"So, by the way, what's your name?"
The conversation started casually.
"You can call me Hisui Umino, but the rest is a secret."
I crossed my index fingers in an "X" and gave a wry smile.
Come to think of it, this was the only answer I could give, which was a bit troubling.
"Ugh..."
Several people suddenly clutched their chests and started writhing.
Acid reflux? Or is heartburn trending now?
I remembered how tough that could be and considered it someone else's problem.
But now that I thought about it... who even was I in this situation?
I wasn't really sure myself. Culturally, historically, and even in terms of this world's timeline, I felt like an outsider.
By my common sense, the male-to-female ratio in the world should be around 5:5—maybe 6:4 at most, based on experience.
With slightly more men, pairing up often left someone out, and they weren't exactly cherished. The image of some pseudo-feminist yelling, "Men should just die," popped into my mind.
That world over there... it really was a mess, huh?
Something like a 1:100 ratio, as you'd see in a magazine or newspaper headline, was just incomprehensible.
Sure, it was trendy in fiction, but that was it.
Now that I thought about it, I probably didn't have an ID, a family registry, or anything like that. My wallet, which should have contained my insurance card and driver's license, was missing.
That meant my only possessions were my body—my arms, legs, and head.
Well... I'll figure something out, I guess?
I tilted my head in thought.
"What's wrong?!"
Misago appeared, sprinting barefoot at full speed.
She was slightly out of breath, her skin flushed a soft pink from the exertion. Her yukata had shifted due to her running, leaving her in a rather precarious state.
My eyes were drawn to the edge where the fabric met her chest and thighs.
I'd already seen her naked, but this kind of wardrobe malfunction had its own appeal.
That stupid thought crossed my mind.
"Here, here, you're all disheveled. Honestly, you're so careless."
A moment later, a maid appeared out of nowhere and draped a coat over Mizago.
Realizing her state, she blushed slightly, turned away, and started fixing her clothing.
She didn't seem particularly embarrassed about it.
Once she was done adjusting herself, she spun around with a satisfied "All good!" expression.
Everyone was watching with warm, knowing smiles.
"Uh, so... earlier, some reporters took a bunch of photos of me. They asked if they could publish them nationwide. I'm not really familiar with this kind of thing, so I called you, Misago, for help."
I briefly explained the situation and bowed my head, leaving the rest to her.
"Well, you didn't even need to ask. I understand. I'm glad you called me."
After a brief moment of flustered hesitation, Misago's eyes sharpened. She sat down on the sofa beside me.
"So, which newspaper are they from?"
She was in full work mode now, her tone professional as negotiations began.
This novel has been lovingly translated by https://www.patreon.com/Jenuinez_translation