There are words that have remained in my heart.
That voice was terribly hoarse, and it repeats in my mind with a growling echo.
“Don’t you think the most attractive kind of person is someone who can protect what’s important to them with their own power?”
No matter how awful the person who said them was, if the words are right, they stay with you.
A strong woman who can protect the things precious to her with her own hands.
That’s the kind of attractive person I want to be.
I think there are various interpretations of ‘attraction’.
Separate from one’s spirit or policy, there are things like, for example, gestures. Style. Humor. Fashion… The power to attract others has many multifaceted elements.
I, a female university student in the prime of my youth, was in the middle of a grand search for the “cute” that society demands.
I gazed outside through the window of the research lab.
A piercingly clear blue sky spread out, and the fallen cherry blossom petals carpeted the university campus. After looking out the window for a while, I returned my gaze to the room’s interior.
“Professor, would you like some coffee soon?”
There was no reply. Instead, all I could hear was the fierce clattering of keystrokes.
Of course, this is an everyday occurrence. I switched on the electric kettle and placed the coffee grounds in the filter. Then, after finishing the series of tasks, I tapped the play button on my smartphone as a diversion.
‘Halo-halo! It’s everyone’s Mayu-mayu, Kamimura Mayu! Today, I’m going to introduce a liquid foundation that can suppress skin redness with just this one product! No primer needed, and no need for layered application! It makes it super easy to achieve a natural makeup look!’
In the center of the display, an angel in a sailor uniform was waving with a smile.
Double-lidded eyes with prominent tear bags, and eye makeup that looked like she’d just been crying. Pale white skin lacking a healthy glow. Blush blended into her natural skin, and a glossy lipstick on her fresh lips.
It was packed with the ideal “cute” that girls long for.
The owner of the voice put a drop of foundation on the base of her thumb and applied it with a practiced hand.
‘Look, see how naturally it blends in! It solves your skin problems in one go! I use it sometimes too, and it’s super useful because my morning makeup is done in no time! Here, look, look. Doesn’t the area around my eyes look super natural?’
Immediately after, the angel leaned into the camera, and her fine-textured skin was shown in a close-up.
I couldn’t help it; my internal “cute-meter” shot past the maximum in a second.
“Hiii… wait, I can’t take it anymore, he’s super cute…”
Overcome by such adorableness, I couldn’t help but let out a voice and writhe. I’m at my limit. It feels like I’m keeping an angel inside my phone. The portable pet-raising games that were popular when I was a kid crossed my mind.
Before long, the electric kettle began to make gurgling noises. So as not to be drowned out by the sound, I turned up my phone’s volume. The angel’s clear, transparent-like voice echoed at high volume.
“That’s too loud, Himari.”
The annoyed voice that flew my way pulled my thoughts back to reality.
I stopped the video and apologized to the owner of the voice—the professor.
“Sorry, was the volume too high?”
The professor let out an exaggerated sigh and rested her cheek in her hand with a fluid motion.
“How many times are you planning to repeat that video?”
I approached the professor, smartphone in hand.
Tapping the play button right next to her desk, a smile once again bloomed on the screen.
‘Actually, I’m wearing this makeup today! Everyone watching, please give it a try! And now, to finish things off, I’ll give you my best Mayu-chan smile. Ready…’
A bright smile bloomed on the screen.
“This is a boy, you know? And yet he’s this cute? Look, look at this sailor uniform! And that final Mayu-chan smile! Isn’t he super cute?”
“Is ‘cute’ the only vocabulary you know for praise?”
“What a cold remark!”
Struck in the chest as if stabbed, I recoiled while clutching my breast, but the professor continued, ignoring me.
“Besides, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for that right now.”
She pointed at the computer display and spoke in her usual rapid-fire manner.
“A moment ago, there was another new post on ‘Died’.”
“‘Died’…? Ah, you mean that malicious account.”
Lately, a certain account on the microblogging-style SNS ‘RootSpeak’ has been causing a stir. The ominous string of characters, ‘Died’, is its account name.
It’s an extremely malicious account that announces—and sometimes carries out—antisocial acts in unspecified locations.
“This time, there was a threat to plant a bomb at an amusement park in Chiba Prefecture. It must be their busy season, too. I feel sorry for the operating company.”
There have also been videos of various nuisance acts, like drawing graffiti on walls with paint, or throwing garbage and raw eggs at buildings, but it seems the administrator has yet to be identified.
“RootSpeak needs to get serious about strengthening its security. A service that can’t trace a user just because they used an anonymous browser is unthinkable these days.”
“Ah… even if it’s a new service, they can’t be neglectful about that. In fact, it’s because it’s new that they need to take measures. Crimes using SNS are on the rise, after all.”
Some people claim that the crime rate has risen dramatically with the spread of the internet.
Others say that it’s just that crimes that were previously invisible have now been brought to light.
Either way, the world is full of dangerous things.
In that case, I’d at least like to view a peaceful world on my screen… Thinking that, I once again tapped the play button on my phone. With the volume turned down, of course.
“Your face looks like it’s melting.”
“Ooh… My apologies…”
This won’t do. I slapped my own cheeks, pan pan, to pull myself together.
“My facial muscles just loosen up on their own. Maybe it’s a relaxation effect?”
“If you could get such benefits just by browsing video sites, people in this world would have a little more peace of mind.”
“That’s such a perfectly reasonable opinion that I can’t say anything back.”
At my words, the professor observed me with her usual “Hmph.”
“The ‘Mayu-channel’ again? It’s suitable as a benchmark target, but there’s no point in watching the same video over and over, is there?”
In response to her question, I explained the situation.
“There haven’t been any new video updates lately. It seems he’s been targeted by a malicious stalker… There are a lot of worried comments in the video’s comment section, too.”
“Hmph. So as a result, you have no choice but to watch the same video?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t understand, but I accept it.”
She read my mind completely. Was I that easy to read?
“It’s a pity, isn’t it? This kid is still in high school.”
“By their very nature, influencers are often the target of envy, admiration, jealousy, and spite.”
“I don’t understand people who slander others online… No one gains anything from it.”
“It means that there are people who are saved by bashing others. There are far more people in this world than you think who try to satisfy their self-esteem by kicking someone else down.”
“I know that, but it’s an unpleasant reality…”
As I said that, a memory from a certain day was resurrected in my brain. As I was lost in thoughts of the past, I was pulled back to reality by the voice of the professor, who seemed to have noticed my state.
“Remembering the old days again?”
“…Sorry. I know there’s no point in worrying about it, but…”
“Don’t worry about it. The ‘answer’ you’ll be satisfied with won’t be found so easily.”
My gloomy feelings eased a little. The professor glanced at me, pulled an IQOS from its holder, and put it in her mouth. I should not mention that the university campus is, in principle, non-smoking.
“However, that’s a separate issue. Playing the same video dozens of times all day is bordering on madness. Influenza is one thing, but what are you doing letting an influencer melt your brain?”
“That’s a bit of a violent expression… Ugh, but I can’t deny it…”
Influencer.
People who disseminate information through websites and SNS, and have gained influence in the process.
He, who smiles inside my phone, is one of them.
Social Networking Service—SNS for short.
A system that allows you to connect with people all over the world through the internet.
The world is now said to be in the ‘era of 100 million content creators’.
Everyone is unconsciously broadcasting mundane information to the world, like “I’m hungry,” “My senior at my part-time job is annoying,” or “I broke up with my boyfriend yesterday.”
That’s why phenomena where topics explode in popularity—‘going viral’ or ‘getting flamed’—occur.
This place, the Yamabuki University Faculty of Sociology’s ‘Shirasagi Seminar’, is where we research the problems, case studies, and various troubles related to this new form of communication.
“I’ll leave the coffee here… Hey, Professor. I just cleaned up, so please put your cigarette butts together properly.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you listening?”
“Hmm.”
To my calls, the professor only let out a slight sound. Her fingers slid ceaselessly over the keyboard. She was in the middle of writing a new academic paper to be presented at the next conference.
As I put away the serving tray, I watched the professor who was glaring at her computer.
A simple off-the-shoulder top, and skinny jeans bought at a fast-fashion brand’s mass-market store. She says things like, ‘Why would I need to take the time to dress up just to shut myself in the lab and write a paper?’ but I still find myself jealous of her fresh skin.
She’s a heavy smoker, and her diet is unbelievably chaotic, so why is she so beautiful? This world is unfair.
I’m on the taller side for an adult woman, but the professor is even taller, and on top of that, she maintains a slimmer figure than I do.
She has a more toned body than I do, even though I have a consistent exercise routine, so it leaves me with no leg to stand on. Even the sight of her exhaling menthol-scented smoke looks as perfect as a painting.
This is the talented woman who, at a young age, rose to become a professor in the Faculty of Sociology at Yamabuki University—Shirasagi Reika.
The Faculty of Sociology at Yamabuki University is divided into various majors, but among them, the professor’s specialty is the analysis of social psychology and community formation in media society.
And I, while belonging to her seminar, have been entrusted with supporting her as an assistant.
They say there’s a thin line between a genius and a madman, but this person has a catastrophic lack of life skills. Even today, when I entered the lab, used heat sticks were scattered all over her desk, and countless academic books were piled on the floor like the stone mounds on the riverbed of Sai no Kawara.
This was actually an improvement; just a little while ago, copy paper, books, and droplets of spilled coffee were scattered on the floor. It was enough to make me think, “Is this modern art?!” in my head.
When the professor is concentrating, her attention becomes scattered, so she constantly bumps her hips and legs into the piled-up books, but she pays it no mind, so a jungle of books inevitably forms. My actual job as an assistant is pretty much just tidying the lab and serving tea.
I still have this much to clean up…? Just as I sighed, the professor let out a small “Ah.”
“There are no snacks.”
With her finger hooked on the cup’s handle, she wore an expression as if she had lost her house keys.
“Ah… now that you mention it, we might be out. The university is crowded today, so I’ll go buy some later.”
“I can’t drink coffee without snacks.”
“Like I said, it’s crowded because of the open campus, so after I finish cleaning and some time has passed—”
“I want to eat gateau chocolat. I want to eat it now.”
“—Yes, yes. I’m on my way.”
And so, as always, I was the one who ended up giving in and heading out.
Despite having achievements that warrant calling her a genius, she’s disastrously bad at tidying things up, and she can’t drink coffee without sweet snacks. She has some surprisingly childish sides to her. Or rather than childish, maybe stubborn.
I rattled the poorly-fitted sliding door of the lab and was about to step outside.
And then—thump!—an unexpected impact on my body.
“Oof!”
Because I had rushed out, I had a head-on collision with someone who was on the other side of the door.
We were pressed together. The other person was hiding their eyes with a cap pulled down low.
From the faint glimpse of the bridge of their nose and their small chin, I could tell they were quite a beauty.
A single ponytail, and perhaps perfume, a faint scent of vanilla.
“…I-I’m shorry.”
The person who bumped into me, having grasped the situation, jumped back with a start.
The cap fell off with a soft plop.
From beneath it appeared an androgynous face, with no makeup on, yet with well-defined features.
A flushed, bright red face, and large, double-lidded eyes.
An oversized hoodie that made their body line look bigger, tight black skinny pants that emphasized their slender legs—a very simple coordination.
They could have passed for a baby-faced female university student, but there was something off about the aura they gave off.
A high school girl… maybe?
“…U-Um… Is this the Faculty of Sociology’s ‘Shirasagi Seminar’?”
They asked timidly. A thin… but lower voice than I expected.
“Yeah. The Shirasagi Seminar is here, but… um, are you here for a tour? Or do you have business with the professor?”
On guard, I spoke carefully, and the person showed a relieved expression.
Then, they spoke in a pleading tone.
“Could you please help me?”
A transparent droplet was welling in the corner of their eye.
For something like that, the answer is already decided.
“Let’s go inside for now. I’ll listen to your story.”
As I invited the sudden visitor in, I voiced a slight question that remained.
“But, can I confirm one thing first?”
There was something I was really curious about.
The androgynous features, the unisex clothing. The bright red face the moment they pulled away from my chest.
And above all, their voice was low.
“Are you, by any chance, a boy?”