JK Haru is a Sex Worker in Another World

by Ko Hiratori

  I called out to Mr. Endless Crimson Rain and said we should go home.

  He looked pretty smug with all those beat-up guys scattered at his feet.

  “Huh? Oh no. When I snap, I have this tendency to black out and go nuts. Did I do something again?”

  I told him that wasn’t necessary and that we should go, so we left together.

  I cast a disparaging look at Mr. Killak and the boyfriends of Miss Hasper and the other girls. It was possible they had been injured in ways they couldn’t recover from, but if the Sisters, who had worked so hard without alcohol to perfect their holy powers, cast a healing spell on them, they would be fine. How handy to have a Sister for a girlfriend.

  Miss Hasper and the others kept calling out to me, but I pretended I couldn’t hear them.

  Mr. Endless Crimson Rain pushed back his hard, red bangs (they didn’t go back, though) and smiled. “Man, it’s been a while since I got that pissed. I know it was to save you and all, but I didn’t mean to show my true powers. Don’t go getting another crush on me!”

  What I had seen was less him trying his hardest and more like his true nature. I really thought the peak of his coolness had been his bow all the way to the ground, but I lowered my head and thanked him.

  “You saved me. Thank you very much.”

  Mr. Endless Crimson Rain blushed and smiled.

  I think that was the first time I’d ever seen him be bashful. His face looked very much his age.

  “So you’re that strong if you actually try. Why did you quit the arena?”

  “Hm? Did I quit? I guess it’s more like I saw my limit.”

  “Limit? You’re still young, so I’m sure you can get stronger.”

  “What? I mean, to get stronger I’d have to work.”

  “So what about trying to work...?”

  “I would never do that. Why should I have to work if I have cheat abilities? No one needs to see that. Isn’t a fun, sexy life and battle events enough?”

  I didn’t really get what he was saying, as usual. But even if I could never be his lover, I realized that as an adventure partner, he was the quickest route to going after Miss Haru—I had to have his cooperation.

  “...I’ll have to ask Miss Lupe tomorrow.”

  “Huh? Did you say something? I’m one of those hard-of-hearing protagonists, so you’ll have to speak up.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Ah, I’m sure you confessed your love for me. I just know it. I really didn’t hear you, so could you please say it one more time?”

  I just accidentally said my plan to ask her to train you into a warrior, that’s all.

  Please don’t give it another thought.

  ＊

  Two weeks later, Miss Haru came back to Mr. Sumo’s restaurant.

  I just glared at her.

  “What? You’re still mad? I told you: I had to go into the woods, but I wasn’t going to take you, and it’s not because I’m trying to be mean or some—”

  “I understand that. I would just get in the way, and you didn’t want me to be in danger, right? I understand very well that you can’t go in there without someone you can really trust.”

  “Huh? Did something happen?”

  “Don’t worry about it. But I’m definitely going after you, so don’t let your guard down.”

  “What’s with the wild streak? That’s oddly off from the Kiyori I know. Who are you?”

  “Kiyori.”

  Just so you know, a bunch of stuff has happened to me while you were gone. But that had nothing to do with Miss Haru.

  “Something must have happened. Tell me, tell me. It’s like you got all tough when I wasn’t looking, and Lupe’s driving around dragging Chiba by a nose hook. I have no idea what’s going on!”

  I was wondering what was going on too, but I just said, “It’s nothing.”

  Next time I see Mr. Endless Crimson Rain, his nose might be a different shape.

  “You’re strong, huh, Kiyori?” Miss Haru murmured.

  Who was the one who pushed me away because I was weak? Isn’t that a contradiction?

  When I said that, Miss Haru said, “No, I didn’t say you were weak. You’re strong. To be blunt, you were a weirdo before, and so serious, always pushing valid arguments, not thinking about anyone’s feelings. At the same time, you have such a cute face, and huge boobs, and all the guys like you best, so I kind of hated you.”

  “You’re the first person to say it so clearly...”

  Really, I want to snap and black out...

  But I felt better, having found out the root of all my interpersonal problems. Going forward, I’ll do what I can to deal with it.

  “But Kiyori, you seem hard, but you’re soft. Or like, you’re flexible, but then rigid. Whatever my expectations are, you’ll betray them, so you’re fun to watch.”

  “I don’t really think that reaches compliment status, but should I put up with it and keep listening?”

  “Huh? Wasn’t I just complimenting you?”

  “No. You were saying you observe me like I’m a pet or something.”

  “Oh. Hee-hee-hee,” she laughed and said, “Then I’ll try to come up with something by next time.”

  It’s not as if I want to be complimented. But I would like it if she would tell me someday what it is about me that makes me strong.

  “I just want to be like you, Miss Haru.”

  She cocked her head to ask why.

  I got a little grouchy and said, “Because you’re strong. Seeing you with the strength to move forward on your own makes me jealous.”

  But Miss Haru clammed up and got absorbed in her thoughts.

  “...I’m actually the indecisive type that hesitates.”

  Then she told me what happened in the forest.

  She wasn’t scared to fight the demons. Widgecraft and his friends were used to it, and they were cautious, and everyone was strong. Even when they stepped past the farthest point they had ever gone, they didn’t panic, but just made their way toward the demon lord’s castle.

  But Miss Haru had stopped. She refused to go any farther.

  She said that once she got within view of the demon lord, she got scared.

  “Of course that would be scary. It’s not your fault, Miss Haru. The demon lord is a cold-hearted demon, the strongest and most evil being in this world, enemy of humanity and God—”

  “No, he’s not. He’s not like that.”

  “He?”

  “Sorry. I can’t say any more. I really can’t. I’m scared...to know the truth.”

  Miss Haru said, “It was raining,” and started to cry. “It was cold rain, super cold. It’s probably never stopped raining there for hundreds of years. It’s got to be his—”

  After that I couldn’t tell what she was saying. Miss Haru just sobbed painfully.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I hugged her. When I touched her slender back, I was seized with regret for the things I said, and I started crying too.

  How could I have been so insensitive as to ask her if she was sick of this place?

  She’s living here so fiercely.

  ＊

  “Nah, nah, sorry.” With tears still in her eyes, Miss Haru went home.

  I apologized, but Miss Haru wouldn’t have it, saying, “It’s nothing you have to say sorry for, Kiyori,” and we got tired of apologizing to each other, so we said goodbye.

  But I didn’t have the energy to go to the church (oh, and Miss Hasper was excommunicated—how awful), so I moved to the counter and had Mr. Sumo make me some tea.

  Miss Haru wasn’t there, so I had to pay for it, but lately I’ve had no problem drinking tea by myself, so sometimes I come to relax on my own.

  From the seat I picked I could see Mr. Sumo up close as he experimented with dainty foods.

  “You’re so passionate.” I waited until he took a break before saying anything so I wouldn’t be in his way while he thought up a new cake.

  Mr. Sumo smiled bashfully. “It�
��s my job,” he said, and got back to work.

  I heard he used to hate his family’s business and never helped out. He started working in the kitchen when Miss Haru started coming and only got into cooking because she was such a picky customer—everyone from his dad, the owner, to the regulars knew that.

  He had probably seen her crying just now.

  I’m pretty sure they were tears over some other guy neither of us know.

  “...Are you making that cake for Miss Haru?”

  I realized it was maybe a dense thing to ask, but when I want to know something, I want to know, so I asked him.

  “Y-Yes...” he mumbled, not pausing the work I was interrupting. “But if Miss Haru likes it, I know the other customers will like it, too. No one else has ever made food for women, so I could be the number-one chef... Well, that’s what Miss Haru said...”

  Maybe as he was talking he got embarrassed, because his voice got so tiny I could barely hear him at the end.

  Then I finally said it. Something unnecessary.

  “Are you okay not being Haru’s number one?”

  Mr. Sumo looked up.

  He didn’t get angry about my rude question, didn’t answer, but just smiled awkwardly.

  A pure-white finger left flour on his cheek. Without saying a word, he nodded vaguely and went back to work.

  I drank my tea and watched him.

  I watched his big, plump hands make delicate cake decorations. I watched him draw patterns with sauce on the plates.

  Then I remembered those fingers had had sex with Miss Haru—and I shivered down there.

  ＊

  So that’s what’s been up with me lately.

  Sometimes I get depressed, but I’m having sexy times every day.

  Speaking of sexy, Kiyori has been spending a lot of time alone in Sumo’s cafe lately. Lupe and I have been watching her, and when she looks at him, her eyes get sort of lusty. That might turn into something interesting.

  I haven’t been back into the woods since then.

  Widge invites me sometimes, but, mm, I dunno.

  I’ll go sometime, but my objective probably isn’t the same as Widge and his friends’, so I might get a new team together before I try it again. I’m looking for pals I can trust with my back.

  I’m not in a hurry, though. I know I’m still too low level to meet the demon lord, anyhow. And I’m still just a kid.

  Oh, also, God came by for the first time in a while.

  While he was fucking me, he complained that my price had gone up, and when he was done he was going to just leave, so I walloped him.

  “How is Shequraso? You’re taking 100 percent responsibility for making sure her next life, her next-next life, and her next-next-next life are perfectly happy, right?” I asked, wringing his neck.

  “I don’t know about her next-next life, but she did already pick her mom for her next life.”

  Oh.

  When I pressed him for details like if she’s rich, nice, pretty, or has great motherly morals, education, and a sense of responsibility, he laughed at me.

  “Uhhh, I think she’ll be poor her whole life, and her morals and education strike me as particularly suspect. But Shequraso seems sure she’ll be happy with her.”

  Huh. Is that lady really okay?

  I was worried because Shequraso has a tendency to make these sorts of important decisions in an arbitrary way. I need her to be happy, for real.

  So I ordered God to take responsibility and watch over Shequraso and that stupid mom of hers from now on. He did a nasty spit-take—“Boo-ha!”—and then said, “Sure, sure.” Then he laughed at me again and left.

  “Well then, I’ll stop by once in a while to check up on you.”

  Don’t come here, you idiot. Drop dead, God.

  I chased him out by throwing a meat bone at him and then wished upon a star that Shequraso’s next life would be happy.

  While I was at it, I wished for everyone in this world to be happy. And everyone in the other world.

  And then I wished that my wishes would reach someone responsible and not God.

  That’s it! This has been Haru from another world!

  Special Short Story: Status List

  So I’m a high-schooler, but I came to this other world and ended up a prostitute—that’s my dumb life right now, but I guess I got used to the work, and right when I was getting bored...I came across this sport called Kickin’ the Can.

  The days I spent with my team of adorable, gentle boys made me nostalgic for my younger days, and I got so hooked on the game that I let the quality of my work slip.

  But once the Kickin’ the Can tournament ended and all I had left was my job at the pub and brothel, I’ve felt like a kid in normal classes after the hustle and bustle of the Sports Festival.

  I can’t mope around forever, though, so I’ve been trying to boost my sales, but it’s just not going very well.

  “Oh, it’s Mister Chokey Idiot. Long time no see!”

  “Hmm? Oh, you’re still here, Haru. I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought you quit.”

  “Would I ever quit? Hey, seems like you’ve been cleaning up gambling lately, so how about with that cash, you and I—”

  “Heh, sorry. Tonight I’m set on Shequraso. I’ll do your flat ass another day, heh-heh-heh. Wait a sec, who’re you callin’ Mister Chokey Idiot?”

  “Oh, it’s Mister Naked Guitar Perv! It’s me, Mu-so-and-so from somewhere about the senses or something. Would you like to strum a tune with me?”

  “Oh, uh, right. Sorry, but I’m here to listen to Shequraso sing tonight, so if you’ll excuse me...”

  My eroticism, which had been so effective in awakening the innocent boys to their sexuality during the tournament, was treated like a childish game in the brothel full of pros, and the gap in customer attention pained me.

  Or rather, I felt like my intuition around the shop had dulled. That’s what I get for playing heroine to children.

  I’ll never reach my sales goals at this rate...!

  “Haru, that dress is cute. It looks great on you.”

  As I was fretting, our singing princess Shequraso complimented my new dress as she passed by the other side of the stage.

  I bought it with the prize money from Kickin’ the Can. Another one of the girls, Lupe, complimented it earlier. I’m just so happy that people are noticing. It cheers me up.

  It looks a bit like my high-school uniform. I’m really glad I bought it.

  Shequraso was up on stage, radiant as always. She has a truly beautiful voice, and she’s at peak cool when she’s singing like this. It’s hard to believe she’s the same one who got mad at me for sleeping in until right before the shop opened.

  Yeah. Everyone fights using their own weapons. When the pressure is on, they come through.

  And they still manage to look out for their friends. The atmosphere of the shop is important, you know. They’re great communicators who not only read the vibes, but can change them, too. I really admire that about the higher-ranking girls. The number-one girl is a bit unique, but everyone is amazing.

  So what’s my weapon, then? Is it that I’m the stupidest of us all?

  Being depressed is definitely a bad look.

  “Okay, let’s go, you guys!”

  I burst onto the stage to hype up the audience. Some people enjoy my wotagei and dancing from the other world, and I twirled around with the spectators who were into the music.

  It was really fun and all, but sometimes I feel like my place to shine is pretty limited.

  ＊

  “Are you stupid?”

  Later, a customer was lecturing me.

  When I was twirling around like crazy with the Shequraso otaku, I spilled someone’s drink. That’s like the number-one thing you’re not supposed to do.

  “I’m sorry, sir...”

  “And you were so loud, making a ruckus in the middle of the song. Some people want to listen in silence!”

  I h
ad my defenses: I only shouted between singing parts, and the band decides which songs are for partying to. I wasn’t just going nuts at random.

  But there definitely are some customers who just want to enjoy the music, and even though it was a hyper otaku who shoved me, it was true that I was the one who spilled the drink. I didn’t even realize the ring of dancers had reached the customers sitting down with their glasses, so that was my fault.

  I’m embarrassed, as a Shequraso otaku, to have committed such an error...!

  “A child like you jumping around without thinking degrades the shop. There aren’t many places you can listen to quality music like this, you know.”

  “Right...I’m sorry.”

  I guess I’m really not on today. Madam will scold me about this again later. I have to brace myself.

  The customer in front of me was still young, with well-defined features, but he seemed a bit neurotic. If he were a school teacher, some of the girls would probably like him.

  I don’t usually get along with that type, though. In junior high, I had a teacher who looked just like him who was always chewing me out.

  “Sheesh. And your skirt is so short.”

  “Ugh...sorry...”

  “You’re young, but you prefer this vulgar appearance? Did you not realize you’ve been flashing your underwear this whole time?”

  He really is just like my teacher. I used to get scolded for the same kinds of things.

  As he had me standing there to lecture me, he downed one drink after another. He kept grumbling, all the while ogling different parts of my body—my thighs, my chest.

  Then in a low voice, he gestured at me slightly with his jaw. “...How much?”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t come here to buy a woman. I only came to listen to Shequraso sing.”

  “Uh, okay?”

  “But then you bothered me and ruined my mood. And I have serious reservations about your capability as a working girl. I just happen to have time, and if I’m going to be disturbed in this manner in the future, I won’t be able to drink here in peace, so I thought I would give you an extended, private warning. How much to be shown to your room?”

  “It’s 80 rubers, but...”

  “Hmm. Well, that’s probably reasonable.”