The next day.
Inori Yuzuriha's first official day as an enrolled student—and exactly as she'd predicted, her behavior the day before had guaranteed that the quiet campus life she wanted was not going to happen.
Schools in this era had long abandoned paper textbooks; all coursework could be completed through virtual classrooms accessed on a phone. Even so, the administration still required students to attend in person. It was partly to keep them honest and partly to reduce idle time that might lead somewhere undesirable—keeping the juvenile crime rate down.
Inori was still a few steps from the classroom door when she heard the noise inside.
"Matsuri! What—what exactly is going on with you and Inori?!"
Hanon Kusama's voice, hushed and urgent, eyes the size of dinner plates.
There were plenty of other gazes sliding toward their corner of the room too, and every one of them made Matsuri deeply uncomfortable. If exams weren't coming up she'd have seriously considered calling in sick for a few days and waiting for things to blow over.
"That was… Inori just did that on her own…"
Matsuri put on her most innocent face, which involved maximally wide, maximally pitiful eyes.
"Inori?!" The nickname made Hanon's jaw drop. "So you really are in that kind of relationship with her! I can't believe it, Matsuri—I thought you were interested in Shu, but are you actually—mmph, mmph—!"
She'd started saying too much. Matsuri went red and clamped both hands over her mouth before the rest could escape.
"We just live together, that's all!"
She'd been trying to emphasize the innocence of the situation. She'd chosen to do it by raising her voice.
The classroom went very quiet.
Every face in the room—boys and girls alike—was now turned toward Matsuri with the expression of people who had just witnessed something miraculous. This girl, who was usually so passive, so introverted, so easily flustered—was living with Inori? So the photo wasn't doctored after all. The ones who'd doubted it were now staring at what looked, very much, like confirmation. Quietly hitting the jackpot while the rest of them weren't looking—that was Matsuri Tsugumi for you.
"It's not what you're thinking! She—I—she—"
Matsuri spun around to explain herself to someone, anyone, but everyone had already found something urgent to look at that wasn't her.
"Hanon, you believe me, right? We're just friends, she had some family stuff come up so she's staying at my place temporarily—you believe me, right?"
"Mm-hm~" The light reflected off Hanon's glasses in a way that obscured her eyes entirely. Her smile was very serene. "I understand. Of course, of course~"
"Don't worry, I don't judge! You and Inori make a great pair, Matsuri—you have to take good care of her!"
"Ugh—"
Matsuri gave up.
She really was an idiot. She'd been trying to clear her name and had instead, in a moment of blind panic, announced the living arrangement to the room—on top of the photo already circulating online. At this point there was nothing she could say that anyone would believe.
Inori caught all of this and blinked once, unimpressed, then pushed the door open and walked in.
She'd planned to come in with Matsuri, but Matsuri had insisted on separating after getting off the train—avoiding any appearance of arriving together. The results of that strategy were now visible.
Inori's face wore a half-asleep expression. She moved through the classroom as though she'd heard nothing and seen no one, making her way unhurriedly past the board, down toward her seat.
Matsuri spotted her and turned an even deeper shade of red—and immediately stared fixedly in the opposite direction, refusing to look at her. Inori, casual and familiar as some carefree boy who'd known her all her life, reached out and tapped her on the shoulder as she passed.
Then smiled.
"Morning~" she said. "Darling~"
Her voice wasn't loud. But the room was very quiet, and every syllable landed with perfect clarity.
"CONFIRMED! Inori and Matsuri are REAL—!"
"AAAAAHHH!"
The classroom exploded.
——Oh, this is so much fun.
In the privacy of her own head, Inori was absolutely losing it. If she'd been at home right now she'd have doubled over laughing without any attempt at dignity—but she had a public image to maintain, so she kept it contained to a deeply satisfied internal monologue while cataloguing the current state of Matsuri: face buried in both arms on the desk, ears to the tips of them bright red, curled up like a small, wronged animal retreating into itself.
——Serves you right. That's your punishment for thinking I had feelings for Shu Ouma.
Inori strolled past her, pleased with herself in every possible way, and settled into her own seat. Beside her, Shu Ouma spotted her, went approximately the color of chalk, and immediately redirected his gaze to a point far away.
"Have you made up your mind?"
She didn't look at him. She addressed the words to the air in front of her. Shu twitched like someone had fired a starting pistol next to his ear. He wrestled his nerves into something like submission and managed, in a voice that barely wobbled:
"Inori… could you meet me at that place again after school today?"
"You've decided?"
She turned to look at him then—and gave him a warm, unhurried smile.
"Yeah."
Shu nodded. Not entirely convinced by himself yet, but close enough.
Good enough. Inori was satisfied. She had reasons ready—plenty of them—to make Shu useful to her.
...
After school, Inori walked Matsuri to her train, then said she had a few things to pick up and peeled off. Matsuri, still dreading running into classmates, was more than happy with the arrangement.
"Have you decided to be my ally?"
Inori walked into the derelict building in the quarantine zone, still working through a beef sandwich in small, deliberate bites, and aimed the question at the boy who'd been waiting for what felt like a long time.
"Well… I don't really know much about what Funeral Parlor is like," Shu said slowly, "but if Inori chose to stay with them, they must be good people. Right?"
It sounded less like a question and more like a prayer he was offering to himself.
"Who knows—they are a terrorist organization, after all."
Inori dragged a chair over and sat down, continuing to eat at her unhurried pace.
"..."
Shu's brow furrowed. He stared at the floor, clearly miserable—he'd been up most of the night, and it showed—but at least he'd made his choice.
"I'm not very perceptive," he said finally, voice quiet. "The way I see the world might be completely different from everyone else's, and I've always been quietly anxious about it, trying to match what other people seem to want from me… I've always thought I was useless. I've always been afraid of changing things."
"But, Inori!" His voice found some energy. "You were willing to invite me—I was genuinely moved! I couldn't believe that even someone like me could be needed by you… so what am I saying, I—the point is, you gave me courage. I want to be someone you need. So please, Inori, let me join Funeral Parlor!"
He'd worked hard to rein in his nerves, and it hadn't entirely worked—he was still visibly flustered, for two reasons: she was the idol he'd long admired, and she was also the Funeral Parlor operative who'd come very close to having him quietly eliminated yesterday. What he couldn't figure out was why she wanted him specifically. But somewhere in last night's restless thinking, he'd landed on a theory: maybe he had some special ability he hadn't noticed yet. And beyond that—if he joined Funeral Parlor, they'd be bound together, uniquely connected within this school. If he worked hard enough, performed well enough, maybe he could win Inori over.
Just like in all those light novels he'd read: a breathtakingly beautiful girl transfers in out of nowhere, invites what looks like a perfectly ordinary boy into a mysterious organization, and what unfolds is a whirlwind of school life, the extraordinary, and romantic comedy. Yes—Shu Ouma had decided this was absolutely his chance.
"There's one condition, Shu."
Inori answered with perfect casualness. She finished the sandwich, pulled out a hand wipe, and cleaned her mouth and fingers.
Then she looked at him, and smiled.
"I need you to do something for me first."