“The tail, the claws, the eyeliner—why did you try to make yourself more like a cat? Speak!”
“E-Ehhh… B-Because… I mean, I’m a cat, right? A Werecat… so…”
“No. No. That’s not it at all! Everything about that is off—fundamentally wrong! You are Homo sapiens with cat-like traits, not actual cats!”
As I clutched my head and groaned, she looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “This guy’s mental state is seriously unstable…” She looked like she was about to cry, but she’d just have to endure it as tuition for now.
“…Let’s go back to the beginning.”
“Eh? Ah… yes… are you a tutor now or something?”
“The reason you and Saku-senpai came to be called Mythical Students, was because you were humans who happened to possess mysterious, inhuman powers.”
“That’s what I heard, yeah.”
“And now look at you, degrading yourself to some common animal. Are you not ashamed?”
“It’s cat. I degraded myself to a cat, thank you…”
“What, do you wanna wear a collar and be someone’s pet? Chew on catnip and puke your guts out?”
“A-Am I not being turned into some kind of horrible black comedy skit right now!?”
“That’s how ridiculous what you’re doing is. Get it?”
“I-I can’t help it! I mean, Werecat, you know? I mean… ugh!”
I didn’t miss the words Shishihara almost let slip.
“Want me to guess why you’re so lost like this?”
“Sorry, but I have a feeling this’ll hurt my soul… so go easy on me…”
“It’s because your Werecat abilities are too weak, so you’re trying to find purpose in being a beloved pet cat instead.”
“That’s brutal!!”
Shishihara wailed, tilting her head back toward the ceiling. Seems I hit the mark.
“Don’t call them weak! Some of them are actually useful, like—”
“Off the top of my head, maybe [Night Vision]?”
“Could you not steal my lines!?”
Apparently, she can see clearly with just one-seventh the light a normal person needs. Definitely a strength.
“So you’d be unstoppable playing sports at night without lights, huh?”
“In theory, yeah. Ever actually tried it?”
“…Obviously not. I’d lose friends.”
“My bad.”
I apologized without thinking. Humanity’s progress has always been tied to conquering darkness, after all.
“Another famous one is your sharp sense of smell, right?”
“Again, you stole my point—but yeah, exactly! So I can instantly tell when someone’s eaten curry! Or if the woman next to me on the train is wearing too much perfume, I’ll sneeze nonstop… Ugh, and after P.E., my own sweat bothers me so much… Scented deodorant just makes it worse, so I stick to unscented.”
“Heard a lot of beastfolk suffer from rhinitis.”
“Yep. Half occupational hazard, I guess.”
The light faded from Shishihara’s eyes. Sadly, even a keen sense of smell is useless among humans.
“Ah, but but! There’s one ability I love… Cats adore me! At cat cafés, they all come meowing over, like—I could totally be a hero, y’know?”
“That’s… uh… good for you.”
(My cat only comes near me at feeding time.)I tried to muster a faint smile, not wanting to crush her further—but her eyes dimmed again.
“Are you… thinking I smell like catnip or something?”
“Of course not. Look, I don’t—”
“It’s fine. I get it. My entire existence is just… mid.”
Shishihara gripped her skirt hem with both hands. We’d been talking about Werecats, but at some point, her subject had shifted to herself.
“Plus, I’m tiny. Being a Werecat isn’t something I’m proud of—if anything, it’s all downsides. New people always misunderstand me… like, [You must spend forever shaving, huh?] and I’m like, No?? It’s not even that thick??”
“…………”
“I got sick of feeling annoyed by that stuff. So I thought, Screw it, I’ll own it as my ‘thing.’ Late-night energy got me carried away, ahahaha… Pretty shallow, right?”
In the end, it was just her way of shaking off negativity.
So she wouldn’t hate herself any more than she already did.
“Shallow or deep, who knows?”
“Kōmori-kun?”
Let me correct myself. Shishihara wasn’t just cringe.
She knew how cringe she was—and was still searching for her own answers, her own identity. This was just a phase, the kind of aimless flailing any modern high schooler might go through. In ten years, she’d probably look back and call it “youth” or “good memories.”
—Sorry, but I’m skipping that script.
As we stood there, fists half-raised but with nowhere to swing, floating in awkward silence—
“Good. I’m glad you spoke your mind.”
Saku-senpai’s voice, clear and deliberate.
“If you’d kept up the act, I’d have only given you hollow advice in return.”
“S-sorry…”
“Don’t be. I was just thinking, [Wow, she’s worse than I imagined.] Now then—let’s respond to honesty with honesty.”
With a dramatic flourish, Saku-senpai placed a hand over her heart (which seemed to hold endless dreams).
“I take pride in being called a Succubus—but that pride is mine alone. Do you understand?”
“Eh, uh, yes! Um… Y-you mean… not letting others define your worth…?”
As Shishihara stammered, Saku-senpai beamed. “Perfect score!” I nodded quietly in agreement.
“I have zero interest in conforming to some generic [Succubus image] made up by strangers. Living bound to others’ expectations isn’t individuality—it’s the opposite. It’s suffocating.”
Saku-senpai’s speech sounded suspiciously like a copy-paste of the preachy junk in my head, but I wasn’t about to sue for plagiarism.
“S-so cool…!”
Shishihara gasped, starry-eyed. The moment blind admiration became something more. I’d follow this woman forever—her face screamed it.
If I’d said the same thing, it wouldn’t have landed. The weight was entirely different.
What she—no, what people crave isn’t logic. It’s charisma. The kind that leads. Average folks like me? We’ve never been in demand.
“So dumb…”
Feeling my raison d’être crumbling, I decided to leave (again) to print the survey forms (no printer here)—
“Honestly, the ‘ideal Myudents’ and the real us might as well be different species.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Think Strike Freedom vs. Strike Dagger. Similar names, but one’s a mass-produced grunt suit, the other’s a custom monster. Both have merits, but unless you’re a Ultimate Coordinator, good luck handling that paper-armored deathtrap—”
TLNOTE: Gundam SEED
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT GADGETIZEDPANDA.COM
“I didn’t understand a single word… Kōmori-kun, translate?”
Don’t use me as your subtitle machine.
“…Like horses vs. seahorses. Or crabs vs. crabcakes.”
“Ohhh! I love crabcakes!”
“Or marimo moss balls vs. marimo○ri.”
“Y’know, the souvenir kind… Wait, which one’s supposed to be me?”
“The ○ri one.”
“I just got sexually harassed!!”
A man who forgets idioms like [the moon and a turtle’s back] has no right to call himself sensible. Turns out I was the one whose mask slipped that day.
“Kōmori-kun, gooood morning!”
“…………Hey.”
Monday morning. As I arrived at class just before the bell, Shishihara bounded over, her orange (hair) tail bouncing. Her sunshine energy vaporized my drowsiness.
“Someone’s cheerful this early.”
“Totally pumped! Here—the survey! Filled it out over the weekend!”
“Ah, thanks.”
I took the paper as I set my bag down. After our talk, she’d asked for time to “think properly” before submitting it.
“Huh, you even wrote in the comments.”
“Of course. You helped me, after all!”
“Saku-senpai’ll be pleased… Wait, huh?”
There was a second page. Under Shishihara’s name and class, beside the laughable “[Literature Club ( )]” label, glared the ominous header: [Club Application Form].
“…What’s this?”
“Saku-senpai said she was ‘always looking for helping hands,’ right?!”
She clenched her fists, grinning (too brightly). Yeah, but that was clearly cult recruitment. I’d warned her repeatedly not to board this sinking ship—
“I told you it might get disbanded.”
“And I said we’ll work hard to prevent that! Besides, I’ll be crashing your clubroom anyway.”
“…Why?”
“Duh. To learn the art of seduction from Saku-senpai.”
“S-seduction…?”
What is this girl saying?
“You know that old slogan, ‘Cuteness can be crafted’? I bet sexiness can too. Combine a cat’s charm with a succubus’ allure—boom, one-of-a-kind! Call it Succucat!”
“You’ve already forgotten Saku-senpai’s wisdom.”
At this point, maybe the cringe was her charm. Suppressing rude thoughts, I skimmed the survey. Every checkbox was “Very Satisfied,” and the margins overflowed with round handwriting.
Ninety-nine percent was gratitude for Saku-senpai—but at the very end, tiny and cramped:
[Bat-boy was nicer than I expected. ← THX!]
A grade-schooler’s review. At least I’d somehow earned a line’s worth of value.
“Ah, sorry about that. Your name’s kanji’s hard, so I wrote it in katakana.”
“Shishihara… Actually, one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“My name isn’t Kōmori (bat).”
“…………Eh?”
“My name isn’t Kōmori (蝙蝠).”
“WHAAAT!?”
—
—
The Literature Club (Cat) had gained not just achievements—but a lively new member.
What seemed like smooth sailing was likely just the whims of a god who loves to build you up before tearing you down. All I could see ahead were trials.
Also check out my friend Localizermeerkat for more LN translations!
BUY THE SOURCE MATERIAL TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR !!!
Kindly click on the green button above and contribute to filling the green bar if you’re interested in having another LN from the request page translated. Also, every donation is being used to purchase the source material and to fund more English translations.
Please consider joining my Ko-Fi membership. By becoming a member, you’ll also gain access to 2-10 additional chapters of all of the novels from this site translated into English. Last but not least your support will also assist me in upholding the translation quality and speed. For more information, please follow the link.
Donation for faster release is always welcome
Additionally, I am now accepting translation requests.
