Sakura Airi was an extremely introverted girl.
Almost no one in the classroom spoke to her voluntarily, and during lunch break, she always sat alone in a corner, silently eating her bento.
Because Akira's seat was to her left, he occasionally had some simple interactions with her, but it was limited to that—her responses were barely audible, let alone her initiating conversation.
Would such a Sakura suddenly confess to Yamauchi?
It wasn't that he looked down on Yamauchi. It was just that this guy was really... indescribable.
All day long, he'd talk about "girls" and "romance," nine out of ten sentences revolving around his lower body, bragging about how popular he was, when in reality, most of the girls in the class couldn't even be bothered to look at him directly.
Ordinary looks, mediocre grades, average in sports, and he couldn't even find any likable qualities—because no one would bother to remember anything about him.
Akira coldly glanced at Yamauchi.
Connecting the guy's usual tall tales with Sakura's introverted, almost transparent personality—the answer was obvious.
Yamauchi merely thought Sakura was easy to bully and wouldn't retort, which is why he dared to use her to fabricate such a boring lie.
It's normal for guys to brag, but there should be a bottom line.
Bragging about getting high scores or being popular in junior high, no matter how outrageous, at least only involved himself.
But Yamauchi? To glorify himself, he didn't hesitate to use a girl who couldn't even speak loudly as a stepping stone.
This wasn't mere vanity—it was a sign of a problematic mind.
Akira was already fuming over the news of Class D's zero points, so he snapped back at the guy without hesitation.
The result was exactly as he expected.
Yamauchi's expression instantly froze, his lips moved a few times, but he couldn't even squeeze out half a decent rebuttal.
In the end, he could only flush red, muttering grumpily "...mistook the person..." and slunk back to his seat.
'Can this school expel students...'
Akira looked at Yamauchi's huddled back, this subtle thought suddenly flashing through his mind.
Yamauchi was practically a walking burden—bottom of the class in grades, no special talents, and constantly causing trouble.
Even in Class D, known for its "problem children," he managed to be at the very bottom.
It was clear how utterly useless he was.
But ultimately, ever since the entrance ceremony, Yamauchi hadn't directly provoked him.
Although he spouted nonsense this time, at least he honestly admitted his mistake after being exposed.
Akira noticed the concerned gaze from Hirata and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
'Hirata-kun... he can't possibly think I'm about to get violent, can he?'
Thinking this, he couldn't help but chuckle wryly.
Although he was in a bad mood right now, he wouldn't resort to violence over such a small matter.
Moreover, he actually respected Hirata as a class representative—the bright young man always actively helped introverted classmates integrate, patiently tutored those with poor grades, and even paid out of his own pocket to organize class dinners.
Although he himself could never become such a "saint," as a JOJO fan in his previous life, he always held a certain reverence for people who shone with "golden spirit."
Akira pulled out his phone and typed a few lines in the chat interface.
During a casual chat last week, Hirata had proactively exchanged contact information with him. He hadn't expected to use it so soon.
Shimizu Akira: Hirata-kun, please rest assured. No matter how angry I get, I wouldn't resort to violence in the classroom—this is a place for learning.
Shimizu Akira: Violence solves nothing. I've always advocated for convincing people through reason.
After sending the message, Akira habitually glanced in Hirata's direction.
Unexpectedly, the usually composed classmate was staring at his phone screen, a rare look of bewilderment on his face.
'Hmm?... Did I say something out of line?'
Akira frowned in confusion. He believed he had only spoken common pleasantries—stating his position without making things difficult for Hirata.
Logically, with Hirata's emotional intelligence, he should have been able to handle it easily.
But the other party's reaction was as if he had received some worldview-shattering statement.
This made Akira wonder if he had inadvertently touched a nerve.
His phone suddenly vibrated, interrupting Akira's thoughts.
He looked down and saw a message from his homeroom teacher, Chabashira:
{Chabashira Sae: Come to my office after school. There's something I need to discuss.}
Akira's brows unconsciously furrowed.
Why would this homeroom teacher, who usually let students do as they pleased, suddenly seek him out?
'Is it because... I didn't share the crucial information with the whole class?'
But then he thought it unlikely—Chabashira-sensei was never the type to worry about the class.
She was more like an indifferent outsider, watching the students struggle within the rules.
On the first day of school, she acted like a hands-off manager, not even bothering to provide basic class guidance.
If he hadn't actively gone to ask her, she probably wouldn't have even been interested in saying another word.
Yet, during the gamble with Sakayanagi, she unexpectedly lent a small hand, and even specifically reminded him afterward to save his private points.
'What a contradictory person...'
Akira tapped his finger on the screen, briefly replying with an "Understood."
Though full of questions about this conversation, a summons from the homeroom teacher was ultimately hard to refuse.
He recalled the scene during dinner last Friday—Horikita, who sat next to him, should have gone to see Chabashira.
'I wonder how it went?'
This thought flashed through Akira's mind, and he looked thoughtfully toward Horikita's seat.
The black-haired girl who always sat with a straight back now exuded an aura of low pressure that seemed to solidify.
If before it was an "approach at your own risk" atmosphere, now it had escalated into a terrifying "death to those who come near" domain.
Akira casually asked, "What did Chabashira-sensei say to you?"
"Hmph." Horikita sneered. "When I went to see her, she actually said—'I'm off duty already.'"
She repeated it word for word, each syllable seemingly squeezed through her teeth. "She told me to come find her again before five o'clock tonight."
"A dignified homeroom teacher," her voice suddenly dropped an octave, carrying a dangerous calm, "is more punctual with her work hours than a civil servant."
"Chabashira-sensei told me to see her after school. Let's go together," Akira calmly replied.
Horikita paused, thoughtfully scrutinizing the male classmate before her.
'This way, I might be able to obtain more useful information.'
She had to admit, with Akira's insight and ability to handle situations, having him accompany her would indeed improve efficiency.
He was being forcibly called, so there was no question of who was helping whom, which perfectly aligned with her principle of "not relying on others."
Horikita slightly pursed her lips, and after a brief silence, ultimately did not voice a refusal.
"Notify me once the time is confirmed," she paused, then added indifferently.
"I'll contact you beforehand." Akira nodded understandingly, a subtle tacit agreement forming between them.
'Exchanging contact information certainly improved efficiency a lot...'
Horikita never considered this a compromise. She simply chose the optimal solution.