“Komori-kun, didn’t you make fun of succubi in the classroom before?”
I didn’t make fun of them. It was just an explanation.
“He’s an exception. He’s a weirdo who left his thoughtfulness, restraint, and conscience in his mother’s womb.”
“B-before being born into this world… don’t you have anything to say back?”
“I’m normally thoughtful and show restraint too. Except with Saku-senpai.”
Since I was unexpectedly brought into the conversation, I thought I gave a safe answer, but…
“See? He’s totally insensitive, right?”
“Really insensitive…”
For some reason, they teamed up against me.
“Anyway, you should avoid trying to appeal with that kind of character.”
I agreed with this too. Based on how she had failed during self-introductions, the class guys didn’t originally know much about or care about werecats.
It was obvious to anyone that pushing those elements would just be annoying.
Um, excuse me… Hehe…”
Shishihara raised her hand without a hint of guilt, sticking out her tongue in a playful “tehepero” gesture.
“I’ve kinda already been doing little cat-like things here and there… That’s okay, right?”
Instantly, Saku-senpai’s expression darkened. So did mine. Seriously, this girl…
“H-Huh? Like what…?”
Saku-senpai asked warily, as if opening Pandora’s box. The moment Shishihara cheerfully replied “Okay!”, it was clear this would go horribly wrong.
“For example, this!”
She fiddled with her side ponytail, making it sway. “See? Cute, right?” She giggled unprompted.
“…Cute…?” Saku-senpai looked genuinely baffled for once, glancing at me for help. Sorry, senpai—I’m just as lost.
“Look! Doesn’t it kinda resemble a cat’s tail?”
“O-Oh. Now that you mention it…”
“I changed my style after becoming a second-year! Even dyed it orange tabby—the #1 popular cat color!”
Her smile never wavered. Shishihara marched forward with absolute confidence—wait, was she seriously modeling herself after an orange tabby? That “#1 popular coloring” sounds like it came from a pet store catalog, not a salon.
“Oh, and my nails are cat-themed too! Soft pink to accentuate my natural nail color—”
Do your claws retract when you press your paw pads?
She kept rambling about “cat-like” makeup tips (that resembled no cat on earth) and dropping hot takes like, “Unlike dogs, cats are ○○, so I also—” (statements liable to start wars in certain circles).
“You’ve… put in a lot of effort, huh?”
Saku-senpai praised emptily, like congratulating a toddler for breathing.
“By the way… how’s the branding working out?”
“Pretty well! Though Rii-chan—ah, the coolest girl in class—totally brushed me off with a ‘Maybe tone it down?'”
“…She sounds like a good friend. This Rii-chan.”
“Yep! Unlike me, she’s the type to say exactly what she thinks. I respect her so much! The guys find her scary, but she’s actually super kind—”
Unaware that even her blunt friend avoided mentioning the real issue: Shishihara was committing a cultural taboo.
To put it bluntly—she was that cringey girl.
—I mean, think about it.
Saku-senpai, a succubus, doesn’t act “succubus-like.” Myudents aren’t obligated to embody their archetype. What Shishihara’s doing is like an American exchange student forcing down cherry pie daily—
that’s not “personality,” it’s missing the point entirely.
I could rant forever, but I hadn’t planned to say anything.
She’d eventually drown in her own tears—or rather, she was already failing her “second-year debut (?)”. This type only learns through pain.
I was content to watch… or so I’d thought.
“—So yeah, reception’s been great! Though werecats are kinda niche, so I have to explain my gimmick constantly. Unlike succubi—senpai, you’re so lucky people get it instantly!”
My chest tightened watching her freefall. She wasn’t a bad person—even I, barely her acquaintance, could see that.
But what unsettled me more was…
“True. If I were a succubus…………”
For a split second, Saku-senpai’s gaze drifted—not nostalgic, not regretful, just reflective.
I knew what memory flickered behind her eyes, what words choked in her throat.
“Being a succubus isn’t all fun and games, you know.”
That’s what her faint smile hid.
Saku-senpai was always like this: seemingly airheaded yet shrewd, her words measured, her true feelings locked away.
And because of that—we ended up in a disaster far worse than just “learning the hard way.”
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“—Ahem. Let me cut in here.”
I exaggeratedly cleared my throat. As I butted in, Shishihara—this misguided saint—tilted her head, unfazed.
“Hmm, what, what?”
Meanwhile, I was basically the villain about to crush her optimism, but Saku-senpai (weirdly smirking) gestured “Go ahead.” So I took the reins.
“At this rate, you’ll get labeled ‘delusional cat’ and ghosted by your friends.”
“!!??”
“To put it bluntly? You’re bombing just by existing.”
“Where’d your basic human decency go!?”
Her retort was sharp—unlike my brutally irrational jab. Saku-senpai laughed.
“Such harsh phrasing~” And yeah, this’d probably earn me Shishihara’s “Worst Person Ever” title. Maybe even a rep as some “HR nightmare with zero self-awareness.”
——But whatever. Everyone already thinks I’m tactless and heartless anyway.
“W-W-Wait, why the complete dismissal!?”
“Because there’s nothing to affirm. A real werecat would—”
“J-Just so you know, this isn’t some trendy Myudent scam, okay? I’ve got a certificate—want me to show you?”
“…It’s a diagnosis, not a certificate. And no one’s doubting that.”
Being a Myudent can be confirmed through a specialist’s diagnosis, but outside of special cases involving government support, it rarely comes up. Because of that, “self-proclaimed Myudents” run rampant on social media, and idiots even post pictures of their diagnosis papers like it’s a fashion statement.
“Those guys farming impressions with that stuff? I just look at them with pity.”
“…Yeah, honestly, I’m not a fan either.”
“You’re both so kind. I absolutely hate them, teehee~”
Saku-senpai jumped in too, unexpectedly agreeing with us.
“Shishihara, try to have a little more decency. You are the real deal, after all. Supposedly.”
“Y-Yeah… Wait! Are you saying I look like a fake even though I’m real!?”
“Oh yeah. You reek of newbie energy. Might even be dragging down the reputation of other Werecats.”
“W-Why you—!! You really said it now!”
Shishihara stood up, arching her back like a bow.
For a second, I hallucinated a hissing tabby with bared fangs.But calling her an “angry kitten” wouldn’t be fair—Because I knew I was picking this fight on purpose.
“We’re talking about my body, you know?! Of course I know everything about it, inside and out, smooth and slick and powerful and EVERYTHING!”
“Oh? Then how do you explain the cat-themed hairstyle, the flashy claws, the ‘Gao~!’ poses, or stirring up that whole cat-vs-dog rivalry nonsense…?”
“W-What’s wrong with that?!”
Her voltage was rising, and even I couldn’t stop myself. It was rare for me to feel this way.
I’ve experienced firsthand how unfair, flawed, and absurd the world can be.
By now, I don’t even get righteously angry about it.
When I see someone preaching justice into a megaphone on a street corner, I just feel hollow. “What’s that even going to change?”
But someone like Shishihara, standing right in front of me—someone who came here seeking help—I felt like my words could actually reach her.That I could maybe change something.
“Listen… just remember this one thing today!”
BAM!! I suddenly slammed the table and stood up.
“Hyeh!?”
The girl flinched like a startled kitten. I pointed right at her without mercy.
“A Werecat… is NOT the same as an actual cat!!”
—“Not the same! Not the same! Not the same!”
My roar, loud enough to shred my throat, echoed two, three, four times against the thin walls and windows of the clubroom.
What was left afterward, in the silence devoid of any intelligence, was—
“? ?? ??? ????”
Shishihara, blinking in confusion.If this were a meme, the background would be full of galaxies.She was clearly over her mental capacity.Meanwhile, Saku-senpai was clutching her stomach, laughing:
“S-So that’s the one thing you couldn’t let go of… ahahaha!”
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