Chapter 57: For Kirishiro-kun, the Natto Caramel Soda
Scratch, scratch. Tap, tap.
Inside the soundproofed room where not a single noise could escape, the steady sound of a pen moving across paper echoed softly through the enclosed space.
A smooth gliding sound.
A sharp tapping sound.
With those two rhythms accompanying me all the way, I finally reached the end.
“W-Well? How’s it?”
The clock was already approaching 5:50 PM.
This was Kuwajima’s final quiz.
After cramming knowledge into her head until it could barely hold any more, painstakingly counting every mistake she made while the seconds ticked away, enduring the constant sting of failure and frustration, she had continued studying without giving up.
Now, it all came down to this.
The number of questions wasn’t large, but the accuracy of the assessment was guaranteed.
Using past exam papers Meiko had somehow managed to obtain, I had calculated the required competency level and created the test myself.
When Taketsuru saw it, he’d muttered, “What’s this, some kind of generative AI?”
But honestly, a test like this wasn’t complicated enough to require AI.
If she could achieve a passing score here, there was a very high chance she would earn the actual credit as well.
That was the kind of test it was.
After finishing the grading, I looked up at Kuwajima and smiled.
“Kuwajima. I’m a man who takes responsibility for his words. You remember that, right?”
“!! Then that means—!”
A radiant smile exploded across her face.
Without the protection of the soundproofing magic, the volume of her voice alone would probably have gotten her permanently banned from the library.
Looking at her hopeful expression, I spoke gently.
“There’ll be next year, too.”
“NUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAHHHHHH?!?!?!?!”
And thus, Kuwajima died.
She was eighteen years old.
Incidentally, the footage recorded up to this point had reached eighty-two seconds in length.
I’d personally edit it and share it with all her friends later.
Naturally.
Shortly afterward, we left the library.
When we returned the key to the private study room, the staff member smiled warmly and said,
“Thank you all for being such quiet and considerate users.”
Every single one of us responded with an awkward expression.
Well, whatever.
Even though it was only six in the evening and the summer sun still hung brightly in the sky, Kuwajima looked gloomier than a creature of the night.
I called out to her.
“Hey, Kuwajima. I’ll buy you a drink. Go grab whatever you want.”
Then I added:
“For everyone.”
“I can’t tell if you’re treating me or making me run errands…”
“Don’t want it?”
“I want it.”
Apparently, free drinks were still free drinks regardless of circumstances.
After taking the thousand-yen bill from me, Kuwajima’s steps became noticeably lighter as she hurried toward the convenience store.
For someone who possessed enough embarrassment and self-consciousness for three people, she was surprisingly quick at recovering mentally.
As we watched her go, Meiko quietly leaned closer.
“So, Gouto-kun… just how screwed was Tae-chan, exactly? Depending on the situation, I might’ve had to steal—I mean, retrieve the exam papers…”
“Hm? Her final quiz score was ninety.”
“Huh!?”
Meiko’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“But just now you said she’d fail—”
“I said, ‘There’ll be next year, too.’”
I shrugged.
“I never said she’d pass. And I never said she’d fail.”
“Mui?”
Watching Kuwajima browse the refrigerated drink section in the distance, I continued.
The truth was simple.
Kuwajima was one of those people who could succeed if she actually applied herself.
She hadn’t spent years stuffing her brain with absurdly complicated and completely useless trivia for nothing.
Of course, the real issue was how much of today’s cramming she’d retain until the actual exam.
But even if she forgot half of it, she’d still be hovering around the line needed to secure the credit.
Barely.
Still, enough.
Which was precisely why I’d said what I did.
“What Kuwajima lacks isn’t ability. It’s a sense of crisis.”
I folded my arms.
“So if she’s finally developed one, it’s better to keep it alive until every exam is over.”
“Ah…”
“If I’d told her she was safely in the clear, she’d absolutely fail the course.”
“Tae-chan…”
“Coincidentally, my hallucinations agreed with me.”
“Tae-chan…”
I wasn’t particularly happy that my hallucinations and I had reached the same conclusion.
Still, it was better than disagreeing.
The hallucination’s evaluation after her final quiz had looked like this:
──────
“Kuwajima Taeko”
Economic History: Good
Statistics: Pass
If “Kuwajima Taeko” becomes overconfident here:
Economic History: Pass (only with supplemental report)
Statistics: Fail
──────
Honestly, after all the effort I’d put into teaching her, part of me wanted to complain that she still couldn’t reach an excellent grade.
But fine.
Good enough.
We still had four more classes threatening to devour her credits.
There was no benefit whatsoever in letting her relax now.
“So Kuwajima is going to maintain that sense of danger until every assignment and every exam is finished.”
I glanced toward the convenience store.
“Though in exchange…”
Kuwajima had finished choosing drinks for all four of us and was heading to the register.
Whatever she’d selected, she was smiling far more brightly than she had only minutes ago.
“So I have to give her the occasional carrot while using the stick.”
“Gouto-kun.”
Meiko looked at me with concern.
“Sorry to interrupt your villain monologue, but none of this is remotely normal.”
“Normal daily life requires a stable foundation.”
I answered without hesitation.
“If that foundation is about to collapse, then a little recklessness is acceptable.”
At this point, Kuwajima had become deeply embedded in my everyday life.
Losing her now would create more problems than keeping her.
If that meant dragging her upward through sheer force of will and reinforcing the foundation beneath us, then so be it.
…Though, in retrospect, perhaps Meiko had been right.
Maybe the correct answer had been leaving Kuwajima as a side character and not getting involved.
“But you seem kind of happy.”
“Happy? Me?”
“Yep.”
I tilted my head.
Teaching that hopeless woman who constantly spoiled herself didn’t exactly strike me as a source of joy.
True, it was a completely different experience from anything I’d dealt with back in high school.
But enjoyable?
Was it?
Well.
If Meiko said so, perhaps it was true.
After all, Meiko possessed frighteningly sharp insight.
“Hey, Kirishiro.”
“Hm?”
At that moment, Taketsuru finally joined the conversation.
He’d spent the entire day quietly focusing on his own studies, but now he wore an unusually serious expression.
When I gestured for him to continue, he fixed me with a solemn gaze.
“If I end up getting sent to another world again, would you come with me?”
“No.”
“I feel like if you became my commanding officer, we’d win wars much more efficiently. With wartime exceptions, I could probably make it to non-commissioned officer rank. Then, if we timed it correctly—earning achievements on the battlefield while removing unnecessary superior officers—”
“Taketsuru.”
I cut him off immediately.
“The war is over.”
“It is?”
“The war is over.”
Apparently, Taketsuru still harbored some rather intense feelings regarding his former superiors from the other world.
Fortunately, by the time he’d regained his senses, Kuwajima had returned carrying a plastic shopping bag.
“Sorry for the wait! I picked out the perfect drinks for everyone!”
She looked absurdly proud of herself.
Apparently, she’d agonized over the choices and was thoroughly satisfied with the result.
One by one, she began distributing the drinks.
“Meiko-san, Muscat Tea.”
“Thank you~”
“Taketsuru-kun, Lemon Squash.”
“Thanks.”
Then she turned toward me.
“And for Kirishiro-kun… Natto Caramel Soda.”
“Don’t mess with me, Kuwajima.”
Before I even accepted the drink, I grabbed her face.
My hand clamped around her mouth in a C-shape, squeezing her cheeks together.
“Fubuguuuuu!”
She emitted some kind of strange animal noise.
Ignoring it completely, I continued.
“Is this really how you thank the person who spent an entire day tutoring you?”
“Hemomemo. Hoihii kamo shirenai desu yo!”
Her words emerged as incomprehensible gibberish.
“Speak Japanese, Kuwajima. I don’t understand Kumamoto dialect.”
“Hahhara, hewo hanashite kudahai!”
“Then stop talking through your cheeks.”
After she began flailing wildly, I finally released her and let out a long sigh.
Seriously.
What even was this drink?
Why did a convenience store stock something called Natto Caramel Soda?
As I stared at the slightly brown-tinted transparent liquid, the hallucination appeared.
──────
“Natto Caramel Soda”
Origin: A local Ibaraki promotional campaign that somehow spiraled into existence.
Reputation: There are people who genuinely think this tastes good.
Comment: Natto is best eaten normally.
──────
“…Fine. Whatever.”
I extended my hand.
“You obviously bought something for yourself. Hand it over.”
“Fufu.”
Kuwajima puffed out her chest.
“In anticipation of that possibility, I bought Natto Caramel Soda for myself too.”
“…”
“To cut flesh and break bone!”
“Are you an idiot?”
“Please call me a genius.”
I desperately wanted to believe she was joking.
Unfortunately, there were indeed two bottles of Natto Caramel Soda.
“Seriously, Kuwajima?”
“I think Kirishiro-kun should learn how people feel when they experiment with curry toppings once in a while!”
“…Sigh.”
Another sigh escaped me.
Still, throwing it away would be a waste of money.
So I opened the bottle and took a drink.
…
……
Honestly?
If you ignored the smell, it wasn’t bad.
The rich salty depth of the natto combined strangely well with the sweetness of the caramel.
In a modern summer where everyone worried about heatstroke and electrolyte loss, the flavor actually felt oddly suitable.
If you ignored the smell.
Absolutely, completely ignored the smell.
Right as I reached that conclusion, Kuwajima took a drink from her own bottle.
Then she froze.
“Bweh… Wh-What’s this…? It’s awfu—”
“Kuwajima…”
The woman who had set a trap for me by sacrificing herself…
Had immediately fallen into her own trap.
As expected.
The three of us watched her with warm, exhausted expressions.
Meiko nodded approvingly.
“Yep, yep. This feels relatively normal.”
I glanced at her.
Does it?
Does it really, Meiko?
I’m not sure I’m qualified to say this, but…
Was this truly what counted as normal?
And so, under my supervision, Kuwajima somehow survived the remaining exams and reports that awaited her.
By the time summer vacation finally arrived, she was completely burned out.
Ordinarily, first-semester grades wouldn’t be released until just before the second semester began.
However, thanks to my hallucination’s highly questionable ability to somehow cheat and obtain future information, the result was already known.
Failed Courses: 0
Not a single one.
Kuwajima Taeko had survived.