So...
Do you even know what a perfect bishoujo is?
Would a perfect bishoujo play video games? What a joke! A so-called perfect bishoujo doesn't even fart. She only lets out pink clouds of gas...
Wait!
Sure, pink does go well with a girl's heart and all that, but if a pink cloud of gas suddenly appeared, who would call it cute? Wouldn't that make it even worse?
E...
Setting all that aside for now—in short, Umaru had been holding out to maintain the image she liked to call her "perfect bishoujo" persona. Fortunately, whenever she wanted to keep up appearances, everyone else did too... Or maybe it was more accurate to say that when she wanted to protect her image, everyone else acted pretty much the same way?
Until today...
To be honest, a forest retreat was nothing short of cruel to Umaru. After all, she just wanted to stay home—there were countless games waiting for her to beat them, countless anime waiting for her to catch up on, not to mention cola and snacks. What didn't they have at home?
Now look at a forest retreat: some backwater place in the middle of nowhere. Forget electricity, Wi-Fi, and all that—even getting around was inconvenient. Umaru Doma had never understood why schools were so fond of dragging their students to these baffling places, claiming it was all to "toughen them up."
Toughen them up, my foot! She still had tons of games to finish...
Of course, she could grumble all she wanted in her head, but if she was actually asked to come, she would. There was only one reason: her image!
She could put up with it. Besides, she wasn't the only one enduring this; everyone else was, too...
But what was she seeing now? That guy called