Looking inside the locker at the plethora of women's underwear, sweat started to bead on my forehead in sheer panic.

If anyone were to find what's in this locker, my entire life would be ruined—you hear me, totally doomed!

I had to—*had to*—get myself out of this mess…!

At that moment, my mind spun into overdrive, rapidly simulating several possible solutions.

First idea: wear the underwear myself, sneak them out of the school, and dispose of them.

No, no! The very instant that thought surfaced, I crushed it mercilessly. The risk of being spotted was way too high, and would only make the situation a thousand times worse!

If I were caught… they'd brand me as a full-blown pervert.

And if I was officially labeled a degenerate… wouldn't my plans of stealing the hearts of certain ladies become exponentially more difficult?!

...Not that it's been easy so far anyway…

Second idea: just toss the underwear onto the floor of the locker room. Least risky, sure, but it also leaves the biggest trail behind.

The boys' locker room wasn't exactly deserted right now, especially with some upperclassmen hanging around. If the lingerie was found and people investigated, wouldn't they figure out I'd snuck inside for absolutely no reason? Then my name would end up being atop the suspect list, wouldn't it?!

The final solution, and perhaps the most reliable one, was to grab my backpack from the classroom, hide the lingerie inside, and take them off the school grounds after class was over.

It'd be suspicious walking around campus during lunch period with my backpack, but what choice did I have?

Resolved, I shut the locker door and locked it, bolted out of the locker room, and rushed down the hallway toward my classroom.

As my footsteps echoed down the corridor, my previously panicked heart began to calm. It was as if the troublesome contents of the locker had been securely locked away not only with a key but also from my thoughts.

My face? A mask of calm composure—as though none of this chaos had *ever* rattled me.

I stormed into the classroom, grabbed my bag from its spot beside my desk amidst a sea of puzzled stares, and darted out again.

Luckily, it was still lunchtime, so there weren’t too many students around.

Good. In and out. Short and sweet.

Wearing my backpack, I strolled back toward the locker room, catching a number of curious glances. But what did that matter? Weird stares weren’t exactly new to me.

Besides, what I was doing was… important! Crucial, even! I was on a mission to secure my future—to ensure that those cursed pieces of women’s underwear wouldn’t ruin my life!

Could anything be nobler than freeing oneself from the shackles of mediocrity and scandal?..

Shiyi, Kurieha, you two smugly self-satisfied queens of sapphic tragedy—you better watch yourselves! Someday, someday, I, Kamidou Chiyo, will set the both of you *straight*!

...But first things first. I’ve got to deal with this mess.

Back at the locker room, I swung open my locker, shoved the offending undergarments deep into the bowels of my bag, and sealed the chamber shut with the finality of a guillotine blade.

Still, as I handled the last piece—a ghost of hesitation… made me lean forward just slightly to give it a sniff.

It had a subtle yet unmistakable… feminine scent. The kind that, no matter how many times it was washed, lingered like a quiet echo in the air.

Don’t ask me how I knew that.

—Holy hell! It’s *original*!

If this one set of “fresh” high school beauty’s underwear were auctioned off on those certain gentlemen’s websites, wouldn’t it fetch a fortune?!

Wait! I swear I’m not some kind of depraved stalker! Just look at me—all righteous and morally upright—could someone with proper principles really be *that* perverse?!

Look, even if I *were* a degenerate—which I’m absolutely not—what’s the big deal about men being perverts? What’s wrong with that?!

Just for clarification, I’m a man. I love women. I’m a proper gentleman with all the proper intentions.

Convinced I wasn’t totally insane, I zipped the bag shut, locked my locker one last time, and strode out.

When I returned to my desk in the classroom, I hung my backpack securely on the wall-side hook of my desk, effectively hiding the opening and minimizing the risk of it being tampered with.

Then, after pulling out the afternoon’s required textbooks, I attached a combination lock to the bag zipper. After all, I wasn’t exactly popular with the girls in the class. They had a habit of messing with my bag whenever I wasn’t paying attention.

Normally, I’d raise hell if anyone trifled with my backpack—but under these circumstances? No way could this bag be cracked open!

I took a deep breath. The school bell rang. The afternoon classes began.

“Yo,” Nishi suddenly turned around halfway through class. “Got news for you, bro—all the boys decided to form a club to counter the girls’ club.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

I shot him a blank stare. “And shouldn’t we be focusing on class right now?”

“Of course it’s got everything to do with you,” he grinned. “The guys voted to make you—our *least* popular guy with the ladies—the president of the club.”

Excuse me?! That’s some devilish logic—basically handing me the crown of… no, no—the bullseye *itself*!

“What’s the club called?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, thoroughly unamused. If you’re going to dump work on me, I thought, at least let me pick the name.

“We haven’t nailed one down yet. Go ahead, pick something, man.”

You little punks. Fine then—I’m not going to go easy on any of you creatures.

“Got a club application form?”

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “Most of the guys already signed it.”

I skimmed the form briefly before smirking. Reaching for a pen, I scribbled down two defiant characters in the empty club name field: “FFF Brotherhood.”

Following that, I scrawled some half-hearted description and penned my name in the “President” slot at the bottom.

This ought to kill the whole idea stone-dead. With how weird the girls’ “Kamidou Chiyo Club” sounded, there’s no way *this* application wouldn’t be thrown out as an obvious prank.

But to my utter disbelief, not only did the Student Council approve my half-joking club application, but it also became… *real*.

A real... phenomenon.

The FFF Brotherhood rapidly grew—spreading like wildfire, engulfing the entire school in a matter of weeks. Eventually, the flame even began sparking rumors across other campuses.

Of course, that’s a story for another time.

All I’d wanted at that moment was to sabotage the boys’ plans.