Afterword

Hello again, Yuki Yaku here.

As I plunge into my third year since debuting as an author, I’ve gotten used to working as a writer, and lately, I don’t even feel embarrassed about introducing myself as “Yuki Yaku, light novel author.” Now I’ve actually started to feel embarrassed when people call me by my real name rather than my pen name, which makes me a little worried.

It’s been three months since the publication of the last book in the series, and for the first time, we’ve done a short story collection. I hope you enjoyed it.

When we announced this book on Twitter, we got a lot of responses, such as, “Why did you go from that cliffhanger in Volume 6 to a short story collection?” and “Are you trying to keep us hanging?” and “Publishers have a bad habit of putting out short story collections as soon as a series starts to take off,” and “Yuki Yaku, stop googling yourself and get writing!” I couldn’t help agreeing with some of them, but hopefully my critics will realize that I actually wanted to write a short story collection.

In other incredible news, Mimimi appeared in a full-page ad for Pasco’s Chonetsu Shokupan bread in the Yomiuri Shimbun. It was a complete stroke of good luck, which I had nothing to do with, but I still intend to go around boasting about it as if it was all my own doing. Please put up with me when I do.

Anyhow, none of this is due to my efforts alone. I hardly need to say that this series exists thanks to the work of many different people: the publisher, the printer, the delivery people, bookstore staff, and copy editors. Oh, and the glimpse of a white sock in the lower left corner of the portrait of Aoi Hinami in the frontispiece. Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki wouldn’t be here without all of your support.

I’m a little too fond of surprise attacks, which has probably led to some confused readers, but rest assured and continue reading—it’s just my usual thing.

So what does that white sock reveal? The natural immaturity of Aoi Hinami in her junior high years, as she approaches perfection.

But before I get into that, I must first touch on the nature of her perfection.

For example, her perfectly trimmed nails. They appear before us, not too short and not too long, but rather shaped in precisely the way that will show off her fingertips to the greatest advantage, attracting all who see them with their sensitivity. The palm that is turned invitingly toward the viewer already draws us in more than the average junior high student would.

Her stomach peeping through the slit in her blouse; the color of her skin visible beneath the thin fabric. Perhaps she just happened to not wear an undershirt, but then again, she might very well have chosen to wear a short tube top for greater appeal, carefully orchestrating her own appearance in order to tighten her grip on her standing as a perfect heroine.

The same could be said of her lightly colored cheeks, her shortened skirt, and her soft, light hair. For Hinami, as she pursues perfection through trial and error during her junior high years, her choices regarding her outer appearance are the simplest of her themes, as well as the realm in which her efforts are most visible to other people.

Then there is that smirk of hers, full of confidence that she is the best. At this stage, she has probably mostly finished creating herself and is aware of her own perfection. She can rake in compliments for being “sophisticated” and “not like most junior high kids” whenever she pleases.

In other words, at this point in time, she is already perfect in many ways, worthy of the title perfect heroine without even trying very hard.

Yet, a single vulnerability can be spied within that perfection—the white sock. That sock and the sense of “natural immaturity” it conveys. That is what brings Aoi Hinami as she is depicted in the frontispiece into focus as a real, three-dimensional character.

While a typical high schooler would wear blue or black socks, that very same Hinami who “doesn’t seem like a junior high kid” made the mistake of choosing white—probably because of school rules or the reigning style.

This is an undesirable vulnerability for her, one that gives away the fact that she is indeed so young. The label is unavoidable—she is “naturally immature.”

In the process of reaching constantly for adulthood, that extended posture became natural to her. She reaches ever higher, not even realizing she’s doing it. Most other people don’t realize it, either, and you could be forgiven for saying she was born in such a position. But lurking within her perfection is an artificial crack, inevitable because that perfection was created by a human being. The crack reveals itself in her white socks.

Which is to say—the fact that her reaching was all bluff and bravado was right there at our feet the whole time.

Even the fact that this symbol of reaching is not visible on the cover but instead only on the frontispiece may hint at her outward perfection.

And now on to the acknowledgments.

To Fly-san, my illustrator: Thank you for your amazing drawings. I thought beauty capped out at 9,999, but here you’ve taken it to 10,005. I bet you’ll go all the way to 999,999. I’m a big fan.

To my editor Iwaasa-san: Wouldn’t you agree that, thanks to promising you when I finished the last volume that “Next time will be different,” this one was only a moderately grueling experience to edit? Nice job, Yuki Yaku.

And finally, to all my readers. Since you’ve been like-bombing me lately, I’ve had more opportunities to interact with you. Thanks always for your support. Thank you, also, to those of you who quietly go out and buy my books without a word on social media. I’m working hard to keep you on the edges of your seats, so I hope you’ll stick with me.

I look forward to seeing you in the next volume!

Yuki Yaku