Imai Keita, You’re Basically Not Human

The air in the clubroom fell into a subtle stillness after Tsukinoki Koto’s hurried departure.

Imai Keita looked at Komari Chika, who still had her hands raised high above her head and wore an expression of “I surrender, don’t kill me.”

His temples began to throb again.

This pain had nothing to do with the “succubus aura” losing control — it was purely emotional exhaustion.

Why did people around him always turn out to be ridiculously hard to communicate with?

First a loser girl who dumped all her emotional baggage onto him, and now a gloomy-type girl who needed immense courage just to speak.

Keita sighed internally and softened his voice as much as possible, so as not to scare the already fragile underclassman into breaking completely.

“Komari-san, you can put your hands down now.”

He pointed at the tea on the table, speaking calmly.

“I’m not going to do anything to you.

I just want you to normally explain the Literature Club to us. That’s all.”

He paused, then added in an even gentler tone:

“Look, the vice-president abandoned us instantly for her boyfriend.

So now, the only person here who knows how this club works… is you, right?”

That sentence did not calm Komari down.

If anything, it felt like he had stepped on a landmine.

“That’s not true!”

Komari Chika shouted emotionally, her voice cracking.

She slammed both hands down onto the table, her body trembling from agitation.

Her eyes — usually evasive — suddenly burned with unexpected defiance.

“Senpai Koto and Senpai Shintarou are not dating!”

Her explosive reaction startled not just Keita, but also Yanaimi Anna, who had been listlessly flipping through a light novel.

“They… they’re just childhood friends!”

Komari yelled with all her strength, as if declaring a sacred truth that must never be tainted.

But right after shouting, she sensed a chilling gaze fixed on her.

Anna slowly lowered her light novel and rose from her seat.

Her movements were slow.

Her expression was pensive.

“Childhood friends… who aren’t together…”

Anna muttered dreamily as she walked toward Komari and Keita step by step.

Her eyes were unfocused, locked onto Komari as though seeking further “answers.”

“Komari-san…”

Anna’s voice was hazy, almost like sleep-talking.

“You know… I’m the same, too.”

“Huh?”

Komari had no idea what was happening.

She shrank back instinctively, trying to escape the dangerous aura radiating from Anna.

Keita looked at the scene before him and felt his headache worsen.

One extreme introvert.

One trauma-filled loser girl.

Putting these two together was basically a natural disaster.

He reached out, placed his hand on Anna’s head, and shoved her back into her seat.

“Alright. Sit down.”

Keita said impatiently.

“Don’t scare Komari-san.”

“Oww! Keita, what was that for!”

Anna clutched her head and protested angrily.

“Just because childhood friends aren’t dating doesn’t mean it’s the same as your case.”

Keita said mercilessly, exposing her softest spot.

“Maybe those two simply haven’t thought about romance yet.

But you—”

He stopped for a moment, then decided to deliver the cleanest, cruelest blow possible.

“Your guy just straight-up ignored you and ran off with another woman.”

Silence.

One second later—

“UWAAAAAHHH—!”

Anna covered her face with her hands and let out the fakest wailing imaginable.

“Imai Keita, you monster! You devil! You’re basically not human!”

“How could you crush the fragile heart of a pure maiden so brutally! It hurts! I’m dying!!”

While crying, she peeked through her fingers to check Keita’s reaction, clearly expecting:

Hurry up and comfort me.
Apologize.

Keita ignored her completely and sighed instead.

He calmly picked up his tea, blew on it, and took a slow sip.

Between them, Komari Chika peeked past the edge of her book, her confused and horrified eyes watching the scene like it was a bizarre stage play.

Although… although what Keita said was extremely harsh…

Anna’s reaction was way too exaggerated.

It felt like she was acting.

Also — why were these two interacting like that?

They looked close, but everything they said to each other was mutual destruction.

Is this… how popular people communicate?

So complicated…

Komari’s mind fell into further chaos.

“Alright. Enough acting.”

Keita set down his teacup and spoke to the still-wailing Anna.

“If you keep fake-crying, you’ll get thirsty later and no one will refill your tea.”

“Hmph!”

Anna instantly stopped crying and glared at him.

“I was not acting! I’m seriously hurt! You have to make it up to me! Treat me to a matcha parfait!”

“Sure.

If you score in the top fifty of the year on the next exam, I’ll treat you.”

“Just kill me then!”

As the two prepared to start yet another argument, Keita decided to deal with the real issue first.

He turned back to Komari, who was desperately trying to minimize her existence.

“Alright, Komari-san. Jokes aside…”

Keita’s tone returned to normal.

“Let’s continue. What does the Literature Club usually—”

Before he could finish, someone knocked on the old wooden door.

Tok, tok, tok.

Three polite, rhythmic taps instantly drew all their attention.

“Um… this is Shikiya from the Student Council.

May I come in?”

A low, slightly lazy female voice came from outside.

Without waiting for a reply, the doorknob turned and the door opened.

A curvy, striking figure stepped into the room.

Light brown wavy hair draped over her shoulders, tipped with a simple flower accessory.

Her uniform shirt wasn’t buttoned neatly, her sleeves were rolled casually to the elbows, and her skirt was noticeably shorter than usual.

Her light makeup and white-colored contacts gave her an almost surreal, out-of-place aura.

A beautiful gyaru with an unusual aesthetic.

Keita immediately labeled her in his mind.

Shikiya scanned the room, her eyes pausing on Keita before slowly walking toward him.

Her steps were slow, drained, almost zombie-like.

Combined with her reserved personality, Keita subconsciously tilted his head.

A zombie-type quiet gyaru, huh…?

“You’re… the Literature Club’s… Imai… right?”