Volume 2
Chapter 1: Is the literary high school girl pure? (Part 1 of 3)
● A Literary JK Girl is Refined ●○●
It’s been two months since I arrived in this world.
When I first got here out of the blue, I thought I was in for some serious trouble, but surprisingly, things have worked out pretty well.
I mean, aside from the slightly bizarre sense of chastity in this world, everything else is pretty much the same, so I guess it’s only natural that I’ve managed to get by. If I’d been thrown into some fantasy world and told, “You’re the hero!” or something, that would’ve been rough. But this world is gentle enough that even an ordinary guy like me can live a normal life.
“Fwaah… so sleepy…”
It’s Saturday today, so there are no classes. Apparently, there are some lectures you can take on Saturdays, but Koumi-chan said she didn’t sign up for any, and I’m the type who wants to rest on weekends anyway.
I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s 10:30 a.m. Considering I was working until late last night, I’d say I did pretty well getting up at this hour.
“Today’s plan… starts at 3 p.m., right? Hmm, guess I’ll make some lunch for now…”
I have something scheduled for 3 p.m. today. Rubbing my bleary eyes, I sluggishly crawl out of bed. As I do, I grab my smartphone from beside my pillow and notice a notification.
Koumi: “What’s that? That’s hilarious lol”
Koumi: “So, what kinda part-time job is Masato doing anyway?”
“…What were we even talking about?”
Ever since we exchanged contact info, Koumi-chan sends me messages like this two or three times a day. It’s the kind of communication I was used to in my old world, and it’s honestly kinda fun, so I’ve been keeping up with it.
“No way I can tell her about the bar, though…”
Since I turned down Koumi-chan’s invitation, she already knows I’m working a part-time job on Friday nights. But if I were to stupidly blurt out, “I’m working at a boys’ bar lol,” I’d probably get hit with, “Ew, gross…” or “With that plain vibe of yours…?” I’m not that clueless.
But then, a brilliant idea hits me.
“That’s it! This should be fine!”
I quickly flick my finger across the smartphone screen.
Masato: “Well, actually, I’m working as a private tutor.”
Perfect. No issues with that.
That’s right—I am working as a private tutor. Starting at 3 p.m. on Saturdays. If I tell her about this job, there shouldn’t be any problems. It’s a totally normal part-time gig. I close my phone and head to the kitchen.
Let’s see… I should still have two eggs and some bacon left. Maybe I’ll whip up some fried rice. Fried rice is the ultimate dish for a guy living alone, after all.
Ping.
Ping.
…?
I’m checking the leftover rice in the rice cooker when my phone chimes again. That’s weird—Koumi-chan usually doesn’t reply for three or four hours after sending a message. Do I even have any other friends who’d text me?
I head back to grab my phone, and there’s Koumi’s name again.
…Her reply came way too fast.
Koumi: “A private tutor?”
Koumi: “Don’t tell me… you’re tutoring a girl or something?”
…What’s the issue here? It’s true, like Koumi-chan said, that I’m tutoring a girl.
Masato: “Yeah, a high school girl.”
I send a brief reply and get back to cooking. Is it really that surprising? I feel like plenty of college students work as private tutors or cram school teachers.
I start scooping rice out of the cooker with a rice paddle when—
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
My phone, set to silent mode, vibrates on the table. That’s not a message notification.
It’s a phone call.
Even from here, I can see Koumi’s name on the screen.
…What? That’s kinda scary.
Past 2 p.m.
I leave my place and head toward my tutoring job.
“Man, I really can’t figure out what sets Koumi-chan off…”
After that call, I was trembling at how flat and emotionless her voice sounded. Usually, Koumi-chan has this cute, mischievous vibe, and just attending lectures with her is a feast for the eyes. But when something flips her switch, she gets downright terrifying. I’d love to be more careful around her, but I have no idea what triggers her, so there’s no way to avoid it.
In the end, I managed to smooth things over during the call by explaining the situation, and she reluctantly seemed to accept it after I promised to give her a proper explanation when we hang out on Monday. Phew. Girls are tough…
I look up at the clear blue sky.
Back in my old world, I never really struggled with communicating with the opposite sex. Maybe it’s because I grew up close to a girl when I was young. Thanks to that, even during the so-called awkward teenage years, I didn’t get embarrassed or shy around girls and could interact with them pretty naturally.
Because of that, I’ve had girls confess to me before, and I’ve even dated a few. But…
“Katari-kun, you’re just nice to everyone, aren’t you…? Sorry, I guess I misunderstood.”
About a month into one of those relationships, she suddenly broke up with me with those words. Growing up in a foster home, I was taught by my caretaker to “always be kind to others,” so to me, that was just how things were supposed to be. Her words hit me hard, but at the same time, I realized I had been treating her the same way I treated everyone else. And even after recognizing that, I didn’t feel like I could change my behavior just for a “girlfriend.” So I gave up, accepting that’s just who I am.
“Hurry up, hurry up! Everyone’s already at the park!”
“Wait for me!”
A group of energetic young girls runs past me, their voices ringing out. The weather’s nice today—perfect for playing at the park with friends. The girls’ figures grow smaller as they dash away, eventually disappearing from sight.
…No point getting all sentimental about the past. Time to let it go.
Shaking off the bittersweet memories and my gloomy mood, I quicken my pace toward the station.
A few minutes later, I arrived at the nearest station. My tutoring job is about five stops from here.
The tutoring gig started about a month ago. Back then, my only income was from the bar, and Seira-san wasn’t coming by as often as she does now (though lately, she’s been covering a lot, which has let me live a bit more comfortably). I was feeling like I needed a bit more cash.
When I first started at the bar, I was working multiple days a week to get the hang of it, and that was fine. But Aika-san told me, “Doing too much of this kind of work isn’t good,” so I cut it down to just Fridays. Aika-san’s been covering a lot of my living expenses, but I felt bad about relying on her so much. When I brought it up, she got this super excited look and said, “Oh, well, you’re smart, Masato, so I’ve got a favor to ask.” That’s how I ended up with this tutoring job.
Apparently, through some connection from Aika-san’s work, she met a woman whose daughter is aiming for my university. They wanted me to help her study.
So, for the past month, I’ve been tutoring a certain high school girl. Oh, and the other day, Aika-san casually mentioned, “I put the tutoring payment in your account~,” and when I checked, it was an insane amount. Like, what? That’s not normal for a student’s tutoring fee, right? But Aika-san just grinned mischievously when I asked. I’m guessing she’s padding the payment to make my life easier, but still… I owe her so much.
“Alright.”
I get off the train and walk for a bit until I reach the house where I tutor. It’s got an impressive gate, and after walking through a small garden, you reach the front door. It’s clearly a fancy place. I’m about ten minutes early, but that’s fine.
I press the intercom.
“Excuse me, it’s Katari. I’m here to tutor Shiori-san.”
“Yes~!” comes a cheerful voice, followed by the click of the gate unlocking.
I thought this last time too, but their setup is wild.
The front door opens, and there’s Shiori-chan’s mom.
“Masato-kun, hello! Thanks for coming! Shiori’s probably already in her room upstairs, so I’ll leave her to you!”
“Yes, I’ll do my best.”
I take off my shoes and step inside, making sure to line them up neatly. You never know where someone’s judging your manners.
I head up the stairs to Shiori-chan’s room. There’s a cute sign on her door, and I knock twice.
“Shiori-chan? It’s Katari. Can I come in?”
“Y-Yes, it’s fine.”
Her clear, soprano voice comes through. Shiori-chan’s voice is so pretty.
I open the door and see a slender girl with long, glossy black hair tied in a half-up style with a light blue ribbon, sitting in a chair.
She really is the epitome of “refined.”
“Hello, Shiori-chan.”
“Yes, hello.”
…Huh, she’s not in her school uniform today. Up until now, she’s always been in her uniform during our lessons. Wonder what’s up.
“Oh, you’re not in your uniform today?”
“Y-Yes, that’s right. I thought it seemed a bit odd to wear my uniform on a day off…”
She swivels her chair slightly to face me. Yup, the black short-sleeved top paired with a beige pinafore dress—sort of like an overall that flows into a skirt—really suits her refined personality perfectly.
“Wow, that looks great! It really suits you. I’ve only ever seen you in your uniform, so this feels kinda refreshing.”
“…Hehe, thank you, Masato-san. Your casual clothes are pretty cool, too.”
“Flattery won’t reduce your homework, you know~?”
I set my bag down and start pulling out the study materials.
It’s hard to imagine now, but when I first met Shiori-chan, she was wearing glasses and had her hair in braids. I’m not sure what prompted the change, but by my next visit, she’d switched to this hairstyle and contact lenses. I guess her mom didn’t mention that her tutor would be a guy, so she must’ve been caught off guard that first time.
Her mom’s got a bit of a mischievous streak…
“Alright, shall we get started? Oh, wait, it’s still five minutes early.”
“Yes, you’re right. What should we do?”
“Since we’ve got a moment, how about a little chat before we dive into studying?”
I’m not a fan of being too rigid. This is our fourth session, and Shiori-chan still seems a bit nervous. I’d rather help her relax. Compared to the other girls I’ve met since coming to this world, she’s definitely one of the more composed types. Yuka, for example, is always so nervous she ends up stumbling over her words. She really doesn’t need to stress so much…
My eyes catch a paperback book on Shiori-chan’s desk. Right—she’s a literary girl.
“Oh, what book are you reading today?”
“Um, well… this one by Tasaka-san…”
“Oh, that one’s great! Summer Fell from the Second Floor… Like, what kind of life do you have to live to come up with an opening line like that?”
Honestly, I wouldn’t call reading my hobby, but I’ve dabbled in some well-known books. It’s nice that this world shares some of the same literary classics as my old one. Having read the same books can really help spark a conversation, you know? Though, with Shiori-chan being such an avid reader, my casual knowledge probably doesn’t measure up.
“Haha, yeah, it’s really something…”
Huh, she doesn’t seem that into it… Maybe she can tell I’m just a casual reader? This is tough.
About an hour later:
“Here, there’s another way to read this part. This symbol jumps to here, so the correct way is…”
Since my university is in the humanities, I’m tutoring Shiori-chan in Japanese, social studies, and English—three subjects in total. We spend about an hour on each, making it a three-hour session. With breaks in between, we usually wrap up around 7 p.m. Right now, we’ve finished English and moved on to Japanese.
“Um… huh?”
She seems to be struggling. Yeah, this part’s pretty tricky. Oh, I’ve got an idea.
I stand up and move behind Shiori-chan, leaning over to look at her textbook.
“Alright, Shiori-chan, I’m going to trace it with my finger. Follow along with the reading order…”
This should make it clearer, right?
But then, Shiori-chan’s hand freezes.
Huh?
“…Ohf.”
What?
Did I just hear something? Was that Shiori-chan?
She abruptly stands up with a clatter.
“Sorry, I need to use the restroom…”
“Oh, uh, sure. Sorry about that.”
Her face is turned away, so I can’t see her expression as she heads to the bathroom. Crap, did I upset her?
…Oh, maybe I got too close.
Yeah, having a guy you’re not that close with lean in like that would probably feel uncomfortable. I got careless because of the different gender dynamics in this world, but that was a mistake. My bad.
A few moments later, Shiori-chan returns. Her face looks a little flushed—is she okay?
“Sorry about that. Let’s continue.”
“Y-Yeah, sounds good.”
Phew, she doesn’t seem too mad. I was worried I’d ruined her mood.
Determined not to mess up again, I sit next to her to resume the lesson.
“Huh?”
Shiori-chan looks at me with a puzzled expression.
What?
“Oh, no, please, go right ahead and lean in from behind. Really lean in. Like, completely drape yourself over me, okay?”
What?!
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