The S-Class Mage is a Gyaru!? Chapter 75: Arcane Jungle, Part Two

By so miracle, we actually get work done. Between Haruka’s chaos and my organization, we’ve sketched out a runic array that might not completely fail. My notebook’s a ss of her hearts and my precise diagrams, but sohow it works.

"See?" Haruka beams as we walk out of the cafe. "Told you we’d make a good team!"

I grunt in response, but I can’t completely hide my satisfaction. The array we designed is actually pretty solid, I guess.

Then a voice cuts through the evening air like a knife through my good mood:

"Yo, bestie!"

[Oh fuck .]

Akari fucking Nakamura herself cos bouncing up the street. She’s got this swagger like she owns the whole damn city.

"Kari-chan!" Haruka waves enthusiastically. "Perfect timing! Co et my project partner!"

[No. No no no-]

"Oh shit, you’re that tiger girl from Haru’s class!" Akari grins, looking up and down. "Damn, Haru wasn’t kidding about those muscles!"

I draw myself up to my full height, tail straight behind . This is my chance. Ti to make my declaration as her rival, to show her I’m-

"She’s literally the cutest!" Haruka jumps in. "You should see her when she blushes! Her ears go all flat and her tail gets all puffy-"

"I do NOT-"

"Oh my god, like right now!" Haruka actually claps. "Look how adorable!"

Akari’s grin gets wider.

"Aww, she’s like a grumpy little-"

"Big," Haruka corrects. "Grumpy big kitty. She’s working so hard to be scary but then she gets all flustered when-"

My carefully prepared rival speech dies in my throat as they both coo over like I’m so kind of pet.

All my dramatic tension, all my built-up determination...

[I’m going to murder them both. With my bare hands. In front of witnesses.]

"Tch." The sound escapes through gritted teeth as I turn on my heel.

"Aw, baby, don’t be like that!" Haruka calls after . "See you in class!"

I walk away with as much dignity as I can muster, which isn’t much considering I can hear them both giggling behind . My ears are burning, my tail’s probably puffed up just like Haruka said, and any chance of being taken seriously as a rival just went up in flas.

[Note to self: next ti, skip the dramatic introduction and just punch her or sothing.]

---

5 AM. The gym’s mine.

J-RAP blasts through my earbuds as I push through another set. The lyrics about being a boss, crushing enemies, and taking nas hit different when you’re alone in a dimly lit gym, sweat rolling down your arms.

[Perfect. Just , these weights, and... That.]

My mom’s bento sits on the bench beside , covered in sparkly tiger stickers. One of them winks at .

[... Ignore it. You’re a warrior. You’re a hunter. Motherfucker steps in front of you? It’s ON SIGHT! You’re-]

The door creaks open, letting in a blast of cold morning air.

[What the...? Who the fuck works out at 5 AM besides-]

Oh.

Oh no.

Akari fucking Nakamura stumbles in backward, her lips locked with Haruka’s.

"..."

I blush.

Neither of them notice as Haruka pushes Akari against the wall, hands already working at removing her uniform. The sound of buttons popping echoes through the empty gym.

"Mmmm!" Akari hums contentedly as Haruka dives between her legs. "Damn babe, slow down~"

"Fuck that," Haruka replies, eyeing that gyaru cock. "Ain’t every day we wake up this early. Co on, gim that dick! Let’s get this day started off right!"

[... Seriously?]

My dumbbells suddenly feel very heavy in my hands. Sweat drips down my neck as I stand frozen, watching my carefully planned morning routine implode. The J-RAP still blasting in my earbuds about being unstoppable feels a lot less hardcore now.

I could say sothing. All things considered, I probably should say sothing. But what exactly do you say when your project partner is currently trying to swallow your rival’s dick? When the girl who was supposed to help with runic arrays is now helping herself to sothing else entirely?

They knock over a rack of dumbbells. The weights clatter across the floor, rolling past my feet. Neither of them seems to notice.

[Right. Cool. This is fine.]

I turn my music up louder, but it doesn’t quite drown out the sounds of:

"Fuck, baby-"

[NOPE.]

Grabbing my bento (and its cheerful stickers), I head for the door. They’re too busy with... whatever to notice leave. The last thing I hear is Haruka’s muffled voice saying sothing about "breakfast of champions."

My tail lashes behind as I storm down the hallway. The sun’s barely up, the early morning air biting at my sweaty skin, and now I’ve got to find a new gym. Because apparently my 5 AM workout spot has beco their new... favorite... fuck locale.

[Note to self: find a new gym. Or new rivals. Or both.]

At least this counts as cardio for them, I guess.

Maybe I’ll try that gym across town. The one by the convenience store. Sure, it’s a longer walk, but at this point I’d rather dodge yakuza than watch Haruka demonstrate her oral skills on my sworn enemy.

... Right after I bleach these images from my brain.

Admittedly, though...

I reach down, basically trying to squeeze the life out of my own dick for even so much as twitching in response to that bullshit.

[Mom, Dad... your little kitten needs therapy.]

---

Mom’s made curry. Again. Third ti this week.

The kitchen table’s too small for . My knees bump against it with every movent. But, Dad insisted on keeping it because it’s "part of our family history." Like most things in this house, it’s sized for normal feynals, not whatever genetic quirk made shoot up like a redwood among bonsai trees.

"And then?" Dad leans forward, his tiny ears twitching. "Did you make any new friends today?"

I push a chunk of potato around my plate, trying not to think about what I walked in on this morning. The sounds. The moans. The way Haruka’s hands-

"Nao-chan?" Mom waves her chopsticks at . "You’re all red! Do you have a fever?"

"I’m fine."

"Maybe she’s in love!" Dad bounces in his seat, nearly knocking over his water glass. "Our little kitten’s growing up!"

I choke on my curry.

"Ooh, is it that nice boy from your physics class?" Mom claps her hands. "The one with the-"

"No."

"Or that pretty girl who sits next to you in-"

"Also no."

They share this look that makes my tail bristle. The sa look they’ve been giving since high school, when I spent prom night doing push-ups in my room while blasting loud hip hop.

"Well," Mom slides another helping onto my plate - her solution to everything is more curry - "when I was your age-"

"Please don’t."

"-your father and I were already-"

"LA LA LA," I shove curry in my mouth, burning my tongue. Better than hearing this story again. Last ti she told it, I learned things about dad’s tail that still haunt .

"Oh! Speaking of romance," Dad perks up, "I found your old magical girl figurines in the attic! Rember how you used to make them kiss?"

I slam my head on the table. The dishes rattle.

"I was FIVE."

"You were so cute!" Mom reaches over to pinch my cheek. Her hand barely covers a quarter of my face. "Always saying you were going to marry Sailor Jupiter because she was the strong one-"

"That’s it. I’m moving out."

"But who’ll eat all this curry?" They both look at with big, watery eyes.

[Why are they like this???]

An hour of dodging questions about my love life later, I escape to my room. The walls are bare except for one poster - a famous mage mid-spell, looking powerful. Unstoppable. Mom keeps trying to put up cat posters next to it. I keep taking them down.

My bed creaks as I flop onto it, springs protesting. Another thing not made for soone my size. The glow-in-the-dark stars Mom put up when I was twelve shine back at , arranged in what she claims is "the constellation of love."

Truth is, I’ve never even held hands with anyone.

Unless you count that ti in middle school when Mary Takada needed a partner for the three-legged race. Which ended with accidentally throwing her into a bush when I got too competitive.

But who needs that shit? I’ve got weights to lift. Spells to master. A rival to defeat.

[A rival who’s probably still going at it with her best friend in my gym...]

"Nao-chan!" Mom’s voice carries through the door. "I found your old dating sim gas! Want to play together for practice?"

I grab my pillow and scream into it.

[Focus on the gains. The power. The-]

"Oh! And I bought you so romance manga! This one’s about a shy muscle girl who falls for-"

The pillow’s not thick enough to muffle my shriek.

"AND," Dad joins in, "we signed you up for a magical matchmaking service!"

I sit bolt upright.

"You WHAT?"

"It’s very reputable!" Mom calls through the door. "They specialize in finding partners for magically gifted feynals! Your first date is next-"

I throw open my window. The night air hits my face as I seriously consider if three stories is too high to jump.

"Don’t forget to wear the lucky cat ears I bought you!" Dad adds. "They’re enchanted for love!"

[Note to self: research mory erasure spells. Or witness protection programs. Or both.]

Behind , I hear them sliding romance manga under my door.

The covers make soft scratching sounds against the wood, like the physical manifestation of their endless hope that their buff daughter will finally find love.

I look at my phone. My workout playlist is still paused on "Champion’s Pride" - a song about crushing your enemies and standing alone at the top.

Sohow, it fails to be as inspiring when you’re staring at a pile of shoujo manga about muscle girls finding love.