Otaku Translation: Absolute Number One C78

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Chapter 78: Who Did I Offend This Time?

"Finally, they changed the time slot!"

As devoted fans of ’s previous season, , Nishino Sagiri, and Futazeno Seiko eagerly gathered in front of the TV. Sagiri, in particular, was thrilled. She preferred an early bedtime, and watching late-night dramas had always been a struggle. If not for her friends dragging her along, she would’ve opted to rent videotapes instead.

Late-night programming clashed with human nature, disrupting skin regeneration—a cardinal sin for young women. Placing quality shows during that time slot felt like a cruel joke. Now, at last, relief! What a blessing!

Seiko shared her excitement, clutching a small notebook. She hoped to glean inspiration from the series; her "adaptation" of had earned unexpected acclaim at school. During the cultural festival, their performance filled the auditorium from a sparse few to nearly eighty percent capacity—a personal triumph.

Aiko, though less overtly enthusiastic, eagerly munched on sakura rice crackers. "The season premiere is bound to be amazing," she mumbled. "I wonder what genre it’ll be."

"I hope it’s a heartwarming drama like . That was so romantic—loving someone across the span of time. It’s beautiful," Seiko chimed in, eyes dreamy. "If someone loved me like that, dying young wouldn’t feel like such a tragedy."

Under the fluorescent light, her smooth, porcelain-like complexion glowed faintly pink, resembling a delicate doll. Sagiri and Aiko exchanged knowing glances. Their friend’s romantic idealism was flaring up again. Without hesitation, they stuffed a large, soft sakura-flavored cracker into her mouth, laughing. "You fool! If you die young, your boyfriend will just move on. Do you really think those jerks will stay faithful?"

The oversized cracker distorted Seiko’s face, shattering her poised image. Flustered, she spat it out indignantly. "Stop assuming the worst of people!"

"You stop being so naive! You’re embarrassing us, S.B.G.G.!" Sagiri teased.

"How can it be naivety? True love exists!"

"That’s what men want you to believe—to trap you into serving them for free!"

"You—"

Before the argument escalated further, a clear, resonant gong sounded, echoing with a Zen-like clarity that silenced the trio. They instinctively covered their mouths.

After a moment, another gong rang out. Sagiri whispered, "Is doing her evening prayers?"

"It must be. Let’s keep quiet," Aiko replied. "She’ll finish soon and head downstairs to help in the restaurant. She won’t come back up until after closing."

As another gong reverberated, Seiko sighed wistfully. "Neiko-nee is so devout. Her serenity must be why she has such an ethereal presence."

Sagiri and Aiko nodded in agreement. Though only a couple of years older, Neiko exuded grace and tranquility. Described in clichéd terms, she was like a lily blooming in a secluded valley—both worldly and otherworldly.

Inspired by Neiko’s elegance, the trio had once tried to emulate her, but alas, charisma was elusive. Aiko remained spirited, Sagiri cunning, and Seiko superficially refined.

Minutes later, the creak of old wooden stairs signaled Neiko’s departure. The girls resumed their chatter at normal volume. Sagiri asked curiously, "We haven’t seen Neiko-nee for a few days. Where did she go?"

"She went traveling—to ," Aiko explained, retrieving a large box from the closet and showing her friends a stamped paper. "She brought me this from . It’s an unmanned station, so the stamp is quite rare."

Railway stamps were a unique aspect of Japanese travel culture. Each station had its own design, featuring the line name, station name, and local highlights. Travelers collected these stamps as mementos, akin to postcards.

Seiko, unfamiliar with distant travels, examined the stamp closely. Its green-blue fish motif intrigued her. Flipping through the box, she found several similar stamps from various lines and stations she’d never heard of. Curious, she asked, "Does Neiko-nee travel often?"

Aiko nodded. "Yes, almost every week since she arrived here six months ago. At first, she made day trips, but lately, she’s ventured farther."

Seiko marveled at this revelation. Sagiri, however, was more interested in other matters. Rifling through the box, she turned to Aiko accusingly. "Aiko-chan, isn’t a specialty of Shimanto? Neiko-nee didn’t just bring back a stamp, did she? Are you hoarding the apricots for yourself, refusing to share with your friends?"

Aiko froze, her expression guilty. Sagiri pressed on smugly. "Whenever I have snacks, I always share with you!"

Grudgingly, Aiko retrieved an unopened glass jar from the closet. "I wanted to save them for summer desserts!" she grumbled.

"Enjoy the present! Don’t save good things!" Sagiri ignored her protests, eagerly twisting open the jar. "I’ve only heard about these. This is my first taste!"

Aiko groaned. "They’re meant for shaved ice bowls in summer. Eating them like this is a waste—you’ll become a fatty!"

Unfazed, Sagiri popped an apricot into her mouth, delighted. Changing the subject, she exclaimed, "Look! Tales of the Unusual is starting!"

The trio turned their attention to the screen. After a moment, Seiko remarked, "The theme song changed…"

"It’s better than before. That’s a good sign—the network’s investing more in the show," Sagiri declared confidently. "Season two should surpass the first. Some parts last season were rough, clearly low-budget. If not for the strong scripts, it could’ve been a disaster."

Taking Sagiri’s word as gospel, Seiko nodded vigorously, readying her notebook to jot down key points. As the episode unfolded, her expression grew puzzled. Horror elements weren’t unusual, but the plot seemed predictable—a mere serial killer story?

was her idol now. Even if doubts lingered, she convinced herself there’d likely be a brilliant twist. Yet, as she watched, her pen paused mid-note. Nothing stood out as noteworthy. When the first short ended and Takeda’s segment began, Seiko hesitated, slightly disappointed.

There was a twist, but it felt forced—as if crafted solely for shock value. Unlike the previous season’s intricate unpredictability, this lacked depth. It wasn’t bad, per se, but it felt… lesser.

Uncertain how to articulate her thoughts, she asked tentatively, "What do you guys think?"

Sagiri, munching on apricots, shrugged. "It’s not as cleverly plotted as season one. I guessed the ending halfway through. Remember ? I spent three days unraveling that one—it still feels satisfying. This one’s okay, but mediocre."

Aiko, however, was deeply disappointed. As loyal fans, they deserved the best opening episode. Instead, they got something middling—neither good nor bad. Frustrated, she blurted, "That weasel must’ve lost his touch! His skills have plummeted!"

"How could you say that?!" Seiko staunchly defended her idol. "I thought it was great! The twist was surprising—I never guessed the killer. He’s maintaining his standards!"

But her confidence wavered. Seeking backup, she appealed to Sagiri. "Didn’t you say it was okay?"

Without hesitation, Sagiri shot her down. "I said ‘mediocre,’ not ‘good.’ It’s not terrible, but it’s nothing special."

"Then it’s because the plot’s too intricate—we didn’t grasp it fully on the first watch!" Seiko refused to yield, defending Chihara to the end.

Sagiri shrugged indifferently, continuing to snack. "Whatever you say. I don’t argue with fools."

Aiko, less forgiving, declared, "If the rest of the season’s like this, it’s a slap in the face to loyal fans. I’ll write an anonymous letter to the network complaining. That weasel’s probably too busy romancing to focus on work. Someone needs to knock him down a peg and remind him to respect the audience!"

---

Less than 500 meters away, Chihara Rinto was hunched over his desk, furiously sneezing. He couldn’t stop.

Puzzled, he checked his nose—no runny symptoms—and felt his forehead—no fever. But his nose itched relentlessly. Worried he’d caught a chill, he quickly added a layer of clothing. A cold was the last thing he needed right now.

Warm and cozy, he sat down to write three and a half lines before another barrage of sneezes struck. Perplexed, he wondered, "What’s going on? isn’t over yet, and hasn’t begun. It’s too early for !"

Could someone be cursing him? But this many sneezes? How many people were talking trash about him?

Who did I offend this time?

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