During the break.
Hayato's gaze lingered on the wooden sword resting beside his desk.Wrapped in a strip of white cloth, it still gave away its true form at a glance.
A guitar for Guitar Club.A basketball for Basketball Club.A wooden sword for Kendo Club.Perfectly reasonable. Nothing worth gossiping about.
And yet—
"Eh? No way, he actually joined the Kendo Club?""You're kidding! Miyajima-senpai personally invited him, and he refused?""Argh, I wanted to join too, but they told me the slots were full. Isn't that straight-up bullying the honest types?!"
Whispers filled the air like an infection spreading through the classroom.
"Uu… uu… just how much spellwork did Mr. Hayashi use on Sakura-senpai? My goddess, my Sakura-senpai… why didn't you take me away instead!""Could he be the legendary sword prodigy?""Impossible. Absolutely impossible!""He just looks… so ordinary…"
Hayato—or "Mr. Hayashi Murae," as his classmates saw him—was never one to stand in the spotlight.An orphan swallowed by shadows, he had always hovered on the edges of the group, a presence neither here nor there.
During group assignments, he was the kind to be paired up with other leftovers.
And now, that kind of boy had caught the eye of Miyajima Sakura—the flower so high above the rest.Could it be… he had some kind of dirt on her?
The very thought made everyone shudder with disgust.Ugly thoughts breeding uglier feelings.
And yet, when they looked at Mr. Hayashi's figure by the window, half-hidden behind long, lifeless bangs, his gloomy aura clinging like a second skin—Yes. It did seem like the kind of thing he could do.
They didn't know the old Hayashi Murae.They barely knew the current Hayato.And yet they still threw around words like "indeed," as if they were certain.
Hayato himself didn't react to their muttering.Or maybe he heard them, but simply didn't care.
Eyes on his book, he let his mind drift back to yesterday.The faint curve tugging at the corner of his lips—half amusement, half wicked glee—only fanned the flames of suspicion further.
Yesterday, when he had gone to Shibuya with Miyajima Sakura—
So white. So big… heh.
Her clear, innocent eyes.Her perfect proportions.The graceful curve of her body as she leaned forward.Every detail had stolen Hayato's breath, pulling at his very soul.
Someday, he thought, he would bring that vision home, lay it upon his bed, and cherish it with both hands.
Wait for me… alpaca public…
"Damn you, Hayashi~~"
A whiny voice broke into his thoughts.Anshi Zhengzhi had appeared, lips thrust out in a dramatic pout, chanting like a curse:
"Damn you, damn you, so unfair!"
Hayato glanced up. "…Unfair how?"
"How do you even get a girl into bed?" Anshi shot the question like an arrow.
Hayato's reply was quicker."Check the telephone poles. There might still be a 'Seeking child for reward money' ad left hanging."
"…I tried." Anshi groaned. "They're all fake. Always some uncle picking up, asking if I want a bubble bath membership. No thanks. If the recruiter's an uncle, you just know the quality's bottom tier."
…True.Hayato had to admit, that much was painfully true.
"But you actually called, huh?" He looked at Anshi with eyes full of scorn.
The boy clasped his hands together, raising them high like a devotee before a god."Aibo! No—Great God Hayashi! Please, teach me the way of capturing beautiful women!!"
Anshi had once thought Hayato was just like himself: a boy who was decently good-looking but unrecognized.But in the past few days, this kid had somehow changed.Not only did he seem more handsome, but girls kept coming his way.Even Miyajima Sakura herself! (Miyajima Sakura!—he emphasized with trembling lips.)
Surely, Hayato had discovered some cheat and was hiding it.
Hayato closed his book with a sigh.
"Fine. I'll tell you the secret to picking up girls. Just two words."
"Please instruct me, Master!" Anshi said solemnly, bowing his head. "Is it 'gentleness'? But girls nowadays… they don't even like gentle boys anymore."
"Being a walking air conditioner isn't going to get you anywhere," Hayato replied with a knowing smile.
"Then… is it 'wealth'? But Master, I'm just a high schooler. I can't earn real money. Am I supposed to pray for my father to become a dragon, a man who rivals nations?"
"Superficial." Hayato waved the thought away. "That only attracts gold diggers. You'll never know true love like that."
"Your disciple cannot comprehend…"
Hayato raised two fingers."'Handsome guy.'"
In that moment, the clouds parted for Anshi. The sun shone, the heavens opened, and he understood.And yet—
"But Master, am I not already handsome?"
Hayato looked him over, a subtle smirk curling on his lips."…Heh."
"Oi! You're mocking me, aren't you! That's definitely mockery!"
"No, no. I'm admiring your courage. That confidence of yours is something to behold."
"Hmph… then could the problem lie in my appearance?" Anshi muttered, stroking his chin as though the answer must surely lie there—since it couldn't possibly be his face.
Of course, Hayato had no secret technique for picking up girls.'Handsome guy' was nothing more than a throwaway line.
And really—what good was being handsome?How many of them hadn't been told they were handsome since childhood, only to end up working themselves half to death just to survive?
Looks alone couldn't put food on the table.
Hayato reopened his book, fingers brushing the pages, when something clicked in his mind.He reached into his bag and pulled out his homework notebook.
With a swish, Hayato tore the paper down.
"…What are you doing?" Anshi Masaki asked in confusion.
"This is just paper. Easy to tear, right?" Hayato casually ripped a small corner off his workbook again.
"Nonsense," Masaki frowned.
"Then let's make a bet. I'm saying… you actually can't tear this thing." Hayato's lips curved into a mysterious smile.
"Oi!" Masaki was annoyed. "Hayato, I admit you're a little more handsome than me, but saying I can't tear a piece of paper? You're underestimating these biceps!"
"Do you dare to bet or not?"
"If you insist on giving me money, why wouldn't I take it?!"
"Five hundred yen. If you win, I'll pay you a thousand," Hayato said.
"Do you even have a thousand?" Masaki muttered, but still obediently slapped a five-hundred-yen coin on the desk.
Hayato pulled out a pristine A4 sheet from his drawer and handed it over.
"Here."
"Hmph! If I can't tear this, I'm not a man!"
Masaki pinched the edge, confident, pulling with ease—
"…Huh?"
The sheet didn't even flinch.
Masaki's face stiffened. Something was wrong.
Wait a second… could this actually… be impossible!?
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
patreon.com/Kazenova223
If you guys wanna check it out.