Uesugi Hara Wants a Little Secretary

With the core framework of the class settled, there was nothing urgent left to handle. The remaining details would be formally announced at the class meeting only after Sakayanagi Arisu and Katsuragi reached a private agreement—this was an unspoken rule everyone had already accepted.

The crowd dispersed quickly, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor gradually fading. A few people remained in the classroom, huddled in small groups to discuss what had just transpired.

"Uesugi Hara, I really didn't expect you to be so capable." There was a touch of pleasantly surprised lightness in Morishita Ran's voice.

"Sakayanagi and the others did most of the prep work beforehand; I just happened to lend a hand at the very end." Uesugi Hara lightly brushed his fingertips against the hem of his shirt. His tone sounded indifferent, but the tail end of his sentence softened involuntarily—being praised so straightforwardly by Morishita always left him feeling a bit uneasy.

Looking at the girl before him, who seemed somewhat detached from the mundane world, her eyelashes drooping like butterfly wings, even the way she held her pen exuding a structured, icy composure, Uesugi Hara suddenly felt the urge to tease her.

"Say, Morishita-san," he deliberately drew out his tone. Seeing her look up, he continued slowly, "Look, Sakayanagi has her little maid Kamuro following her around, and that lackey Hashimoto is always fawning over her; Katsuragi has his subordinate Totsuka at his beck and call, with people even fighting to hand him documents. And me—" He spread his hands, intentionally putting on a "forlorn and lonely" expression, "I'm just a lone wolf. So, are you interested... in being my secretary?"

Morishita Ran's hand, holding the pen, paused. Her clear eyes blinked, as if she were seriously deconstructing the logic of his statement. A few seconds later, she looked up at him, her tone devoid of fluctuation: "What are the duties of a secretary? Do I need to serve tea and water like Kamuro, or take memos like Totsuka?"

Uesugi Hara was choked by her overly serious counter-question and nearly failed to suppress a laugh—he had expected her to frown in refusal or look offended, but he hadn't expected her to seriously consider the "job description."

He cleared his throat and followed her lead: "It doesn't have to be that complicated. For instance, right now, help me pass that report on the table; that can count as your first task as secretary."

Morishita Ran glanced at the document within his reach, then back at him, and suddenly let out a soft "Oh."

Instead of touching the document, she pushed the notes she had just organized toward him: "If that's the work of a secretary, then you can be my 'temporary secretary' for now—help me mark the key points in these notes while I go get a glass of water."

Uesugi Hara watched her back as she walked toward the water cooler, his fingertips hovering over the notes she had left behind, suddenly feeling as though the tables had been turned on him.

Sunlight filtered through the window, landing on her hair and softening even her icy demeanor. He chuckled under his breath, and as he picked up the pen, the curve of his lips became impossible to suppress.

When Morishita Ran returned with her water, she saw Uesugi Hara bowing his head, marking up her notes; the sound of the pen tip gliding across the paper was very faint.

She placed her cup beside his hand and leaned in to take a look—the sentences circled in red were exactly the ones she had been hesitating to highlight.

"It seems the 'temporary secretary' is doing quite well." She tapped one of the spots with her fingertip. "I always felt the logic chain here was a bit convoluted. Did you mark it because you think there's an issue?"

Uesugi Hara tapped the paper with his pen: "It's not an issue, it's just that it could be more concise. For example, if you swap the order of these two data comparison sentences, you can save at least three lines of explanation." As he spoke, he casually wrote a simplified version in the margin.

Morishita Ran stared at the lines for two seconds, then suddenly blinked: "In that case, instead of me being your secretary, why don't you consider being my 'logic consultant'?"

Uesugi Hara, who had just picked up his water cup, paused: "What kind of new position is that?"

"It's just helping me straighten out these convoluted sentences." She handed him her pen. "In exchange, next time you need a 'secretary' to pass a report, I can begrudgingly answer the call."

The wind outside the window rustled the leaves. Uesugi Hara looked at the pen she offered—the warmth of her fingertips still lingered on the barrel. As he took it, his fingers brushed against her palm. He paused for a moment before quickly looking away.

"Deal." He lowered his head and drew a small checkmark at the end of her notes. "But let's get this straight: the consultant's service fee must be paid in milk tea."

Morishita Ran said "Mm," but the corners of her mouth curled up slightly, as if she were hiding a cloud warmed by the sun.

The dormitory at night should have been filled with the sound effects of games or the light rustle of turning pages—this was Uesugi Hara's inviolable "private time."

But tonight was different. He was hunched over his desk, the terminal screen split to show the faces of Katsuragi and Sakayanagi. The three of them had been discussing a list of class affairs for nearly half an hour.

He clicked his tongue at the microphone, his fingers tapping the desk unconsciously: "Didn't we agree on this? Don't come to me with overly troublesome matters. And didn't we agree before—that I, the 'neutral referee,' only need to step in when you and Katsuragi argue to the point where neither will yield?"

Sakayanagi Arisu's laughter immediately came through the terminal, clear and tinged with knowing cunning, like a feather lightly brushing against his ear: "Uesugi-kun, that kind of talk might fool others, but you can't possibly believe it yourself, can you?"

Uesugi Hara raised an eyebrow, about to retort, when he heard her continue: "If you really didn't want to be involved, you wouldn't have proactively suggested collecting points as class funds earlier—after all, someone who 'hates trouble' wouldn't analyze things so carefully, would they?"

His fingers paused. He glanced at the numbers he had casually circled earlier and suddenly lost the confidence to argue back. Beside him, Katsuragi chuckled, rarely adding, "Besides, you were asking about the study group assignments five minutes ago; that doesn't sound like someone who only wants to be a 'referee'."

Uesugi Hara leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes at the screen, but he didn't complain again.

The moonlight from outside drifted in, landing on the terminal screen and making the two virtual images look exceptionally clear—he suddenly felt that this wasn't much different from playing games alone.

"Alright, most of the content has been organized." Sakayanagi Arisu tapped her terminal, and the finalized document synced to both of their interfaces. "As for the remaining trivial matters, let's have everyone discuss them during tomorrow's class meeting. Let's stop here for today."

As she spoke, her hair swayed gently with her movements. Her gaze swept across the screen and finally landed on Uesugi Hara, carrying a faint smile: "You've worked hard tonight, Uesugi-kun. Would you like me to come over and offer some consolation?"

"Forget it, I just want to lie flat right now." Uesugi Hara waved his hand immediately, his fingers already hovering over the "Exit Meeting" button. "You two should get some rest too—Katsuragi, don't stay up until the small hours staring at the plan."

Katsuragi's tone remained steady: "Understood. See you tomorrow."

The moment the terminal interface went dark, the dormitory finally returned to silence.

Uesugi Hara stretched, his joints popping with a series of light clicks. Just as he was about to turn and "throw" himself into his soft bed, the terminal suddenly chimed with a notification.

He grabbed it and tapped it open—it was a message from Sakayanagi, containing only one line: "I'll lend you Kamuro to run errands for you tomorrow. Whether it's picking up materials or moving things, she can handle it."

His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen: "No, no, just thinking about that is enough." He paused and added, "I couldn't handle the actual operation. If I really let her run errands for me, my back would be stared into a hole."

The terminal popped up a reply with only two words: "Fair enough." It was followed by an understated period, which somehow carried a hint of amusement, as if he had hit the mark.

And with that, the first day of May came to an end.