Prologue
PROLOGUE
The statement sounded like a commercial catchphrase, but it wasn’t. It was just Ouka, honestly expressing how she felt.
The temperature in the classroom was ninety-one degrees. Unfortunately, there were still no AC units in this school.
“It’s so hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot! It’s supposed to be autumn; why is it so warm?! I might raise taxes over this!”
“Just because you’re angry doesn’t mean you can take it out on your people!”
“Oh, right. I’m the one who decided not to put any air-conditioning in the school. But regardless, the heat is infuriating, so raising taxes is still an option.”
“You’re a total despot!”
From the desk beside Ouka, Ryouta intervened. He was probably the only one in this class with any common sense. Well, not quite. There likely were other rational folks in the room, but they weren’t in any position to stop Ouka.
Ouka Sarano was the emperor of this country—the Sacred Blood Empire. Back when this land belonged to Japan, it was the small, provincial city of Akinomiya. Earlier this year, in April, it had been occupied by a group called the Sacred Blooded.
The country borders were supposed to be sealed up tight, but Ryouta had wandered into the Empire through an unmonitored mountain while on a hike. Since then, he’d been living in the Sacred Blood Empire as a Japanese national—a rare specimen.
Ryouta had been classmates with Ouka in elementary school. The Sacred Blooded had lived normally as Japanese citizens back then.
Beside Ouka, her royal guard Sasara Tatsunami was fanning her.
“Yes, it is indeed balmy, Lady Ouka. But I wouldn’t mind if it got a little hotter, honestly.” A slight grin tugged at her face. Even though Sasara was from a noble family, she wasn’t very refined. “If it does, then Lady Ouka will show more skin, perhaps to a risqué and immodest extent. And if it becomes hot enough, she won’t be able to wear her uniform anymore and will come to class in a swimsuit… Lady Ouka in a swimsuit, in a naughty swimsuit, with only a single piece of cloth covering her whole body… Pant, pant…”
“Fantasize all you want, but why does a bathing suit automatically make things naughty?”
This guard was very (and likely sexually) fond of Ouka, so it was impossible for her to be respectful around her.
“Sasara, keep saying things that make me uncomfortable, and I’ll make you work overtime for free.”
“I am terribly sorry, Lady Ouka.” Sasara’s expression snapped back to a serious one, and she started fanning Ouka at full power.
“Of course she hates overtime…” Ryouta had caught a glimpse of a slightly unexpected side to Sasara, but it didn’t exactly make his heart flutter.
“Sheesh. It is so hot, though. Who thinks they can pick a fight with me without consequences? I’ll introduce a fight tax!”
“I think you have a different definition of consequences!”
“Okay, how about this: If I say it’s hot a hundred times in a day, then I’ll raise the tax. It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot.”
“You’re trying to say it three hundred times, aren’t you?! Stop!”
“It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, istot… Hot.”
“You tripped!”
“C-come on… Even I, the omnipotent and omniscient emperor, trip over my words sometimes… Leave me alone…”
Ouka was more embarrassed than Ryouta would have thought; her face was red. She was surprisingly vulnerable when it came to blunders.
“Grant me a moment to gather myself. It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot.”
“You’re still going?! I honestly thought you’d stop when you got hurt, but you seem pretty prepared to push yourself if it means raising taxes!” Ryouta exclaimed.
Geez. Are the people of the Empire really going to have to pay higher dues because of this?
Thankfully, there was still someone capable of speaking up against the emperor.
“Cut it out, Big Sis.”
A girl with blonde hair and pigtails stood from her seat. It was Shiren Fuyukura, Emperor Ouka’s younger sister. She was one of the very few people who could converse freely with the emperor of the Sacred Blood Empire.
For various reasons not worth getting into, Shiren and Ryouta were currently living together. More specifically, Ryouta was living off Shiren.
“You raised the resident tax after all that happened the other day. You’re a ruler; can’t you consider the circumstances of your pe—?”
“The highest quality court-made tomato dishes,” Ouka whispered.
“Well, when the treasury is low, you do what you must,” accepted Shiren.
“She bribed you in under three seconds!” Ryouta cried.
Shiren Fuyukura hardly stood a chance against her appetite.
“What’s so bad about that? Food makes the woman. Your cooking is good, too, Ryouta.”
Ryouta was nominally Shiren’s servant—her minion. She’d even put a collar around his neck to show as much. It should have been rather embarrassing, but Ryouta had grown used to it. His classmates didn’t go out of their way to tell him it creeped them out, either. Desensitization was a force to be reckoned with.
“Oh, right, talking about food reminded me, but soon will come a day when we can have candied apples, okonomiyaki, takoyaki, and shaved ice.”
“Don’t talk like this conversation was always about eating!”
Ryouta was pretty sure the topic had been centered around how warm it was.
“The three greatest desires of the Sacred Blooded are food, food, and food. We can’t help it.”
“At least include something about blood! Is there nothing original about the Sacred Blooded?”
Shiren’s incredible gluttony was a source of endless contemplation for Ryouta.
“Anyway, you’re talking like there’s going to be a festival.”
“That’s because there will be! Next Sunday, at the Holy Church of the Sacred Blood First Cathedral!” interjected Kiyomizu Jouryuuji. At a glance, this high schooler looked indistinguishable from an elementary school student.
Once Ryouta was trapped in the Sacred Blood Empire, she had followed him here with no intention of leaving anytime soon.
“Why are you so excited about this, Kiyomizu?” inquired Ryouta.
“I grew up watching festivals at the temple my family lives in. I always get so excited when there’s a big celebration!”
“Oh, I see. What kind of events did your family hold anyway? I don’t actually know.”
“It was the Jouryuuji Comic Market.”
“I…don’t think that’s a festival.”
“We had all sorts of different indie publishers in the eastern hall, in the western hall, at the industry booths, in the Amida hall, in the pagoda, and everywhere else!”
“What a weird partnership!”
“And then everything in the inner shrine was adult-only.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough.”
Ryouta was suddenly struck by the feeling that his hometown had dramatically changed since he’d been away. Maybe it was Kiyomizu who had changed it.
“Who cares about some party? This heat is simply unforgivable. It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot.”
“You really are going to say it a hundred times. It’s obvious you haven’t given up.”
Ryouta had to stop Ouka. Life was about to get a lot harder if he didn’t.
“It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, it’s hot, issots, it’s hot…”
She messed up again. Everyone in the class turned to look at Ouka.
“Wh-what…? My tongue fumbles sometimes… Why aren’t you saying anything…? Cut it out…”
Ouka was incredibly embarrassed by her second mistake. And the entire room staring at her only made it worse.
There was, however, a single student not paying the emperor any mind.
It was Tamaki Shijou, keeping to her seat, reading a book.
And that book was titled You Can Be Popular, Too! 100 Ways to Overcome Shyness.
In a way, Tamaki was brave for reading a publication with a title like that in the middle of class.
The following was written on the page she had open:
Festivals and other events are the perfect chance to show a different side of yourself. Shock your crush!
“A different self…at a festival…”
In the corner of the classroom, Tamaki had made up her mind. This upcoming celebration was the perfect time to remake herself.
“Feshtival…”
She said it wrong, but her voice was so quiet that no one turned to look at her.
