Chapter 11 (Patreon)

“Good morning, Master.” My “senpai” bowed respectfully, grinning as she passed through the academy gates. I tried to give her a polite smile in return, adjusting my disciplinary committee armband. It was my turn to stand watch at the gates today, checking students’ appearance and noting who arrived late.

“Good morning, Tsubasa-san.” I thought I’d managed a smile. Inwardly, I reflected with philosophical calm that this would be another log on the bonfire of my troubles.

The little cluster of girls by the academy entrance had already seen and heard everything. Kiryu Aika’s thoughtful expression and bright blush were especially troubling. I’d bet anything the gears in her head were spinning like mad.

I never imagined that volume of manhua would become the starting point of our… ahem… friendship. This sweet girl… er… this sweet little menace, that’s right! Ahem. Anyway, her friendship—though, honestly, we were really just acquaintances on slightly friendly terms—had brought me a whole pile of troubles. Nothing too serious, but still annoying, at least from my point of view. Though… oh, it’s complicated. It’ll take a bit more explaining.

The chain of events began the day after I bought that belch from the Chinese entertainment industry. I’d filed its author’s name under Never read again, even if they threaten to shoot me for five hours straight.

Kiryu pulled the same trick again, appearing beside me without warning in the hallway. It wasn’t as if I was obsessively watching everything around me, but I usually noticed people. I sensed when someone was watching me, heard their footsteps, felt their presence. Yet this bespectacled girl had now appeared beside me out of nowhere twice. It might even have been intriguing, if not for where it all led.

“Hi, Chiba-san! So, what did you think of the manhua?” That was the first thing she asked. And it was like pulling the trigger on a gun with the safety already off.

The thing was, I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was pleased with my conversation with my Lady. It had once again confirmed that joining her House had been the right decision. Relatively speaking, of course. Life isn’t some simple arithmetic problem for first graders with only one correct answer. There are many roads to choose from, or even just directions in which to move. The only real limit is the question: Is this acceptable to me? And personally, I was satisfied with everything—from our friendly group, so easy on the eyes, to Sitri-sama herself, my Lady.

A princess of a powerful House, the younger sister of one of the rulers of the Underworld—generous, intelligent, interesting, and beautiful. Even alluring, yes. For now, I considered her the most attractive girl I knew in every sense of the word, and I took real pleasure in her company and our conversations.

The bitterness came from the volume I’d forced myself to finish. It left a truly vile aftertaste. Especially after the Evil Villain was defeated. His own daughter killed him by driving a poisoned dagger into his back. I read that part with an icy mask on my face, imagining myself warming up beside a bonfire fueled by the protagonists of this epic.

The problem was that the horrific atrocities committed by the antagonist were described and drawn so poorly that he honestly came across as a perfectly decent man. One of those strict but fair types. The well-fed faces of his subjects, stone-paved roads, sewers, the clean streets of bright, beautiful cities where performers put on shows in the public squares about… Pay attention now… Just think about this… HOW TERRIBLE their ruler was!!! And all the guards did was chase them away, without even trying to throw them in jail. If that had been me… Ugh.

He even welcomed his daughter back to the palace, showering her with affection and sympathy, despite the fact that the harpy had carried out a couple of outright acts of sabotage that got people killed! And that had all been part of the protagonist’s cunning plan. He had disguised himself and posed as that idiot’s rescuer from his own terrible Self.

In short, the Hero valiantly attacked the Villain when the man least expected it and was actually preparing to shower the savior of his precious little girl with rewards… The Hero couldn’t handle him, and when Daddy’s precious little darling saw that her degenerate-kun was losing… she once again acted most valiantly and stabbed her father in the back. Bellissimo, perfetto, fucktastico!

In my head, I called the story The Treacherous Son of a Bitch and the Degenerate Daughter. I even wondered whether it was secretly a deconstruction of the whole “knight and his princess” trope. But no—the author’s online interview informed me that I was an idiot. The Hero was noble, the princess was a mother to her people, and the ruler was a bad man.

And while all those thoughts were still swirling through my head, up popped this braided ninja, whose taste I had already decided was either terrible or downright twisted, and asked a question that hit a particularly sore spot just then.

“Utter shi—” I barely stopped myself, cutting the word short. I was a member of the disciplinary committee and was supposed to set an example. If you take on a job, you do it properly. “Forgive me, Kiryu-san. And good morning. I didn’t like the manhua.”

Honestly, I had expected surprise, perhaps even mild offense. A question like “Why?” and all the usual things. What I had not expected was the girl’s delighted giggle and the joyful sparkle in her eyes.

“You’re right, Chiba-san. That stack of wastepaper is exactly what you were about to call it—and a particularly nasty example, too.” Aika pushed her glasses up with one finger, sending a positively villainous gleam across the lenses.

“So you deliberately sold me a bad story?” To be honest, I was a little hurt. It wasn’t about the money—I had plenty, and buying one shitty Chinese comic wasn’t going to make me poor. It was the time I’d wasted… Besides, Aika and I weren’t on bad enough terms for her to pull something like that on me.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk!” She waggled a finger right under my nose. “Don’t think ill of Kiryu-chan, the Academy’s Number One Silent Type. I sold you the absolute worst manhua in the store, but not to hurt your feelings…”

A meaningful pause, another flash of light across her glasses… Who the hell was she? How did she do that? And why was I intrigued? Hypnosis? Magic? Some kind of technique? I couldn’t sense a thing from her!!!

“The thing is, I’m convinced the first xianxia story you read should be the worst one you can get your hands on! You’re just starting out! You decided to try this wonderful genre for the first time, right?” Nine Heavens, she really knew how to use her voice to make it all sound intriguing. Her eyes blazed with genuine enthusiasm.

“That’s right. It was my first time,” I said with a nod. Then I shook my head reproachfully. “But that was pretty cruel of you, Kiryu-san. I was hoping for something to cheer me up, and instead…”

“Ho-ho-ho!” My classmate chuckled in triumph, though not very loudly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. I felt an urge to do something nasty to her in return. “Like I said, you have to read a terrible manhua first, and then…”

Aika reached into her schoolbag with her right hand and pulled out a paper-wrapped bundle. The shape of a book was unmistakable. She held it out to me.

“Then you read the best one! Take it, and don’t thank me! After the ordeal you’ve just been through, this one will seem so beautiful, you’d think the kami themselves drew it! It’s my gift to a beginner just dipping his toes into this wonderful new world! After this masterpiece, you’ll love xianxia as much as Issei-kun loves perverted stuff.”

“Uh… Sorry, Kiryu-san, but I can’t accept this gift. You paid for it…”

“Come on, Chiba-san. I get an employee discount, so it’s fine.” Aika lightly tapped the bundle against my chest, urging me to take it. “Besides, you already paid for that one, and I ruined your mood, so this is compensation.”

“I can’t.” I smiled apologetically, inwardly snickering like a bastard. My little revenge was taking shape.

What could be worse than a guilty conscience? The girl had turned out not to be malicious after all, just someone with some pretty strange ideas. If she hadn’t gone and ruined those rare free hours, I could’ve accepted her gift and forgiven her without much effort.

“How about this? I’ll borrow it, read it, and return it to you, all right? I don’t have much room in my dorm for extra books. I just don’t know when I’ll be able to bring it back—I have kendo practice, student council work, advanced classes, and electives. Yesterday was the first time I’d had a few free hours in weeks, so I stopped by your shop to find something to read.”

Bull’s-eye! As I spoke, my classmate’s face grew longer, and realization began to dawn in her eyes. That’s right, girl. You ruined a rare stretch of free time for me.

“Chiba-san…”

“It’s fine, Kiryu-san.” I smiled warmly, cackling wickedly to myself. “You said it’s best to start with something bad so the good stuff seems even better afterward, so no harm done. Thanks for the manhua.”

I carefully took the bundle from her hands as she stood there frozen, then went on my way. She’d feel a little guilty, sure, but maybe she’d think twice next time. Misleading customers was a bad habit. Next time, someone might make a scene. Besides, a stunt like that could do a customer a real disservice—or even put a newcomer off the whole genre.

At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. A small lesson for a young girl, a little revenge for the time she’d wasted… But I should’ve either just accepted the gift or pretended to be properly offended. I barely spoke to my classmates, after all, and didn’t know them well enough to judge their personalities. And this girl turned out to be surprisingly quick to take matters into her own hands!

During lessons, Aika kept fidgeting and occasionally shot me guilty looks. Some people noticed, especially the sharp-eyed girls. It wasn’t a big deal, of course, but as soon as classes ended, she took off like a shot in some unknown direction. The next time I saw her was near the student council rooms.

I’d been held up a little. A limping girl from another class had asked me to help her to the infirmary, yet for some reason I couldn’t sense even an echo of pain from her. It wasn’t exactly suspicious—students faked being ill now and then, and it was perfectly ordinary—but considering I sometimes saw this girl with Kiryu Aika…

“Something’s up. I can smell it,” I muttered as the pleased girl nodded to me and headed toward the central staircase.

I was partly right. It wasn’t exactly a setup, but the quick-witted girl had come up with a clever plan to ease her conscience. I had to admire it: Kiryu Aika had used the same tactics I had. Honesty and an appeal to sympathy.

My fellow student council members told me that my classmate had arrived out of breath, practically barged past Genshiro, and told Sitri-sama the whole story. My Lady had seen me struggling through that pile of wastepaper. She listened to Kiryu, made her decision, and declared that my task for the day was to read the book from “that sweet girl with the big heart.” And since all our girls had such huge hearts, they divided up all my work among themselves. Not one of them even flinched.

In the end, I sat there drinking tea and reading a pretty good manhua while everyone else worked. Honestly, I felt like a complete freeloader. And the worst part was that I couldn’t get one question out of my head: So who ended up teaching whom a lesson, huh, genius? In short, karma had walloped me. I’d say it hit me with the big guns, but the trouble didn’t end there.

The next day brought new reasons to be upset. It all started with Kiryu Aika again. She accepted the volume I’d finished—and my perfectly sincere thanks—with a pleased but guilty expression. I tried to do it without an audience, but unfortunately, a gaggle of girls from our class came down the hallway where I’d caught up with her and gave us a long, pointed stare—right as I handed the book back with a grateful smile and Kiryu, blushing, apologized and explained that she hadn’t realized how busy I was.

Is it hard to go unnoticed at a school full of girls? Not really, I’d say—under the right circumstances. I’d kept a low profile from the start. I was quiet and unsociable. A top student, not bad-looking, in good shape, but that was about it. Sure, some people liked that, but hardly anyone knew much of anything about me. I didn’t advertise my personal life, my training, or anything like that. My homeroom teacher knew, of course, but she didn’t go around telling the other students what a great guy I was. In short, I was more forgettable than interesting. And even more so after I turned down two girls who liked quiet guys…

But now several factors had come into play. First, I was still a top student and in good shape. Second, I’d been invited to join the student council, which was a real honor at the academy. Third, there were witnesses who’d seen me being friendly—even smiling warmly at a classmate—as we talked somewhere relatively secluded.

All those wonderful ingredients fell into a cauldron bubbling with girlish curiosity. The mixture simmered all day as the girls whispered among themselves. Then, after classes, a whole herd of goosebumps ran down my back when I saw most of the girls in my class gathering around Kiryu Aika’s desk. As I headed toward the student council rooms, my gut told me something was about to happen.

Was I glad things had turned out that way and my intuition hadn’t failed me? Not really. Or, as a certain mustachioed man who most definitely wasn’t Kazakh might put it: NOT! My intuition should’ve kicked in sooner!!! Back when I went to the bookstore!!!

In the end, I gained my share of popularity. Kiryu had undoubtedly caved under pressure from our classmates and told them the story about the manhua, mentioned how busy I was, and probably brought up my kendo practice too… After that, everyone drew their own conclusions.

Before long, they’d come up with a neat little theory to explain my gloomy demeanor. It wasn’t gloominess anymore, but “the focus of a serious man pursuing his goals.” (Yes, yes—I heard two girls whispering it with my own ears.) They explained away my reserved nature, too: “He just doesn’t have time for silly stuff.” And as for clubs: “He joined the student council, didn’t he? That’s where you get real experience of adult life!”

Ironically, almost all of it was true—the reasons behind it just weren’t quite what people thought. And now the girls trying to get my attention were chatting near my desk about anime and manga. Or which university to choose. Or what relationships in an ideal family ought to look like.

I was certain there were no crushes or anything like that. They were just curious, trying to “poke me with a stick” and see what I’d do. But their curiosity was gathering momentum!

Kiryu would sometimes come over for a quick chat, too. Then my buddy Ise made things awkward by deciding to keep her company for some reason. Gremory Rias-san was my Lady’s childhood friend and ally, so I didn’t think it wise to give her servant the usual Chiba Taro treatment. I showed Ise a little warmth, which encouraged Aika to talk to me now and then.

My classmate even gave me a list she’d put together herself of “great works,” both domestic and foreign, sorted by genre and subgenre, “so you won’t waste your time on bad ones, Chiba-san.” It touched me a little, and I no longer felt like talking to her as though I couldn’t be bothered. Kiryu definitely wasn’t a bad person. She had a peculiar sense of humor and some amusing little quirks, but despite everything, I didn’t feel any animosity toward her.

There was still a chance things would die down. I did my best to be as uninteresting as possible. But then our homeroom teacher fired the final shot. A ridiculous coincidence.

The entire kendo club was once again chasing Matsuda and Motohama out with piss-soaked rags—er, shinai. I happened to be on duty, and they came running straight into me. Well, I “apprehended” them and asked the indignant girls what the problem was. (Though it was obvious those two idiots had been drooling over the kendo girls as they changed.) I gave the pair a dressing-down and ordered them to show up the next day for disciplinary action, leaving the severity of the punishment for Shitori-sama to decide.

I thought that was that, but the girls decided to show me the now-legendary hole in the wall the Perverted Trio used for their grand, if horrifying, exploits. They weren’t showing me where to peek. They were asking, “Chiba-san, please, can the student council finally do something about this?”

I didn’t know why they kept mindlessly plastering over the hole, only for the perverts to just as mindlessly bore it open again, but I fixed the problem. I grabbed a big, long bolt from the storeroom, pushed it through the wall, tightened a nut on the other side, and bent the end of the bolt all to hell.

“If you see those two sneaking up to the wall with a pair of giant bolt cutters, then… beat the hell out of them. I’ll pretend I didn’t see a thing.” With that parting advice, I turned to leave amid the girls’ giggles—only to come face-to-face with my homeroom teacher.

“Chiba-kun, hello again! So you did decide to join the kendo club after all?”

“Shijimu-san.” I gave the woman a slight bow, praying she wouldn’t say anything she shouldn’t. Behind me, the girls bowed to her too. I sensed a hint of confusion from them at Shijimu-san’s question. “I was just helping them patch up a hole in the wall.”

“That one?” The teacher pursed her lips disapprovingly, though her displeasure wasn’t directed at me. “Good work.”

I’d already sighed with relief and thanked the Nine Heavens for their mercy… but apparently prayers like that don’t work for demons. Or rather, they do—but the results aren’t quite what you’d hoped for.

“Still, it’s a shame. Goro-san is a master renowned throughout Japan, and his senior student could really help our girls,” the… kind woman sighed sadly, blissfully unaware of what she was doing. Everyone at school knew how hard the captain of the academy’s kendo team pushed for us to win competitions. Hmm… Could this be our homeroom teacher’s cunning plan?

“Unfortunately, Sensei, I really don’t have any time,” I said, putting as much regret into my voice as I could. Now to make a quick getaway. I could feel the kendo girls’ bewilderment mounting behind me, especially that of their club president, who was also the team captain. Who knew how long before she got “fired up”?

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Student council paperwork, dojo practice, classes…”

I headed briskly toward the classroom building, careful not to make it look like I was running away. That was it. Now I was truly finished. Was I ever going to try acting like some kind of mentor to the younger generation again? Never!!!

To the kendo club’s credit—and to my relief—they didn’t come chasing after me. They didn’t pressure me, lure me in, or try to seduce me. At least, not yet. But more girls had joined the ranks of those taking an interest in me, and the rumors had spread beyond our class, gaining momentum and a curious audience.

There was still a slim chance the whole thing would fizzle out and I wouldn’t become another poor Kiba Yuuto, but… My senpai seemed to have dealt me the finishing blow.

The thing was, ever since that training match, Tsubasa had sometimes called me “Master”—half joking, half serious. Sona-san had given me permission to use her family’s training grounds, and Tsubasa had politely asked if she could watch me train and whether I’d “teach her a couple of cool techniques.” Of course, she hadn’t put it quite like that, but she’d hinted that she was interested in improving herself.

And Aika—the “Girl Who Brings Misfortune”—had heard Tsubasa call me “Master” and seen her cheerful smile and serious eyes. Once this whole saga of fascinating, exciting theories about me began, Aika had thrown herself into it with enthusiasm and delight. What would happen now? What would spring from the mind of someone who thought the best way to get into a new genre was to start with the worst?

Nine Heav—No, screw the heavens! Leviathan-sama, help your little sister’s servant!!! I want absolutely nothing to do with this particular kind of popularity!