Akira slowly retracted his gaze from Suzune’s retreating back, a distinct trace of confusion flashing through his dark eyes.
‘Stop looking back at me in the future?’ He was absolutely certain he hadn’t misheard her parting words.
It didn’t fit her established behavioral pattern at all.
Given her usual prickly disposition, she should have thrown a freezing glare in his direction, followed by a textbook-standard barrage of venomous critiques until his self-esteem was reduced to ash.
Instead, she had left him with a cryptic request.
“Hey, you must be Shimizu-kun!” Before Akira could fully process the interaction, a boy approached him with unearned familiarity.
Akira turned his head, finding three male classmates flanking him.
They eagerly introduced themselves one by one: Kanji Ike, sporting sharp, eager eyes; the remarkably average-looking Haruki Yamauchi; and Ken Sudo, whose red hair and aggressive posture practically screamed delinquent.
Since Akira had missed the initial homeroom self-introductions, Ike enthusiastically took on the role of social liaison, pointing out various classmates across the gymnasium.
However, the impromptu orientation quickly derailed.
Yamauchi, standing beside them, began loudly broadcasting his crude, unfiltered assessments of the female students.
He pointed out how Haruka Hasebe’s figure was absolutely stunning, and noted that Airi Sakura, despite her heavy slouch and shy demeanor, possessed excellent curves hidden beneath her uniform.
When his gaze shifted to Kei Karuizawa, he clicked his tongue.
“Her face is top-tier, impeccable really, but her bust is a total pity—” Yamauchi made zero effort to lower his volume.
Consequently, several girls in the vicinity were already casting venomous, disgusted glares in his direction.
Oblivious, or simply uncaring, Yamauchi continued his commentary with mounting excitement.
“Hmm!
Kikyo Kushida is definitely the grand prize!
Great personality, amazing figure, and her face perfectly matches my ideal type!
It’s decided, I’m going to make her mine!” He then nudged Akira, winking conspiratorially.
“I’m really jealous of you, Shimizu-kun!
Horikita-san seems to only be willing to talk to you today; looks like you have a massive head start!
After all, she is seriously good-looking.” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a sleazy whisper.
“Although her figure is a bit on the flat side right now, maybe she’ll develop more in the future if you—” Akira swept his gaze across the immediate area.
The surrounding girls wore expressions of undisguised revulsion.
As a teenage guy, he wasn’t entirely incapable of understanding the idiot’s hormonal thought process…
but they were standing in the middle of the gymnasium.
Half the freshman class was still milling about.
Keeping those thoughts locked inside one’s head was fine, but broadcasting them out loud was social suicide.
If this continued for even another minute, Akira knew he would be dragged down with them, permanently labeled as a creepy pervert by sheer association.
He would lose all basic social standing, and any potential mating rights, on the very first day of school.
“Yamauchi,” Akira interrupted, his voice flat and devoid of warmth.
“I highly suggest you learn to read the room, assuming you actually want to find a girlfriend before graduation.” After delivering the warning, he offered a brief nod to Ike.
“Thanks for the introductions.
I’m leaving.” “The hell are you acting so high and mighty for?!” Embarrassed and suddenly furious, Yamauchi lunged forward, reaching out to grab Akira’s collar.
“Aren’t you a man—” Before the sentence could leave his mouth, Akira moved.
His hand snapped upward like a striking viper, locking onto Yamauchi’s wrist with terrifying precision.
Yamauchi froze, horror dawning on his average features.
This guy, who looked like a quiet, unassuming herbivore, had locked his wrist in a vice grip.
No matter how hard Yamauchi yanked, twisted, or struggled, he couldn’t move his arm a single inch.
‘This guy…
even though his build is basically the same as mine…’Cold sweat rapidly beaded on Yamauchi’s forehead.’Why the hell is he so strong?!’ Akira’s expression remained perfectly indifferent.
He didn’t blink.
He simply applied a fraction more pressure to his grip.
Yamauchi’s face instantly contorted into a grimace of sheer agony, his knees buckling as his body twisted uncontrollably to alleviate the crushing force.
“Ah—it hurts, it hurts, it hurts!
Let go!” The pathetic scream instantly shattered the ambient noise of the gymnasium, drawing the attention of dozens of students.
Not only did Karuizawa and Kushida from Class D turn to look with wide, surprised eyes, but students from Class B and Class C also paused to watch the spectacle.
Akira calmly scanned his surroundings.
Noticing the rapidly multiplying gazes locking onto them, he finally released his iron grip.
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a chilling, measured whisper meant only for the idiot in front of him.
“When it comes to actual strength, you don’t seem much like a man at all.” His tone grew darker, carrying the weight of a physical threat.
“If there is a next time, I’ll make sure you can’t hold a pair of chopsticks with this hand for three months.” Yamauchi cradled his rapidly reddening wrist, a violent tremor wracking his frame as he met those dead, icy eyes.
Ike finally snapped out of his stupor, hurriedly stepping between them with a forced, nervous laugh to smooth things over.
“H-Hey, you two, getting into a brawl on the first day of school is bad, right?
It would be a total disaster if you got a disciplinary record right away.
It could affect our graduation!” In truth, they had all just met; there was zero actual camaraderie between the three of them.
Ike’s intervention was driven purely by social preservation rather than any genuine desire to protect Yamauchi.
Sudo, meanwhile, watched Akira with a newfound look of surprise, silently re-evaluating the quiet student.
The red-haired delinquent was far more interested in the martial skill Akira had just casually displayed—the flawlessly agile pivot, and the terrifying raw strength required to completely subdue a struggling peer with one hand.
“You’re right, Ike-san.
Sudo-kun.
I’ll be going then.” Akira didn’t care enough to linger.
He had delivered his warning.
He turned his back on the trio and walked toward the gymnasium exit.
A moment later, Kushida approached the remaining boys with light, bouncy steps, her head tilted at an adorable angle.
“What’s wrong with everyone?
Why were you arguing all of a sudden?” She pressed her hands against her chest, her large eyes swimming with genuine-looking worry.
Yamauchi, as if her presence had just returned his soul to his body, immediately began complaining with indignant rage.
“…Tsk…
I just made a few harmless comments about Horikita, and that guy suddenly flipped a switch and acted like a completely different person!
It’s completely baffling!” He waved his uninjured arm in exaggerated disbelief.
“Could it be that they’re already dating or something?” “Yamauchi!
Can you just stop?” Ike frowned, finally losing his patience with his new acquaintance.
“They’re just ordinary classmates talking.
They sit next to each other, so of course they interacted.
There was absolutely nothing out of line.
Can you not be so extreme about everything?” “Because of Horikita-san…?” A fleeting, hard-to-detect shadow flickered through Kushida’s bright eyes, but it vanished in a microsecond, instantly replaced by her trademark gentle smile.
“Alright, alright!
I firmly believe Shimizu-kun didn’t mean any real harm.
After all, he’s the kind of person who gives up his seat to elderly women on the bus!
What our class needs most right now is unity.
So, Yamauchi-kun, can you let this matter pass…
for my sake?” “…Alright!
Since you’re the one asking, Kushida-san…” Yamauchi rubbed his bruised palm with a pretentious sigh, desperately trying to act magnanimous and cool.
Internally, he was thrilled, convinced this was the perfect opening to get closer to the girl of his dreams.
Just as he opened his mouth to smoothly invite her to a karaoke session, he realized she had already spun around on her heels and was cheerfully jogging over to a group of students from another class.
Yamauchi’s hand, extended halfway in a welcoming gesture, hung awkwardly in the empty air.
A short distance away, a tight-knit circle of four girls was already whispering furiously.
“Hmph!
Serves him right!” Satsuki Shinohara crossed her arms, glaring at Yamauchi’s back.
“Someone needed to teach that creep a good lesson!” Chiaki Matsushita’s eyes were practically sparkling.
“Who cares about that disgusting Yamauchi anyway?
The guy has nothing but lewd garbage rattling around in his head!
But did you guys see that?
That martial arts move Shimizu-kun just pulled off—it was totally gorgeous, wasn’t it!” Nene Mori coughed lightly, teasing her friend.
“Wait, who was it that just declared Hirata-kun the most handsome guy in the entire school five minutes ago?
You change your mind faster than flipping a magazine page.” “Oh, shut up!
Hirata-kun is obviously very handsome…
but the cold way Shimizu-kun looked just now was even cooler!” Matsushita suddenly dropped her voice to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper, leaning in close to her friends.
“Think about it.
If you could date a guy like that, you’d definitely feel super safe all the time!
You would never have to worry about being bullied by anyone ever again!” Kei Karuizawa, who had been standing silently on the edge of the circle, suddenly raised her head.
A strange, sharp light flashed in the depths of her eyes.
‘…Not being bullied?’ [Inorin’s Note: Hey guys, hope you’re enjoying the novel!
Hate waiting for updates and cliffhangers?