“In my first year of high school, my mother’s affair was discovered. This time, she didn’t endure in silence—she divorced my father outright and remarried the man she’d been with.”

Ayumu Genya wasn’t surprised by this turn of events. After all, Japan ranks first globally for female infidelity rates, hitting 49% as early as 2017. Most involved were housewives. One could argue it’s precisely because housewives form such a large demographic that the rate stays high. With little daily pressure, repeating the same chores day after day, their lives grow monotonous. Meanwhile, husbands work long hours to support the family, returning home too exhausted to offer care. Over time, seeking excitement becomes almost inevitable.

“What about you?” Ayumu asked softly.

“Did you stay with your father… or your mother?” Worried Hinata Minano might not grasp his meaning, he rephrased gently.

“I went with my mother,” Hinata began, voice steady yet fragile. “But her new husband already had a son. My situation barely changed. Everyone doted on my younger brother, sparing me not a single glance. Because I was born of her and my father, she said seeing me brought back memories of the abuse… called me her shame… even said she wished she’d never had me. I felt like an extra person—someone with no right to remain. So I ran away.” She recounted it all with quiet composure.

Ayumu’s chest tightened. If merely listening hurt this much, how deeply scarred must Hinata be? No wonder she carried that quiet insecurity. Trapped in a cycle of rejection and self-doubt, who could keep their confidence intact?

“How did you escape? Did they… never look for you?”

“I… told them I was staying with my dad. They believed me. Never contacted me again. Probably… still haven’t noticed? Clever of me, right?” Hinata smiled, trying to sound proud. But Ayumu couldn’t smile back. He recognized that bitter, forced grin—a shield against sorrow. Her father despised her, had beaten her repeatedly; returning was impossible. Her lie was paper-thin, yet her mother accepted it eagerly. The proof? Months gone, not one message.

“I answered your questions. Now it’s your turn, Ayumu-kun.” Hinata’s eyes softened. “Tell me—how did someone so gentle and kind become a delinquent?”

*Gentle? Kind?* Ayumu almost laughed. She hadn’t seen him handle Yohei Takagi or Tatsuya Inoue. She only knew he’d protected her—not the shadowed corners where his actions held no kindness.

“Me?”

Truth was, it started because of Yui Aso. Her unwavering honesty set her apart. *A standout tree invites the wind’s wrath.* In middle school, unnoticed. But as high school class monitor, her rigidity offended many. How could Ayumu stand by while his childhood friend suffered? He quietly confronted bullies and would-be avengers. Their grudges turned on him; stronger foes emerged. Though already strong in first year, he lost fights. Each loss fueled relentless training—until he reclaimed what was his.

Strength grew. Fear spread. People offered money to stay on his good side. Poor and tempted, Ayumu slowly lost his way, drifting deeper into delinquency. Now infamous—undefeated across Saitama Prefecture’s high schools.

Too complex to explain. So he simplified.

“Once, I fought a classmate. He lost. Gave me cash to let him go. I thought… losers *should* pay up. And well—you know the rest. Became a ‘hopeless delinquent.’” He omitted Yui entirely. The original owner’s feelings were none of his concern. No need to stir misunderstandings—or explanations later. Only he knew the real reason.

“Ayumu-kun isn’t hopeless! You’re gentle and kind. *He* was wrong to bribe you. You were just… momentarily tempted.” Hinata argued with fierce sincerity.

Ayumu realized then: his “noble image” was etched deep into her heart. She was practically a devoted fan—capable of defending him with logic like, *“If a girl’s taken advantage of, it’s her fault for wearing a short skirt.”*

What Ayumu didn’t know? In Hinata’s world, he was her light.

“And why did you suddenly quit being a delinquent?” she pressed.

“Does this count as question two? Can I skip it?”

The truth—soul transmigration—was unbelievable. He wouldn’t say it.

The moment he hesitated, Hinata’s eyes welled. “You… said you were my first friend. Was it all… a lie?” she whispered, voice trembling.

“Wait—I’ll tell you!” Ayumu sighed. “Remember my recent absence? I fought someone off-campus, got hospitalized. Woke up to my mom sobbing by my bed. I promised her then—no more worries. So… I quit.” Another gentle lie.

“I wish I could meet her,” Hinata murmured, eyes shimmering with envy. “What a wonderful mother… to raise someone like you.”

This time, Ayumu stayed silent. He knew she was thinking of her own mother—hurting in quiet.

“You’ll see her tonight…”