I Accidentally Triggered The Sociophobic Bookworm Route! (Part 3)

Savoring a well-earned victory, I take in the sights as I roll the cart through the library.

The library at Saishin Academy is fairly luxurious—roughly the size of a quarter of a soccer field, taking up the back half of the right wing on the first floor.

The space is filled with the scent of wood and vanilla, though unsurprisingly the latter has yet to lure Yuka in.

Towering rows of bookshelves divide the room into a labyrinth of corridors, boasting a collection of nearly one hundred thousand books. No matter what kind of student you are, there’s something here for everyone—whether you just want to goof around with friends and read some manga, or you want to go full scholar mode with advanced texts to start prepping for your university major.

Breaking up the shelves are several open sections with tables, desks, study rooms, and computers—there are even a few aquariums and vivariums.

The general rule of thumb though is the farther back you go, the quieter, more serious, and more isolated the library becomes.

Which is exactly why we’re heading all the way to the very back.

As I continue rolling the cart along, about halfway through, I come upon a peculiar sight—the girl from this morning, now sitting at the help desk with a library committee sash around her arm.

I give her a friendly smile and wave as I pass by.

She reaches out like she wants to stop me, like she has something to say—but once again, she struggles. She fidgets, nervously glancing around, opening her mouth several times only to close it just as quickly. In the end, she simply gives me a small bow as I continue on my way.

The real question is: who thought it’d be a good idea to put someone who struggles this much to communicate at the help desk of all places? Is this a form of bullying? A byproduct of incompetent staff? Or perhaps I’m on some kind of hidden camera show?

Whatever the answer, I should probably consider filing a report with the student council later.

As we finally make it to the back, I park the book cart out of view and start removing some of the books.

The two green strands of hair on top of Haruki’s head pop out like a sprout, forcing me to stifle a chuckle. I lean down and whisper.

“Psst…the coast is clear.”

Haruki rises out of the cart with a quiet gasp for air, then climbs out, stretching after being curled up for so long. He holds out his hand for a fist bump, whispering back:

“I can’t believe we just did that. We’re so badass!”

“I mean, ‘we’ seems like a strong word. You mostly just sat there.”

“I like to think it was a team effort.”

“Fair enough.”

“I have to say, it was interesting seeing things from your perspective—what it’s like walking around the school without having a bunch of friends trying to talk to you all the time.”

Ouch.

Didn’t have to put it like that.

I grab the books and worksheets I stashed away, and we sit down across from each other at a table.

“Speaking of, Haruki, there’s actually something really important I’ve been wanting to talk to you about these past few weeks.”

“I’ve been feeling the same way.”

“Wait…really?”

“Yeah…to be honest with you, Tomoya, I feel like you’ve been keeping something from me.”

Ah crap, did he catch on to what happened with Yuka? Or has he actually understood how I’ve been feeling all this time—and it’s really just the harem that’s been keeping us apart?

“It feels like…there’s been a growing distance between us, Tomoya. Every time I see you, you’re either writing some report or running around dropping something off.

Then there are all these odd events—like when Yuka ran off looking upset and you ran off shortly afterward. Or that whole bathroom incident—I heard from one of the girls that you had Ichino lie to send them away, then had Tanaka escort me to you. And now today, hiding me in a cart and sneaking me into the library.”

He pauses.

“And whenever I ask you about any of it, you kind of dodge the question.”

He gives me a dead serious stare.

“Tomoya…are you…”

He glances around then leans in.

“…training to become a secret agent?”

What.

“Haruki, you can’t be seriou—”

Haruki cuts me off, looking genuinely upset with me.

“Don’t lie to me Tomoya! I can handle the truth!”

…

…

…

“...Yes. I’m under a special government training program to become a secret agent.”

“I knew i—ow!”

I smack him on the head with the worksheets.

“No, I’m not training to become a secret agent, numbskull.

Look man, I’m not joking around here. There’s actually something really serious I’ve been wanting to talk to you about since school started—and I’d appreciate it if you could hear me out.”

In a rare moment, Haruki’s expression goes from carefree positivity to genuine concern.

“Wow…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this serious, Tomoya. This must’ve been really weighing down on you, huh?”

“It has. The problem is, it’s a delicate situation, and I’m struggling to find the right words to communicate how I’ve been feeling. I’m just so terrified of ruining our friendship…but deep down, I know I have to take that risk. It’s that important.”

“Nothing can ruin our friendship, Tomoya. You can tell me anything.”

I let out a slow breath and steady myself.

Okay…here it goes.

“Haruki, we’ve known each other for a long time—hanging out ever since we were little kids—but recently…I’ve begun to feel—”

Suddenly, my eyes lock onto a large pile of hair that pops up next to Haruki.

“—Hairy…”

“Hairy…? Oh—uh, well, you see, Tomoya, when a boy hits a certain age, his body starts to go through…changes.”

“NO!”

I point beside him.

“Me? Oh, I don’t know if I feel comfortable talking to you about my—”

“For the love of—right next to you!”

Suddenly, a startled high-pitched yelp comes from the pile of hair.

“Oh…Ohhhhh!”

I sigh in frustration, dragging a hand down my face.

I turn to the pile of hair, softening my tone.

“It’s okay, Komori. You can take a seat—we don’t mind.”

Well, I actually do mind, but it is what it is.

Komori walks to the side of the table, struggling to climb into the seat before eventually plopping down.

She looks in my direction with what I…think is a determined expression.

Komori Kotori (古森 小鳥), as previously mentioned, is an incredibly short girl with extremely long bluish-purple hair. However, I may have undersold just how long her hair really is. In fact, she’s grown it out so much that the only parts of her body still visible are from her nose to her shoulders, plus the lower halves of her arms and legs, poking out of the mass of hair.

A quiet, gentle, almost angelic girl, she’s the exact opposite of most of Haruki’s harem and, as a result, struggles to be around them—choosing instead to admire Haruki from afar.

However…it seems she’s here to see me instead?

A small breath escapes her mouth, and it seems like she’s finally going to speak to me—but once again, she stops herself. Shaking her head, now with that determined expression, she reaches into her book bag and pulls out a homemade bookmark, sliding it across the table.

She mimes getting knocked back, then reaches out a hand for…a handshake? But before I can respond, she points at me, then presses her palms together in a small bow.

“Oh, are you giving this to me…as a thank-you for earlier?”

In a rare moment, her face lights up with a smile, and she nods.

“Well, thank you, Komori. I’ll make sure to get good use out of this.”

She puts a hand over her heart and lets out a sigh of relief, as if a great weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

“You know, Komori, if you find it hard to communicate with me—and if it would make things easier—I don’t mind a little charades every now and then.”

She clasps her hands together and nods a few times with a look of serious approval.

“The same goes for Haruki too, I’m sure,” I say, motioning toward him.

She tilts her head in confusion, then does a double take when she sees Haruki.

“Gapaaa!” she gaps, frozen in shock, clearly not having realized he was here.

“Hi, Komori!”

She blushes and starts fidgeting nervously, before finally managing to squeeze something out.

“H-hi...” her voice is soft, almost like a mouse squeaking.

I’m not sure who I should be more proud of—her for getting a word out, or Haruki for actually managing to coax it out of her.

“We’re studying for a pop quiz for history class. Would you like to join us?”

“Haruki, that was supposed to be a—”

I see her looking at me, hands clasped together, perched on the edge of her seat, the faintest bits of her eyes appearing through her bangs, eagerly waiting for confirmation like she’s never wanted anything more in her life.

“Hngh.”

My heart can’t take it—she’s just too adorable to refuse.

I relent, letting out a quiet sigh.

“We’re studying the Meiji Restoration. Would that interest you?”

Her face sparkles with enthusiasm. She bows a few times before hopping out of her seat and running off.

She comes back with a book.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

Eventually she brings so many that I feel compelled to step in.

“Uh, Komori? I get your enthusiasm, but I don’t think we can read all those in a single lunch. How about we just start with the textbook for now? Would that be alright?”

She nods understandingly and climbs back into her seat.

Most of lunch passes as we study, with Haruki’s lack of historical knowledge becoming immediately apparent, alongside Komori’s love of reading. It feels like there isn’t a single thing she doesn’t know—she answers every one of Haruki’s questions.

Granted, in a way that requires a little…

...translation on my end.

“Wait, I thought the rebels’ whole slogan was ‘Revere the West, Welcome the Foreigners', like they wanted to buy all their steamships or something.”

Komori shakes her head.

She forms a triangle with her hands and places it atop her head, then performs a magisterial stroll in place. Next, she grabs at the lapels of an imaginary robe, looking out over her loyal subjects. Finally, she turns around, becoming one of them, and bows deeply.

I take my best guess.

“Revere…the Emperor?”

She confirms it with a nod, then moves on.

She points at the three of us and gives a thumbs up, then points at a group of students in the distance and wags her finger, shaking her head. Her expression sharpens into anger as she thrusts her arm outward in one clean motion—finger pointed straight ahead—unmistakably reminiscent of a certain videogame lawyer shouting an objection in court.

Haruki looks clueless, and I’m a bit stumped myself, but as I try to guess, something clicks in my memory from our middle school lessons on the subject.

“Reject…the foreigners? Oh! ‘Revere the Emperor, Eject the Barbarians’—I actually remember that one!”

She gives a small round of applause and nods a few times.

Haruki looks even more confused after hearing the answer.

“But then what about the Meiji constitution? I thought we made a big deal out of wanting to be like the foreigners. Didn’t we just copy the United States’ constitution? Or was it Britain’s?”

For what feels like the millionth time, she shakes her head at Haruki before miming the correct answer.

She grabs a book, flipping through the pages, and eventually lands on a mention of the United States. She points at it, then closes the book. She mimes a friendly person waving, then turns and blows gently in their direction. She pivots back, wiggling as if being carried off by the breeze.

“Too flimsy?” I guess.

She pokes her finger into her cheek.

“Too soft?”

She enthusiastically nods her head, then grabs another book. Flipping through it, she stops at a mention of Germany and points at it. She closes the book and sets her stance: elbows raised, fists near her collar, marching stiffly before snapping into a formal salute.

She looks over at me, but when I hesitate, she grabs the book again and knocks on its hard cover.

Ah. I get it.

“Tough! Tough like Germany!”

She throws her thumb over her shoulder.

“Oh—but earlier, Prussia! They thought the Western democracies were too soft, so they modeled the constitution after Prussia instead!”

She throws her arms up in the air, celebrating the correct guess.

“Alright!”

I hold out my fist for a fist bump.

She hesitates for a second, then smiles and knocks her fist against mine.

“Man, you’re really good at this, Tomoya…you aren’t cheating, are you? It’s like you already know all the answers.

“Pretty sure it’s just that you’re bad at this,” I chuckle before turning to Komori.

“I’m actually really impressed at how good you are at this, Komori.”

She gives a thumbs up and a slightly smug, joking smile.

“Maybe I’m just better at showing than guessing. Let me try.”

Haruki puts two fingers out, then starts wildly chopping with an imaginary sword. He turns around and wags his finger at the sword wielder, before pulling the sword away from him—though he accidentally drags it into his abdomen instead of off to the side.

I’m pretty sure I know what he’s going for—the Haito Edict—but I can’t resist the urge to deliberately give a wrong answer as he mimes.

“Carrot. Chopping. Not allowed. Must commit seppuku (ritual suicide).”

Komori falls back in her seat silently laughing—holding her stomach and kicking her legs.

Haruki sighs with a defeated smile.

“Okay, guess I’m not any better at that either.”

I turn to Komori, then raise a hand.

“Wait, wait, hold on—I’ve got one.”

I tap my head, then point at Haruki’s. After that, I knock on an imaginary door. Finally, with my palms flat, I cross my arms into an X, signaling that nobody’s home up there.

The three of us start laughing, though we try to stifle it with our hands over our mouths so as to not cause a disturbance.

I glance down at my phone, and see that lunch is almost over, bringing an end to what might be the most fun I’ve had in weeks.

“Ah man, lunch is almost over.”

Komori’s expression shifts—with her seeming even more bummed out than I am.

Seeing this, Haruki tries to change the subject.

“Do you really like this period of history, Komori?”

She shakes her head, then mimes loneliness—walking her fingers to a pile of books, pulling one out, and pretending to read. She lifts a frown into a smile with her fingers, then quickly reads through book after book. Spreading her hands near her head, she pushes them outward as if her knowledge is expanding—a side effect of her using reading to cope with loneliness.

I quietly hit my fist on the table in pained sympathy.

What kind of monsters would make this precious little angel feel lonely?

Every time she smiles, something deep within me tugs at my chest—a compulsive urge to raise her like a daughter and make sure she ends up at a good university in a respectable field.

If only I could take all her burdens onto myself. If only there were a way to ease her social anxiety.

I’d do it without hesitation.

I glance over at Haruki, who looks equally moved, wiping a single tear from his eye.

Komori recoils in shock at our reactions.

Haruki looks back at her.

“How about this, Komori—why don’t we meet back after school to study some more? What do you say? Would you be willing to help us out?”

A massive smile spreads across her face. Her eyes only slightly peek through her bangs, but even so, I can tell they’re filled with hope and joy.

She nods enthusiastically.

“Awesome. Well, we gotta get going. See you later, Komori!”

She waves as Haruki heads off.

Leaping down from her seat, she moves toward the lost book cart, starting to take the books back to their proper places.

However, I quickly step in to stop her.

“Wait, Komori?”

She turns around.

“Could you let me take that book cart back to the student council room? It’s hard to explain, but we actually need it for Haruki to be able to visit again. I promise I’ll bring it back later.”

She looks a bit confused—but agrees.

“Thank you Komori, I really appreciate it. I had a lot of fun with you today—more than I’ve had in a long time. Way more than I would have had if it was just me and Kojima studying together. I really look forward to hanging out with you again later.”

I give her a smile and pat her head.

She looks at me, a little stunned.

After a moment, her expression shifts into something more hesitant as she brings her hands close to her chest and opens her mouth.

“M-m-me t-too.”

“That makes me really glad to hear, Komori. I hope you have a lovely afternoon.”

I wave goodbye and grab the cart, rolling off with it.

I know I wasted my opportunity to talk with Haruki, but as someone in the same boat as her—someone who’s been unable to wrest time with him away from the harem—I think it was only right that I shared that time with her.

Whenever I see her around school, she always has a look of quiet melancholy. So, it was genuinely heartwarming to see her so full of joy while we were all together.

I was so surprised at how lively she was once out of her shell, that she had such a delightful sense of humor, that she was so imaginative—I truly did have a fun time with her.

Between this and the massage earlier, it feels like weeks of built-up stress have largely disappeared. It’s a strange day—but a good one. Like fortune itself is smiling down on me.

Besides, I finally have a winning formula now. A way to actually get Haruki alone.

Man, it really is awesome that so many students ignore the library…

…uh, you know what? On second thought, that’s probably not something I should be celebrating.

Still, the library stays open for a few hours after school, and that’s more than enough time to seize an opportunity to talk with Haruki. And if I really need to, I can just ask Komori to give us five or ten minutes alone. She’s a good girl—I’m sure she’d understand.

I can't wait for this afternoon.