Chapter 2
(Narrator POV)
Day two at Advanced Nurturing High School, and the year was already shifting beneath everyone's feet. Alliances were forming, tensions quietly brewing.
In Class 1-A, the divide was clear: two factions, two leaders—Sakayanagi Arisu and Katsuragi Kōhei—already sizing each other up like rival generals.
In Class 1-B, it seemed almost inevitable that Horiyama Tensei would take the lead. His commanding presence had already left its mark on his classmates.
Class 1-C was shaping up under the warm yet quietly capable leadership of Ichinose Honami, who had no trouble rallying support.
Class 1-D remained a mystery. No rumors, no clear leader—just silence, which in this school could be more dangerous than open hostility.
Class 1-E was leaderless for now, but whispers pointed toward Ryuen Kakeru, whose violent reputation preceded him. If he stepped up, it would be through intimidation, not charm.
Class 1-F seemed content to keep to themselves. Still, Kushida Kikyo had already begun reaching out to students in other classes, befriending them rather than playing power games—at least for now she didn't seem like the power games type.
The pieces were moving into place, the board quietly set for whatever came next. And their first exam… would throw the entire arrangement into chaos.
But for now, our attention shifts to Class 1-D.
(Change of POV)
Evie Callahan was an American transfer student—but unlike students like Yamada Albert, she didn't understand a single word of Japanese. Not yet, anyway. For now, she had to rely on a translator to get through her classes, at least until she was fluent. She'd only moved from America last year, and it showed.
She was a frail-looking girl—short bob cut, skinny frame, pouty eyes that made her look perpetually curious or annoyed, depending on the angle. Beneath that, though, she had a ton of personality, and a flair for the dramatic. The only problem? She couldn't understand half the people around her.
Oh jeez, she thought, glancing around her classroom. How am I gonna make friends like this? Learning Japanese is so hard…
Her class was… interesting, to say the least. A few standouts here and there, but the teacher? She couldn't stand him. Mr. Hiraya. In her words: "dickhead." He had this habit of calling her out whenever she made mistakes in English—English—which only made her blood boil.
The whole class seemed intent on keeping a low profile. And Evie? She'd already skimmed through the school's handbook—with her translator's help—and knew how Advanced Nurturing High School operated. That didn't make it any less intimidating.
Still, there was that one girl from Class 1-F… what was her name again? It started with a K. Evie couldn't remember, but the girl had seemed eager to befriend her—maybe just because she was American. Evie even taught the girl how to greet someone in English.
But then things got weird. The girl started asking something—fast, excited—and Evie had no idea what she was saying. Maybe she wanted her phone number? Whatever it was, Evie panicked and slipped away before it got any more awkward.
She sighed, sinking into her chair. This is gonna be a long year.
A black-haired girl stood up as soon as Hiraya-sensei left the room. Her eyes were cold, sharp as glass, and her frame was lean—short, but with the kind of presence that could turn heads without even trying.
Man, she's gorgeous, Evie thought. Not that she swung that way, but come on—girls could appreciate another girl's beauty, couldn't they?
⸻
(Change of POV)
"Alright, you sly animals," the black-haired girl said, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Let's get something straight—I'm tired of the bull. From here on out, we cut the crap."
"And you are…?" A red-haired girl shot back from across the room, clearly unimpressed with her tone.
"You don't get to know my name," the black-haired girl replied smoothly, "not until you've earned my respect."
The class froze—some in shock, others in confusion, and a few with that oh no, this is going to get messy look.
"Oh, so you're above us now?" Red-hair leaned forward, voice dripping with challenge. "Here's a wake-up call, Miss All-High-and-Mighty—this school is way above what any of us are capable of. And if you want my respect? I'm already better than you."
The black-haired girl's smile sharpened. "Oh? Then let's make it interesting, Red-hair. If you're so good, let's brawl. Right here. Right now."
That was all it took. The entire class erupted—some shouting encouragement, others calling for them to stop, and a few already moving desks out of the way.
A tall, brown-haired boy sitting in the back didn't even flinch at the shouting. He just let out a slow sigh.
And this… this is why we're Class 1-D. A pack of ruffians.
How disgusting.
⸻
"I don't fight without purpose," Red-hair snapped, eyes locking onto her opponent.
"Oh?" The black-haired girl's smile widened, her tone playful but edged like a blade. "Then how about we put points on the line?"
Red-hair's eyes narrowed. "Are you really that foolish? You do realize we'd both get in trouble with the school, right? Suspension could be on the table… maybe even losing privileges. We don't even fully know how this school operates yet."
The black-haired girl didn't even blink. "Let me make one thing clear, Red-hair."
Before anyone could react, she stepped forward, grabbed a desk with one hand, and slammed it aside with a loud thunk. The sudden motion cleared her path as she closed the distance in a heartbeat.
In one swift move, she shoved Red-hair back until the girl's shoulders hit the corner wall. The impact wasn't brutal, but the positioning was unmistakable—she'd been overpowered and trapped in an instant.
For a moment, the class could only watch, stunned. The black-haired girl's build didn't scream "athlete," but now it was obvious—she was hiding the kind of strength that didn't come from casual workouts.
Red-hair struggled, but it was useless. The black-haired girl's grip was iron.
"If we want to rise to Class 1-A," the black-haired girl said, her voice sharp as a whip, "we can't just play nice and hold hands. We'll need to get our hands dirty—like the animals we are. I've already heard whispers behind people's backs."
Her gaze swept the room, freezing students in their seats.
"That's why I'm taking the leadership role." Her lips curved into a smirk. "So try and stop me."
The red-haired girl glared back. "Do you really think this little stunt proves anything?"
"It proves I'm willing to make a stand," the black-haired girl replied coolly. "We're already stuck in Class 1-D, so I'll take the fight to the other classes. I'll be the one they remember."
The room shifted. Students who'd been skeptical now watched her with something closer to respect—or fear. Her confidence was magnetic, her control absolute.
"Fine," Red-hair said at last, her voice tight. "Do it your way. I'm not interested in fighting you, but I'll fight for the class. Just not for you."
The black-haired girl's smirk deepened. "So be it."
You'll be mine soon enough…
⸻
(Evie's POV)
What the hell just happened? Evie blinked, still trying to process the scene.
From her point of view, the two girls had been seconds away from tearing each other apart—but instead, the black-haired one had somehow crushed the redhead with nothing more than words and attitude. And now the class actually liked her? That was… terrifying.
"Oh well," Evie muttered under her breath, leaning back in her chair. Not that I understood a damn thing they said. She only knew what she saw—and what she saw was a scary level of charisma and manipulation.
Outside Class 1-F
Kushida Kikyo, all smiles and natural curves, walked alongside Kiyotaka Ayanokoji. Her voice was as light and sweet as the spring breeze drifting across campus.
"So, Ayanokoji-kun! Have you gotten to know any of the students from other classes yet?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.
"Not really," he replied. "I barely know anyone from our class either."
"Oh, really? It seemed like you and Horikita got along just fine." She tapped a finger to her cheek in mock curiosity, leaning forward just enough for her chest to press against his arm.
"Nah," he said without missing a beat. "Horikita doesn't like me much. She's just… direct."
"Ah~ okay!" Kushida beamed. "You know, there's an American transfer student in Class 1-D. Really sweet girl—she even taught me how to greet in English!"
"Really?"
"Mm-hm! But…" she puffed her cheeks in mild frustration, "I don't think she understands any Japanese. I tried befriending her, but when I asked for her number, she froze, looked like a deer in headlights, and—poof—ran away."
Ayanokoji glanced at her, his expression unreadable. Interesting… but ultimately trivial.
"I see."
Hallway outside Class 1-F
Just as Kushida and Ayanokoji turned the corner, a blonde girl with twin-tails approached, carrying an open, confident smile. Naturally, Kushida greeted her with a wave.
"Hello there!" Kushida chimed.
"Well, hello to you too," the girl replied smoothly. "Class 1-F students, I presume? I just saw you walk past that room."
"Haha, correct!" Kushida's voice beamed warmth. "And you? What class are you from?"
"Class 1-B," the girl said. "You can call me Bubbles. Let's say fate brought us together on this very pathway."
(She's interesting.) Ayanokoji's inner voice stayed calm, observant.
"Class 1-B… wow! That's amazing—you must be so prestigious to be in such a high class," Kushida praised.
"Eh, not really," Bubbles replied with a sly shrug. "I'm just a gal. What damage could little old me do? But thanks for the compliment."
"Want to be friends? My name's Kushida, and I want to be friends with everyone in the school—it's my goal!"
"How lovely," Bubbles said, tone hovering somewhere between genuine and mocking. "Sure, I guess it can't hurt. Here's my number… but, Breasts-san," she added with a playful tilt of the head toward Kushida, "don't take too steep a step down the wolf's path."
She then turned her gaze to Ayanokoji. "And you, Mister Nonchalant—hopefully I didn't terrify you."
Sharp intuition… Ayanokoji thought. She's already wary of Kushida, not buying the act entirely. Quite a predicament.
Bubbles, meanwhile, made her own silent note. This guy's clearly afraid of social situations. More tea for me to spill on the other classes later.
For the briefest moment, Kushida's warm mask cracked—her eyes widening—but she quickly recovered, pocketing the phone number with a perfect smile.
As Bubbles walked away, Kushida tilted her head toward Ayanokoji.
"So, Ayanokoji-kun, what did you think of her?"
"She seemed nice."
She's Ultimately Trivial. Ayanokoji actually thought in his head.
"Ah, I agree." Kushida said smiling at him with his sentiment that she seemed nice but Kushida was also a touch too wary not seen by normal people but freaks like Ayanokoji noticed it from a point blank distance.
Carlos strolled into Class 1-B with a smirk tugging at his lips. A week since his transfer, and he was already settling into the rhythm of the Advanced Nurturing High School. Another day, another chance to climb higher.
His eyes landed on Benji Hitmon, a tall, easygoing guy with a knack for making friends. Carlos's expression brightened as he walked over.
"Yo, Benji," Carlos greeted, giving him a casual fist bump.
"Carlos! Another early start, huh?" Benji grinned.
They chatted easily, swapping stories about their morning and the latest bits of classroom gossip. In just a week, Carlos had already gotten acquainted with a good chunk of Class 1-B, enough to feel the subtle hum of its hierarchy.
The atmosphere shifted when Horiyama Tensei walked in. Tall, sharp-eyed, and always carrying himself with a quiet authority, he was flanked by Sasakibe Ranho—whose broad shoulders and measured silence made him look more like a bodyguard than a classmate—and Bubbles, the class's undeniable center of attention.
The trio seemed mid-discussion, Bubbles gesturing animatedly as her twin-tails bounced, while Horiyama kept his voice low and steady. The moment he noticed Carlos and Benji, Horiyama called out.
"Oi, you two. Come here."
Carlos raised a brow but followed, Benji at his side.
Horiyama leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.
"We've got some news. Plans are forming—serious ones—about how we're going to push this class up to 1-A. We're going to need people who can pull their weight… and keep their mouths shut."
Carlos's smirk returned. "Sounds like my kind of conversation."
Bubbles tilted her head with a knowing smile.
"Ah, glad you agree, Sombrero-kun. Because we need to play this out well."
Benji immediately stepped in, half-serious, half-playful. "You don't need to give him a nickname, Bubbles. He's on our side."
Messing with Bubbles, though, was like poking a cat—you might get a purr, or you might get claws. Carlos knew that all too well but also she gave everyone nicknames so.
"Oh, Benji-kun," Bubbles purred, "during class the other day, I did notice you staring at Anger-san's derrière. Should I tell her?" Her smile sharpened into something snake-like.
The name hit the air like a dropped glass—Rose Tanihana. The "Anger-san" of Class 1-B. Quiet, cold, and sharp enough to cut with a glance. She didn't mingle, didn't joke, and rumor was she'd once made a classmate transfer seats just by glaring at them.
Benji's hands shot up defensively. "Whoa—what? I wasn't— You're making stuff up!"
Bubbles's grin widened like a predator who'd scented blood.
"Drop it." Horiyama's voice cut through the teasing like a blade. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over all three of us. The air around him shifted—gone was the casual upperclassman vibe, replaced by something heavier.
"This isn't a playground. We're talking about getting to Class 1-A. That means fewer distractions, less noise… and more action. If we're not working toward the same goal, we're wasting time."
Bubbles raised her hands in mock surrender, still smirking. "Fine, fine. No more fun."
I wasn't fooled. She wasn't done—not by a long shot but of course she was just teasing it wasn't that serious.
Horiyama already had his sights set on Class 1-A. He'd picked up on the two factions vying for control up there, and while he didn't know much about the other classes, he didn't particularly care either. His focus was on the crack forming at the top.
"Sakayanagi and Katsuragi factions," Sasakibe said flatly.
"Correct," Horiyama replied. "That's all we know so far. But an inner struggle this early could work in our favor—no matter how it plays out."
Bubbles tilted her head at him with that catlike grin of hers. "Couldn't imagine that happening to us… So, which faction do you think will win, Muscle-kun?"
Horiyama didn't answer. He didn't have to. All he needed was the fact that 1-A was already split. That alone was enough to make him pay attention.
For now, there wasn't much Class 1-B could do anyway—not until the school rolled out the first big announcements. After all, it had only been a week since they'd all arrived.
Still, I had to ask.
"So… what's our play when the school does announce something?"
Horiyama answered without hesitation—he'd already united the class under his command. The rest of 1-B seemed content with that, especially after he'd warned them not to recklessly spend points or get into trouble. Any slip-up could have consequences they didn't yet understand, so his orders were simple: keep your eyes open.
Before we could dig deeper, Ms. Ramamiya walked in. Everyone returned to their seats, and just like that, the meeting was adjourned.
⸻
Ryuen Kakeru was a dangerous man. He knew many of the Seven Arts of Violence and had already taken full control of his class through sheer violence.
When Ishizaki Daichi sent him a strange message—one with no sender listed—it caught his attention immediately.
Ryuen read it once. Then again.
And then, he smirked—slowly, violently—like a man already picturing the chaos to come.
End of Chapter 2.