"She's the newest member of our Kessoku Band… though 'new' isn't quite right. She deserted us—vanished without warning. At the time we had no idea where she'd gone; Ryo even thought she might be dead…"
Ijichi Nijika rested both hands on Kita Ikuyo's shoulders and delivered that less-than-flattering introduction.
"N-no, that's not it! I just… I'm really not very good at guitar…"
Kita Ikuyo exploded like a dropped pot, then, under the other girls' curious stares, shrank back and muttered an embarrassed explanation.
When Chen Yao realized she was Goto Hitori's bandmate, he brightened at once. "Nice to meet you. I'm Goto Hitori's senpai—Chen Yao, second-year. She'll be counting on you."
Chen Yao disliked small talk, but he had to build connections for his pupil. This red-haired girl looked cute yet calm and reliable, so he introduced himself.
Up close, Kita Ikuyo felt her heart race the moment Chen Yao smiled. Something about him felt unexpectedly appealing. "I—Ikuyo. Just Ikuyo is fine!"
"Isn't your name Kita Ikuyo? Why not give the full version?" Yamada Ryo piped up.
"Huh? W-who are you calling? I don't know anyone by that name…"
Kita Ikuyo swivelled toward Yamada Ryo like a robot and asked, mortified.
Because "Kita" sounds like the Japanese for "arrived" and "Ikuyo" resembles "left," Classmates had once mocked her as "Miss Come-and-Go," to her lasting dismay.
Chen Yao, puzzled, wrote her kanji on paper. "Is this your name?"
The other girls nodded; Kita Ikuyo herself lost all color.
"It's a lovely name. As an exchange student I'm tone-deaf to Japanese puns, but spoken in Chinese it sounds beautiful—Kita Ikuyo."
Chen Yao studied the characters and told them so.
"…"
Kita Ikuyo blinked. Was it true that her name sounded fine in another tongue—or was the senior just being kind?
"Great! If Master says so, it must be true… you don't need an English name…" Goto Hitori whispered, timid yet happy for her.
"Mm…"
Kita Ikuyo scratched her cheek, shyly pleased by the praise. Nijika and Ryo noted her odd reaction; Hitori's master seemed formidable, though they doubted she knew how eccentric he really was.
"I'm starving, Mr. Chen Yao—treat us to lunch?"
Suddenly Yamada Ryo made the kind of request most Japanese girls would never dare.
Ijichi Nijika flushed. Ryo's only flaw was her shamelessness; in a way she was as odd as they came.
Chen Yao blinked, sure he'd misheard. Japanese girls cared about face, yet Ryo looked perfectly serious. Normally he'd guard every yen, but she'd cheered for him on the baseball field and knew a secret of his… "Sure! Curry sound good?"
Four orders of curry—only ¥3,200 total. Cheap.
"Don't listen to her—she spouts nonsense sometimes…"
Nijika clapped a hand over Ryo's mouth, laughing nervously.
Ryo's stomach growled; Nijika groaned and hid her face.
Chen Yao chuckled. "It's the school festival—food's cheap and tasty. Besides, good manners say I should treat you."
The four girls followed him to a second-year curry stall. Along the way Nijika kept scolding Ryo, but once four hearty, fragrant plates arrived they agreed Sobu students took curry seriously.
"Thanks for treating us, Chen Yao—this looks amazing! Uh, Ryo, thank him before you inhale it?"
Nijika had meant to praise him, but Ryo was already spooning curry like a machine.
The classroom cafeteria bustled. While they ate, students from Seido High—including the Takahashi brothers and Fujiwara Takumi—wandered in. Even the biker girls who'd ridden from Gunma spotted Chen Yao through the window, poured inside to check on his injuries.
Before anyone noticed, every seat held someone Chen Yao knew; even he wondered how the day had spiralled into this.
Strange—I only got a minor injury, so it's not odd for people I know to drop by, but what's going on today? Why are so many of them coming just to see me?
Chen Yao eyed them in puzzlement and asked.
They're all here because they care about Classmate Chen Yao.
Ijichi Nijika said with a smile.
I don't know the details of your life, Classmate Chen Yao, but judging by the people you know, you've clearly been through a lot. For some reason, they all want to get closer to you.
Ijichi Nijika studied the crowd with a trace of emotion. It was the same with us… Just then, the long-haired beauty from Seido High stepped forward and handed Chen Yao a business card. "Classmate Chen Yao, may I have a moment? I'm Fujiwara Takako, manager of Seido High. We played a baseball game against your school last week. We were very impressed with your performance and sincerely hope our schools can establish a joint baseball-training partnership…"
...
Takahashi Ryosuke and Takahashi Keisuke watched quietly; both knew Seido had come with an agenda.
But Chen Yao sighed. "Those matters should be discussed with Sobu High's teachers and coach. Coming to me is useless…"
Just as things felt increasingly off, Horikita Manabu's voice rang out: "Sorry, Seido, but please step aside. I need to discuss something important with Classmate Chen Yao first."
Wearing the red uniform, Horikita Manabu strode up with secretary Tachibana Akane and spoke plainly.
"Uh… and you two are?"
The clueless Sawamura Eijun asked in irritation.
Miyuki Kazuya's expression shifted the moment he saw the red blazer. "That's the Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School uniform. Why is someone from Koudo Ikusei here?"
At the mention of the famous Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, everyone's face changed.
"Sorry, not interested, President Horikita. I have a feeling you're here to dump more trouble on us. Whatever it is, I decline."
Chen Yao raised a hand in firm refusal.
Horikita Manabu only smiled, unsurprised and unperturbed.
"Still persistent, Horikita," Takahashi Ryosuke remarked.
"Heh, don't write me off yet. Senior Ryosuke, if I told you I'll share what you've suspected about the bigger conspiracy behind that incident, would Classmate Chen Yao be willing to hear me out?"
Horikita Manabu asked with a faint smile.
Chapter 047 – Looks Like the Deal Is Done
"What I want is your help with Koudo Ikusei High's first-year summer project. You don't have to do anything—just take part."
Horikita Manabu handed Chen Yao a folder and made his pitch.
"So why on earth do I have to join your school's event—wait, summer project? Your school is that scary? You even schedule projects for summer break?"
Chen Yao sensed something off. Just how Spartan were they, not letting students rest in summer?
"Heh, true, but there's worse to come. This one should be light—mostly fun activities…"
Horikita Manabu kept promoting it like a salesman.
Chen Yao, seeing that shrewd grin, felt danger and thrust the proposal back. "President Horikita, I'll pass. I'm not interested in inside stories; I just want a quiet summer."
Horikita Manabu merely smiled. "Naturally. Yet I believe you need to join. Help me, and I'll repay you—using my authority and connections as Student Council president. How about it?"
"No thanks. I'm an ordinary guy; I don't need high-level clout. I've got a busy part-time job this summer—no time. Find someone else."
Chen Yao remained resolute.
"A-hem, Classmate Chen Yao," Tachibana Akane added, "our Student Council liaises with Japan's Ministry of Education. It could greatly help your studies here. Rethink it?"
"…I'm just a regular exchange student; I don't need deep ties with the Ministry. Please look elsewhere."
Chen Yao shook his head firmly and looked ready to bolt.
Horikita Manabu pondered, then scribbled an addendum: "In that case, let me sweeten the deal. Look before you decide."
He handed the plan back. Chen Yao read the new line: [Daily pay: ¥30,000, settled daily, seven-day limit.]
Chen Yao blinked. Thirty thousand yen a day—more than he earned drawing manga—for what amounted to a trip. The offer was tempting, yet he still asked, "So why are you so set on having me come, President Horikita?"
"Someday you'll understand."
Horikita Manabu pocketed his pen and stood. Tachibana Akane knew the deal was sealed.
Everyone wondered what lucrative terms had swayed the stubborn Chen Yao. As Horikita and Akane turned to leave, Horikita told Takahashi Ryosuke, "Senior Ryosuke, I'll send you the data later—judge for yourself."
...
Takahashi Ryosuke stared at Horikita Manabu in silence; even now he couldn't fathom why Horikita was so fixated on Chen Yao.
"Master… are you really going to take part in their school event?"
Goto Hitori asked curiously.
"Because… his terms genuinely moved me."
After a brief silence, Chen Yao uttered something profoundly meaningful.
The students eating in the classroom exchanged puzzled looks—what condition had Horikita Manabu offered to sway Chen Yao…?
Meanwhile, at Koudo Ikusei High School, Sakayanagi Arisu—alone in her room studying a chessboard—heard her phone chime.
"Hmm?"
She cast a languid glance at the screen; her informant had sent word of a summer island trip the school was organizing. Bored, she yawned and switched it off.
Such excursions had nothing to do with her; her health was poor, and the flimsy "group tour" excuse convinced her the school was hatching another tiresome exam.
Moments later a second message arrived. Sitting upright, she reluctantly checked it: the Student Council had issued a revised plan along with the sign-up list.
"…So they're simply making every class from A to D participate."
She scrolled the lengthy register with a finger, found nothing of note, and set the phone on her desk.
Then a half-visible name at the very bottom flickered into her mind, oddly familiar. Startled, she picked the phone up again and swiped upward.
——To enhance academic observation among top schools, the Student Council cordially invites the following students to join the island retreat: Classmate Chen Yao of Chiba Prefecture Sobu High School; Classmate … of Chiba Prefecture Sobu High School…
"…"
Arisu studied the appended list, pondered in silence, and finally reached a decision.
Only a week into July, exam season over, Japanese high schools released their students for summer break.
Unsurprisingly, after a semester's grind, the top three second-years at Sobu High remained unchanged: first place, Chen Yao; second, Yukinoshita Yukino; third, Hayato Hayama. Yukinoshita had studied as if for university entrance, yet still trailed by ten points—not because she'd slipped, but because "that guy" had improved. Still, summer brought its own comfort; under blazing sun the streets lay hushed, the sea glittered coolly, and Japan's proud season of festivals and leisure began.
"Spend seven days on a tropical island with Koudo Ikusei students for instructional experience and pocket ¥210,000—no part-time gig beats that."
Following Horikita Manabu's instructions, Chen Yao, in T-shirt and shorts, slung a backpack stuffed with handheld games and manga over his shoulder and waited cheerfully for the tour bus.
To free up the trip, he'd pulled several all-nighters finishing two weeks' worth of manga and delivered the pages to Editor Isur—leaving him groggy but ready.
He'd wanted to bring his console too, but space ran out; a Switch alone would have to do.
Soon a van pulled up, and out stepped the Student Council secretary he'd met before—Tachibana Akane. Smiling, she said, "Good morning, Classmate Chen Yao. Right on time—please hop in; everyone else is waiting."
"You work with President Horikita, right? Isn't he coming?"
Chen Yao asked.
"No, Horikita-san has other business. I'll escort you to the rendezvous. I'm Tachibana Akane, a third-year and the council secretary."
She greeted him with a warm, approachable smile.
"Nice to meet you, Tachibana-senpai."
"Mm, so polite. Got all your clothes and toiletries?"
Akane studied the clean-cut boy. Oddly, though she'd disliked his earlier disrespect toward Horikita Manabu, hearing him call her "senpai" made him seem increasingly agreeable.
As the van rolled toward the meeting point, she wondered why the president prized him. Sure, he ranked first at a top prefectural school, starred on the baseball team, and could handle a high-speed car—fine, he was "a little" exceptional—but worth poaching this aggressively?
"…"
Clutching her folder, Akane stole glances at the boy wearing earphones, drawing inspiration from the music. The more she looked, the more distinctive he seemed—an undefinable quality, or perhaps simply a face that inspired goodwill. Daydreaming, she compared Horikita Manabu—shrewd, aloof, regal—with Chen Yao—free-spirited, eccentric yet sincere. Strange… why was she even thinking such random thoughts?