the truth, a hundred or so supporters weren’t enough. In a normal election it might be, but we were going up against Hinami. We were still at a disadvantage. What should we do about it…?

Unfortunately, I was so nervous about walking home with Mimimi that I couldn’t think straight. But as we walked along side by side, I realized that even though she was crushing me at the game of life, I was taller and more muscular than her… I don’t know how to put this exactly, and I guess it’s obvious, but I noticed that she was a girl.

“What are you staring at me for? Did you want to tell me about your crush after all?!”

“That’s not it!” I retorted in a panic.

Mimimi smiled brightly and swung her bag, jingling all the little charms on it.

“…What’s that?”

I looked at one figurine with weirdly colored stripes on it. It looked like one of those ancient clay sculptures called haniwa. Had she always had that on her bag?

“You’ve got a good eye! I fell in love with this the other day and had to buy it!”

“Huh, really?”

It was pretty weird-looking. I didn’t know what to say.

“What do you think? Cute, right?!”

“Cute?!” I said, surprised. She thought that was cute? I decided to try out the same Mizusawa-style teasing I’d used on Izumi. “No way, it’s super weird!”

“What? Aw, come on! It’s super cute!” Mimimi laughed.

Look at us, being all buddy-buddy. Mizusawa, you’re amazing. This shit really works.

“I mean…it looks like a haniwa.”

“That’s what’s cute about it! You just don’t get it.”

Mimimi pouted, but she still sounded like she was having fun. That is an amazing technique, Mizusawa. But in all seriousness, that thing is definitely not cute.

“Anyway, back to the election! What should we do tomorrow? Tomozaki the Brain, your thoughts?”

She held an imaginary microphone to my mouth.

“Uh…let’s see. In our current situation…”

I thought about it.

What did we have to do to win this election? How could we catch the flawless NO NAME off guard?

The core of this battle was the difference between Mimimi’s and Hinami’s perspectives of the fight. To be blunt, Hinami had her guard down. I don’t mean to say she was foolish enough to ease up on her efforts. It was more of a valid—but mistaken—assumption that we weren’t going to fight that hard.

People typically think of the goal in an election as gathering more votes than their opponent. Hinami probably assumed that was what Mimimi hoped to achieve with her plan of action. Simple and straightforward. And until I became her brain, that was true.

Hinami’s best strategy for an overwhelming victory in that situation was to do the same and focus on gathering lots of votes. If she had a great advantage and more resources than Mimimi before the election even started—to the point that Mimimi couldn’t close the gap—then simply fighting her with the same techniques on the same battlefield would virtually assure her a victory.

And sure enough, Hinami was working this very moment to pull in more voters than Mimimi. That strategy matched up with NO NAME’s pattern of using overwhelming effort to charge her enemy head-on.

In other words, we couldn’t win on those terms. Hinami had a monopoly over that arena and those fighting methods. Our only choice was to toss them out the window.

That’s why I made a different proposal to Mimimi before we headed to the gym to buy votes.

“Let’s make our goal to get fifty-five percent.”

Right from the start, we’d forget about getting as many supporters as possible. We’d give up on 45 percent of the electorate. Instead, we’d devote everything we had to getting the other 55. While Hinami focused on getting every last student to support her, we’d be trying to solidify our support among that narrow majority. With that strategy, even if Hinami was twice as strong as us, we’d be able to put up a good fight.

And so I came up with an idea for some very effective campaigning within a limited section of the electorate: the electric pump.

This is how I explained it to Mimimi.

“When it comes to winning an election, getting fifty-one percent of the votes is just as good as getting a hundred percent.”

Whoever got the majority would win. In that sense, anything beyond that was just to boost your ego. Of course, we could assume Hinami knew about that strategy, too. But she was an orthodox player, so she wouldn’t choose it. If she knew that Mimimi was planning to toss appearances to the wind and just go for a bare majority, things would be different, but Hinami probably hadn’t even considered that.

That’s why we’d be able to catch her off guard and attack from behind. In a sense, it was a simple surprise attack. But it also meant we wouldn’t be able to defend ourselves if she chose to fight with other methods. If Hinami took countermeasures against our strategy, it would crumble like a castle made of sand.

But that was fine. It’s all about the metagame—whatever strat takes out the previous top strat becomes the new top strat. Happens all the time.

“…Heeey, Earth to Tomozaki! What about tomorrow?”

“Oh right.”

No good, no good. I’d unconsciously dived into my own mental world again.

“Are you having trouble coming up with something?”

“No…I’ll think about it.”

I’d run through a lot of ideas, but I still couldn’t come up with one that would get us as many committed voters as today’s did.

“By the way, why do you want to beat Aoi so badly?”

That one came out of left field.

“Why?” I repeated, a little flustered. “…It’s like I said before.”

“Because you like games and stronger opponents make you want to fight more?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“…Is that all?”

Mimimi kept pushing. To tell the truth, it wasn’t. I mean, if I liked winning because I liked games, I’d be more competitive at school and sports, so it wasn’t a very good explanation. Mimimi was smiling, but she seemed suspicious, so honesty was looking like the best policy. At my current level, just about the only thing I could do was say what was on my mind.

“…I’m really good at Atafami.”

“Where did that come from all of a sudden?”

“Well, actually, Hinami is really good at it, too.”

“Aha!” Mimimi said, like she suddenly understood everything. “So you’re out for revenge?”

I tilted my head, confused. “Revenge?”

“No? I thought it was because she beat you at your specialty.”

“Oh, right,” I said, smirking. “No, I win at Atafami.”

“Wow, really?!”

Apparently, the fact that I was able to beat Hinami at even one thing was surprising.

“Uh-huh. But she’s easily the best Atafami player I’ve ever fought. She might even beat me someday, and I’ve never thought that about anyone else.”

“Ohhh.” Mimimi listened, speechless.

“Thing is, she’s crushing me at life. I can’t win no matter what I do—I can’t even imagine it. Meanwhile, Aoi Hinami is the one person I respect as an Atafami player, and life is her favorite stage.”

“Oh, so life’s like a game.”

I’d say it really is a game, but anyway…

“Uh-huh. And as a gamer, I want to try playing her on her stage, too. But I know I can’t beat her yet…”

“Oh… So that’s why.”

“Right. I thought if you and I worked together, we might be able to beat her.”

“I see. That’s fairly believable.”

I hadn’t outright lied about anything, although I kept my status as the top Atafami player in Japan secret out of embarrassment. Needless to say, I also didn’t mention the life lessons from Hinami. Mimimi kept nodding and offering comments like, “Yeah, makes sense, you’re young.”

Damn, she sure pulled a lot of information out of me. Must be a normie conversational skill. Well then, I’ll copy her. Hinami did tell me to steal some tricks from Mimimi, and plus, I wanted to know.

“…What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you want to beat Hinami so badly?”

I turned her own question back on her. Plagiarizing is key in conversations. Just like I plagiarized the Mizusawa Method.

“…Well…” Mimimi smiled uncomfortably and looked up. Had my copycat act pushed her too far?

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine! It’s not a big deal.” She scratched her cheek, her gaze still wandering, and continued talking. “Okay, quiz time! What’s the tallest mountain in Japan?” Her usual cheerful expression was back.

Why the sudden perky quiz?

“Pop quiz, huh?” I said, confused. “Mount Fuji, but…”

“Correct! You lucky dog!”

“Uh…huh,” I said, not sure how to respond.

“Okay, next,” Mimimi said, grinning. “What’s the second tallest mountain in Japan?” She peered into my eyes as if she was trying to read my mind.

“Uh, the second? Um, give me a sec…um…”

“Bzzzt! Time’s up! The answer is…Kitadake!” Mimimi stuck two fingers in the air.

“Kitadake? I didn’t know that, actually.”

“Right?” Mimimi said, smiling brightly. “Okay, next question! Who was America’s first president?”

“George Washington.”

“Correct! And…who was the second?” Once again, she spoke slowly, like she was testing me on something deeper.

“Um…hold on, I’m thinking…”

“Sorry, too slow! It was John Adams. Tomozaki, are you bad at world history?”

“Uh, guess so?”

Since I apparently wasn’t getting her point, Mimimi became slightly more serious than before.

“Okay, next question! Who took first place in the girl’s overall sports test this May?” She smiled gently but meaningfully at me.

“Hinami, right?”

“Correct,” she said, tilting her head a little. “And do you know who took second?” Her eyes met mine.

“…No idea.”

“Thought so. That’s what I’m saying! If you get first place, you become famous, but the instant you drop down to second, your win means almost nothing!”

Almost nothing. I started to see what she was getting at.

“So the person who took second in that sports test…”

For just a moment, Mimimi looked lonely and uncomfortable, but then her usual cheer returned.

“Exactly! That person was me, Minami Nanami! Well? I’m pretty talented myself. Did you know that?”

“N-no.”

“Didn’t think so! That’s what I’m saying. Oh, and by the way, I was also second place academically all the way through first-year finals! I dropped to third and sixth place in the midterms and finals this semester, though.”

Surprising. And considering we go to a college-prep school, genuinely impressive.

“Seriously? You don’t look like the scholarly type.” Overly honest, I know. Blame it on the surprise.

“That was rude!” Mimimi said, cackling. “But no one knows, really. Minami Nanami is one of those beautiful Japanese boys and girls who excels at the literary and military arts.”

“But you’re not a beautiful boy.”

“That’s my Tomozaki, catching the little things! Still, I appreciate that you acknowledge the rest!”

“Shut up!”

I was doing my best to match my comebacks to Mimimi’s quick pace.

“Ah-ha-ha!” She opened her mouth wide to laugh, but the laughter soon faded. “Anyway, that’s the story.”

She looked down, still smiling, and kicked a pebble.

“…Huh.”

I had no idea. Hinami just shone too brightly, and Mimimi had always been hidden in her shadow.

I walked along, unintentionally avoiding eye contact. Mimimi smiled again as she spoke—not her usual overly bright and sparkly smile, but a faint, fleeting one.

“That’s why I want to win.”

* * *

The next day was Wednesday. Mimimi was campaigning in the same spot with Yamashita-san, who seemed to have mellowed slightly. Hinami was campaigning near the second entrance to the school, as opposed to the first entrance, where she’d been before, but she was speaking loudly enough to be heard by students using either door. She had apparently planned for maximum efficiency. Typical Hinami. Normally I would interpret this as a threat, but it was also evidence that she was attempting to win over as many voters as possible, so I took it as encouragement. Our counterattack would sting.

During the break before fourth period, I headed to the library as usual and read with Kikuchi-san…or pretended to. Just like I used to do before we started talking, I was planning strategy. But this time, it was election strategy, not Atafami strategy.

Yeah, she would want to win.

As far as I could tell, Mimimi’s desire for victory was real. She didn’t want to lose. She wanted to win.

She’d let herself stay second place up till now, unable to beat Hinami. But this time she was determined to change that.

I don’t believe anyone is born with a talent for gaming. If anything, it’s a question of how much they hate losing. And on that front, Mimimi was like me.

In which case, we had to fight.

Maybe my desire to beat NO NAME in real life seems childish, but it was genuine. I’m a gamer after all. Which meant if I didn’t give this fight every last thing I had, I’d regret it afterward.

“…The rules of life: bringing everyone’s interests into agreement, persuading the more vocal people, controlling the mood…”

As I held the book by Michael Andi in front of my face, I closed my eyes like I did when I was strategizing for Atafami, abstractly dissecting each life rule Hinami had taught me, reassembling them in concrete terms, visualizing the results, and considering my options.

“Um…did you say something?”

“Oh, no, nothing.”

Kikuchi-san looked at me searchingly. I’d been mumbling out loud. Oops.

“Are you…sure?”

I’m sorry, Kikuchi-san. But I have to win.

At that moment, I was thinking about how to approach Mimimi’s big speech. When I had decided to master Atafami, the first thing I did was imitate a player named Zero, who in my opinion was the best of the best. Similarly, right now I was trying to imitate Aoi Hinami, the player I thought was best at the game of life.

Aoi probably did the same thing. I don’t know how she mastered life. But at least when it came to Atafami, she definitely started out by aping my playstyle. After that, she refined the various moves and came up with counterstrategies based on my methods. She was trying to move past me. Start with copying and then refine. I know this because I’ve played her countless times: Her goal in Atafami is extremely simple.

Through sheer effort, she’ll refine my fighting methods, execute them more precisely than me, and crush me head-on.

Like I said before, NO NAME’s playstyle is to use overwhelming effort to charge her enemy head-on. She didn’t insist she was right and fight according to her own rules. She climbed into the ring, played by its established rules, and won. That was her in a nutshell.

But listen, Hinami. Sure, I may have started by aping other players. I put in effort and grabbed my wins.

But I didn’t stop there.

When I heard Hinami say you had to play by the existing rules, I thought my playstyle wouldn’t work in real life. At the same time, doubt bubbled up inside me.

That’s why I want to test it out this time around.

NO NAME’s only been playing Atafami for a couple months, so she might not know yet.

She might not know who had changed how players of Atafami saw the game just six months ago.

I want to see if nanashi’s playstyle works in real life, too.

“Tomozaki-kun…”

“…Ah!”

My consciousness was pulled back up from the depths of my inner world by a strand of light. Kikuchi-san was staring at me.

“Huh? Wh-what’s wrong? Is there something wrong with my face?”

If she said yes, I had a response ready to go: Don’t worry—it always looks weird.

“No…it’s just that your expression is…”

My expression? Had my mouth dropped open while I was lost in thought?

“Is…?”

“I—I was just surprised because…you looked sort of…gallant.”

“Galla—?!”

My face burned; that was not a word I was expecting to hear. Kikuchi- san touched her mouth with her finger and looked away. Yikes, I almost fell in love right then.

* * *

After school, Mimimi and I headed to the cafeteria and sat by the window eating ice cream as we began our second campaign meeting.

“First, let me ask you something,” I said.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Have you decided on what to say in your speech to the school the day after tomorrow?”

“Nope. I’ve thought about a couple options, but nothing feels quite right.”

Her tone was jokey, but her words reassured me—when they really shouldn’t have—that I could do what I wanted.

“In that case…,” I said, mentally running through the rest of my sentence before I said it, “h-how about you let me write the speech?”

“What?!” she shrieked. Well, of course she did. I know I was asking a lot.

“Um, how do I put this? Look, you’re great at talking to people and negotiating, so…I think you ought to spend your time out there interacting with the public.”

“Not sure I’m that good at it…but I see your point!”

Mimimi responded modestly but positively. After all, I had come up with this argument by keeping her best interests in mind.

“And I’m good at strategies and stuff, so…you should leave that to me while you handle the negotiating. While you’re doing that, I’ll write the speech, and when I’m done, you check it and deliver it.”

Mimimi looked down pensively. “…You think it’ll work?”

What she probably meant was Will we win? I looked straight at her. There was a lot that worried me: uncertainty, lack of self-confidence, whether Mimimi would trust me. But I also had a sliver of hope.

“I…have an idea.”

Mimimi looked at me for a minute, then nodded lightly. “Okay! Do what you’re good at, as they say. You support me; I support you. I’m not opposed to that, Brain!” she said cheerfully, pounding my shoulder forcefully.

“Ow!” I rubbed my shoulder as I kept talking. “There’s a couple things I want you to do today.”

After I explained the strategy to her, she gave her approval and walked off toward school. Her mission today: win over the first-year students. Meanwhile, I ironed out the details of the speech I’d started planning in the library, and then I headed for the gym. I wanted to see if one of my potential strats was actually viable.

“H-hello in there,” I called in a voice too soft for anyone to hear. Like the day before, the basketball and volleyball teams were practicing in the gym. I scanned the courts for Tama-chan, and when I spotted her, I skirted the edge of the building to get closer.

“T-Tama-chan,” I called timidly.

“Tomozaki? What’s the matter?”

“There’s something I want you to help me with… It has to do with Mimimi’s campaign.”

“Okay…what kind of help?”

You might not expect it from someone so small, but this girl doesn’t mince words. She’s friends with Mimimi, so I bet she already knows I’m helping with the campaign.

“Can you leave practice for a minute?”

“…” Tama-chan silently looked around her. “Wait a second!” she said.

She trotted across the court to Shiori, exchanged a couple of words with her, and ran back to me.

“She said it’s fine. So what do you need?”

She craned her neck and focused that overly direct stare on me. As always, I felt like she was taking me in as I was, rather than judging me as someone she liked or disliked.

“I’d rather not go into all the details, but”—I pulled out my smartphone—“I’m going to walk way over there and play some music, and I want you to tell me if you can hear it.”

She looked down at my phone, then straight into my eyes again.

“Should I give you a signal?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Got it! Where do I stand?”

We were moving fast. Seems she didn’t have any questions.

“Um, you can just stay here, but…” I started mumbling more as the awkwardness grew.

“But what?”

“Oh, no, I was just surprised you didn’t ask why I wanted you to do that.”

Tama-chan tilted her head as if to say Huh?

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to go into detail?” she said, very dryly.

“Oh, right, I did say that.”

This awkward feeling was really messing me up. Tama-chan did not smile. “Also, it’s to help Minmi win the election, right?” She didn’t seem to be hinting at anything else.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, I’ll help you! Minmi said it was okay, right?”

“Y-yeah, she did.”

“Okay, then! I’ll stand here and listen.”

“Oh, um, thanks!”

And that was that. What can I say? She’s a very direct person. I think I remember Hinami telling me her type was unusual these days.

I hurried to start the tests I’d come to do. First, I stood in the very back of the gym and turned on the music. Tama-chan made a big circle with her arms to indicate she’d heard. Nice. Next, I went up to the little balconies on either side of the gym’s upper level, right under the roof. Tama-chan made another circle. Then I went behind the curtain on the stage and tested out a couple of spots, such as the pullout storage unit where the chairs were kept. Finally, I walked back over to Tama-chan.

“Thanks!”

“Done?”

“Yeah. Oh—where could the music be heard best?”

Tama-chan pointed to the two verandas. “Up there.”

“Okay…thanks.”

Good. I’d taken one more step toward realizing my plan.

Now that my task was done, and I didn’t have anything else to talk about, I said good-bye to Tama-chan and turned toward the door, planning to return to the cafeteria to work on the speech some more. Unexpectedly, she stopped me.

“Tomozaki!”

“Huh?” I turned to look at her.

“About the election.”

“Yeah?”

She looked at me, clearly worried about something. “Don’t make her work too hard.”

“Huh?” At first, I didn’t understand.

“Minmi…” Tama-chan’s face fell. “She tends to push herself. More than she should.”

“Oh, right.” I nodded, puzzled.

“Of course, I don’t think she’d let you see that.”

Belatedly, I realized she was completely in earnest. She was honestly worried about Mimimi, and she was trying to tell me, in her very direct way, what her concerns were. There was no ulterior motive at play. She said what she meant.

“She tends to say she’s not overdoing it and then overdo it.”

“…Yeah, I can see that.”

Even though I hadn’t spent much time with Mimimi, the image Tama-chan painted fit the girl I knew.

“So watch out for her, okay?”

Hinami had told me once that Tama-chan was able to bare her heart in her words. Right now, the truth of that was coming through loud and clear. And that meant I couldn’t ignore what she was saying. I thumped my chest, which as far as I know is the skinniest chest in our school, and worked up a smile.

“Leave it to me!”

Tama-chan pointed happily at my face. “You bet I will!”

She turned toward the court, glancing back contentedly at me. Suddenly, I remembered something. I hadn’t asked Tama-chan what Mimimi did to her yesterday, but she might tell me now. Why not just go for it?

“Oh, by the way, the other day, Mimimi said something about ‘magic fingers’—what did she do to you?”

Beet-red, Tama-chan turned toward me, pointed aggressively my way, and snapped, “You don’t ask that kind of question to girls!!”

Shot down. Why to girls, specifically? The mystery deepens…

* * *

Having finished my task and returned to the cafeteria, I was working on the speech when Mimimi arrived.

“Hey. How did it go?”

She made an “okay” sign and looked me in the eye. “Perfect!”

The wave of energy threatened to overwhelm me, but I tried to keep up, forming a smile and giving her a thumbs-up. “Nice!”

Mimimi laughed loudly. S-success? I must be getting the hang of these comebacks! “Dang…that did not sound like you at all…!” She cackled again.

Oh, so that was it. She laughed because the gloomy guy suddenly did something upbeat. Figures.

“And like… Your thumb…!” She laughed, mimicking my awkward movements. Come on, don’t kick a guy when he’s down! Wait, really? Is that what I did? Okay, that is kinda funny. Additional work needed.

“A-anyway!” I said, my face hot. “How many classes did you go to?”

“Um, two still hadn’t finished homeroom, so I went to those two…heh-heh-heh.”

The last ripples of her laughter broke through her answer.

Seriously, stop. “Okay…so you’ll do the rest tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Aside from that, it’s a question of how much they trust me.”

I nodded.

“But really, Tomozaki, you’re evil. Should I really be tricking the baby first-years?”

“What are you talking about? You’re not tricking them. When you win, you’re really going to give it your all, so what’s the problem?”

“Ah-ha-ha, guess so!”

“You’re not promising you’ll be able to carry out your platform. And maybe you really will be able to do it!”

“That’s true! If I win, I’ll go out and get those air conditioners!”

Yes, that was my proposal to Mimimi: win over the first-year students with air-conditioning. It was very simple. She just had to go to their homerooms right after school or right before school started, when most of the students would be there, and tell them that as soon as she got elected, she would work to have an air conditioner installed in every class. The key point was to go only to first-year classes.

That was because we second-year students, not to mention the third-year students, already knew how hard it would be to achieve that goal. If she made the same speech to those classes, it wouldn’t just fall flat; it would make them think she was unrealistic and maybe even lose her some votes.

The first-year kids, on the other hand, had just entered high school. It was July, not even three months after the entrance ceremony, and they might plausibly think that if the student council president worked hard enough, getting air conditioners might be more than an empty dream. All the more so once they heard Mimimi’s impassioned speech.

The question of air-conditioning was of supreme importance to high school students. The majority of schools these days already have it, but not Sekitomo High School. Which was why any student with genuine hope in the possibility would become a core Mimimi supporter.

Of course, it wouldn’t do to lie, so Mimimi would have to push hard for AC once she was elected. If she didn’t succeed by the time they moved up to second year, they would probably just figure it was a harder goal to achieve than they originally thought. Best case anyway.

“Oh, about the speech.”

“I’ve been wondering about that! How’s it coming?”

I spread out the sheets of paper and started to tell Mimimi about it. Of course, I was just parroting Hinami…

First, in order to gain everyone’s support during the speech, Mimimi would need to manipulate the mood. But it wouldn’t be easy with a group as large as an entire high school. In a situation like that, one weapon was likely to be especially useful. I thought back to the most impressive example I knew of mood manipulation: the time in home ec when Hinami rescued Tama-chan.

“First, you’ve gotta make them laugh.”

“I see, I see… Wait, what?” Mimimi said, overacting her surprise like a stand-up comedian. “Wait a second, mister! Making them laugh sounds easy, but it’s not!”

Yeah, makes sense. I nodded. It would have been easier if Mimimi had said, “Leave it to me!” but since she didn’t, I told her my plan.

“I know. It would be really hard to do some big clever routine like a comedian, right?”

“Impossible, more like!”

“But—”

“But?”

As I spoke my next words, I visualized what Hinami had done in home ec and how Mimimi had been talking these past few days—how she made fun of me with her spot-on impressions.

“If it’s an inside joke, you can do it.” In my opinion.

“…An inside joke?”

Mimimi tilted her head quizzically. She was right. Getting a laugh the usual way would be hard. But if the punch line was something relevant just to the people listening, it became possible. That’s what Hinami had done in home ec.

“Specifically, imitating Ms. Kawamura.”

Mimimi looked down for a minute, probably imagining it, then smiled.

“Ah-ha-ha, I get it… Yeah, I think I can do that. And I think it’ll fly!”

Good. I had Mimimi’s approval. That was a relief.

Our homeroom teacher, Ms. Kawamura, was the head second-year teacher, so she often got up to talk at school assemblies. As a result, all the students were familiar with her distinctive way of speaking. Mimimi would be imitating her.

“Oh good. Then let’s put that in the beginning. As for the main part of the speech—”

“Oh boy! I’ve been waiting for this!”

I thought back on each of the techniques Hinami had taught me for a successful proposal, then turned them on her as a weapon.

“The main elements of the speech will be campaign promises that appeal to everyone.”

Bringing everyone’s interests into agreement came first; we’d get as many students as possible to feel that they were going to gain something if Mimimi got elected.

“Okay, like we did with the flyer, right?”

Mimimi was right—almost. But we also had to convince the most vocal people in the audience.

“Not quite. We need to be careful about something.”

“Careful ho—? …Oh, I get it,” Mimimi realized. “Teachers.”

Exactly. We’d handed out the flyer only to students. This was different. We also had to satisfy the teachers, who held the most decision-making power in the school. If they rejected Mimimi, all the votes we’d gathered would be pointless. I nodded.

“We’ve gotta make the teachers think Hexactly!”

“Ooh, Aoi-ese! But I don’t think you’re using it quite right!”

The second I made my “cool” face, Mimimi slapped me down.

“R-really? Uh, anyway, I made sure not to write anything that would get you kicked offstage by a teacher, but all the students will still feel they’re going to gain something.”

Actually, that makes my speech sound crazier than it was. It was really just an extension of her campaign promises.

I showed Mimimi the speech and went over the content, while she listened very intently.

“Huh. Sounds safe!”

She seemed satisfied. And she was right—nothing was too risky so far.

“It would be great if you argue for the air conditioners, but that’s not an option. Which leaves us with this as a compromise.”

“Yeah, that would be hard to do!” Mimimi said, smiling.

“There’s one more thing, and it’s the most important of all…” I explained the little trick I’d come up with for the end. “…And that’s how you’ll wrap up the speech.”

Once I was done talking, I waited nervously for Mimimi’s response. When I glanced over at her, she was grinning excitedly at me.

“…Tomozaki, you’re a real con man!”

She raised her arm high above her head and swung it down toward my shoulder. This again. She’d gotten me so many times by now that the instant I saw her move, I jumped aside, barely escaping the blow. Whoosh.

“…Huh?”

“Nice try!”

I pointed at her face like Tama-chan always does. Mimimi burst out laughing and sputtered, “What even was that…? Who are you…?” Among other things. Stop already! I promise I’ll never do it again!

Still, I had her go-ahead. The only thing left was to nail down the details tomorrow and get ready for the big day.

* * *

The next morning—the day before the speech—I left for school earlier than usual. Today Mimimi would be going around to the first-year classes before homeroom to give her air-conditioner spiel. When I arrived at school, Hinami was campaigning outside as usual with a big group of students gathered around. I glanced over at her as I passed, reassured, and then headed into the hallway where all the first-year classrooms were to check on Mimimi.

After passing a couple classrooms, I arrived at the one where Mimimi was talking about how she’d work to get air conditioners.

“I’ve had enough of campaigns to make everyone say hello to one another! I want to get us air conditioners so everyone can focus better on studying instead of getting heatstroke. Of course, my biggest motivation is just that I hate being so hot all the time!”

With lines like that, she was getting some laughs along with support for the polls. She really was something. I could never do this as well as she could. If I came up with the same strategy for myself and tried to implement it, I’m sure my status as a bottom-tier character would having me tripping over myself constantly.

So this was good.

The strategy I’d come up with was being implemented exactly as I had envisioned. I felt like I was using a controller to make Found play out the moves I’d imagined. If life was a game like Hinami said, then this fight was a really fun one.

And that was why I was determined to take this election very seriously. I’d win no matter what—for Mimimi, who’d entrusted the heart of the fight to me. I think that’s what Hinami meant when she was telling me about responsibility.

“Oh.”

At lunch, I remembered something: I was supposed to meet with Hinami on Thursday after school. What should I do? I wanted to talk to Mimimi about the final details of the speech. The election would be over tomorrow. Why not just meet with Hinami then? I decided to send her a LINE message right away.

“Can we reschedule the meeting for tomorrow?”

A few seconds later, she responded.

“That’s fine, but why?”

I wavered for a minute before deciding to answer honestly.

“I ended up helping Mimimi with her campaign, and we need to figure out the final details, so I want to focus on that.”

The notification that she’d read the message popped up, and then there was a pause. Eventually a response arrived reading simply, “Okay.” That was curt. But so is Hinami. Whatever. Now I’d be able to fully devote myself to the campaign until it was over.

“Ahhh! I can’t believe tomorrow is the speech!”

School was over, and Mimimi and I were meeting in the cafeteria as usual to review our work so far and talk about the plan for tomorrow. Once again, we were sitting by the window eating ice cream.

“Yeah. Oh, that reminds me, did you go to all the first-year classrooms?”

“Yup! They ate it up!”

“Nice…”

That was the best news I could have gotten. A great reaction. If 80 percent of first-year students voted for Mimimi, that would be around a hundred fifty votes. If 80 percent of the basketball and handball teams also voted for her thanks to the electric pump scheme, that would bring it to two hundred fifty votes or so altogether. Sekitomo High School has a little under six hundred students. That meant to get a majority, we’d have to win over another fifty or so of the remaining three hundred fifty voters with the content of the speech. Even with Hinami as our opponent, it was a fairly strong plan.

On the other hand, if the air-conditioner and electric ball pump plans both netted us 50 percent of the target students, that would give us a little over a hundred fifty votes. Of the remaining four hundred fifty students, we’d need to win over a hundred fifty. With Hinami on the field, that wasn’t guaranteed, but we had a fighting chance.

“All that’s left is tomorrow’s speech.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Which reminds me, did you have any ideas for improving it?”

“Mm-hmm, a couple,” Mimimi said before laying out her ideas for where to add more jokes and stuff like that. All her revisions were aimed at making the speech more fun.

“Leave it to a normie,” I couldn’t help moaning. As we were practicing and revising various points—

“Hey, if it isn’t Tomozaki and Mimimi! What are you two up to?” Mizusawa was walking toward us with Nakamura and Takei.

Nakamura. Even after the incident in the old principal’s office, he’d been lashing out at me. Okay, maybe he wasn’t as actively aggressive as before, but I still avoided him. Every time I talked to Izumi, I felt like someone was staring at me—but hopefully that was just my imagination.

Wait a second… Why wasn’t Mizusawa with Hinami today? No, not like that—I’m talking about election activities here. I was suspicious, but for the moment, I kept my seat and responded to Mizusawa.

“Oh, I’m just helping Mimimi out with her campaign.”

Nakamura jumped in. “What? You are?” he said, looking at me and then at Mimimi. “Why Tomozaki?”

“Believe it or not, Nakamu, Tomozaki’s my brain!”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

Nakamura furrowed his brows, looking stern. Ignoring his reaction, Mimimi continued cheerfully.

“Like, for gathering votes and working on my speech!”

“Hmph. Seems like a loser to me,” Nakamura said after a pause of several seconds, like he was sharing his intuitive feelings. It was like every neuron in his mind was colored by the psychology of the ever-victorious normie.

“…Well, this is what it takes to beat Aoi!”

I noticed Mimimi hesitated briefly before she said it.

“Hmph. Win, huh?” Nakamura scoffed, as if he’d just heard a particularly weak joke. It pissed me off.

“O-of course she wants to win. That’s why she’s running.”

It wasn’t exactly eloquent, but at least it was a comeback to Nakamura.

“Oh really?” he sneered.

“Y-yes, really.”

Obviously, I was petrified.

“If you ask me, you’re wasting your time,” he said to both of us.

“Did you see that boomerang?”

It was Mizusawa who interrupted Nakamura’s provocative words with a muttered response. But what the hell? What did a boomerang have to do with this?

“Huh?” Nakamura said.

Mizusawa launched into a good-natured explanation complete with hand gestures.

“Whoosh, whoosh, bang! It means your own words have come back to bite you, Shuji.”

“Dude, what are you talking about?”

I had already guessed what Mizusawa was trying to say. He was trying to—

“Never mind. Personally, I don’t think it’s pointless to give your all to beat someone way better than you. Know what I mean?” Mizusawa’s grin was like a mask, but his cheerful tone kept the question from sounding like a challenge.

Nakamura shifted his eyes away uncomfortably for a second before answering.

“…Oh. Well, whatever.”

Then he clamped his mouth shut. After all, it was hard not to notice the ironic implication in Mizusawa’s question: “Is it also pointless for you to practice Atafami so you can beat Tomozaki?”

“But I mean, come on. Tomozaki? What about Kawasaki or someone like that?”

Had Nakamura gotten what Mizusawa really meant, or had it just felt like a little jab at his wound? In any case, he changed the subject, and then all three of them started imitating how I talk and teasing me in a less-than-friendly way. Et tu, Mizusawa? Well, whatever.

My eyes met Mizusawa’s. He sized up Nakamura for a second, then slipped away from the conversation and came over to sit down next to me.

“So are we gonna see something good tomorrow?”

He was grinning. He had to be talking about the election.

“Who knows? We’re doing okay, though.”

“Ha-ha-ha. Well, I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Hey, why aren’t you with Hinami today?”

As I asked him that question, I felt a gloomy fog rise in my chest. No, I’m imagining things.

“I got dumped. She said she wanted to think about her speech and do some other stuff on her own today.”

“D-du…”

I’m ashamed to say I overreacted even though I knew he was using the word metaphorically.

“Anyway, tomorrow’s the day.”

Mizusawa started to get up, but I stopped him. I wanted to say something about the exchange with Nakamura earlier.

“What?”

“Oh, uh, sorry you had to back me up earlier…”

“Huh? …Oh, with Shuji?”

“Yeah.”

Mizusawa grew serious. “Listen. Situations like that? You don’t say sorry, Fumiya. You say thanks.”

“Uh…”

And with that snappy, somehow familiar little maxim, Mizusawa stood up, rejoined Nakamura and Takei without a backward glance, and walked out of the cafeteria. What just happened? I have no idea if he was serious or joking. Also, since when does he call me Fumiya?

“Those guys are as lively as ever, huh?”

Somehow, Mimimi was able to gloss over everything that had just happened as “lively.” She really did have the normie mind-set. To me, it felt more like a fistfight with words. But now that the verbal brawl was over, Mimimi and I calmly discussed the speech, practiced it, and ended our meeting.

Mimimi said she had to wait for Tama-chan, so I headed home alone. On my way, I discovered an emotion in my heart that I never, ever expected to find there.

No, this can’t be! This time I actually feel…a little lonely?