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Ren Ishikawa sat at his desk, deep in thought. He needed a way to dissuade all the girls who were suddenly showing interest in him, and he needed to do it without actually hurting their feelings.
The best solution, of course, was to get expelled before any of them could make a move. But that wasn't something he could accomplish immediately. He needed an emergency plan, a way to quickly lower his appeal before an "attack" could occur.
"Why the foul look? Did you step in something on your way here, you scumbag?"
A familiar, icy voice cut through his thoughts. Ding! Your neighbor, Horikita, has sent you an invitation to a verbal sparring match.
Ren turned to face her, meeting her gaze that seemed to view him as something one might scrape off the bottom of their shoe. A spark of excitement ignited within him. Not of romantic interest, but of pure, unadulterated inspiration.
He had an idea.
"Candidate for Class Beauty," he began, "I require your assistance."
"Have I now been demoted from 'Class Beauty' to a mere 'candidate'?" she shot back.
"I just found a powerful rival for your title," he said dismissively. "But don't worry about the details. That sort of thing is beneath you, right?"
"This doesn't sound like you're asking for my help."
"To be precise, we're helping each other."
"And what, exactly, could you possibly help me with?"
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"Tell me."
Ren opened his mouth, then paused, glancing around the classroom. He noticed several pairs of eyes and ears trained on their corner. "Too many people," he whispered. "Let's add each other as contacts and discuss this privately."
Horikita looked at him with deep suspicion. "Are you absolutely certain this isn't just a trick to get my contact information?"
"You're overthinking it," Ren said flatly. "I'm only interested in your mouth, not you as a person."
Her expression soured, but in the end, she relented. He had her contact info. He quickly typed out a message and sent it.
Horikita's phone buzzed. She opened the message.
The next second, her face was a mask of murderous intent. She glanced at him, her eyes cold enough to freeze fire. "Are you kidding me?" she hissed, her knuckles white as she squeezed her phone. It looked as though she was about to use it as a brick to cave his skull in.
On her screen, the text was simple:
From: Ishikawa Ren
Content: Horikita, please be my girlfriend.
There wasn't even a question mark. It wasn't a request; it was a suggestion.
"No, I'm serious!" Ren quickly explained. "But don't worry, it's just a title. No substance, no feelings involved."
"What is that supposed to mean?" If not for the fact she already knew she couldn't beat him, she would have already thrown a punch.
"Look at your phone, there's more," Ren urged.
Knowing force was useless, Horikita took a breath and forced herself to calm down. She continued reading.
Horikita, please be my girlfriend.
You don't seem like the type who is looking for a boyfriend. What a coincidence, I'm the same way. I don't want to find a boyfriend either.
And nor a girlfriend.
Which middle school teacher taught him to use line breaks like this? she thought, annoyed, before reading the rest.
For some reason, I think a lot of the girls in our class are interested in me. It's too troublesome to reject them one by one, and even if I do, they might not give up. Such is the burden of being this charming.
Neither of us wants to be tied down by useless emotions or waste time on these distractions. So, let's cooperate. We pretend to be a couple and act as shields for each other.
Once they know you have a boyfriend, most suitors will back off. If any unethical ones still try to pursue you, we'll be justified in crushing them.
What do you say?
Ren's logic was simple. If he and Horikita were a "couple," most of his unwanted admirers would give up. Furthermore, the girls would learn what kind of "standards" he had by looking at his "girlfriend."
And who was Horikita? She was a top-tier beauty with excellent academic and physical abilities. Her personality, however, was abysmal. She was a sharp-tongued, violent woman who cared little for others. She was a "defective product," just like everyone else in Class D, but her defects were in her character, not her capability. In a class of common underachievers, she stood alone. Who could possibly compete?
Her standoffish nature and fighting ability also meant she could easily handle any "rivals" on her own. He could outsource the job of fending off his admirers to her, while he, in turn, could attract the hatred of her potential suitors.
It was a perfect, two-birds-with-one-stone plan. Of course, he didn't yet realize that Horikita had no suitors to begin with.
He watched her, waiting with anticipation for her reply. She didn't turn to speak, but simply typed a message of her own. A moment later, his phone buzzed. He eagerly opened it.
From: Horikita Suzune
Scumbag! 4...
The number four, shi, is an unlucky number in Japan, a homophone for death.1 It was a simple, elegant, and utterly dismissive curse.
Ren frowned and began typing furiously.
Ren: If you don't agree, just say no. Why resort to curses? Ah, I see. You can just drive away any suitors with your venomous tongue and your fists. A person like you, who has no regard for the health of innocent high school boys, doesn't need a shield.
[Sent]
Ren: Unlike me. As a guy, I can't just beat up a girl who's pursuing me.
[Sent]
Ren: This proves men and women are not equal. Men are the real victims here.
[Sent]
Ren: When will men finally stand up!
[Sent]
[Sending Failed. You have been added to this user's blacklist.]
Ren put his phone away, the sting of Horikita's rejection still fresh. He needed a new plan, both to lower the girls' inexplicable fondness for him and to defend against any sudden "surprise attacks." He really wished everyone could be as easy to get rid of as Horikita.
The bell rang, signaling the start of class. He spent the entire period brainstorming and finally came up with a two-pronged approach. One plan to treat the symptoms, another to treat the root cause.
First, treating the symptoms: he still needed a fake girlfriend to act as a shield. If Horikita wasn't willing, he would simply find someone else. A strong enough shield would deter most advances.
Second, treating the root cause: he had to figure out how to be genuinely unlikable. Since his aggressive behavior yesterday had somehow backfired, he would have to stop doing that. Instead, he would study the boys in class whom the girls actively disliked and learn their advanced techniques for repelling others. He would test their methods, refine them, and develop a reliable way to generate hatred.
But that would take time. Treating the symptoms could yield immediate results. He decided to focus on that first.
He reviewed his criteria for a suitable fake girlfriend:
She must dislike or even hate him, ensuring the fake relationship wouldn't accidentally become real.She must be capable of defending herself against any potential rivals.She must be unique and difficult to replicate, setting a high, intimidating bar for any would-be suitors.She must be controllable and "loyal" to their arrangement.
The fourth point was crucial. He needed to prevent her from ignoring her role as a shield, which would render her useless. He also needed to prevent her from using her status as "Ren's girlfriend" to cause trouble that might interfere with his plans or, worse, make him feel guilty.
After some consideration, he realized a perfect candidate had already presented herself. It was the gyaru who had dared to glare at him so fiercely that very morning.
After class, Ren consulted the seating chart to find her name: Karuizawa Kei.
From her hostile glare, he could tell she had no romantic interest in him. Condition one: met.
As the leader of the gyaru clique, she likely had a tough reputation and could handle herself. Other girls wouldn't dare to mess with her. Condition two: met.
Her "top gyaru" attribute was unique in the class. While Horikita was a piece of solid ice you wouldn't dare touch for fear of frostbite, Karuizawa was a ball of fire, scorching anything that got too close. She was almost as beautiful as Horikita and a strong contender for class beauty in her own right. Her personality set a very specific, intimidating standard. Condition three: met.
Furthermore, a girl like her was bound to have suitors, and those suitors were more likely to be the aggressive, violent types he needed to provoke for his expulsion plan.
That left the final, most difficult condition: how to ensure her loyalty and control? Common interests were unlikely. That left threats and leverage.
Ren decided to start observing her. He needed to find her weaknesses, her interests, or, ideally, evidence of wrongdoing he could use as blackmail. If she really was a delinquent, she had to have done something, right? Bullying weaker students, extorting "loans"... if he could get proof, he could use her without any psychological burden. He would simply be putting her through a "re-education through labor" program.
Time flew by, and soon it was the one-hour lunch break. Ren, who was still unfamiliar with the customs of Japanese high schools, watched his classmates to see how they handled their midday meal.
Most students ate bento boxes at their desks, either bought from the convenience store or prepared at home. He noticed the food was always cold and had very little sauce. It was a practical consideration: cold food was less likely to spoil and produced less odor, which might disturb others. To Ren, eating such a meal every day was a form of torture. He needed something warm in his stomach to feel truly satisfied.
An idea struck him. If I eat strong-smelling food in the classroom, would that lower the girls' favorability?
He immediately dismissed it. What if they misinterpret it again as another "Man, you've successfully caught my attention" scenario? It was too risky. For now, he would just observe.
Besides bento boxes, students could also go to the cafeteria. Deciding he needed a hot meal, Ren chose the latter.
On his way out of the classroom, a group of girls moving their desks together blocked his path. He decided to take the opportunity to conduct an experiment.
"You're in my way," he said, his tone deliberately flat and impolite.
Faced with his rudeness, the girls didn't get angry at all. Instead, they broke into happy smiles. "Oh, sorry!" they said in unison, quickly clearing a path for him.
(He's so funny when he's bad with words!) one of them thought.
Ren felt a wave of profound discomfort. They weren't angry; they were happy. So weird.
It was settled. Confirmed. There was no other explanation.
They must be love-brained.
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