Didn't I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?! Volume 1

by Funa

  Making underpants was simple enough, she knew. Surely she could manage to sew some.

  Adele’s face glowed with intention as she attached thread to the four corners of the towel. Next, she put the cloth against her skin. All right. That feels good, she thought, then pinned it around the left and right sides of her waist and tried tying the threads.

  Slip.

  It was only natural that towel had slipped down—the threads only held around her thighs, as they weren’t tightened at her waist. Because she didn’t have any elastic, her new garment lacked structural integrity.

  She decided to try a new method. She draped the towel behind her and pulled the threads of the short end around the front of her waist and tied them there. Then, she pulled the towel up between her legs. However, when she pulled the cloth up to her waist, there was a lot left over.

  Hmm… If I don’t tie the threads first, then I can tie them from the inside at the front of my waist, right?

  She tried it and the result felt just right.

  Whoa! Adele thought. I made the perfect pair of underwear! I must be a genius. They’re easy to wear and amazingly comfortable. I bet if I sold them I could make a fortune!

  Of course, Adele had no idea that there was already a garment of exactly the same construction, known as fundoshi—a garment had been worn in the distant past, in her previous world. Even in her own, current world, such a thing was already worn by men as an undergarment…

  Okay, but having all this extra stuff hanging down in the front isn’t very cute… And if I wore pants over them, that would just be another place to get sweaty. That’s better!

  Adele cut the towel shorter and retied the threads, then tried on her new garment once more.

  This is it!

  She determined it was best to let the towel drape in the back, then pull that part around to the front and wrap the threads sewn at the towel’s corners around her waist to tie them.

  I did it! They’re cheap, simple, non-sweaty, and comfortable to boot! My days of purchasing expensive “drawers” are over!

  Gloating, Adele embroidered a little design onto her homemade underwear and felt quite pleased with herself.

  ***

  The following day, after lunch, and before physical training…

  The girls began changing from their uniforms into their gym clothes in the locker room.

  As Marcela began to undress, her eyes suddenly stopped on Adele, changing beside her.

  “Wh…?!”

  What Marcela saw was Adele, her upper garments removed, about to step into her gym trousers…and wearing her homemade underpants.

  “A-a-aaaaaah, Miss Adele!!!” Marcela shouted, red in the face.

  Their classmates turned to see what was going on.

  “Wh… wh-wh-wh-what are you wearing?! What on earth are those?!?!”

  “Oh, these? I made them myself! They’re great, aren’t they?! They aren’t itchy, or sweaty, and they’re super easy to make! If you all like, I’ll make some for every—”

  Marcela, who had been in the process of unbuttoning her blouse, buttoned it back up. She handed Adele her skirt, then grabbed her by the collar.

  “Huh? Why are we putting our uniforms back o… H-hey, Miss Marcela, where are we…?”

  With Adele keeping her strength limited to that of a normal girl, even a slight young lady like Marcela could easily drag her along.

  “U-um, but we have training now! Wh-where are we…?”

  Marcela shot Adele a terrifying look and walked faster, until they’d left the others far behind.

  ***

  “Where are Marcela and Adele?” Burgess asked.

  “They’re off having a special lesson about decency, modesty, and common sense,” Monika said.

  From her reply, Burgess could surmise the circumstances. “I’m marking Marcela as absent.”

  In the end, the two didn’t return until afternoon classes were over.

  ADELE’S MAGNIFICENT ACADEMY LIFE

  Story 2:

  DIY Natto

  I wish I had some Japanese food, Adele thought one day. However, she didn’t want to eat any fancy, high-class cooking.

  All she wanted were simple dishes: miso soup and natto and sashimi on rice.

  If she traveled to a seaside town, she might be able to eat fresh fish, but she would still have no wasabi or soy sauce.

  “Well, I can’t worry about what I don’t have, so I’ll have to try to make do! Plus, if I use a few cooking hacks, maybe I can save money!”

  Adele had read many books in her previous life, including one on fermented foods.

  “I’m definitely going to need some soy sauce, so I’ll get soybeans, wheat, brine, yeast germ… Yeast germ?”

  She had no idea what yeast germ even was nor where to get her hands on it. She probably wouldn’t even know it if she saw it. She wasn’t even sure it would be visible to the naked eye.

  “Well, that’s a no, then. Maybe I’ll start with miso instead! As far as I remember, the only things you need to make miso are soybeans, salt, yeast… Never mind!”

  Things were not going well. That little thing called yeast was standing in the way of all Adele’s ambitions.

  “Natto, then! Natto is just soybeans and natto-kin… That I know!”

  Thankfully, natto-kin were something that she did have some knowledge of. They were a variety of bacteria often found on rice stalks. When subjected to high heat such as boiling, all other varieties of bacteria died off, leaving only the natto-kin behind.

  She would have to wash and boil the soybeans, then mix in the bacteria. That seemed simple enough. Even if she failed, she could just keep experimenting and try it again. And, when she did finally succeed, she could make a lot, and store it in her loot box…

  PROLIFERATING BACTERIAL WEAPONRY IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

  “Huh?”

  PROLIFERATING BACTERIAL WEAPONRY IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. BYPASSING THIS RESTRICTION REQUIRES AT LEAST A LEVEL SEVEN AUTHORIZATION.

  Adele froze as the nanomachine voice pierced her eardrums.

  “Huh? No, um—it’s just natto, a food!”

  PROLIFERATING BACTERIAL WEAPONRY IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

  The nanomachines, which had always seemed fairly friendly, now sounded harsh and cold. Adele was speechless.

  “Wh-what do you meeeeeeean?!”

  And so, Adele’s Japanese cooking scheme was vanquished in a matter of moments.

  ADELE’S MAGNIFICENT ACADEMY LIFE

  Story 3:

  Wicked Girl

  O

  ne day, during lunch, a boy burst into the Class A classroom.

  “Which of you is Adele?”

  Whoa…

  The students were quiet under the boy’s glare.

  “Um, I’m Adele…” she said, speaking up.

  “Hm, you then?” He had a pompous air and scrutinized Adele rudely.

  “All right. I’m going to make you my woman!”

  Whaaaaaaaat?!?!

  The students hid their faces in their hands.

  Adele’s response was immediate. “I refuse.”

  “Wh-what?! Do you have any idea who I am?!”

  “No. I’m not very good with faces, so…”

  This much was true. Even in her previous life, she had always struggled to remember faces, even though she could recall names perfectly—as well as the date and time she had met someone, and what they had talked about. Faces were a no-go, and to be honest, that shortcoming troubled Adele greatly.

  “I am Chester von Closson, the third son of Viscount Closson, of Class C!”

  “Ah. Well then, what business do you have with me?”

  “I just told you! I’m going to make you my woman!”

  “But I already declined, didn’t I? If there are no other items, then I need to go ahead and prepare for afternoon lessons, so…”

  The boy was enraged. “I’m telling you, I am the third son of Viscount Closson! I’m not one of you peasant
s or low-ranking swine! How dare you speak to me that way!”

  Adele was not impressed by these words. “Oh? But everyone as this school is equal, aren’t they? Regardless of status? Didn’t you hear about this at orientation?

  “Furthermore, this is a school for commoners and lesser nobles, as well as the fourth or younger sons and daughters of barons and the like. The third son of a wealthy viscount attending classes here, and not Ardleigh Academy, isn’t really something to boast about, is it?”

  WHOOOOAAAAA!

  Adele’s classmates were blown away by her honesty. Chester was petrified.

  “Anyway, what on earth do you mean by ‘I’ll make you my woman’?!” she went on. “I am my own person. I am no one’s possession. And whatever could you mean by ‘make you’? You’ll do this without my will or consent? Honestly…!”

  Just then, someone clutched Adele’s arm. She turned to see Marcela, quickly shaking her head back and forth.

  The boy from Class C, named Chester, had been standing stock still, unmoving, for some time.

  As it was nearly time for afternoon lessons to start, Marcela began to fret, but it seemed as though someone had alerted Chester’s Class C peers, and a pair arrived to drag the still-frozen boy from the classroom.

  As they left, Adele gave the two a bright smile, and said, “Thank you so much.”

  “I-It’s no big deal!” they replied. “If you have any more problems, just call on us!”

  Adele hadn’t forgotten about Japanese politeness. Or was it feminine wiles that she was recalling instead?

  “Ugh! That ‘make you my woman’ thing was ridiculous. He’s probably just mimicking something that he heard from his father or older brother,” said Marcela. “I suppose he thought that if he could snag Adele, the gem of Class A, it would be a boon for his reputation. I wouldn’t worry over it.”

  “All right…” Adele said and nodded sincerely, thankful for Marcela’s advice.

  During lunch the following day, Chester stopped by the Class A classroom once again.

  “Adele, let’s go shopping together on tomorrow’s rest day!” he said.

  The class watched, worried. If a fellow classmate had extended a normal-seeming invitation to her, Adele wouldn’t have responded rudely. She wanted friends after all, both female and male.

  The thought of hanging out with a boy wasn’t totally foreign to Adele—she was, after all, accustomed to the idea of girls who were slightly boyish and full of energy, always playing soccer and baseball with the boys. Just like in the Tomboy Secchi series she’d read in her previous life…

  However.

  “I refuse.”

  “Huh? Why…?”

  Chester’s face was filled with disbelief. He had been turned down again, despite the fact that someone must have bestowed some wisdom upon him since the previous afternoon—judging by the proper invitation he had issued this time, at least.

  “It’s not that I’m not flattered to receive your invitation,” she told him. “However, I can’t afford to give up my free school lunch and eat out—nor do I have the money to buy unnecessary things. Plus, I already have plans for tomorrow…”

  That she was flattered to receive the invitation was all that Chester needed to hear.

  “I can pay for your lunch! How about next week?!”

  “Unfortunately, I have plans then, as well…”

  “Then how about the week after next?!”

  “Unfortunately, I have plans then, as well…”

  “Then how about the week after the week after next?!”

  “Unfortunately, I have plans then, as well…”

  “Then when the heck are you going to be free?!” Chester’s voice rose to an understandably frustrated cry.

  Was she still only messing with him, despite the fact that this time, he’d said all the right things?

  “Um, I work at a shop on every rest day. I don’t receive an allowance, so if I don’t work, I can’t afford ink or paper or new clothes or soap or anything.”

  “Uh…”

  “So that’s how it is. I can’t go hang out with anyone, no matter who they are. I’m very sorry…”

  She couldn’t hang out with anyone after school either, since the dorms had a curfew. Furthermore, Adele had no intention of skipping her free dinner.

  Chester sulked his way back to his own classroom.

  As for Adele’s classmates, well—from the moment Chester had arrived, they had been watching with concern—not for her, but for Chester.

  ***

  Then came the following rest day.

  Adele was working the bakery counter as usual when, just after midday, a single customer entered.

  “So, you’re here.”

  “Um, oh. Chester… right?” Adele said.

  “Do you still not remember me?!”

  That customer was, in fact, Chester.

  “It’s time to go hang out!” he said.

  “Oh, okay. Go ahead. I’ll see you later!”

  “You’re coming, too!” he said. “Do you really think I came all this way just to tell you that I’m going to hang out?!”

  “Huh? Did you not?”

  Chester slammed both hands on the counter. “Just come with me already!”

  “But I have to mind the shop…”

  “Just make that old couple over there do it!”

  “No. Those two are customers—they don’t work here…”

  Even Chester could see that it would be futile to try to make customers work in the shop, so he stood silently for a short while, thinking.

  “All right, then. I’ll buy everything.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m going to buy all the bread you have left. Then there’ll be no need for you to mind the shop, will there?”

  “Wh-what are you…?”

  “Smart, isn’t it?” he said.

  “It’s nonsense!”

  “Huh?” Chester was taken aback at Adele’s sudden rage.

  “This shop is open for all the people who need bread on the rest days, but you want to leave it empty?! You’ll buy all the bread just to drag me out? What a foolish deed—and a stupid plan of action!”

  “S-sorry…” Seeing Adele, whom he had always thought so cool and composed, suddenly angry, Chester was shocked and quickly apologized. It seemed that he was at least an honest boy.

  “Well, how about half, then?”

  “Huh?” Chester stared, unsure of what he was being asked.

  “I’m saying, how about you buy just half the bread?”

  “S-sure…”

  Faced with Adele’s suggestion and her bright smile, Chester unthinkingly agreed.

  ***

  “How did this happen…?”

  Chester plodded back down the road to the dorm, his arms overflowing with bread and a dark cloud hanging over him. Still, perhaps it had been a small price to pay, for the privilege of seeing Adele smile at him for the first time.

  The corners of his mouth lifted, just a little.

  ***

  “Well, Grandpa, what should we do about that one?”

  “I think the girlie’s got it covered.”

  “Reckon so…”

  The old timers in the bakery were part of an informal Secret Service who stopped by the bakery to protect Adele from bad men. Apparently, they had deemed that Chester was not a threat.

  ***

  In the future, when Chester stopped by the Class A classroom again, Adele’s classmates were no longer concerned. They had also deemed him harmless.

  Even if his attempts at flirtation were futile, it was fine if he just talked to Adele a bit, as long as he didn’t make her mad at him.

  While Adele would happily chat casually with both her classmates and students from other classes, it was clear that she had no intention of taking on a boyfriend, future life partner, or even prospective business partner at this point.

  Her classmates decided that Adele was simply too young to be thinking of ro
mance, not realizing the real reason for her standoffishness. Mentally, Adele was more than eighteen years old, after all—thus, to her, all of her classmates were far too young to be recipients of her romantic interest.

  This, of course, included a certain younger son of a viscount, who was vying desperately for her affections.

  Though she had no interest in romantic associations with boys, if they spoke to her, she would happily converse, and would gladly hang out with them at lunch and after school. When she wasn’t hanging out with Marcela and the girls, at least.

  Even while working at the shop, when boys spoke to her, she would offer them a friendly smile.

  As time proceeded, the number of boys who got the wrong impression grew.

  Thus, once again, the old woman at the shop muttered, “Hoo hoo hoo, you’re a wicked girl, Miss Adele…”

  Afterword

  Nice to meet you, everyone. My name is FUNA.

  I first registered with the story-sharing site Shousetsuka ni Narou (Let’s Be Novelists) some months ago, to further the dream I’ve had since elementary school of becoming a novelist. Honestly, I never truly thought that I would see that dream come true.

  Well, it’s a lie to say that I didn’t expect for it to happen at all—but it was a bit like feeling, “Wouldn’t it be great to win the lottery?” and certainly didn’t seem like a realistic expectation.

  This book’s publication comes not even four short months after the day I received that fateful e-mail from the publishers.

  So, it’s not Marci’s “One-Week Maid Story,” but a “Four-Month Novelist Story.”

  At the time, the serialization of this story had barely begun, and so, when I received the e-mail, I thought it was in regard to one of my previous works, which had already finished serialization. But no—they meant my new one! When the publisher approached me, there was hardly enough content to fill even a single volume, and although one portion had been published, I didn’t even know the overall direction of the story as a whole. I tried to persuade them over and over again to rethink this, saying, “Well, but, I don’t think this is going to be a school story. She leaves school pretty quickly,” and asking, “Are you really sure it’s alright to make a decision like this so soon?” They told me it didn’t matter.