Ryuji’s mind and vision were hazy, his body moving without his command. He felt the rhythm of his own hips, the friction of his manhood been wrap in warm wet flesh, a pleasure he did not choose. A woman’s moan reached his ears, soft, breathy, filled with feelings of pleasure. His right hand cupped something soft and elastic. Understanding dawned with cold, sickening clarity. He was on top of a woman, moving inside her.
“R-Ryuji…” Her voice came weak, familiar. Horror shot through him as he realizes who that voice is. Soon his vision cleared, and now look directly at the woman he is having intimate with.
Beneath him was Shiranui. Naked, exposed, her face flushed, her eyes clouded with a mix of sensation. Seeing her like this sent a jolt through him, a primal heat that only amplified his body’s lust. Causing his body, not in his control, to moved faster.
“R-Ryuji… I’m… close!” Her broken whisper coincided with a building pressure within him, deep and inevitable. Terror seized him. ‘Pull out… Stop!’ But his muscles would not obey. He tried to speak, to shout, but his voice was locked in his throat, a prisoner in his own body.
And with one final, thrust, he released his load.
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“AAAAHHH!!!!”
Ryuji woke up screaming, his body drenched in cold sweat, his breathing ragged. It was just a dream, but it felt terrifyingly real. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm the panic still clawing at his chest.
“Ryuji, what’s wrong?” Shiranui stirred beside him, her voice thick with sleep. She reached out to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, but the moment she touched him, he flinched hard and pulled away.
“It’s nothing!” he said, forcing his voice steady. “Just a bad dream. That’s all.”
He tried to sound reassuring, but the dream had left him shaken, and uncomfortably aware of her presence. Worse yet, as the adrenaline faded, a hot, mortifying realization settled in.
‘Shit, I creamed my pants.’ It wasn’t too bad, as long as Shiranui didn’t notice. At least he hadn’t wet the bed, now that would’ve been humiliating.
He looked at the clock, 5 a.m. ‘I need to wash up. I feel disgusting.’ “I’m going to take a shower.” he murmured, standing up quietly. He gathered a towel and the academy uniform from the chair. Even at this hour, there were things that he can do to past the time. Like bringing the rest of his clothes from the Sanctuary to his room, sorting what needed laundering and make bentos for him and Yukikaze.
“A shower? This early?” Shiranui murmured, her voice still thick with sleep, but touched with concern.
“Yeah. Usually when I wake up this early, I have trouble falling back asleep. Figured it’s better to just shower and start the day fresh.” With that, he slipped quietly out of the room and made his way to the bathroom.
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[Bathroom]
The sound of the shower turning on cut through the morning silence, followed by the steady patter of water hitting the floor. The water was cold, intentionally so. He hoped the chill would shock him awake and push the dream out from his mind.
‘This world is already corrupting my dreams,’ he thought grimly. What was next? Would it warp his personality? Turn him into some kind of… sex pest?
…
“FUCK NO!” the mage cursed aloud. He could already picture it, becoming a piece of shit who would do anything to take advantage of a woman: blackmail, hypnosis, aphrodisiacs…
‘Calm down. I’m overreacting. I don’t have much experience with romance, so the chances of me picking someone up are zero. Plus, I’m not good-looking. I should be fine.’ He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Think of something else. The Academy.’
He began to imagine what the academy might be like. Maybe it would resemble a military academy, with strict, rough training. Would they have to fight demons there as well? Like how the Militia trained its recruits, using captured monsters as training partners? Wait, this was the future; they must have something more advanced, like a simulation room.
His mind began to calm down, allowing clearer thoughts to surface. It wasn’t the best start to his day. But then again, when had his life ever begun smoothly? As long as he didn’t attract trouble, he’d be fine.
‘Trouble…’ Should he avoid talking to the other students altogether? Most of them probably came from established clans. If he accidentally offended the wrong one, he could become a target for bullying, or worse, they might send assassins to quietly remove him for causing embarrassment.
Could he rely on Shiranui or Asagi if things went badly? Probably not. They were individuals who, despite wielding considerable influence in the village, still had their limits. If a clan with real power decided to move against him, neither would likely be able nor willing to shield him.
“ARGH!” The shouts burst out of him before he could stop it, stress boiling over as he mentally played out the worst possibilities. Ryuji was beginning to regret ever coming to this village. He was stuck here now, unable to run even if things turned dangerous, all thanks to that damned soul contract.
‘If only I’d been more patient… maybe I could have found the Tokyo Branch instead.’
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was no point dwelling on what if. Right now, he just needed to prepare.
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As the sun slowly rose, Yukikaze was preparing for the academy. She put on her uniform, tied up her hair, and went downstairs for breakfast. As she entered the kitchen, she spotted her mother and Ryuji already eating.
“Good morning, Mama. Good morning, Ryuji.”
Her mother greeted her with a bright smile. “Good morning, Yukikaze.”
'CLICK.'
Shiranui had taken a photo of her daughter. It was the first time she’d seen her in the academy uniform, and she already knew she’d want to show this picture to her future grandchildren.
“Mama, what was that?”
“Oh? Just a picture. Don’t worry about it.”
Before Yukikaze could respond, Ryuji spoke up.
“Morning. Have some breakfast,” he greeted, gesturing toward the food.
Yukikaze sat down at the table and looked over the meal: tamagoyaki, rice, and miso soup. She took a bite, it was simple, but refreshingly good. After so many mornings of plain toast and eggs, it felt nice to have a proper home‑cooked breakfast again.
“I’ve missed your cooking so much, Mama.” she said, taking another bite.
“I didn’t make breakfast, Yukikaze.” Shiranui replied, taking a sip of coffee.
Hearing this, Yukikaze glanced over at Ryuji, who smirked at her reaction.
“Thanks, Yukikaze.” he said, a hint of playful pride in his voice. “Glad my cooking’s good enough to remind you of your mother’s.”
She pouted, her face flushing red as tiny sparks of electricity crackled around her. ‘This guy just doesn’t let up. Every chance he gets…’ But today, she’d get him back. PE class was the perfect opportunity. ‘Just wait, Miyatake Ryuji. I’ll shock you until you pass out.’
“Oh, here’s your bento.” Ryuji added, sliding a neatly packed box toward her. “I packed some of last night’s leftovers croquettes and salad. Also threw in some tempura, tamagoyaki and plain rice.”
‘Alright… maybe just five seconds of shocking.’ she conceded internally, the crackling energy around her fading to a faint, harmless shimmer. She took the bento and carefully placed it in her bag, her earlier resolve softening just a touch. It was hard to stay properly angry at someone who made sure you had a good lunch.
“So, Ryuji, are you excited to be attending the academy?” Shiranui asked. It was his first day, so he must be nervous.
Ryuji sighed, his face scowled. “I’m going to what’s basically a military academy. What’s so fun about that?”
“Oh, it’s not exactly like the military. It’s actually a bit more like a high school.” she explained, hoping this might lift his spirits.
“It’s a school. What’s actually exciting about that?”
Shiranui couldn’t find a way to answer, and Ryuji’s grumpy mood only deepened.
The mage sighed. ‘She’s just worried about me, no need to act like a jerk.’ “Sorry. I just don’t feel well this morning. I had a terrible dream, and it just kept getting worse.”
“Oh, it must have been a bad one. You woke up shouting.”
“Uh, yeah…” He blushed and averted his eyes.
Yukikaze watched Ryuji, curious what kind of dream could make him react like that.
“Are you alright, Ryu—” Shiranui began, but Ryuji cut her off.
“I’m fine! I need some fresh air. I’ve already finished breakfast, so I’ll wait for you outside, Yukikaze.” With that, he hurried out the door.
“Weird,” was all Yukikaze could say.
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As they made their way through the village toward the academy, a heavy silence lingered between them. None of them spoke, each unsure of what to say to break the tension.
“Hey, we’re going this way.” Yukikaze said, gesturing for Ryuji to follow her down a side path.
“Huh. This is different from the road we took yesterday.” Ryuji noted, glancing at the unfamiliar surroundings.
“That’s because we’re going to meet up with Rinko and Tatsurou.”
“Oh. Those two.” Then he remembered something. “Hey, how your date with Tatsurou?”
“Guh!” Yukikaze stumbles as Ryuji mention that. “W-well, we haven't gone out yet. We’re busy with our training and education. We shouldn’t waste time on something like this.”
“Sound like an excuse.”
“Shut up!”
Then they both notice the siblings waiting for them. Yukikaze rush to greet them while Ryuji take his time walking.
“Good morning, Rinko-senpai! Tatsurou-kun!” Yukikaze called out, her voice bright with energy.
“Morning, you two.” Ryuji added, his tone more relaxed as he approached.
They exchanged greetings, and the group began making their way toward the academy. Yukikaze and Tatsurou fell into step ahead, chatting easily. Rinko and Ryuji followed a few paces behind, walking in a silence that felt more observant than awkward.
Wanting to learn more about the mage, Rinko decided to break the quiet. “So, Ryuji,” she began, her voice even and polite, “how do you feel about attending the academy?”
“Eh, I don’t have many expectations,” Ryuji replied. If anything, he was braced for the worst.
“Aren’t you at least curious what the academy is like?”
“Shiranui-san said it’s similar to a high school. If that’s true, there’s not much to get excited about.” It’s a school, who gets excited about that?
“Well, what about combat training?” Rinko pressed. “Doesn’t that interest you? Especially the combat simulation room.”
“Simulation room…” Now that piqued his interest. “How advanced is it? Can it simulate environments and objects? How accurate are the enemy behaviours? Must use some powerful AI.”
“I’d say it’s quite advanced. It can accurately recreate environments and opponents to the point where it’s hard to tell the simulation from reality.”
“Really? I’d like to try it, though I’m not sure if I need much training.”
“What do you mean by that?” Rinko hoped he wasn’t the arrogant type who thought he was already at his peak.
“It’s just… I’ve heard from a lot of my teachers that there’s only so much you can be taught. If you want to get stronger, you need real experience.”
“Teachers?”
“I’ve been taught by a lot of different people. My dad taught me how to wield magic and basic hand-to-hand combat. My swordsmanship comes from a talented, if delinquent, swordsman. And when it comes to battlefield tactics, that was from a rather eccentric, one-eyed captain who spoke in a pirate accent. He was… hard to understand, to say the least.”
“I see…” Rinko could believe the first two mentors, but a pirate captain? She kept her expression neutral, deciding not to question it aloud. “Well, there’s still plenty the academy can teach you. I could teach you some of my own swordsmanship during PE class.”
“Sure,” Ryuji replied. “If it helps me improve with a sword, I’m willing to learn.”
“Say, senpai, how did you get so strong?” Tatsurou asked, genuinely curious. He wanted to know how Ryuji had reached that level at such a young age, though part of him felt a twinge of disappointment at the possibility that Ryuji might simply be a prodigy. “What kind of training did you do?”
“Hmm.” Ryuji thought for a moment. “I guess it started when I was six. My father began teaching me magic and training my body. At seven, he started me on basic martial arts. By the time I turned eight, I was already fighting in real combat.”
“Oh, like sparring with other students, right?” Yukikaze guessed, assuming he meant controlled training matches.
“No, nothing like that. We didn’t have a dojo, and I was his only student.” He hesitated, unsure how they’d take this next part. But these were ninjas, surely they’d endured tough training themselves just like him. “You see… my father would take me to underground fight clubs.”
And just as he expected, they reacted with stunned silence. Yukikaze and Tatsurou stared wide-eyed, while Rinko’s calm expression tightened slightly, her gaze sharpening as she processed what he’d just admitted.
“My father believed it was better to gain experience in actual life-or-death fights than in controlled sparring matches.” Despite how it sounded, like a father subjecting his child to abuse in the name of strength, there was a cold logic to it. “Mages are superhuman. Even an amateur could take down a professional boxer. So, fighting a bunch of bloodthirsty fighters gave me far more valuable experience than sparring with children my own age ever could.”
“I can understand the logic,” Rinko said. “If you have no equal to push you, you can’t grow. But… the underground fights weren’t all he had you do, were they?”
“Quite perceptive,” Ryuji replied with a smirk. “After I had beaten all the regular underground combatants, my father escalated. He moved me to fight clubs where death was encouraged. Then he escalated again: clearing out infestations of hostile spirits. After that, it was hunting monsters. And finally… fighting another mage.”
Rinko listened, her expression unreadable, but her mind working through each grim milestone. The logic was brutal, but undeniable.
“I see,” she said quietly. “So your foundation isn’t technique or theory. It’s survival.”
“Correct…” His expression softened with a hint of sadness. “My father wanted me to survive, to live a long life. That’s why he trained me so harshly. It was never just about getting stronger. It was about being ready… for whatever came next.” He paused, his gaze distant. “There are still people out there hunting the Miyatake bloodline, and my father knew he couldn’t stay by my side forever.”
The three of them could only stay silent after this revelation. But the one hit hardest was Tatsurou.
“Senpai, I…” he began, his voice thick with something between apology and helplessness.
“You don’t need to apologize,” Ryuji interrupted gently but firmly. “I’ve already made peace with it, and please don’t think too negatively about my dad. He did his best to raise me, in the only way he knew how.”
Ryuji sigh, his first day of the academy, and he already made the mood drop so low. Well, what can he do about it? “Hmm, say, how hard is the curriculum of this academy?” Changed the subject, to focus on helping him fit in to the academy.
“Oh, it’s not too hard as long as you keep up with the material.” Yukikaze offered, her voice regaining some of its usual energy.
“Yeah, the written exams are fair,” Tatsurou added, seeming grateful for the change in topic. “It’s the practicals that can get intense.”
Rinko nodded. “The instructors expect discipline, but they’re not unreasonable. You’ll manage.”
Ryuji kept them talking, asking about class structures, notable teachers, even the cafeteria food. Anything to fill the silence and ease the lingering heaviness. Slowly, the conversation found a lighter rhythm.
By the time the grand gates of Gosha Academy came into full view, the atmosphere among them had softened, settling into something closer to normalcy.
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They went their separate ways to their respective classes. Ryuji, however, headed to the teachers’ lounge to meet the instructor who would be his homeroom teacher and guide him to his classroom.
“You’re Miyatake Ryuji, correct? I’m Hasuma Reiko. I’ll be your homeroom teacher this year.” She carried herself with the air of a strict educator, yet Ryuji sensed an undercurrent of concern in her demeanour.
“Yes, that’s me. Pleased to meet you, Hasuma-sensei.” He offered a polite bow. ‘Stay courteous’, he reminded himself. ‘Don’t make trouble.’
“Good, but…” Her eyes narrowed. “Button your shirt.”
“Huh?” Oh right, he’d left the top button undone. “Forgive me. The collar is just a bit tight on me. This is a borrow shirt, so it not the right size.”
“I see. Once you receive your proper uniform, I expect you to wear it correctly.” With that settled, she guided him to his classroom.
The walk was short, and Ryuji made sure to note the route. The teacher asked him to wait outside the door for a moment. ‘This school is already giving me a headache,’ he thought.
It reminded him of a sorcerer’s city or the Militia headquarters, where large numbers of magic users gathered. Thanks to his heightened senses, he could see and feel the ambient energy around people. When concentrated like this, it overwhelmed him, pressing in until he suffered from sensory overload. These students weren’t actively emitting magic, but they still radiated something similar. It would take time for his senses to adjust.
Though he could always turn it off for a while. But shutting down his Third Eye came with its own risks. Still, he will turn it off just for a short time.
“Students, we have a new student joining our class. You may come in now.”
That was his cue. Ryuji opened the door, stepped into the classroom and immediately tripped over his own feet, face-planting onto the floor with a muffled “Geh!” He’d managed to embarrass himself in front of the entire class. ‘Good job, me…’ That was the result of turning off his Third Eye, it was too tied to his sense of balance.
A wave of snickers and whispers rippled through the room. Before it could grow, Hasuma-sensei’s stern voice cut through.
“Silence. Miyatake-kun, on your feet.”
Pushing himself up, Ryuji kept his expression neutral, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. He stood, brushed off his pants, and gave a short, composed bow to the class.
“I’m Miyatake Ryuji. You can call me Ryuji if you’d like. Nice to meet you all.”
“Your seat is beside Akiyama.” She pointed to the desk next to Rinko, near the window. Coincidence? He wondered, though, perhaps she simply thought he’d feel more at ease sitting next to someone he already knew. Whatever the reason, he complied and made his way to the desk.
Once Ryuji took his seat, Hasuma-sensei began the lesson. It was mathematics, and she instructed the class to open their textbooks. Ryuji froze, he had nothing. No textbook, no notebook, not even a pen. He glanced at Rinko, who had already laid out her materials.
Leaning slightly toward her, he whispered, “Hey, do you mind sharing your textbook with me?”
“Sure, Ryuji-kun,” Rinko agreed, and Ryuji carefully shifted his desk closer to hers. The movement drew reactions from the class. A ripple of whispers and stares, many of them sharp with what felt like jealousy or irritation.
‘Don’t tell me she’s some kind of celebrity here as well. First Shiranui and now her.’ Ryuji thought, keeping his expression neutral as he settled beside her.
Hasuma-sensei cleared her throat pointedly. “Eyes forward, everyone. We’re on page forty-two.” The class reluctantly returned their attention to the front, though Ryuji could still feel the weight of their gazes lingering on the back of his neck.
Ryuji tried to focus on the lesson, only to realize he’d already learned this material from his father’s tutoring. Still, he figured he should at least pay attention, maybe he’d pick up something new.
…
A few minutes later, he was bored. He knew this. There was no point in straining to concentrate. Even so, he couldn’t afford to look disinterested. Instead, he kept his eyes on the board and let his mind drift, carefully maintaining the appearance of a student who was listening.
As his mind wander, he started making scenarios in his head. Ten orcs in a warehouse, armed with AK‑47s, one hostage. Two watching each entrance, three on the catwalks above, the rest on the ground floor with the boss guarding the hostage. How to approach?
“Aye, there are many ways to approach a battle, my stupid student. Direct assault, slow picking one by one, each has its merits and flaws. What matters is how you adapt to the changing flow of your opponent.” The voice of his old mentor echoed in his mind, a familiar mantra that surfaced whenever he started planning a fight.
A direct assault might cause initial shock, but depending on their training, they could recover quickly and return fire. You’d likely be shredded by concentrated fire unless you had the speed to evade or a way to deflect bullets. And even then, the hostage complicated everything.
If the captors were idiots, or the type to follow through on threats without hesitation, they might just shoot the hostage outright, no matter their value. Smarter ones would bargain, maybe even demand surrender. Of course, that all depended on whether you cared about the hostage at all.
If you didn’t, then it was simple: go in guns blazing, or swords swinging.
But if you did care… then you were already in a terrible position. Every second counted, and the pressure twisted your choices into knots.
“Always value yourself, you idiotic student of mine. Don’t try to be a martyr in every situation. Your life is worth more than the hostage’s, because if you die here, how are you going to save anyone later?”
Never surrender. You’d just become another hostage, or worse, if you had information, they’d torture it out of you. A sniper could take a shot from outside the effective range, but missing was always a possibility…
In short, the hostage rescue had already succeeded in his mental simulation. He could keep running the scenario, but it only grew more convoluted. The stealth approach was next: pick off the guards quietly. But if they had established radio check-ins, he’d be compromised the moment one went silent. Maybe the best entry point was from above, through the windows—
“Miyatake.”
The voice cut through his thoughts. Hasuma-sensei.
“Stand up and write the answer on the board.”
He simply complied and made his way to the board, though he noted the scowl on her face. She must have noticed he hadn’t been paying attention, and this was her way of calling him out. But he already knew the solution. So, with calm, deliberate movements, he wrote it out.
Once he finished, he put the chalk down.
“That is correct.” Though she didn’t show it outwardly, he could sense her surprise. It must have been the first time she’d seen a student not pay attention yet still answer correctly. “Nevertheless, you need to pay attention in class, Miyatake-kun.” She scolded him anyway, which he knew he deserved.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to pay more attention,” he replied politely, then returned to his seat. Despite wanting to appear ordinary, he’d already failed. Honestly, he was starting to give up on the idea altogether.
“Ryuji-kun.”
The whisper came from beside him. Rinko was looking at him, her expression tight with disapproval. “You seemed distracted.” Her tone was low and carry an edge.
He met her gaze briefly, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. ‘She’s not wrong.’
“I’ll focus on the lesson, don’t get angry, alright.” he murmured back, turning his eyes forward again. This going to be a long and boring day, but it better than continuing to live in danger.
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The same pattern repeated in science class, his focus drifted, the material too familiar. But when history came around, Ryuji paid attention. The subject differed from what he’d learned in his own world, and his father had never bothered with it, prioritizing math and science instead.
Though some part of the history is interesting, notably the Taiwan crisis. There isn’t much added here, likely considered unimportant, or perhaps intentionally downplayed. Events involving other nations like the United States and Japan, especially their political interference in other nations, are glossed over. It’s the same way governments soften their own historical atrocities, such as those committed during World War II. China on the other hand are seen as aggressors in this conflict, though he should focus on it another day.
Once class was over, it was time for recess. “Ryuji-kun, come have lunch with us,” Rinko said, inviting him to join. He obliged, and as they walked through the halls together, she led him to the cafeteria.
They sat where Tatsurou and Yukikaze were already waiting. Everyone took out their bentos, though Rinko had brought an extra one.
“Huh, you made an extra?” Ryuji asked.
“It was supposed to be for Yukikaze, but since she has her own now, it would be a waste.”
“Are you going to throw it away? If you are, just give it to me, I’ll eat it. Don’t worry, I have a big stomach.”
“Ryuji-kun, we have PE class right after lunch. Doing strenuous activity on a full stomach will be uncomfortable, and it might make you puke.”
“Hmm, good point…” He considered it for a moment, then brightened slightly. “Well, I’ll eat it after PE then.”
Rinko sighed. If Ryuji wanted it that much, she’d just give it to him. Still, she turned to Yukikaze. “Did Shiranui make that bento for you?”
“No,” Yukikaze replied between bites. “Ryuji made it for me.”
Rinko blinked, surprised. “You know how to cook?”
“When you live alone with barely any money, you learn to stretch what you have. After too many meals of instant noodles or plain rice with eggs, you start craving something else. So, I taught myself how to cook, just to add a little variety,” Ryuji explained with a casual shrug.
He then picked up a croquette and held it gently near Rinko’s lips. “Want to try it?”
Rinko’s eyes dropped to the croquette held just before her lips. For a moment, she didn’t move her posture remained perfectly still, but a flicker of surprise passed through her usually composed expression. The gesture was forward, almost intimate, and entirely unexpected.
Then, with deliberate grace, she leaned forward slightly and took a small, neat bite. She chewed slowly, her gaze not leaving his.
“It’s good,” she said after swallowing, her voice even. “Well-seasoned. The texture is light.”
Ryuji picked up a croquette and held it out toward Tatsurou. “Want one?”
Tatsurou leaned in for a bite, but as he chomped down, his teeth met only air. “Wah! senpai?”
“If you want one, ask Yukikaze,” Ryuji said, popping the croquette into his own mouth with a faint, amused smirk.
“W-why me?!” Yukikaze slammed her hands on the table, drawing glances from nearby students.
“Well, he’s your childhood friend, isn’t he? Sharing food is normal. Besides, you eat plenty last night, gotta work it off.” He knew mentioning a woman’s weight was generally unwise, but sometimes you had to push, especially with someone as stubborn as her.
Yukikaze’s face flushed deep red, and tiny sparks crackled at her fingertips. “Just you wait. Once PE class starts, you’re going to suffer.” Despite her anger at Ryuji’s teasing, she couldn’t deny it presented an opportunity.
So she picks up the croquette and bring it closer to Tatsurou. “Well you want to try it right? I will give you one bite that it.”
Tatsurou blushed and leaned in to take a bite.
‘Munch.’
“Mmm… it’s good!” Tatsurou chewed, the savoury flavour spreading across his tongue. When he swallowed, a rich umami warmth lingered.
“Heh.” Feeding Tatsurou felt… weird to Yukikaze. Fluttery, a little unsettling, she couldn’t quite explain it.
“Yo, guys!” Sakura’s voice cut through the moment as she and two other girls approached the table. “Looks like you’re all getting along with the new student. Mind if we join?”
“Of course,” Rinko replied smoothly, and Sakura and her friends settled in. Sakura took the seat next to Ryuji.
“So, Ryuji-kun,” Sakura began between bites, “I’m kinda surprised you’re attending regular classes instead of jumping straight into combat training. I figured you’d be older.” She eyed him with open curiosity. “You carry yourself like someone who’s seen more than a classroom.”
‘Do I look that old?’ Ryuji wondered. No one had ever mentioned it back in his world, but then again, he’d never attended school there, having worked full-time at a convenience store instead.
“Hello, I’m Koukawa Asuka and this Onisaki Kirara. So, you’re the outsider who got approved by Asagi and the head of Sector Three.” The brunette’s tone was light, teasing. “Must’ve been nervous on your first day, tripping like that when you walked in.” She watched him for a reaction, but Ryuji’s expression remained unchanged.
“Come on, Asuka-chan, don’t tease him,” Sakura chided gently.
Asuka… She’d been mentioned in the story yesterday. What relation did she have with the Igawas? A family member? No, her family was Koukawa. A relative of the clan, perhaps. He dismissed the thought and shifted his attention to the twin-haired girl beside her: blonde, with a pronounced bust. There was something different about her. She was emitting magic, and something else, something not entirely human. Especially those two protrusions hidden beneath her ribbons.
…
She’s definitely a demon. At least part-demon. Those things hiding behind the ribbons are horns. Did the others know? He doubted it; she seemed to be hiding them. Oh? And now she was looking straight at the mage.
“What are you staring at?” Her voice was icy. “Stop looking at me with those disgusting eyes, you pig.”
Wow, he’d already made someone hate him. Not that it surprised him, he can feel hostility from her toward him and Tatsurou the moment she’d sat down. Maybe she just dislikes guys in general.
“Kirara-chan, take it easy on Ryuji,” Sakura interjected smoothly, trying to defuse the tension. “He’s a nice guy. I’m sure he had a reason for looking.”
‘What reason does a guy have for staring at a girl?’ Ryuji wondered. Usually, it was because he found something interesting, which, in this case, he certainly did. The demon part not the boobs.
“Yeah, he’s a guy after all,” one of the other girls chimed in with a poorly timed chuckle. “Obviously he finds you interesting, especially in certain… areas.”
‘What are you doing?!’ Ryuji thought, almost groaning inwardly. ‘You’re just making this worse.’
Kirara’s eyes flashed, the temperature around their table seemed to drop. Literally, as in he can feel the icy cold and so as the others. But it didn’t affect for so long as Ryuji emits warmth to counteract the cold.
“I-I was just joking, Kirara-chan,” Asuka stammered, shrinking back. “Obviously, Ryuji wasn’t thinking that way.”
“She’s right,” Yukikaze cut in firmly, her voice carrying across the table. “This guy barely even reacts to a woman’s body.” She said it so matter-of-factly that even Tatsurou blinked in surprise.
The cold receded slowly, not because Kirara had calmed down, but because Ryuji was quietly radiating a steady, warmth. Not enough to be obvious, just enough to take the edge off the chill. He didn’t look at Kirara, didn’t acknowledge the shift in temperature. He simply continued eating, as if the whole exchange were background noise.
Kirara’s glare didn’t soften, but the frost in the air faded. She turned sharply away, her posture rigid. Sakura let out a breath she seemed to have been holding.
“Let’s… just enjoy our lunch, okay?” Sakura said, her voice gentle. “We’ve got PE soon. No need to start a fight.”
They ate in a slightly awkward silence for a moment before Sakura tried to lighten the mood again. “So, Ryuji, how are you finding the classes so far? You looked pretty bored earlier, not that I blame you. I zone out half the time myself.”
“It’s not just boredom,” Ryuji replied, though his tone suggested it was a big part of it. “I’ve already been through this material with my father.”
“Eh, your dad tutored you?” Sakura asked, tilting her head.
“Yeah. Until I turned fifteen. After that, he said he’d taught me everything he could at least when it comes to graduating from high school.”
“Wait a minute,” Asuka interjected, holding up a finger. “You said your dad stopped tutoring you at fifteen. But you’re eighteen now.” She leaned forward slightly, her eyes sharpening with curiosity. “We just started this math chapter. When did you learn it?”
“I don’t know… I can’t remember exactly.” Ryuji thought for a moment. “Around ten, I think?”
“Eh?” Everyone at the table stared at him, caught off guard.
“Heh. Well, my father always said I learned like a sponge. He’d reward me whenever I picked things up quickly.” Ryuji took a slow sip of water, his gaze distant. “When I was eleven, I wanted a bike, but my dad thought it was a waste of money. So I challenged him: give me the hardest math problem he could think of, and if I solved it before midnight, he’d buy me one.”
“He gave me college-level arithmetic problems,” Ryuji added with a casual shrug. “He didn’t think I could do it, figured I’d give up and drop the subject. But I’d already been through his old university textbooks when I was bored.”
The table fell silent for a beat.
“You make it sound so… normal,” Sakura said, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.
He chuckles. “Well, what can I say? When your dad is an eccentric genius scientist, ‘normal’ was never really on the table.”
They continue chatting until the bentos are empty. Sakura lets out a long yawn, stretching her arms. “Mmm… feeling so sleepy all of a sudden. The heater feels extra nice today, for some reason.” She tilts her head, a lazy smile on her face as her gaze settles on Ryuji. “Especially around you.”
Before he can reply, she leans over and rests her head lightly against his shoulder, eyes already drifting shut.
Ryuji goes still for a second, then lets out a quiet sigh. “Heater, huh?”
Tatsurou and Yukikaze exchange a glance.
While Rinko simply sips her tea, her expression unreadable. “It’s Ryuji’s magic. His flame feels… really nice. Like a warm kotatsu.”
Onisaki stays quiet, though she lets out a small yawn every now and then. It wasn’t that ice users were weak to his flame. His fire wasn’t actual fire after all.
Asuka grins. “Is the great outsider also a space heater?”
“Apparently,” Ryuji muttered, but he didn’t move away, letting Sakura doze against him until the lunch bell rang.
The sharp, clear sound cut through the cafeteria’s murmur. Sakura stirred, lifting her head with a sleepy blink as the others began gathering their things.
They filed out of the cafeteria and headed for the locker rooms. Ryuji fell into step beside the others, the last of his soothing warmth fading into the cool of the hallway. It was time to change into gym clothes, PE was next.