Annoyed. Seriously annoyed. Beyond annoyed.
Yuri Kotake sat in the very last row of the classroom. Only two types of students ended up back here: the exceptionally tall, or those the teachers had written off—tucked away where they’d stay out of sight and out of mind.
Yuri Kotake fit both.
Her gaze locked coldly on Yukieda and Mari up front.
Why did *that* transfer student get to act so effortlessly calm, laughing and chatting with classmates like she belonged?
Fine, the transfer was one thing—but Mari? *That* plain girl? She’d actually changed her whole look today! Boys who’d never glanced her way were now actively striking up conversations.
A boy talking with Yukieda accidentally glanced back, caught Kotake’s icy stare, and quickly looked away.
To Kotake, it screamed mockery.
*As if he’s saying: “What a worthless delinquent—still sore about getting wrecked by one transfer student taking on three of you.”*
Not just him. Kotake swept her eyes around the room. Everyone who met her gaze flinched away.
Ever since that video went viral, she’d become the delinquent world’s punchline. Mention her name? “Oh, *that* Kotake—the one taken down in a single move.”
So what if she’s strong? *I* spent a fortune… You *will* pay.
*Snap!* The pencil broke cleanly in half. In the noisy classroom, no one noticed.
“Today, our class welcomes another new transfer student,” Teacher Kagejima announced from the podium. Hands shot up.
“Another one? It’s only been days!”
“Boy or girl, sensei?”
“That’s a secret—even I don’t know. The notice came suddenly. I don’t even have their name yet.”
“A foreigner?”
“Nope.”
Boys lost interest instantly. Even if she’s cute, could she top Yukieda? And if it’s a guy? Forget it.
Girls buzzed with hope—maybe a handsome guy? Bolder ones joked about who’d “score first.”
Yukieda rested her chin on a pale hand, utterly uninterested. She slid her terminal from the drawer. Notifications: empty. Not even spam.
*Probably because of who I am.*
A ringtone cut through the chatter. Kagejima fumbled his terminal out— froze at “Headmaster” flashing on screen—then hurried out, leaving the door open. Chaos erupted.
Even Mari dared to speak to Yukieda. *Never* would she have before. *New look = new confidence?* Yukieda noted she still avoided eye contact.
“Yukieda-chan… did you read my novel?”
“Mm! It was fun. You should keep writing—maybe post it online.”
Mari’s tension visibly melted. Her eyes lit up.
Yukieda wasn’t lying. She’d expected delicate, girly prose. Instead: *blood splatter, brains everywhere*. Most girls would cringe. Yukieda? Not most girls.
“Yukieda-chan… lunch together?”
Yukieda gave a graceful nod. Mari beamed.
Teen feelings—so simple, so pure. No adult scheming. Maybe that’s why grown-ups ache to go back.
“Ahem! Class!”
Kagejima returned—but didn’t close the door.
Before he could speak, someone stepped in.
A girl with a sharp gaze and striking height. Most unforgettable: her long, taut legs in short socks, skin peeking through, stirring quiet imagination.
Only drawback? Flat chest—visible even under the uniform.
*Cold beauty. Killer legs.* Yukieda’s first impression.
Boys’ eyes magnetized to her legs. Girls sighed: *Another stunning girl…*
*None of my business,* Yukieda decided. *Stick to Mari. Avoid others.*
She gazed out the window. Thanks to years of cleanup, the sky was vivid blue. Stars visible at night.
*I wonder what Shizuku’s up to. Probably awake by now.*
Kagejima fumbled. Usually *he* invited the student in…
“Mai Haruka.”
Written neatly on the board.
“As you can see,” Mai stated coolly, cutting him off, “I’m here for Oriuchi Yuki.”
A roar of whispers. Every eye swiveled to Yukieda. Even Mari blinked in confusion.
Yukieda straightened slightly, pasting on an innocent expression.
Mai simply watched Kagejima.
“Ah… anything else to add?” he stammered.
“No. Please seat me near Oriuchi.”
Though taller, Kagejima felt oddly smaller—like standing before the Headmaster.
“Ryoza, swap seats with Mai. You take the empty spot.”
“Huh?!” A short-haired boy behind Yukieda groaned inwardly. *No more ogling Yukieda-chan… especially in summer sailor uniforms. Thin fabric. Sweat. Gone.*
Other boys smirked—*If I can’t have it, neither can you.*
Yukieda suspected: *Is she the help? Confirm at lunch… or call Mr. Kenji.*
Mai strode past on those long legs. Yukieda offered a polite smile. Mai didn’t glance her way.
*Awkward. You just said you came for me.*
A high-floor breeze swept in, fluttering curtains—and Mai’s skirt.
Boys’ eyes snapped like radar. *She’s bare-legged! This means—*
*Tch.*
A collective disappointed sigh. Safety shorts.
*Bare legs plus safety shorts… ultimate tease.*
Kagejima scurried out, unsure why he felt the need to flee.
During class, Yukieda felt Mai’s stare boring through her back—like trying to X-ray her underwear color. She shifted uncomfortably.
*Why’s she staring at me instead of the board?*
Lunchtime finally came. One hour. She’d promised Mari.
Mari nervously pushed her desk over, words stuck in her throat—all because of Mai.
Surprisingly, Mai also had a bento (store-bought). She joined the table in silence.
Mari gathered courage. “Um… Mai-san, where did you transfer from?”
Mai’s black-and-white eyes lifted—utterly unreadable.
Mari ducked her head, flustered.
“Abroad.”
Silence thickened. Yukieda had questions—but not with Mari here.
“Mari-chan, didn’t you hear? The cafeteria vending machine has a new soda flavor.”
“Huh? Really?” Mari blinked.
Yukieda winked.
“Oh! Right! I’ve been wanting to try it—heard it’s good, hehe.” Robot-like, Mari packed up and left.
Yukieda transferred 6 credits to her terminal: *Three drinks. My treat.*
Only Yukieda, Mai, and the breeze-touched curtain remained.
Before Yukieda could speak—
“Oriuchi. Hello. Starting today, I’m your partner. Mr. Kenji should have briefed you.”
“Partner?” Yukieda’s voice hitched.
Hearing *Mr. Kenji* confirmed 70%. But *partner*? He never mentioned that.
“Yes. Please take care of me.”
Yukieda’s mind spun. “Wait—I need to call Mr. Kenji. He must’ve mixed something up. I just asked for… help.”
Mai’s expression didn’t shift. Her steady gaze said: *Go ahead.*
