• Abstract and Figures
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Chapter 1: Some day, even Zaimokuza Yoshiteru will stumble across an easy job that he can do, probably. As anyone on this planet would know, Chiba rarely saw snow during the winter. Obviously, that didn’t mean it wasn’t cold because it was cold; it’s winter, after all. I could even claim that Chiba’s frigidity far surpasses any other winter country. Of course, I really had no idea since I had never spent the period between the end of January to February anywhere else besides Chiba. The only visible comparison I could go by was the display on the thermometer and the weather report reporting on the below-freezing weather, but regardless, I wouldn’t actually know how cold it’d really be until I experienced it for myself. On the other hand, it’s another truth that the number on the thermometer wasn’t always representative of how cold it’d be in Chiba. In the world, there existed something called a heat index. You experienced something first-hand, perceived it, learned it, and for the first time, you’d actually feel it. As a juxtaposed example, right now, I could feel a growing divergence between the number on the wall thermometer and my heat index. The sole reason for this was due to a single male student in front of me. Sweat was excreting from all over his body even though it’s the peak of winter, his mouth was convulsing, and he was wiping off the sweat at his brow with the back of his hand covered with fingerless gloves. “…Mu.” When he groaned with a heavy voice, that student—Zaimokuza Yoshiteru—hung his head. As he was doing that, he buried his head into the coat he was seemingly fond of and closely resembled an avant- garde monument. He looked like he could be mistakenly placed at the entrance of a tower apartment for a high-class street in the Musashi Kosugi area. With just that single groan, Zaimokuza went quiet and the Service Club returned to a space of stillness. Aside from Zaimokuza and me, there were other people present in the club, but every single one of them was absorbed in their own business: one was reading a book with a cup of tea in one hand, another was fiddling with her cellphone while chomping down on tea cakes, and the last one was adjusting her bangs looking at a compact mirror. “…Muuuuun.” Zaimokuza moaned again and looked up at the ceiling. This time his voice was, unlike earlier, feeble. But even so, he received no response. When not a single person—not even one—reacted, Zaimokuza incessantly moaned over and over again. Eventually getting fed up with that, a brief sigh came from the diagonally opposite corner of the table where I was sitting. When I glanced in its direction, the Service Club president, Yukinoshita Yukino, placed her cup onto a saucer and pressed against her temple. Yukinoshita made a gander at Zaimokuza and then slid her eyes over to me. “…For the time being, shall we ask what his business is?” “Ehh…? But the only one who can talk with chuuni is Hikki, though.” The one who reluctantly answered while chomping down on rice crackers was Yuigahama Yui. With her body collapsed forward on the table, she turned her head towards me. Well, for Yukinoshita and Yuigahama to give the suddenly intruding Zaimokuza some kind of response despite how long it took them, it could be considered as a form of kindness. But the problematic one was the one who had him completely ignored the entire time while gazing into a mirror, Isshiki Iroha. Then again, why are you even here? I mean, it’s not a big deal or anything. I won’t ask or anything. Isshiki didn’t give Zaimokuza so much of a look. After she checked her bangs, she took out hand cream from her pouch and began skin maintenance on her hand while humming. She spread the cream along her thin fingertips and a citric smell filled the air. That reminds me, Zaimokuza and Isshiki don’t really know each other, do they? Though, acquaintances or not, it’s likely Isshiki wouldn’t give Zaimokuza any time of the day. Naturally, the opposite held true. Which leaves… I thought, but Yuigahama who had been leaning forward on the table asked, “Hikki, why don’t you ask him?” Yukinoshita nodded as if it was a given. “…That’s true. Hikigaya-kun is originally the one responsible for these kinds of matters, after all.” “Don’t put me in charge just because you feel like it…” The only one I was responsible for was Totsuka-tan, you know? I was such a crazy fan that I’d create some fans of him and cheer for him at a live concert, you know? But the cuteness of saying Totsuka- tan was abnormal. In any case, the sole individual in this room who could establish communication with Zaimokuza was me. I was vaguely aware of how troublesome it was going to be, but he didn’t look like he’d leave the club unless I spoke to him. “Zaimokuza, what did you come here for…?” I braced myself and asked. He then shot up his face, showing a somewhat happy smile. “Ohh, Hachiman! What a coincidence this is!” “No, you really don’t need to act like that…” “Hapon, as you say. I am currently in a bit of a bind as you can see…” Zaimokuza stopped for a moment. He corrected his posture as if to begin anew. As the one listening, I ended up doing the same. “Do you recall our exchange about my worries of becoming a publishing editor?” “Yeah. Of course, this also happens to be the first time I’ve heard about this.” Here he goes, blurting out something completely outrageous again… I thought. Yuigahama who had been listening nearby murmured, “Wasn’t it something about light novels or something before…?” Man, Yuigahama sure was nice to actually respond. Compared to the other two, they were more or less giving him the cold shoulder. Even Yukinoshita who had shown some interest earlier saw no value in listening to Zaimokuza’s answer just now and flipped the page of her book, going back to reading with a nonchalant look. As for Isshiki who didn’t have any interest in him from the beginning, she had a complicated face as she was adjusting her eyelashes with a curler. However, what Yuigahama pointed out was certainly right. Zaimokuza’s dream should’ve been to become a light novel author. There, too, was a period when he claimed he wanted to become a game writer. But he immediately jumped ship and went back to wanting to become a light novel author again. His wishy-washy nature made me think he’s far more suited to being a politician. In any case, I looked at Zaimokuza to see why he had the sudden change in heart and he crossed his arm with a difficult face. “Hmhm, it is because light novel authors are the dregs of the entertainment world. It is a job that does not require a foundation to start, a job that anyone can do. Quite frankly, no one would be envious of me even if I became a light novel author and light novels are treated as trash just for being light novels…” Zaimokuza looked dejected as he spoke, but when he popped up his eyes, he stated with a solemn voice. “…And that is where I realized something.” “A-And that is…?” Despite sensing something ominous in the glint of his eyes past his glasses, I had to ask. Upon doing so, Zaimokuza violently jumped to his feet, knocking his chair back in the process. “To write is to be criticized! To rest is to disappear! In the world of business, you are but a roadside rock! Is there value in such a job!?” His powerful voiced clamored throughout the room as well as in my head.When the echoing stopped, Zaimokuza quietly took his seat again and the room went back to being quiet. Despite his powerful voice, the room continued to act unconcerned. Even Yuigahama who had been listening to Zaimokuza moments ago had went back to fiddling with her phone. The only one who could lend an ear to Zaimokuza’s tale at this moment was me. I might’ve been used to being alone, but even this solitude was a little excruciating. “R-Right… You sure know your stuff…” I was at a loss at how to comment on his sudden outburst of lamentation and responded with something appropriate. Zaimokuza grinned. “It is because I saw it on the internet.” Wow. The internet is so amazing. The internet has, like, eeeverything. Our exchange thus far had stimulated my satiety center so much that I was feeling bloated, but Zaimokuza continued on with his wonderful opinion. “As I mentioned earlier, publishing editors are much cooler! Not only are they able to have a stable life, they are one with the industry of creativity. It is more or less encroaching on the domain of anime creation! With this, I will be able to marry a voice actor! Fuahaha!” “You must be drunk on Happy Meals with all those happy thoughts you have in your head…” That would never happen even if Christmas, New Years, and your birthday happened on the same day. Heck, throw in Halloween and Valentine’s Day while you’re at it.

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