Asami Manaka was fairly well known among Kitagijuku’s first-year students.
Despite being only a first-year, she had already secured the position of student council treasurer.
As mentioned before, Japanese high schools placed considerable importance on club activities.
Kitagijuku, being a school especially focused on the arts and athletics, valued them even more and provided its clubs with generous funding.
For example, the kendo and judo clubs, which frequently placed highly in national competitions, received at least six to seven hundred thousand yen from Kitagijuku every year.
After all, these clubs brought honor to the school and could attract prospective students who dreamed of participating in strong extracurricular programs.
Naturally, the school was willing to invest heavily in them.
Most of that funding was calculated and managed by the student council treasurer, with each club president submitting applications for the money their club needed.
In other words, the student council treasurer practically held a sword of authority.
Once you had that position, there would never be a shortage of people trying to get on your good side.
And for Asami Manaka to claim such a position while still only a first-year student…
Well, according to Ataru Ushirohara, that could only mean she was no ordinary girl.
She either ate people alive or had already left a few bodies buried somewhere.
Those, of course, were entirely Ushirohara’s conclusions.
Throughout his dramatic explanation, Tsukasa merely smiled and responded with the occasional, “Really?” or “I see,” without looking nervous in the slightest.
That only convinced Ushirohara that Tsukasa was unbelievably brave—a man with a heart of steel.
So he stopped trying to warn him and simply patted Tsukasa on the shoulder, silently wishing him luck.
Before long, lunchtime arrived.
Tsukasa got up and headed downstairs toward the open space behind the school building.
The area was famous throughout Kitagijuku as a popular confession spot.
In truth, its popularity had less to do with romance and more to do with privacy.
The place was secluded enough that even if someone confessed and got rejected, hardly anyone would witness the humiliation.
Their dignity would remain intact.
Over time, that practical advantage had turned the place into something of a tradition among the students.
Tsukasa spotted Asami waiting there long before he reached her.
He had to admit that the original Tsukasa’s taste in girls had been quite good.
Asami was petite, with neat short hair whose ends curled slightly inward.
Combined with her small frame, it gave her an especially cute and delicate appearance.
Someone else was standing beside her.
Fortunately, this wasn’t some painfully clichéd scene where another boy had appeared.
It was a long-haired girl.
Tsukasa had seen her during the school’s weekly morning assemblies.
She was Kitagijuku’s student council president, Aiko Kijo.
From what he remembered, the student council president had a rather sharp tongue.
She was apparently graduating this year as well.
Beyond that, Tsukasa knew almost nothing about her.
Without hesitation, he walked directly up to Asami and greeted her.
“I’m here.”
His calm, casual attitude immediately made Aiko frown.
Irritation flashed across her face.
“‘I’m here’?
That’s all you have to say?
You’re Tsukasa Higashino from Class A, right?
Do you realize you’ve ignored Asami for an entire month?
Do you have any idea how she feels?
Do you understand how awful that is?”
She fired three accusations at him in rapid succession, clearly intending to overwhelm him from the very beginning.
Tsukasa nodded.
…Huh?
That was it?
Just “Mm”?
Aiko froze at the sight of his calm nod.
She had seen plenty of boys confronted in situations like this.
Most became visibly uncomfortable.
Some avoided eye contact, while others desperately searched for excuses or tried to change the subject.
Tsukasa did neither.
He simply acknowledged what she had said without the slightest agitation.
That unexpectedly put Aiko in an awkward position instead.
With Tsukasa behaving so reasonably, her own aggressive attitude suddenly made her look like the villain.
Even the harsh words she had prepared beforehand became difficult to say.
But she was the student council president.
She had no intention of surrendering control of the conversation so easily.
“You’ve prepared yourself for this, haven’t you?
The reason we called you here is to talk about you and Asami breaking up.”
“That’s understandable.”
Tsukasa sounded perfectly reasonable.
His eyes were steady, his voice calm.
Once again, his reaction caught Aiko completely off guard.
He didn’t become furious as she had expected.
He didn’t protest, raise his voice, or even change expression.
He simply accepted the situation with composure.
“Y-You’d better understand!
You don’t deserve Asami anyway!”
For some reason, Aiko was beginning to get flustered.
Even she wasn’t entirely sure why.
Perhaps she had expected to see Tsukasa desperately begging Asami not to leave him.
Or perhaps his complete lack of anger simply made her uncomfortable.
“Yes.
I think what you’ve said is perfectly reasonable, Kijo-senpai.
But I’d still like to hear what Asami herself thinks.”
Tsukasa nodded seriously.
Although circumstances had forced him to inherit the role of the original body’s irresponsible boyfriend, he still wanted to hear Asami’s feelings directly.
There was no hidden motive behind it.
He simply hoped this innocent high school romance wouldn’t leave the young girl unnecessarily hurt.
Asami, who had been silently watching the exchange, finally showed a change in expression.
She looked at Tsukasa and felt an inexplicable anxiety rising inside her.
She had been the one to suggest breaking up in the first place.
Yet now that the moment had actually arrived, seeing no reluctance or unwillingness on Tsukasa’s face left a strange knot of frustration in her chest.
Asami sighed.
“Higashino-kun, you understand, don’t you?
Even if you want to keep dragging this out, there’s no longer any meaning in continuing our relationship.
I think we should look at this more rationally.”
Part of her wanted to regain control of the situation.
At the very least, she wanted to see him try to stop her from leaving.
“I understand.”
Tsukasa smiled but didn’t say much more.
“I’m sorry, Manaka-san.
I gave you some unpleasant memories.”
With that, he smiled at Aiko as well, turned around without hesitation, and walked away.
There was no melodramatic attempt to win her back.
No sentimental line like, “I hope you’ll be happy even after I’m gone.”
The relationship simply ended there, carried away by the wind as though it had never existed, never to return.
Huh?
He’s just…
leaving?
Aiko and Asami had technically achieved exactly what they came here to do: they had gotten Tsukasa to agree to the breakup.
So why did it somehow feel as though the two of them had lost?
“He was even smiling…”
It had been a gentle smile—neither arrogant nor irritated, but calm and quietly confident.
Even Asami hadn’t expected that.
The main reason she had asked Aiko to accompany her was because she had been worried Tsukasa might lose control and refuse to accept the breakup.
Having an older student like Aiko there was supposed to serve as insurance.
But that precaution had turned out to be completely unnecessary.
The two girls looked at each other, equally stunned.
Asami couldn’t shake the feeling that Tsukasa had suddenly become much more sensible than before.
More mature.
More confident.
They had prepared many things they wanted to say, yet none of them had gotten the chance.
Tsukasa simply hadn’t “cooperated” with the breakup scene they had imagined.
Meanwhile, Tsukasa headed toward the principal’s office.
He wasn’t exactly grinning from ear to ear, but inwardly he felt relieved.
Good.
His relationship with Asami had been settled cleanly without causing any unnecessary trouble.
With that thought, he stopped and looked up at the sign hanging in front of him.
Principal’s Office.
Tsukasa didn’t linger outside.
He raised his hand and knocked on the door.
“Excuse me.”
Then he opened it and walked inside.
His movements were so natural that he almost looked as though he were entering his own home.
The first thing visible inside the principal’s office was a massive display cabinet bearing the words KITAGIJUKU HONORS AND ACHIEVEMENTS.
It was packed with certificates, awards, and trophies of every kind.
There was a Silver Award from the Tokyo High School Youth Art Competition, a trophy from the National Judo Tournament, and all sorts of other honors crowded together inside.
One of the glass panels on the cabinet had apparently been damaged, however.
A noticeable crack ran across it.
Tsukasa paid no attention to the glittering display.
Instead, he looked toward the man standing beside it.
A familiar smile appeared on his face as he strode over.
“I’m back again, Principal Yoshimine.”
“Ah.
It’s you again, Higashino-kun.”
Principal Yoshimine was a middle-aged man wearing round-framed glasses.
His hair was so thin and sparse that it looked as though a strong gust of wind might carry away what little remained.
Tsukasa had already visited the office many times and spoken with him on several occasions, so he knew that despite his appearance, Principal Yoshimine was actually a fairly easygoing man.