Chapter 29: …It would be rather problematic if you were to declare an end to this, you know?
Meiko’s house turned out to be an obviously underfunded, badly deteriorated dojo.
I had no idea what kind of martial art they supposedly taught there, but there were no disciples in sight, and the place hardly looked capable of generating income.
Honestly, I was impressed Meiko could even afford to attend high school.
Though according to her, today merely happened to be one of her rare days off—normally she spent nearly all her time juggling part-time jobs.
Now that she mentioned it, her body did seem unusually toned.
Whether that came from martial arts training or labor was impossible to say.
“I’m home~”
The moment Meiko opened the front door to the one-story house attached to the dojo, two elementary-school-aged children with features remarkably similar to hers poked their heads out.
The instant they saw Meiko—
—and then saw me standing beside her—
they screamed.
“ONEECHAN BROUGHT HOME A BOYFRIEND!!!”
“Seriously, shut up! If you disrespect him, we’ll get crushed in like three seconds!”
“What exactly do you think I am?”
After that, things somehow snowballed into me greeting Meiko’s parents as well.
…Much like Meiko, both of them were strangely well-built.
Honestly, neither looked like middle-aged adults at all. My father should probably take notes.
Well, I supposed running a dojo would naturally produce that kind of physique.
Even if there were suspiciously no students anywhere.
After brief introductions, we headed toward Meiko’s room.
My main impression was less “this feels like a girl’s room” and more—
“There are an absurd number of light novels crammed into these shelves.”
However, rather than recent releases, most of the books appeared to be somewhat older series.
“Unfortunately, as you can see, my family’s kinda broke,” Meiko explained awkwardly. “I’d love to buy new releases, but most of these are secondhand. Manga’s great too, but if you’re buying used stuff, light novels last longer for killing time. Manga’s something you borrow from friends.”
While making excuses like that, Meiko pulled a single volume from the shelf.
The pages had yellowed slightly with age, and the book carried the unmistakable wear of something that had been reread countless times.
“This one’s my recommendation.”
“And within this book resides a ‘perfectly ordinary person you could find anywhere?’”
“Well… yes. Though whether he’s actually completely ordinary is… kinda debatable…”
“That is acceptable.”
Even I didn’t believe I could learn everything from a single novel.
However, judging from Meiko’s wording, this concept of the ‘perfectly ordinary protagonist’ seemed to appear frequently in light novels.
If enough examples were gathered, categorization should become possible.
“I gratefully accept the loan. By when should I return it?”
“Anytime’s fine. I’ve reread it so many times I practically memorized the whole thing already.”
I looked once more at the borrowed book.
The title read:
Holy Remains Chromaconia.
Impossible to infer the contents from the title alone.
According to Meiko, older light novels often had titles like this.
“Then I shall contact you once I finish reading it… Do you possess a smartphone?”
“I may look like this, but I’m still a blooming high school girl, y’know!?”
With mock indignation, Meiko pulled out a somewhat outdated smartphone.
As we exchanged contact information, a small thought crossed my mind.
How long had it been since I last exchanged contact details with someone for reasons unrelated to profit or strategic interest?
Just as I prepared to leave after finishing my business, Meiko’s parents stopped me and invited me to stay for dinner.
Looking at the state of this household, I seriously questioned whether they had the financial flexibility to feed unrelated strangers.
Still, I decided this too would serve as a valuable opportunity to observe “normal life.”
That night marked the first time in my life I had ever eaten curry containing chikuwa fish cakes while being told it counted as seafood curry.
Throughout the meal, Meiko’s family relentlessly interrogated me about my relationship with her.
The problem was—
there wasn’t any particularly deep relationship.
We had literally just met beside an apartment garbage dump earlier that day.
Meiko skillfully dodged most of their questions, and I silently observed the exchange.
Occasionally, similar teasing conversations occurred between Father and my younger siblings during meals at my own house as well…
Was this what a normal family dinner table looked like?
For the first time, I found myself genuinely considering the significance of witnessing such a scene.
After returning home and finishing my basic nightly routine, I finally decided to read the “light novel” Meiko had lent me while relaxing after my bath.
Lying across the sofa in the living room, I casually flipped through the pages.
And almost immediately—
I was shaken.
“This is really supposed to be… a perfectly ordinary high school student?”
Well, the beginning was fine.
A plain, unimpressive male protagonist.
A childhood friend who was an absurdly beautiful girl far out of his league.
Fine.
That sort of thing could happen.
Physical appearance was, after all, one of the greatest weapons distributed to people entirely independent of their own will.
And since this was fiction, attractive character designs were naturally preferable.
At this stage, I still couldn’t dismiss it outright as an “abnormal environment.”
However—
the protagonist and his childhood friend were suddenly attacked by mysterious entities, and their peaceful everyday life immediately came crashing to an end.
…Which was a problem.
Without depictions of ordinary daily life, how exactly was I supposed to learn what “normal” looked like?
Still, I continued turning the pages.
The protagonist awakens mysterious powers and becomes a superhuman known as a “Chromaconia.”
The childhood friend is revealed to be targeted by a secret evil organization for unknown reasons.
The protagonist fights against that organization to protect her.
A righteous organization opposing the villains appears, granting the protagonist allies.
The protagonist is defeated by one of the enemy executives, grievously wounded, and watches helplessly as his childhood friend is taken away.
His allies explain the hopeless situation to him, yet even covered in injuries—even knowing he might truly die this time—the protagonist resolves to rescue his childhood friend anyway.
Ignoring the desperate attempts of his comrades to stop him, he infiltrates the enemy organization alone and discovers his childhood friend being offered as part of a mysterious ritual.
To save her, he throws everything away and charges forward recklessly—
predictably ending up in a hopeless life-or-death situation.
At that very moment, the power of the “Holy Remains” sleeping within the childhood friend awakens.
The Holy Remains choose the protagonist precisely because he genuinely cared for his childhood friend and was willing to sacrifice everything for her.
With his newly acquired power, the protagonist and childhood friend defeat the enemy executive together.
And finally, the two of them use the power of the Holy Remains they gained at the end entirely to undo the destruction caused by the evil organization.
The story concluded with the protagonist and childhood friend, now stripped of those powers, finally returning to their ordinary daily lives once more.
End of Volume 1.
“…This is supposed to be ordinary?”
After finishing the book, I found myself muttering the exact same thought all over again.
Though admittedly—
I had enjoyed it far more than expected.
The structure itself wasn’t particularly groundbreaking.
The deeper worldbuilding behind the many settings wasn’t explored in detail.
Instead, the story focused heavily on the emotional growth and internal struggles of the characters surrounding the protagonist.
In simple terms, it was a classic story.
One could even call it clichéd.
And yet—
somehow, it was genuinely entertaining.
From my perspective, I still couldn’t understand actions like the protagonist throwing everything away for the sake of a childhood friend who was neither family nor lover.
But perhaps…the idea that such behavior might actually be considered “normal” lodged itself in my thoughts like a thorn.
“Oniichan, what’re you reading?”
Perhaps because I was sprawled out reading in the living room, my younger sister Aya approached curiously.
Without a word, I showed her the title.
Her eyes widened in shock.
“Oniichan’s reading a normal book!?”
“…A normal book?”
She made it sound like I usually read deeply abnormal material.
Though Aya immediately clarified herself.
“You’re always reading stuff like Theory of Whatever or Studies in Something-Or-Other. But today you’re actually reading a light novel.”
“Even I occasionally read entertainment fiction.”
“Yeah! I think it’s good! If you read stuff like that, maybe you’ll finally become normal!”
That statement indirectly implied I wasn’t normal, little sister.
Still…
I see.
So seeing me read books like this reassured Aya somehow.
For now, I decided to temporarily set aside the question of whether the protagonist of this novel truly counted as “perfectly ordinary.”
There were still many aspects of the story I found questionable.
But perhaps borrowing more books from Meiko would be worthwhile.
Afterward, I messaged Meiko to inform her I had finished reading it.
“YOU ALREADY FINISHED IT!?” she replied in obvious shock, before timidly asking, “W-Was it good?”
When I honestly shared the analytical observations I had just reached, she responded with an atmosphere of exhausted disbelief.
“That’s not really a review… that’s a literary analysis report…”
Still, when I told her I wanted recommendations for more books, Meiko happily agreed.
Apparently her other friends rarely engaged with her hobby of reading old light novels, and she seemed genuinely delighted simply to have gained another reader.
And so, from then onward, a strange routine developed between us:
Meiko would lend me books featuring “perfectly ordinary protagonists,” and afterward we would discuss them together.
Whether any of this was truly helping me become more normal remained unclear.
And then—
roughly two months later—
Meiko told me that story.
“…Actually… once I turn eighteen, I’m getting married. So… we probably won’t be able to keep lending stuff back and forth like this anymore.”