40 - Club Room Interlude / A Clockwork Hash (1)

I wake up with a start, in the IWC clubroom.

My head in my arms, folded on the table.

Alex and Valerie are across from me, arguing about something.

"—Oh, Odd-kun's up," says Alex.

"Morning sleepyhead~," sings Valerie. "How was—"

I don't waste any time.

I sit up.

I crumple up a nearby piece of paper and throw it at Valerie's head. "Shut up! Valerie, your streams SUCK, and you can't zatsudan for shit, and people only watched you because you could draw, and for your busty-ass L2D model. ALL YOU DID WAS MAKE PUNS AND PUNS AREN'T FUCKING FUNNY."

Valerie, in shock, mouth agape: "I, uh—Okay? … Rude."

But I'm not done. "You make the most obvious, lowest common denominator puns and then go 'Tee hee, get it?' Like yes, dawg, we get it, it's just not funny. It wasn't clever. Or you go, 'Pun Not Intended', when it was clearly very fucking intended. Fuck puns. AND FUCK YOU."

In a rare show of chivalry, Alex comes to Valerie's defence, saying, "Dude, chill out. What's gotten into y—"

I turn toward him. "And you. You have way too many opinions about art and literature that nobody understands. You ever stop to wonder why!? Nah, couldn't be because you're a pretentious narcissist who's full of himself, right!? … You can't think, you can't fight, there's no discernible talent here. And also—"

(V: "Did he say fight? He meant 'write', right?"

A: "I dunno what he meant.")

"—also your haircut fuckin' SUCKS. And those glasses make you look like a nerd."

Alex, in shock, mouth agape: "I, uh—Alright? … Rude."

Then I walk over to Moeka, who's on the floor, coloring her latest drawing.

I bend down, take her crayons, and break them all in half.

"Hey!" she cries. "That's mean!"

I move on to Sunny, who's just sitting there, smiling at me. "Hey, Odd-kun! Nice day, isn't it?"

I stand there for a long time. Then: "… We never developed you as a proper character, so I don't know where to hit you so it hurts."

So then I end up just materializing a bucket of water, and soak his feet in it, shoes and all. "… But nobody can stand that wet sock feeling," I say. "Not even you!"

Sunny, smiling, gives me a thumbs-up. "You're right, Odd-kun! You really do know how to grind my gears! Ha ha!"

I sorta just give him a look of disdain, and then turn back to the others, who are all now standing in a circle around me, scowling, arms crossed.

(Sunny: "Oh, should I be scowling too right now? Okay, one sec. … Grrr!")

"… Sorry," I mumble. "I don't—I don't know why I did all that. It just felt like I was a 'nice guy' for way, way too long."

Alex raises an eyebrow. "10K words' worth of time again?"

"No," I scratch the back of my head. "It felt like almost twice that, this time."

Valerie: "You gotta stop eating so much candy right before you nod off in the afternoons, Odd-kun."

Alex: "Yeah, dude. … And no more sniffing Moeka's markers."

Valerie, shrugging: "I did the marker thing all the time back when I was in high school. And I turned out fine."

Alex: "(… No comment.) … Well, whatever. At least you didn't break the fourth wall again for no reason, Odd-kun."

Me: "Y-yes. I guess that's true."

*** DISCLAIMER: SNIFFING MARKERS CAN LEAD TO BRAIN DAMAGE. VALERIE IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER—PLEASE DO NOT TRY ANYTHING DEPICTED IN THIS WEBNOVEL, WHICH YOU ARE READING ON AN ANIME WEBNOVEL SITE.

AGAIN, YOU ARE READING A WORK OF FICTION.

YOU ARE ALSO SITTING IN A CHAIR. YOU ARE READING THIS WITH YOUR HAND ON YOUR CHIN. YOU ARE ALSO NOW BREATHING MANUALLY. ***

Moeka is still pouting at me, her cheeks puffed out.

… With a single hand, I squish her cheeks in, deflating them with a rude sound.

"Mooouuu!" cries Moeka, beating her fists against my leg. "Odd-kun-Mr-senpai-nii-chan!!!!"

"Okay, okay … Sorry, I couldn't help it. I'll get you some new crayons tomorrow, okay?"

Moeka stops hitting me, looks up at me, teary-eyed. "… Promise?"

"Yeah, yeah."

The rest of the day passes by without further incident.

And when we all leave for the evening, I notice two rolled-up scrolls, on the bookshelf.

… Have those always been there?

I unfurl one of them.

It appears to be a high school diploma, addressed to someone named "Kaya".

I check the other one, as well. Another diploma, this one for "Saya".

No idea who they are.

But I stand there for a long time, feeling like there's something here I'm not getting.

"… Coming, Odd-kun?" Alex calls out to me.

"Y-yeah," I say, rolling the diplomas back up. "… Coming."

*

A few days later, as Alex, Valerie, Sunny and I are sitting around the table, doing absolutely nothing, definitely not sniffing markers or anything like that, nope sir-ree, we hear Moeka come running down the hallway, calling for us.

We look up from the table, right as Moeka bursts through the door.

She runs toward Sunny, and hides behind him.

When we ask Moeka what's wrong, she points to the hallway.

… And a few seconds later, the cause of Moeka's terror glides stiffly into view.

Bell-shaped dress, with frills and laces. Matching parasol in one arm. Seams where her joints connect. A silver wind-up key on her back. Porcelain face frozen in an expressionless stare.

… It's a doll.

A life-sized, artificial doll come to life.

Sunny stands up, protectively shielding Moeka: "Hey, qu'est-ce-que c'est!? I won't let you hurt ma petite soeur, tabarnak!"

(Me, side-eye-ingly: "No, seriously though, Sunny … Where are you even from?")

The doll's hands creak open, palms offered in a placatory gesture.

She tells us she didn't mean to scare Moeka—that she was just trying to make sure the child was alright after tripping outside the courtyard. (Moeka rubs her knee, which is a bit scraped. Valerie goes to get a band-aid.) Apparently Moeka thought the doll was chasing her, and started to panic. The doll blames her own cold, expressionless face, which she can't help.

… Why did I summarize all that, instead of portraying it all in detail?

Well, because that entire exchange took us nearly fifteen minutes to get through.

First off—the doll speaks very, very slowly. ("Pardon … me. It … was not … my intention … to scare … the child …" Etc, you get the picture.)

Secondly, we have to constantly coax her along, because she tends to give a lot of short answers.

("Then what were you trying to do?"

"Help."

"How were you trying to help?"

"Make sure … she's alright."

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"She … fell."

… Etc, you get the picture. Trust me, dawg. You really don't want me to 'Show, Don't Tell' this shit.)

Anyway, the doll introduces herself to us as Lumo.

As she leaves the club room, she waves farewell at Moeka, and apologizes again for scaring her.

Moeka, peeking out from behind Sunny, waves back, shyly.

"It's nice … to meet … everyone … in the … Isekai … Waiting … Club …"

Then she bows, which takes almost a full minute to complete.

"Perhaps … we shall … cross paths … again."

And then she leaves.

*

The next few days, I excuse myself from club activities.

I spend the time wandering around outside. Sitting in the courtyard. Fictional character-watching.

I sit and look out at the water.

I dunno.

… I dunno.

I can't really explain it, but lately I've been feeling like I'm … missing something. What, exactly? No idea. But I feel like it's something important, something obvious. Like it's right under my nose and I just can't see it for whatever reason.

More and more, I catch myself staring at those weird artifacts that people have left in our room.

That office badge, with the fox girl.

Those two diplomas, with names I've never heard of.

And all the other similar belongings to people I feel like I should know but just don't.

A neatly folded chef's apron. A guitar pick. A bow tie from an idol costume. A small pointed, mage's hat. … The list goes on.

… What do these items mean? Who did they belong to? Why do new ones keep appearing in our club room from time to time?

I ask the others, but each time I'm met with the same, confused looks, and evasive non-answers.

"I don't know, man …" says Alex.

"I think they've, um … They've always been here, right?" says Valerie.

"Moeka doesn't know what they are. … But Moeka feels sad looking at them," says Sunny.

"Moeka don't know why Sunny-nii spoke for Moeka just now, but Sunny-nii is right," says Moeka.

The most frustrating part is, when I look at the artifacts, I always feel like I'm almost recalling something. You know that tip-of-the-tongue feeling, when you're trying to come up with a word that you know you know, but just can't access for whatever reason?

It's like that, when I look at these items.

I don't know.

I don't know, I just don't fucking know.

Hey, Reader—you'd let me know if I'm missing something, right?

You'd let me know if there's been more to all this than just, me and Alex starting a club, then Valerie joining, followed by Sunny and Moeka—right? You'd tell me if we've done anything more than simply goof off in the IWC club room this whole time, right?

I mean, if you've read this far, you've got your own understanding of the events that have lead up to this point.

… Is it possible that our memories don't match up?

That your accounting of the history so far somehow differs from mine??

Even though I'm the main character? And I'm narrating this fuckin' thing?

No, no—that's completely insane.

I'm being paranoid.

… You know what, Reader? Forget I mentioned anything.

*

Today, I'm sitting outside again, looking out at the water.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the gentle, yet stiff, rise and fall of a lace parasol.

It's Lumo.

I wave to the clockwork doll.

She waves back, mechanically.

… I don't really know why, but I invite her to come sit beside me.

So she does.