Chapter 20: The Timid Desk Neighbor
"Strawberry-patterned panties, huh… The Golden Sparkling Ojou-sama has the exact same taste as Aya Toujou from Ichigo 100%."
Takumi Hoshino hummed a little tune as he walked toward the classroom. That scene just now was practically ripped straight from the opening of that classic harem manga. Too bad—he'd seen so many panties lately that he didn't feel the same obsessive "I'll never forget this!" vibe the protagonist had.
The moment he stepped into the classroom, the previously noisy room fell dead silent.
Everyone turned to stare at him. All kinds of weird looks—mostly shock mixed with fear.
Takumi blinked, then quickly understood. Word about him beating Goda Taiga must have spread already.
Ignoring the stares, he headed straight to his seat and opened his bag—only to frown deeply.
His textbooks and notebook were gone.
"What the…?"
"Um… Hoshino-kun, a senior took your books. He told me to give you this…"
A voice as quiet as a mosquito buzzed beside him.
Takumi turned. It was his desk neighbor—one of the few people in school with even less presence than him.
Long hair that practically covered her face, huge round glasses, average grades, average athletic ability. Appearance… honestly, Takumi had never really paid attention, so he couldn't say. If she were cute he probably would've noticed even with his "3D girls don't do it for me" stance—after all, they'd been desk neighbors since first year, through the class shuffle into second year, and now here in third.
He vaguely remembered her first name was something like "Yuu"… or maybe "Aki"? No clue on the family name.
"Kid, if you don't want your books swimming in the toilet, come to the 'Cute' Billiards Room after school. You've been warned."
Takumi accepted the note without a word and slipped it into his pocket.
He knew showing off earlier would piss someone off. But third year was the most critical time—everyone was buried under mountains of practice problems. Unless they'd already completely given up on life, who had time to pull this kind of petty stunt?
"A-Are you… okay…?"
His timid desk neighbor asked in a frail voice. She wasn't actually stuttering; she was just perpetually weak-willed toward everyone.
Takumi shook his head. "It's fine. Probably just some senior messing with me. Still… going through class without books is gonna be a pain."
"You… can borrow mine…"
"Really? Thanks a lot."
"N-No problem…"
"Haha, relax a little, will you? We've been desk neighbors for two whole years. Loosen up!"
"Mm… okay."
Takumi shook his head at how tense she looked, then suddenly leaned close to her ear and whispered,
"Hey, wanna hear some of Aoki Haruto's dark history?"
"Dark… history?"
For the first time, the timid girl actually showed interest. Her speech didn't pause this time.
Takumi grinned.
"Y'know, the kind of past you never want to remember. So this guy—he's always hated Japanese class. Back in sixth grade, the teacher assigned an 800-character essay titled 'My Grandfather.' He grabbed a model essay book, found one called 'My Older Sister,' and just crossed out 'sister' and wrote 'grandfather' everywhere. Then the teacher made him read it in front of the whole class. I still remember it word for word."
He pinched his voice into an exaggerated falsetto:
"My grandfather is a pretty little girl~ She always wears floral dresses and ties her hair in little pigtails—so cute~!"
Pfft—!
The girl couldn't hold it in. She didn't dare laugh out loud, but her shoulders shook violently and her face turned bright red.
Right then the class bell rang.
Almost simultaneously, a short-haired middle-aged woman in a teacher's uniform strode in. Her eyebrows were noticeably longer than average, giving her a slightly severe look. She carried a teaching pointer and a folder.
Following right behind her was a familiar figure—the blonde ojou-sama, Ryūko, holding a thick stack of test papers.
"Ryūko-san, just leave the papers on the podium. And in the future, don't wander off after the warning bell—even if there's a reason. You're the class rep and the studies committee member. Set an example."
The teacher's tone was gentle but carried undeniable steel.
Ryūko nodded politely. "Yes, Sensei."
This woman was their homeroom teacher and math instructor—famous for her iron-fisted teaching style. She gave no one special treatment, not even the golden-haired princess. Someone (probably a real jerk) had nicknamed her "Extinction Master" behind her back, and the name stuck.
"Take your seat, Ryūko-san."
The blonde princess nodded and walked back to her place. As she passed Takumi's desk, she glanced over—and saw him leaning close to his neighbor, sharing a single math textbook. Whatever he'd said made the other girl's face beet-red.
"Hmph."
Ryūko let out a small, inexplicable huff and continued to her seat.
The class had 37 students. She was the only one with a desk entirely to herself—a silent statement of her special status.
After the group leaders distributed the test papers, Extinction Master finally began the lesson.
"Several of you did not perform well this time. You fell below the passing line. But don't lose heart. Remember—when God closes a door, He always opens a window."
The class chorused back obediently:
"Yes, Sensei!"
"Good."
Extinction Master pointed straight at the window.
"I will now go over every mistake and key point in detail. If you still fail the real midterm exam… feel free to jump out this window. Clearly, it was opened just for you."
The classroom instantly became a graveyard.
Everyone silently agreed: that joke was way too cold.
Takumi shook his head and muttered under his breath,
"Grades aren't everything."
"I… I think so too. What Sensei said was a bit much…"
The timid girl beside him whispered back.
Takumi suddenly grabbed her hand in excitement.
"Kindred spirits!"
She froze solid at the touch, gave a tiny tug—but couldn't pull away.
Fortunately Takumi wasn't trying to grope her; he let go almost immediately.
"By the way… we've been desk neighbors for almost two years and I still can't remember your family name. What's your full name?"
"Aoi Yuu."
Takumi was about to reply when he suddenly felt a sharp gaze stabbing into the back of his head.
He whipped around—nothing.
Weird. He scratched his head.
Finally the end-of-class bell rang.
Takumi let out a long breath. He finally understood Einstein's theory of relativity. An hour glued to Nao felt too short, but forty-five minutes of class felt like forty-five years.
He stretched lazily, then turned to Aoi Yuu who was quietly putting her books away.
"Yuu-chan, I'll have to keep borrowing your book for the next two periods. Oh—and to say thanks, let me buy you a drink. What do you want?"
"N-No need…"
"Come on, don't refuse. It's my way of saying thank you. How about a bottle of soda?"
"…Okay. Thank you."
Humming the tune of "Dango Daikazoku," Takumi headed for the door.
Just as he reached it, three girls burst in—each one dressed in flashy, over-the-top style.
Gold hair, pink hair, red hair.
Takumi silently muttered to himself:
Goldie, Pinkie, Reddie… just need a Greenie and we've got ourselves a full Mahou Shoujo sentai team.
"Aoi Yuu! Get out here!"
The moment the timid desk neighbor saw the three self-proclaimed magical girls, pure panic flooded her face.
She froze, too scared to even respond.
The chubby blonde snapped,
"Are you deaf?! I said get out here!!"
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