I Will Inspire Your Insipid Days - Volume 1 Chapter 3.3

Gazing

This time, I decided to ask a question in return.

“Can you manage to converse with Komachi-san in that condition?”

“I told you, I can’t deal with being surrounded by others.”

I refrained from retorting with “that’s why I asked…” to avoid going around in circles. Natsume-san took the initiative to provide an answer.

“If I’m not surrounded, I can manage.”

“Ah, I see.”

So, “others” mean “a large, unspecified number of people,” and “being surrounded” refers to situations such as dining places or public transportation, where personal flexibility is limited. Conversely, inviting Komachi-san over wouldn’t constitute being “surrounded by an unspecified number of people” since the total count would be three, including me, her roommate, making it not a situation of being surrounded.

Thinking this far, I still harbored doubts, wondering, “Is that really okay?” But if the person herself says it’s not a problem… maybe it’s okay?

“Komachi-san talks quite fast; can you keep up with her?”

“It’s hard to make eye contact, but I should be able to talk. She’s a girl of the same age, right? When I do online meetings, we communicate through voice, so if it’s that kind of vibe, it should be okay.”

“I don’t think conversations with classmates turn into work meetings that often.”

I don’t know, though.

Komachi-san is highly skilled in communication, with Satsuki-san’s endorsement.

Above all, if Natsume-san says it’s okay… maybe it really is.

“Are you okay with it being known that you’re ‘Natsume’?”

“I’m not pretending to be a girl while being a guy, like Yonon is.”

“That’s one word too many.”

“I haven’t been hiding that I’m a girl, nor that I’m a high school student, nor even that I’m a student at Shumonzuka. I just haven’t said it because there’s no need. What was that classmate’s name again…?”

“Komachi, Komachi-san.”

“Right, Komachi. For example, even if Komachi’s fantasy about ‘Natsume’ completely shatters, I’m fine. Besides—”

“Besides?”

“Chatting with a classmate seems like something a normal high school girl would do.”

I was convinced.

This must also be part of the “high school life” Natsume-san wants to experience.

“…By the way, as an option, you could also tag along with us.”

“Suggesting unfeasible options only leads to stagnation in discussion, so it’s better to avoid that.”

I expected that kind of response.

Now to reconcile with the original purpose. Traffic control is needed, but…

“…Huh?”

A thought occurred to me.

Having virtually no friends, I took a long detour.

I began typing a reply on the messaging app.

“Could you lend me some makeup remover?”

“This is ‘Natsume,’ real name Natsume Tachibana. Though she has never attended school, she is legitimately our classmate.”

“…”

I had invited Komachi-san to our dorm room and was introducing her to Natsume-san. I thought she’d introduce herself briskly, like at an interview, but such imaginations evaporated. Komachi-san was completely frozen.

“Komachi-san?”

“…”

After a brief silence, what came back was a wry smile.

“No, no, no, you’re kidding, right? This is Shumonzuka Girls’ Academy, right? A place overflowing with talents from various industries. But ‘Natsume’ is an artist actively at the forefront. There’s no way she’d bother coming to school!”

“I think so too, but she seems to have a different idea.”

“I thought I’d miss out on high school life if my body matured without experiencing it, so I decided to enroll. Well, adults can enter high school too, so there was something appealing about the rarity of experiencing high school life before my body becomes fully adult.”

“—And that’s what she said.”

“Sorry, I don’t quite understand…”

Neither do I. I nodded silently in agreement.

Komachi-san continued, “And.”

“Besides, even if you say ‘This room houses Natsume,’ upon being suddenly called here and told that, it’s impossible to believe. Is this some kind of prank? Are the cameras rolling?”

“Prank…? Camera…?”

“Don’t you get it!?”

A gaze of astonishment flew my way. As I tilted my head at the unfamiliar terms, Komachi-san scratched her head roughly, groaning, “Nngh.”

“Anyway, where’s the proof that this girl is ‘Natsume’?”

Before I could answer, Natsume-san spoke up.

“Feel free to look.”

She pointed towards a canvas and wooden easel facing the bed.

“I don’t see any other choice but to show you.”

“Is it okay if I look?”

“Sure. I want everyone to see it eventually.”

With some hesitation, Komachi-san approached the canvas from behind and—.

“—Huuh.”

Thump.

With a scream like the slicing of the wind, the makeup remover she held slipped from her hand, and its packaging slammed onto the floor. Meanwhile, Komachi-san remained frozen, gazing at the canvas.

I’m not familiar with art, but even I think, “This is an amazing painting” when I see her work. Thus, it’s understandable that Komachi-san, who’s studious, would react this way, being almost consumed by Natsume-san’s world.

After a while,

Komachi-san, still in a daze with her mouth agape, received a nonchalant stretch from Natsume-san. Their gazes, having swapped vertical positions, overlapped.

“…Why is Yonon sticking to the ceiling?”

“I’d appreciate it if you doubted your own posture before gravity…”

“Ah, true. I’m upside down, aren’t I?”

“Let’s just be glad Natsume-san didn’t panic. Even though I had permission in advance, it’s still concerning to have a stranger enter our living space.”

Natsume-san replied with an offhand comment,

“It’s within my expected behavior, so no problem. Yonon should try to understand my specs a little better.”

Then, she looked at Komachi-san, still frozen.

“This person? She wanted to meet me, Komachi?”

“We were just talking a moment ago…”

“Me? When?”

Unaware…

But it’s pointless to delve deeper with her…

“Right. Our classmate, Komachi. And please don’t abruptly insert people’s names without context.”

For a moment, she didn’t catch up because I suddenly dropped the honorifics.

“It’s rare to want to meet and talk to the creator of a work you admire. Most people in the world force their interpretations on creators’ works without the creator’s intention, fitting their own logic. I never thought there’d be someone who wants to understand from the root what the creator thought, how they lived, and what environment they grew up in.”

“You’re talking too fast…”

I couldn’t catch half of it because she spoke so quickly.

“Komachi-san, it’s time to come back.”

When I spoke to her, Komachi-san snapped back with a “Hah!” and looked at us.

Then, she began speaking in a timid voice.

“Um, it’s an honor to meet you. I’m Komachi Kimie from the same class. ‘Komachi’ comes from a place name in the Kansai region. As you might guess from my accent, I’m from Osaka…”

“Why the formal language? Aren’t we classmates?”

“Well, I thought starting with formal language might prevent mistakes in initiating human relationships.”

“I don’t use formal language, and you don’t need to with me. And why has Yonon suddenly started using formal language?”

“What are you talking about? Haven’t I always spoken this way?”

“Huh?”

That’s right.

This person can’t grasp such nuances.

“Well, never mind.”