"What's that about?"
Matsubara Ayumu jogged out from the school gate, spotting the striking Yotsumoto Ryoka and the equally noticeable Kobayashi Satoru. "Yo, Kobayashi, you're already out? Thought you were stuck in the bathroom or something."
"Waiting?" Satoru raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't we agree to walk home together?"
"…" Did we?
"It's on the way anyway, so let's go together," Ryoka chimed in, her voice calm but firm. "Plus, after what happened… there might be retaliation. Sticking together means I can protect you both better."
"Ryoka's super strong!" Ayumu grinned, giving her a thumbs-up.
Satoru: …
How to put it?
It wasn't that he doubted Ryoka's combat prowess—girl could probably bench press a delinquent—but Ayumu's reflex to lean on her like a crutch rubbed Satoru the wrong way.
Still, if it was on the way, walking together wasn't a bad deal.
"Kobayashi, heard you got into a fight with Anji today?" Ayumu asked. He'd been grabbing a drink during the scuffle, only catching the gossip later.
"Yeah." Satoru nodded.
"Why?" Ryoka's voice sharpened, her eyes narrowing.
Satoru's lanky frame screamed "easy target" to her. Having grown up protecting her frail childhood friend, she was hyper-alert to anyone getting picked on.
"No big deal, just messing around," Satoru said, brushing it off. No way was he spilling that Anji had been mouthing off about her in that way.
Telling her would bury Anji's social life in a shallow grave. The guy had made a small mistake, already corrected by Satoru's Personality Correction Punch—no need to torch his reputation further. Pure love warriors had mercy, after all.
Ryoka studied Satoru's face, noticing a faint red mark on his cheek—like he'd taken a slap.
"If someone's bullying you, tell me," she said, dead serious.
Satoru grinned. "What, you my big sister now, Ryoka-nee?"
Her cheeks flushed crimson. "N-No… just… watch yourself, okay?"
"Sure…" Satoru shrugged, noncommittal.
"Didn't expect your math skills to be so solid," Ayumu piped up. "That question in class? I swore it was '1.' Total trick question."
"Got lucky," Satoru said.
[That was totally Ai-chan's—]
The system tried to butt in, but Satoru's mental drift was faster, shutting her down like a kill switch.
"And during break, you were reading those kanji-heavy books!" Ayumu turned into a full-on hype man. "I can't make heads or tails of that stuff!"
That math question with the answer "0"? Ryoka vaguely recalled it. Both classes had the same math teacher, and that problem's trickiness had stuck with her—she'd fallen for it too. Still, it was within the textbook's scope. A careful student could nail it.
But kanji-heavy books…
Most high schoolers wouldn't touch those with a ten-foot pole! Too dense! Plus, kids these days leaned hard into katakana slang.
"You get all that?" Ryoka asked, her tone gentle, careful not to sound interrogative.
"No problem," Satoru said, not hiding it.
Kanji was in his blood, a skill etched into his very soul. He wasn't about to downplay it—in fact, his voice carried a hint of pride.
"That's impressive," Ryoka said, genuinely admiring. "I struggle with a lot of kanji readings."
"Japanese kanji's fine, but Kagoku's traditional kanji? That's the real beast."
Ayumu jumped in, animated. "I saw this show once—Kagoku folks say 'going to the bathroom' all polite, like 'taking a convenience.' But if someone says, 'Come when I'm taking my convenience,' they definitely don't mean 'visit me in the john'!"
A classic Kagoku language gag.
Satoru smirked, surprised to hear it in this world. More, give me more.
But Ayumu didn't deliver.
A dark, chilling voice cut through from behind.
"Well, well, we meet again!!"
The words slithered past their ears like a cold breeze.
Ayumu yelped, "Wah!" and leaped behind Ryoka in a flash.
Aihara Yamato.
The glasses-wearing creep Satoru had outsmarted last time was back, no trace of his fake charm. His face was pure venom, backed by the same blond-led delinquent crew.
And this time, their numbers were bigger.
Same setup, same street…
This damn street, always deserted for some reason.
Just two groups: Satoru's trio and Yamato's gang.
"Two groups" was generous—Satoru's side was hilariously outnumbered.
"Ayumu…" Ryoka stepped in front of her childhood friend, then turned to Satoru. "Kobayashi-kun, hide quick…"
But Satoru stepped forward, shielding her instead.
"You again?" His voice was calm, cooler than Ayumu's trembling and even Ryoka's tense stance. "Not scared I'll call the cops?"
Yamato stuck out his tongue, sneering. "Cops? That might've worked last time, but you're out of chances now…"
"Never too late to call," Satoru said, rolling his neck casually. "You can't exactly kill me. As long as I'm breathing, I can report you after the fact. The worse you hurt me, the longer your sentence."
"Oh, about that…" Yamato's grin turned shadowy. "I've thought it through. We'll grab Ryoka… snap some 'artistic photos.' If you dare call the cops, well… Ryoka's social life might just crumble. You cool with that?"
'Artistic photos'…
Even with the euphemism, Ryoka knew exactly what he meant—lewd, vile stuff. She snapped, "You shameless bastards!!"
"Heh, who's fault is it for crossing me—and us?" Yamato laughed. "Last time, we had a plan, but this guy ruined it…"
"Hold up," Satoru cut in, raising a hand. "Let's get one thing straight, Aihara-san."
"…What?"
"Even if I don't call the cops, you're not letting us go, are you?"
"Smart guy…" Yamato's grin widened.
"So it's like this," Satoru said, ticking off points like he was breaking down a math problem. "You don't let us go → take those photos → we don't call the cops → you use the photos to blackmail us → maybe take more photos. Right? Or, you don't let us go → take the photos → we call the cops → you can't use the photos to threaten us. Which one's the better deal here?"
Satoru's cold, rational breakdown nearly made Yamato explode. "You don't give a damn about Ryoka's reputation?!"
"After what you're planning, what reputation's left?" Satoru tilted his head. "Besides, with all your goons here, everyone gets a cut, right? Families coughing up millions in damages—none of you look like trust fund kids, so that'll sting. Ryoka and I? We'd take that cash and bounce. Money talks in this world—emigration's easy. But you lot? Locked up for a decade, families bankrupted paying for your screw-ups, parents crushed by their criminal kid. Then you get out, branded as ' creeps' for life. Tell me—who's the one facing social death here?"
…
…