"Wait, wait—" Anshi Seiji began to stare at the sheet of paper as if it were some mysterious relic.
Left side: plain white paper.Right side: plain white paper.Turn it over: still ordinary white paper.
And yet—no matter how he tugged, he simply could not tear it.
No, it wasn't just a question of strength. Even when he crumpled the thing, the sheet smoothed back out as if nothing had happened — not a single crease remained.
Anshi looked at Hayato in bafflement.
Hayato made a small, theatrical pleading gesture. "Please make flexible use of those biceps, Seiji-kun."
"—!"
Insult, wounded pride, indignation — all at once. Anshi drew a breath that could have contributed to global warming, planted his feet wide, and sank into a horse stance as if drawing power from the earth itself.
"Hoo!"
He grabbed one corner of the sheet with a single hand and pulled, a motion like a wide Hong Quan strike.
But—
"Wuwuwu—!" Anshi's face flushed a deep beet-red.
The paper remained immovable, steady as a mountain.
"—Damn it!!" he roared.
"What in the world is wrong with this paper!?" Anshi exclaimed, disbelief written across his features.
Hayato didn't bother answering. Instead, he flicked the five-hundred-yen coin with a casual finger.
"It's mine now. You lost the bet."
"L-lost… lost…" Anshi's tone was magnanimous — mostly because five hundred yen wasn't worth his dignity.
His sputtering, however, drew the class's attention. A little cluster who'd been whispering about Hayato drifted over.
"What's up, Anshi? Why're you hollering like a pig being led to slaughter?" someone joked.
Despite all their teasing, Anshi was good with people — at least "normal" like Matsubara Ayumu, not a ghost at the social fringes like Hayato. So they addressed him, conveniently ignoring Hayato.
"This paper's amazing," Anshi said, still shaking the sheet.
"It's just scrap paper. What's so special?" scoffed a boy named Yamamoto Sakito — a name that somehow made the air feel prickly. He stepped forward, sneer in place. "Let me see."
Anshi recoiled. "No— I paid five hundred yen just to touch it. If you want a look, you pay five hundred too." He spread his hand like a vendor.
Yamamoto laughed. "You want money to look at paper? Ridiculous."
"All right, then let's do it your way," Anshi shot back. "Bet with Hayato on tearing it. If you can't tear it, you give him five hundred. If you tear it, you take five hundred from both of us."
"Not fair," Hayato said flatly.
What a pig — how would he win only five hundred but risk losing a thousand? Had Yamamoto thrown away high school math?
Yamamoto grinned like a man with a scheme. "Then here's a better offer. Five hundred's petty. If we're playing, let's play big. Ten thousand! You don't all have to pay ten thousand — I'll front the big chunk. If we win, you split the pot seventy-thirty. I get seventy, you get thirty."
Someone tugged at his sleeve. "Dude, where you gonna get ten thousand from?"
"Crowdfunding," Yamamoto said, already counting coins. It was a sure-win in his head.
"—No, that's not good," Hayato repeated.
"Hey, Hayato—scared now?" Yamamoto goaded. "You dare bet with Anshi but not with us? Did you trick him?"
Anshi rolled his eyes. "I don't care, whatever. If Hayato wants to bet, fine. It's his call."
Hayato sighed, giving in with that bored air of his. "Fine. Let's do it. Everyone, watch carefully. Don't say later you weren't warned."
"You'll be the one regretting it," Yamamoto said and slapped a stack of coins on the table — ten thousand yen total clattering down like a challenge.
Anshi, not to be outdone, slammed down a five-thousand and five one-thousand bills as if daring the universe.
"Anshi, are you insane?" someone hissed.
"Who handled the paper, me or you? I know this thing better than anyone," Anshi grunted. He shot Hayato a grin. "When we win, Hayato, ten percent, okay?"
"…Mm," Hayato hummed noncommittally.
Hearing Anshi's confidence and Hayato's cool acceptance, Yamamoto felt the thrill of danger but pressed forward — no backing down now. He snatched the paper, gathered himself.
"Hoo—!"
"Push harder, Yamamoto!" someone cheered, half encouragement, half mockery.
Yamamoto's face tightened, his fingers trembling. He bellowed, "Hoo-yah!" and heaved.
The class fell into a hush; the scariest sound was the sudden silence of coin-counting teenagers.
"N-no way, my money—" they muttered, hands already hovering over wallets.
Yamamoto suddenly broke the silence with a manic grin. "Relax! I've got an ultimate move."
"You got a finishing move? Use it!" someone shouted.
"Behold!" Yamamoto declared, and dove to his desk drawer. He grabbed his water bottle, popped the lid, and prepared to douse the paper.
"Hey! That's cheating!" Anshi shouted.
"You never said I couldn't use water!" Yamamoto grinned triumphantly.
Anshi lunged to stop him, but Hayato held out a hand. "Let them."
Water touched the sheet and the paper immediately softened, wrinkling into a sodden mess.
"All right!" Yamamoto crowed, the others whooped. "As expected of Yamamoto! Resourceful! Comparable to Zhuge Liang!" They carried on as if the war had been won.
Yamamoto tore. He tore with all the bravado of a man who'd just outwitted fate.
The paper folded, bent, but did not split. Even soaked and fragile, it refused to tear.
Yamamoto's triumphant smile faltered into a blank stare. "What the—!?"
"My money! My money!" someone wailed.
"You damn—!" another cursed.
"Yamamoto! I'll curse your ancestors!!" someone screamed.
Chaos, shrieks, and accusations filled the room. Coins scattered. Friends argued. The impossible sheet lay whole on the table as if daring them to try again.
…And Hayato sat there, fingers steepled, the small, knowing smile never leaving his face.
--+--
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.