There's no way a side character like me could be popular, right? Volume 2 by Sekaiichi Tomari Alejandro de Vicente Suárez

There's no way a side character like me could be popular, right? Volume 2 by Sekaiichi Tomari Alejandro de Vicente Suárez

Author:Sekaiichi, Tomari, Alejandro de Vicente Suárez
Language: spa
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Tentai Books


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I had a dream last night. It was probably influenced by yesterday’s events. I remember Hasaki and Touka were in the dream. For some reason, they were feeding each other their homemade lunches as a way to make up. Anyway, I ended up waking up earlier than usual. I get on the train earlier than normal, and as I’m heading toward school, I happen across Makiri-sensei. Our eyes lock for a brief moment, but she quickly averts her gaze. She’s probably still embarrassed about what happened the other day. I feel her—I mean, I’m still pretty embarrassed about it myself.

This is different, though—she’s an adult, not just some blushing schoolgirl, so I can’t bring myself to ignore this. She shakes her head a couple of times as if conflicted about something. Finally, she looks at me and says, “Good morning, Tomoki-kun. You woke up bright and early today, I see.” She sounds very on-edge right now. She’s not as composed as she tends to be.

“Good morning. Yeah. I woke up earlier than usual, so I decided to come in earlier. Why not?” I reply. Okay, I can’t fault her; I’m feeling a little tense, too. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.

“Sleep is important, so be sure to not skimp on it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Man, this is so awkward. I keep remembering what happened that day. What do I say? How should I apologize for it?

“By the way…,” she suddenly says with a smile, “I heard your results this year have been pretty good.”

Thank god she changes the subject. She seems calmer than before, and that manages to calm me down a little, as well.

“Yeah, it definitely felt like I did better this year. Good thing Ike gave me a hand last week,” I reply, trying to return to my normal self.

“Oh, he did? He got excellent grades—as per usual—so I guess you both worked hard for them.”

“How do you know my grades, though?” I ask. The only reason I can think of is the teachers spreading yet another rumor about me—probably speculating that I got those grades by cheating or something like that. Maybe that’s how she found out.

“It’s not that I have favorites or anything... but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care about you as much as the rest,” she says.

“What do you mean?” I ask. Maybe I got into some trouble without knowing about it, and she’s trying to offer her usual help? I’m pretty worried now. It must be written all over my face, because when she sees my expression, she quickly drops her smile and mirrors my look.

“W-Wait! What I meant is… It’s not what you think, all right?!” she stammers. Her cheeks are pink, and her eyes look a little glossy. I think she’s trying too hard to read me. Seeing her this worried is pretty embarrassing, though.

“...I got it,” I mumble.

“Did you really understand what I meant, though?” she asks, still nervous. I don’t—can’t—reply. After a moment of silence, she probably realizes I won’t answer and continues with, “Oh, well.



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