This is incredibly awkward.
Since my face hadn't changed at all since before my Reincarnation, I'd been completely convinced that Nagishi-san knew exactly who I was.
But when it came down to it, she didn't seem to remember me at all.
When I said my name, she barely reacted.
Then she quickly added, "Sasashima-kun, sure, I remember you," but her face made it perfectly obvious she couldn't—so I could tell it was a lie right away.
Shiro-san was pretty much a poker face, so I couldn't read her emotions, but Nagishi-san was the type who wore everything right on her face.
That said... this is embarrassing.
I was so convinced she remembered me—talk about self-centered. This is mortifying!
Now that I think about it, it's been years. It'd be perfectly normal not to remember a classmate's face.
I remembered her, sure, but that was entirely because she had such a strong presence.
Nagishi Akiko-san.
She stood out from the rest of the class.
Her appearance alone made a strong impression, but more than anything, it was her behavior that stuck with me.
Nagishi-san would typically sleep through morning classes. The class representative, Kudo-san, would try to stop her, but all he'd get back was a glare that practically oozed murderous intent.
That alone was enough to make you think, "Yeah, this one's trouble."
Naturally, she was isolated within the class.
And yet, Nagishi-san had really changed.
The girl who used to do nothing but glare at everyone with hatred now flickered through different expressions from moment to moment.
Her once high-and-mighty tone now sounded more like someone putting on a brave front, and there was a childlike quality to her that suited her actual age.
Even though, having been Reincarnated, her mental age should be higher than her appearance suggested.
Whether that change was for the better wasn't really my call to make.
If she was happy with it, then that was enough.
From where I stood, she did seem a lot easier to talk to now.
But still—this is awkward.
Partly because she didn't remember me, but also because we'd literally just been trying to kill each other.
Why did Shiro-san just leave without saying anything?
Being stuck alone with her in this atmosphere was way too much.
"Hey. Don't call me Nagishi. My name now is
It didn't seem like she was changing her name just because I'd introduced myself as Lars.
She must have had her own reasons for not wanting to hear her old name.
She probably hated who she was in her past life.
That much was obvious from how she'd acted—like the entire world around her back then was something to despise.
"Got it. From now on, I'll call you Sophia-san."
I had no reason to argue. I was hardly one to talk.
"So why did Shiro-san bring us together like this?"
I changed the subject on purpose.
I figured continuing the conversation about names would only leave a bitter taste for both of us.
"No idea."
"Huh?"
That wasn't the answer I expected.
"I have no idea. She didn't tell me anything."
"Wait—"
She just showed up here without being told anything? Oh, come to think of it, if she'd been given instructions, she probably wouldn't have attacked me the moment we met.
"So she really just wanted us to meet?"
"I don't think that's all. There's probably something written in this book."
Sophia-san held up a book.
I looked down at the book Shiro-san had given me too.
What she'd handed me was a book and clothes.
The clothes were a long-sleeved undershirt, hakama, tabi socks, and this cloth I'd rather not think too hard about—a fundoshi?
It looked exactly like a complete samurai outfit. Was I supposed to wear this?
I'd grown up in modern Japan, after all, and wearing something like this would feel about as comfortable as cosplay.
Well, compared to wearing almost nothing when
I'd leave the clothes topic for later.
As for the book—nothing was written on the cover. It wasn't very thick, more like a notebook.
When I flipped it open, there was something handwritten inside.
"Shiro-chan's Easy Skill Lessons"
The title was written in cute, bubbly lettering, accompanied by an illustration of a stylized little spider character that looked like it was doing a happy dance.
"What is this?"
"Beats me. Maybe she wrote it while drunk?"
What?
Shiro-san's image was crumbling.
Drunk? She drinks?
"Our Master's personality changes when she drinks. You're better off thinking the drunk Master and the everyday Master are two different people."
Huh.
Wait—!
"Master?"
That was a word I couldn't just let slide.
"Master"!? What's with that!?
So that's the kind of relationship they have!?
"Hey, don't get the wrong idea! Master and I don't have that kind of relationship!"
"No, no, no—why would you call her 'Master'!? That's weird from the get-go!"
"I don't call her that because I want to! It's a curse!"
"A curse?"
"That's right. A curse that makes it so I can only ever call her 'Master.'"
What a ridiculous curse.
"Who would cast something like that...?"
"Who knows? It happened during one of her drunken rampages. Even I don't understand."
"Can't you break it?"
"Apparently not. In fact, I'm supposedly lucky that the only effect is something this laughable—because it's an incredibly powerful curse."
I'd just witnessed a truly wasteful use of a terrible curse.
And honestly, Shiro-san's image continued to crumble in my mind with every passing second.
"Anyway, let's read this book. It's not that long, so it shouldn't take long."
Wanting to shut down any further talk about curses, Sophia-san forcefully changed the subject.
Then she immediately opened her own book and got comfortable reading.
I felt like my side of the conversation had just been unilaterally shut down, and it stung a little.
Well, I figured it was fair enough—she'd have every right to dislike someone she'd just been fighting to the death with. But even understanding that, it still stung.
Maybe I'd been more starved for conversation than I realized.
Maybe I'd been searching for someone who shared my Reincarnation and could talk with me as an equal.
Thinking that, I turned my attention to the book as well.