For Sakuna Koizuka, the library was a sanctuary.
It was great because there were many books, from novels to practical guides, that could be read for free, and above all, it was quiet with a low population density. Before exams, the top-tier students in the class would hold study groups in the library to create a youthful atmosphere, but it only became noisy during those times. Usually, the librarian would reprimand them, but it was in vain. They would quickly start chatting again.
Anyway, once the exam period was over, the library returned to its usual quiet state.
Sakuna lifted her face from the book she was reading and looked at the clock on the wall above the checkout counter. It was already past four in the afternoon. Sakuna closed Richard Dawkins’ What is Evolution?, took out her smartphone, and opened the Twitter app to check her slander account.
It was an account she had tweeted from almost every day, but last night’s tweet was the only one left, as all previous posts had been deleted.
―― All of the previous tweets were baseless slander. I apologize to all concerned parties and will delete all related tweets. ――
It meant the plan had succeeded.
During the lunch break yesterday, based on advice from Asaichi, Sakuna restructured the profile of the perpetrator in her mind. Stalkers were generally known to have strong tendencies toward self-love, according to the book she read. The perpetrator, with whom Sakuna had exchanged direct messages, had shown this tendency. The perpetrator quickly swallowed Sakuna’s compliments and seemed to interpret everything in their favor.
Sakuna couldn’t understand the emotional drive to defame someone they liked in order to satisfy their possessiveness, but she acknowledged that such behavior might be possible with a self-centered personality.
With that in mind, Sakuna sent a direct message to Chika Okimoto, the suspect who had never dated Akizuki, saying, “If you continue the slander, I’ll report it to your family and school,” and included her real name. As a result, a message of consultation arrived at the account where Sakuna acted as friend A. It seemed that playing the role of a convenient friend had worked. When she advised Okimoto, “If your real name is already known, it’s better to accept the demands and apologize,” Okimoto agreed.
As a result, Okimoto tweeted an apology and deleted all previous tweets.
Later, using the friend A account to subtly guide the conversation, Sakuna learned that Okimoto had admired Akizuki since middle school. According to Okimoto, Akizuki was a talent meant for the male idol industry, and increasing scandals was not in Akizuki’s best interest, so Okimoto had been “protecting” him.
Having faced this distortion of perception firsthand, Sakuna decided to be more careful in the future.
That being said, if such a distortion in perception was left unchecked, it could easily lead to the same mistake again. Sakuna spread false rumors, claiming that Akizuki was supposedly using drugs or was a genuine psychopath, and presented them as if they were true. As a result, she managed to lead Okimoto to think, “Maybe I can’t protect him anymore,” thus diverting some of Okimoto’s attention from Akizuki.
While continuing to monitor Okimoto’s progress through the friend A account, Sakuna gradually faded from the situation, and with that, the task was completed.
(This isn’t even good material for a novel…)
What Sakuna longed for was a sweet love story that made her heart flutter, not a story about a good-looking scumbag and his stalker. Who would even want to read such a thing? At the very least, Sakuna didn’t.
While thinking about this, she returned the book she was reading to the shelf and left the library, walking toward the classroom where Asaichi was waiting.
(Well, this is a happy ending, so next, I need him to teach me a more proper love story.)
As she entered the 2nd-year, Class 2 classroom, Asaichi was at his usual spot, resting his chin on his hand while gazing out the window.
“Good afternoon, Iwanaga-san.”
Asaichi turned toward Sakuna and greeted her, “Hey, Koizuka-san, good afternoon.” From Sakuna’s perspective, Asaichi’s face looked quite handsome. Though not as striking as Akizuki, Asaichi was still handsome enough. Akizuki had an androgynous, beautiful boy look, but Asaichi was more solidly built. His features were sharp, and despite being slim, he had a muscular frame. He had slightly darker skin and a sporty short hairstyle. When they stood next to each other, Sakuna had to look up, so he must have been around 180 cm tall. He exuded an aura that could easily earn him the title of “God of Love.”
But despite his athletic build, Asaichi had a generally calm demeanor. It was almost as if he could vanish into the sunset at any moment.
“I managed to handle the slander account,” Sakuna said, taking out her smartphone and showing it to Asaichi. Asaichi furrowed his brows, looking puzzled.
“What’s wrong? This should be a happy ending, right?”
“No, earlier, Akizuki came by…”
He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows more deeply.
“He said it might be over.”
“He came to consult with you again?”
“Yeah, he just cried and complained and then left.”
“Does Konoee-san know about the Twitter apology?”
“It seems she does. Akizuki knows about that account too, and he showed it to her, but it seems she just can’t accept it.”
“Well, then isn’t this just a normal breakup? Konoee-san must already dislike the consultant.”
“Well, he doesn’t seem completely disliked yet, according to him.”
“There’s always a gap between how men and women perceive things. I think it’s better to give up like a man and cut ties.”
“I’ve been watching the two of them recently. I can’t read faces and tell lies like you can, but I did see them laughing together, enjoying themselves. You know how there’s a look people show only to the person they like?”
“I’m sorry, I’ve never liked someone, nor have I been liked, so I don’t know that special look.”
“Also, it seems breakups often happen suddenly, like a switch is flipped. Even though he’s erased all the girls’ IDs and phone numbers from his phone, she still doesn’t believe him…”
“Is Konoee-san a ‘menhera’?”
“What’s ‘menhera’?”
“It’s originally an internet slang term for people with mental health issues. Medically, it refers to those with borderline personality disorder.”
“Aren’t you in the same class? Does she have that kind of personality?”
“Well, I’m not observing her closely enough to say.”
