The "Shadow Committee" might have been a heavy burden, but in the Kobashigawa household, the only authority that mattered was Mom.
"Yuu! I forgot the eggs and milk for tomorrow's breakfast! Run down to the corner store, would you?"
I groaned, rolling off my bed. I looked at the clock—it was nearly 9:00 PM. After the triple-threat standoff on my front porch earlier, the last thing I wanted to do was step back into the night.
"And take those glasses off if they're bothering you!" she yelled from the kitchen. "You're going to trip in the dark!"
I sighed, pulling the "gloomy" frames off my face. Without them, my posture naturally straightened. My eyes sharpened. Without the weights of my "normal" persona, the air around me felt colder, steadier. I threw on a black hoodie and headed out, looking less like a background character and more like the ghost of the South District.
The Neon Incident
The air was humid, smelling of an approaching storm. I finished the errand quickly, the plastic bag of groceries crinkling in my hand. As I took a shortcut through the commercial district, a muffled, sharp laugh echoed from a dark alleyway behind a closed karaoke bar.
"Come on, sweetheart. Don't be like that. You were so loud on your 'Live Stream' earlier, why so quiet now?"
I stopped. My instincts, the ones I had tried to bury, flared to life. I peered around the corner.
Three men—older, probably local low-lifes—had a girl pinned against a graffiti-covered wall. She was wearing a flashy, oversized designer jacket and a short skirt, her dyed blonde hair messy. It was her. The "Influencer" from the first day—the fifth Calamity who had been verbally abusing the girls in the hallway.
Usually, she looked like she owned the world. Now, her phone was shattered on the ground, and her eyes were wide with a fear she couldn't talk her way out of.
"Hey," I said, my voice low and gravelly.
The three men spun around. The girl looked up, her breath hitching. Our eyes met. Because I wasn't wearing my glasses and my hood was down, the "Normal Yuu" she had seen in the hallway didn't exist. To her, I was just a dangerous-looking stranger with a gaze that promised violence.
"Who the hell are you, kid?" the leader sneered, reaching into his waistband. "Beat it before you get hurt."
I didn't move. I set the grocery bag down gently. "I'm the guy who's giving you three seconds to run. One."
"You little—!"
One of them lunged, swinging a heavy chain. In the old days, I would have broken his arm. Tonight, I just wanted to go home. I stepped inside his reach, my movement a blur. I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the brick wall—just hard enough to see stars.
The other two hesitated. They saw the way I stood. They saw the lack of hesitation in my eyes.
"Two," I counted, my voice devoid of emotion.
"He's a pro... let's get out of here!" the leader hissed. They grabbed their dazed friend and scrambled into the darkness of the main street.
--The Mask is Blown--
Silence returned to the alley, save for the hum of a flickering neon sign. I turned to the girl. She was shaking, her hands clutching her elbows.
"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching out a hand to help her up.
She flinched, then looked at me. Really looked at me. The recognition hit her like a physical blow. She looked at my face, then at the specific way I stood, then back at my eyes.
"You..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "The guy from the hallway. The one with the... the stupid glasses."
I froze. I'd forgotten I wasn't wearing them. I'd forgotten to slouch. I was standing there in my full "Boss" aura, surrounded by the aftermath of a fight I'd finished in seconds.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, trying to lower my voice back into a timid tone, but it was too late. I was still holding the "Boss" energy.
"Don't lie to me!" she snapped, her fear turning into a strange, frantic fascination. She stood up, brushing off her skirt, her "Queen Bee" persona trying to stabilize itself. "I saw that. No 'normal' student moves like that. You're... you're like a monster."
She stepped closer, her eyes scanning my face. "Your name is Kobashigawa Yuu. The President was talking to you... Wait. Does she know? Does she know you're some kind of underground legend?"
I picked up my groceries, my expression going stone-cold. "Listen, Hoshino-san," I said, using the name from the file. "You saw nothing. You're going to go home, you're going to forget this, and you're going to keep your mouth shut."
Instead of being intimidated, the girl—the master of social hierarchies—let out a shaky, hysterical laugh. "Forget it? Are you kidding? I just found the biggest 'content' in the whole school. A hidden king pretending to be a peasant."
She walked right up to me, poking my chest with a manicured nail. "I'm Hoshino Mami. And I think I just found my new 'Exclusive.' You're going to protect me, Yuu-kun. Because if you don't... I'll make sure every single one of my followers knows exactly who's hiding behind those glasses."
I sighed, looking up at the dark sky. One, two, three, five...
"I really should have just stayed in bed," I muttered.
The next morning, I arrived at the school gates with a headache that felt like a sledgehammer. I had my glasses back on and my shoulders slumped, but the weight of the "Seven Calamities" felt like a physical mountain on my back.
I hadn't even reached the shoe lockers when the air pressure in the hallway changed.
"There he is! My favorite 'Private Security'!"
A loud, melodic voice cut through the morning chatter. The students parted like the Red Sea as Hoshino Mami strutted toward me. She looked radiant, her blonde hair perfectly curled, holding a high-end smartphone like a scepter. She wasn't hiding behind walls today; she was center stage.
Before I could react, she draped her arm over my shoulder, the scent of expensive perfume hitting me like a flashbang.
"Good morning, Yuu-kun," she purred, loud enough for half the hallway to hear. "I hope you got enough sleep. We have a lot to talk about regarding our 'exclusive' partnership."
The Triple Threat
The hallway went dead silent. Then, I heard it.
Snap.
I turned my head slowly. Sayuri was standing five feet away, clutching her book bag so hard the leather was groaning. Her eyes were shadowed, her bangs hiding everything but a terrifying, twitching smile.
"Yuu-kun..." she whispered, her voice sounding like dry leaves on a grave. "Who is this... loud person? And why is she touching your shoulder with her dirty hands?"
"Oh? This must be the 'Seatmate' I heard about," Mami smirked, not pulling away. In fact, she tightened her grip on my arm, leaning her head against my shoulder. "I'm Mami. I'm Yuu-kun's new... manager. We had a very intense encounter in an alleyway last night. He was so... forceful. I simply couldn't resist."
"Intense? Forceful?" Rin's voice joined the fray as she appeared from the science wing, her goggles around her neck and a new digital thermometer in her hand. "Wait! Specimen No. 1 had an encounter without me? I need to check his cortisol levels immediately! Mami-san, move aside. You're contaminating the data with your cheap perfume!"
"Cheap?!" Mami gasped, offended. "This is limited edition!"
"It's a variable I didn't account for!" Rin snapped, trying to shove her way between me and Mami.
I stood there, the legendary Boss of the South District, being pulled in three different directions. Sayuri was radiating a dark, murderous aura; Rin was trying to stick a thermometer in my ear; and Mami was using me as a prop for her next social media "story."
"Everyone... please," I groaned, my glasses slipping down my nose. "I just want to go to homeroom."
"No!" the three of them shouted in unison.
--The President's Shadow--
"Is this a circus, or a school?"
The cold, sharp voice of Masuyo echoed through the hall. The crowd of students scattered instantly, leaving the four of us standing in a chaotic huddle. The President walked up to us, her eyes landing on Mami's arm around my shoulder, then on Rin's thermometer, and finally on Sayuri's twitching hand.
She looked at me, and for a second, I saw a flicker of genuine pity in her eyes. But it was gone in a flash.
"Hoshino-san, Ichinose-san, Hase-san," Masuyo said, her voice like ice. "Class starts in five minutes. If I see this 'gathering' again, all four of you will be spending your afternoon cleaning the pool filters."
The girls stiffened. Even Mami knew better than to pick a fight with the President's influence.
"Fine, fine," Mami huffed, finally letting go of my arm. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, "See you at lunch, 'Hero.' Don't forget who's holding your secret."
As they dispersed, Masuyo stepped closer to me. She adjusted her armband and looked at the three girls walking away.
"You're certainly 'guiding' them, Kobashigawa," she muttered under her breath. "Into a war zone. At this rate, the school will be leveled before the end of the week."
"I'm doing my best," I hissed back, fixing my glasses.
"Well, do better," she replied, her eyes sharpening. "Because while you're busy being a harem protagonist, the Sixth Calamity—the Challenger—just finished his suspension. He's looking for the guy who 'tamed' the delinquent queen Amaya. Expect a visit during lunch."
I leaned my head against a locker. A yandere, a mad scientist, an influencer, and now a brawler.
"I really should have just gone to juvie," I whispered to myself.
--Back in the classroom--
I walked back into the classroom, and the atmosphere was like a physical wall. The usual morning chatter died instantly. Every head turned. Some students looked at me with pure confusion, others with newfound envy, and a few looked like they were watching a man walk to his own execution.
To them, I was the "Gloomy NPC" who had somehow been claimed by the school's top influencer, the resident mad scientist, and the terrifyingly quiet girl in the back row—all in the span of twenty-four hours.
I ignored the stares and slumped into my seat. Beside me, Sayuri was a statue. Her face was shadowed, and a dark, heavy aura seemed to radiate from her desk. She wasn't looking at me; she was staring intensely at a hole she had bored into her notebook with her pen.
"Hey," I said, leaning in slightly. "You okay? You look like you're planning a coup."
Sayuri didn't look up. Her voice was small, but it had a sharp, icy edge to it. "I'm fine, Yuu-kun. I'm just thinking about how 'forceful' you were in that alleyway last night. And how 'intense' it was. And how you're apparently a 'set' with Hoshino-san now."
"Sayuri-chan," I whispered, dropping my voice into that smooth, flirtatious register I knew she couldn't handle. I reached out and gently moved a lock of her hair behind her ear. "You aren't actually listening to Mami, are you? She's an influencer—she exaggerates everything for the 'content.' Unlike her, you're the only one I actually enjoy talking to."
Sayuri's pen stopped moving. A tiny, frustrated huff escaped her lips, and a pink hue finally began to fight through the gloom on her cheeks. She looked at me, her eyes narrowed in a mix of annoyance and longing.
"Liar," she pouted, her voice turning a bit more "cute" despite her irritation. "You're just saying that. You probably have a 'smooth line' for every girl you meet. You probably whispered the same thing to the President and that... that teal-haired freak."
I didn't flinch. I leaned in even closer, so close I could see my own reflection in her glasses. I gave her a look of absolute, focused sincerity—the kind of look a Boss uses when he's making a promise.
"I don't waste my breath on just anyone, Sayuri," I said, my voice low and steady. "I'm only doing this for you. Because you're the only one who saw me first. Remember?"
Sayuri's face went full "tomato" mode. She looked away instantly, her shoulders shaking as she tried to maintain her "annoyed" facade. "You... you're so unfair, Yuu-kun. You use words like weapons."
She took a shaky breath, her expression suddenly turning serious. She leaned toward me, her voice dropping to a fearful whisper.
"But Yuu-kun... you shouldn't be flirting right now. There's someone... someone really scary looking for you. He was here earlier while you were with the President. He didn't say a word, but the air in the room... it felt like it was freezing."
I straightened up. "The Challenger?"
Sayuri nodded, her grip on her desk tightening. "He left a message. He said he's waiting for the 'New King' to show his face. He's... he's not like Amaya-san. He's a monster."
"Where?" I asked, my mind already shifting back into a tactical state.
"The old equipment shed," Sayuri said, her eyes wide with worry. "The one near the back of the gymnasium. Yuu-kun, please... don't go. Or let me come with you! I have my compass, I can—"
"No," I said, patting her hand to calm her down. I stood up and adjusted my glasses, the "gloomy" mask firmly back in place. "I'll just go and clear up the misunderstanding. I'm just a normal student, right? What could he possibly want with me?"
As I walked out of the room, I felt her worried gaze on my back. I headed toward the gym, the weight of the "Seven Calamities" file flashing through my mind.
The equipment shed... the perfect place for a fight nobody is supposed to see.
--In the Gymnasium--
The air behind the gymnasium was stagnant, smelling of rusted iron and damp earth. As I approached the old equipment shed, the silhouette of a figure leaning against the corrugated metal door came into view. From a distance, the stature was lean and imposing, draped in a oversized dark hoodie that obscured their features.
I took a breath, letting my shoulders slump into their usual "gloomy" posture. I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, preparing my best "misunderstood commoner" voice.
"Um, hello?" I called out with a gentle, hesitant wave. "I heard someone was looking for me? I'm Kobashigawa Yuu, from Class 1-A. If this is about a club recruitment, I'm actually—"
The figure pushed off the wall and stepped into the pale afternoon light. My heart skipped a beat. This wasn't the hulking, bruised brawler I had expected. It was a girl. Her hair was short, a sharp silver-blonde that caught the light, and her eyes were a piercing, stormy grey. She radiated a "heavy" aura—the kind of pressure that only comes from someone who has stood in the center of a hundred street fights.
Before I could process the "Challenger" being a girl, she moved.
It wasn't an attack. She blurred across the distance between us and collided with my chest, her arms wrapping around my waist in a crushing, desperate hug.
"Boss..." she whispered, her voice muffled against my hoodie. "I found you. I actually found you."
I froze, the "Normal Yuu" persona shattered instantly. That voice. That specific way she held her breath. I looked down at the top of her head, and the memories of the South District came flooding back. This wasn't just some challenger. This was Kira, the girl who had been my shadow throughout middle school. She wasn't officially the vice-commander, but everyone knew: if the Boss wasn't there, you answered to her.
A genuine, warm smile broke through my mask. I reached down and patted her head, the same way I used to when we were kids.
"Kira? Is that really you?" I laughed, sounding like the old Yuu for a brief second. "Man, you've grown. I almost didn't recognize you without the combat boots. It's good to see an old friend. How have you been?"
The warmth in the air vanished instantly.
Kira stiffened. She didn't look up with a smile. Instead, she pushed off me with such force I had to take a step back to keep my balance. Her stormy eyes were no longer filled with relief—they were burning with a cold, jagged disappointment.
"Old friend?" she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "You're greeting me like we're at a middle school reunion? Look at you, Yuu. Look at those pathetic glasses. Look at the way you're standing."
Before I could respond, her leg snapped out in a lightning-fast roundhouse kick. I didn't think; my body remembered. I ducked, the wind from her strike whistling over my head.
"Kira, stop! What are you doing?" I shouted, trying to maintain my balance.
"I'm looking for the Demon King!" she screamed, launching a flurry of palm strikes that I had to parry with my forearms. Clang. Clang. The sound of her hits felt like being struck by a lead pipe. "I didn't come here for some 'normal student' who flirts with influencers and gets babied by a student council! You were the strongest! You were the one who told me that the only way to be free was to be the top!"
She lunged again, her fist stopping a mere inch from my glasses. I didn't flinch, but I could feel the killing intent radiating off her.
"You're not the Yuu I know," she hissed, her eyes tearing up. "That Yuu wouldn't hide. That Yuu wouldn't bow to some 'President.' If you won't be the Boss... then you're just a obstacle in my way. I'll break this fake version of you myself."
I looked into her eyes and realized the President was right. Kira wasn't just a friend from the past; she was the Sixth Calamity. And to her, my attempt at a "peaceful life" was the ultimate betrayal.
The rhythmic thwack of Kira's strikes against my forearms was the only sound in the secluded alley. Every time her fist connected, I felt the vibration all the way to my teeth. She was faster than she used to be—sharper, fueled by a cocktail of betrayal and longing.
I can't strike back, I thought, my mind racing as fast as my reflexes. If I hit her, the "Normal Yuu" dies forever. But if I don't stop her, she'll tear the gym shed down with me inside it.
I stayed on the defensive, swaying and parrying. I was so focused on the storm of silver hair and flying kicks in front of me that I didn't notice a slight glint of glass from the second-story window of the equipment shed. A phone lens was leveled at us, silently capturing every frame of the "Demon King" defending against the "Challenger."
--The Accidental Collision--
Kira lunged forward with a desperate, heavy-handed straight punch. It was a move born of emotion, not technique—telegraphing a mile away.
There.
I saw the opening. I reached out, my fingers locking around her wrist to redirect her momentum. But as I pulled her arm to the side to neutralize the force, my heel caught on a discarded rusted dumbbell hidden in the dirt.
My balance vanished.
"Whoa—!"
Because I was still holding her wrist, I didn't just fall; I pulled her down with me. We collided in a tangle of limbs and hoodies. I braced for the impact of the ground, but instead, I felt something soft, warm, and entirely unexpected.
Time stopped.
My lips were pressed firmly against Kira's. Her eyes, wide and shimmering with shock, were inches from mine. The heavy, violent aura that usually surrounded her evaporated in a heartbeat, replaced by a stunned, deafening silence.
--The Witness--
CLANG!
The sound of metal hitting concrete shattered the moment. I jerked my head back, scrambling away from Kira as if I'd been electrocuted.
Standing ten feet away was Sayuri. She was holding a small tray of cookies she must have made for me, but the tray was now upside down on the pavement. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated confusion that quickly curdled into something much darker.
"Yuu-kun...?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I... I thought you were in trouble. I came to help..."
"Sayuri, wait! It's not what it looks like!" I scrambled to my feet, my glasses hanging off one ear.
But it was too late. Sayuri's eyes welled with tears, and she turned, bolting back toward the main building with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a "timid" girl.
"Sayuri! Stop!" I shouted. I looked back at Kira. She was still sitting in the dirt, her fingers pressed against her lips. She wasn't angry anymore. Her face was a shade of red that put Sayuri's blush to shame, and her usual "tough" expression had melted into something soft, dazed, and... terrifyingly happy.
"I... I have to go," I stammered, adjusting my glasses with shaking hands. "Kira, I'm sorry. I really am. We'll talk later!"
I didn't wait for a response. I ran after Sayuri, my mind a chaotic mess of "Calamities" and "Disasters."
--The Aftermath at the Shed--
Kira remained on the ground, the dust settling around her. She didn't look like a challenger anymore. She looked like a girl who had just found the treasure she had been hunting for years.
"He... he didn't fight back," she whispered to herself, a shy, tomboyish smile spreading across her face. "He just... he held me."
She hugged herself, the silver-blonde hair shielding her eyes. "Fine. If he wants to be 'normal'... I guess I can be a 'normal' girl for him. As long as he keeps doing that."
Above her, the mysterious figure in the window slowly retracted the phone, the screen showing a perfectly clear image of the kiss.
--Corridor--
I sprinted through the hallway, the sound of my own frantic breathing echoing off the lockers. I spotted her turning the corner toward the rooftop stairs—the most secluded spot in the school.
"Sayuri! Wait!" I yelled, reaching out to grab her shoulder as I finally caught up.
She spun around so fast I nearly tripped. But it wasn't the crying, timid girl I expected. Sayuri's face was deathly pale, her eyes wide and devoid of their usual warmth. In her right hand, she held her drafting compass, the sharpened steel tip glinting dangerously as she leveled it inches from my throat.
"Don't," she whispered. The "Yandere" aura radiating from her was so thick I could almost taste the ozone. "Don't touch me with the same hands you used to hold her."
I froze. I've faced down gangs with knives and bats, but the cold, focused madness in Sayuri's eyes was far more terrifying. She stepped into my space, forcing me back against the wall. The compass point didn't waver.
"We aren't labeled, are we, Yuu-kun?" she asked, her voice tilting into a high, unstable pitch. "We aren't 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend.' I have no right to be mad... right?"
"Sayuri, listen, it was an accident—I tripped—"
"I don't care about accidents!" she shrieked, then immediately dropped back into a low, terrifying murmur. "I gave you everything. I watched you. I protected you. And then I see you... with that silver-haired thief."
She leaned in, her breath cold against my ear. "Here is my warning, Yuu-kun. From now on, I'm not just watching. I will do things... intense things. I don't care if it costs the lives of the girls around you. If they touch you, I'll erase them. And if you reject me? If you try to run? I'll make sure neither of us ever has to leave this school again. We'll be together forever... in the ground if we have to be."
I felt the weight of her words. Between Masuyo's blackmail, Mami's social media leverage, and Kira knowing my true past, my "normal life" was a shattered mirror. I couldn't fight her—not like this.
"Sayuri," I said, my voice soft, trying a different approach. I didn't reach for the compass; I reached for her hand, gently covering her fingers with mine. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean for any of that to happen. What can I do to make you believe me?"
Sayuri's eyes flickered. She wasn't satisfied—not yet. The madness was still there, but it was being channeled into a demand.
"Once a week," she stated, the compass tip finally lowering a fraction. "Every Saturday, you come to my house. You stay with me. Just us. No mad scientists, no influencers, no 'old friends.' You belong to me for those twenty-four hours."
The thought of being trapped in a house with a girl who carried a sharpened compass as a hobby was terrifying, but looking at her face, I knew there was no "No" in this conversation.
"Fine," I breathed, my heart heavy. "Saturdays. I'll be there."
A tiny, beautiful, and utterly haunting smile spread across her lips. She pulled the compass back, tucking it into her pocket as if she hadn't just been threatening a murder-suicide.
"I'll prepare your favorite meal, Yuu-kun," she said, her voice returning to its sweet, angelic tone. "I can't wait for us to be alone."
She turned and walked away, humming a soft tune. I leaned against the wall, sliding down until I hit the floor.
I'm not a Boss anymore, I thought, looking at my trembling hands. I'm a hostage.