When Supernatural Battles Became Commonplace: Volume 10 [Parts 1 to 6] by Kota Nozomi

Author:Kota Nozomi
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 2: Inherit the Presidency

“Hey, Jurai—are you on Team Chocolate Mushroom or Team Chocolate Bamboo Shoot?”

It’d all started with an almost unbelievably banal conversational prompt courtesy of Sagami. Normally, when I recalled mundane exchanges like that one, the details of when exactly the conversation had occurred would escape me, even if I could remember who I’d been talking to or what we’d been talking about. I think that’s pretty normal for most people, but in my case, there was one major exception to the rule: when I happened to remember a conversation with Sagami in particular, the content and time period of the exchange would both emerge from the depths of my memory in tandem.

The logic was simple: I would know in an instant when the conversation had taken place based on how we’d referred to each other. If he’d called me by my first name, Jurai, and if I’d called him by the nickname Sagamin, then it was certain beyond a doubt that the exchange had taken place during my second year of middle school.

“Neither,” I replied. “I really can’t stand that sorta stuff.”

“Oh, really? But they’re both so tasty,” said Sagami.

“No, that’s not—I mean, I like the chocolates! Both types are awesome!”

“Hmm? Well, now I’m confused. What exactly is it that you can’t stand?”

“It’s the whole premise that you have to be on either Team Mushroom or Team Bamboo Shoot,” I explained. “Like, how people act like there’s no choice but to line up behind one of two big factions and march off into a never ending chocolate war. There’s this pressure to pick one or the other that just... I dunno, it feels wrong to me. They’re both good, so why not just pick whichever one you feel like on any given day, y’know?”

Back during that period—the period where I’d been in the eighth grade and out of the eighth-grade sickness sufferer’s club—I would take any excuse I could get to be as stuck up, cynical, offhanded, and apathetic as possible, not to mention act like a total know-it-all. I’d fallen into despair after reaching the realization that all the fictional worlds I’d admired so deeply were nothing more than calculated works of crass commercialism made up by adults looking to further their business, and as a result, I’d come to hold those works, the diligent effort that the adults had put in to produce them, and everything else that fell in a broadly related category with disdain.

That included Christmas, a holiday that had been turned into a family or romance-centric event for the sake of commercial interests. It included Valentine’s Day, a holiday that had wound up dedicated to expressions of love for the sake of commercial interests. It included Halloween, a holiday that had been twisted to center around candy and costume parties for the sake of commercial interests. I’d come to see the creeping hands of commercialism in anything and everything, and the moment I’d realize that something was the product of a store or manufacturer’s sales scheme, the fun would be sucked right out of it.

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