“Class C, Class C…”

  After that horrid show of an entrance ceremony, I had to run back to the ranking board to figure out what class I was placed in. Although, if I had to say, I could have guessed it right from the get-go. There’s only one class that an average guy like me can fit in, after all—the exact middle, well, upper-middle, but still middle, class among all.

  On the hallway of the first floor in Aoba’s main building, the third room counting from the entrance—class 1-C; that’s where I currently stand.

  It’s a fresh start for me. Umeno, being the brainiac he was despite the look, got himself into class B. Not that I’m surprised, either; the guy was destined for greatness after all. Even if I’m not around, I’m sure he’ll be fine.

  I slowly creak open the door and enter the classroom, where my springtime of youth awaits me.

  It looks like I’m not too late on my entrance, even after that detour to the ranking board. Perfect. Now, my seat… My seat…

  Oh. Right. I’m ranked 90th overall, meaning that I’m dead last in this class. Naturally, I’d get the seat closest to the teacher’s desk. That’s Aoba for you—the lower you rank, the more attention from the school you’ll get. Well, there’s no helping it; I’ll get to…

  “Yahoo, Tacchan!” An arm suddenly appears from behind, putting itself around my neck once more. But I’m not falling for it this time! This voice and speech pattern, I’m already used to your presence!

  Not! Damn it, why is my body still reacting?

  “Eh, Tacchan, what’s wrong?” Next to me, Michinari lets out a cheeky grin and pokes me in the cheek repeatedly. “Are you too happy to see me that you forgot to respond? Or are you at a loss for words before my flawless beauty?”

  “Haha, very funny,” I slip through his chokehold on me and answer with an awkward laugh. “But I’m quite surprised that you’re also in this class, Michinari.”

  “D’awww, I’m flattered!” Laughs the pink-haired boy. “Did you really think I’m that smart?”

  “Not really. I thought you’d be in class F.” Now it’s my turn to play the smirking villain for once.

  To which, the effeminate boy answers with a laugh of his own and scratches his head “Hehe, that’s rude. But I get that a lot.”

  “By the way, shouldn’t you get to your seat?”

  “I am at my seat though. Right here.”

  Michinari points to what is presumed to be his desk—the one right below mine, with the number 24 at its upper left corner… I know I’m last in this class, but the fact that I’m lower than this one really doesn’t sit well with me.

  Which makes me wonder: who is at the top of class C, actually?

  I take a glance at the last row of desks. If Aoba places you in reverse of your rank, then the best ones would be sitting at the end of the room. Though the seat for the number 1 spot is empty, the one right next to it is occupied.

  There sits a redhead beauty. With her long hair tied in a ponytail, the girl looks full of life, even if the rest of her body stays relatively motionless as she scribbles in her notebook while having her eyes glued to the smartphone in her remaining hand.

  Almost immediately afterwards, our eyes meet. Did she notice me looking at her, or did she just happen to look up at the right place and at the right time?

  Her razor-sharp gaze locks onto me. Wait, wait, wait! What a scary look in her eyes! Is this because I was looking at her? But I didn’t do anything, right? Why is she looking at me with those murderous eyes?

  “Yeesh, Tacchan, looks like tough luck for you, huh?” Michinari suddenly leans closer to me and whispers into my ears. As a natural reaction, I tilt my head away from him and ask in return:

  “W-What do you mean?”

  I only stuttered because I was surprised! It’s definitely not because it excited me in a bad way!

  And now why is that girl’s look even more deadly than before? It doesn’t even have to do anything with her, right?

  “Tsunagi Jouko,” Michinari once again leans towards me and continues. “Daughter of the Tokyo Hour’s Chief Editor. Has a bad hobby of snooping around for other people’s information. They say that once she’s had her eyes on you, then good luck keeping any secrets.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “I-Is that so?” I whisper in return. I never thought that I’ve done anything bad enough that the daughter of Japan’s most noteworthy newspaper is eyeing me, but…

  “I can hear both of you!” Suddenly, like a bomb being triggered in the middle of the room, the small girl shouts. Uh oh, I can practically see the veins popping out of her forehead.

  “And I’ll have you know, I’m not snooping around others!” The girl continues, ready to breathe out fire with every word she utters. “Do you know what’s the most valuable thing in the modern day?”

  “Uh… Silent is golden?”

  As soon as the words come out of my mouth, a sense of instant regret fills my every being. Michinari doesn’t say anything in response, but his constantly shifting eyes are enough to tell that I’m in serious trouble.

  Or not?...

  “Ha ha, very funny,” contrary to my worries, she doesn’t blow her top. Which in turn makes the situation even more deadly.

  “Information is golden,” she continues. “It can be an ally in need, or a knife straight to the heart. Use it well, and it never fails you. Isn’t that right, Michinari Kei-kun?”

  “Eh…” It’s the first time I’ve seen Michinari of all people stutter before a question, and I’ve only known him for almost an hour at most. It doesn’t take a genius to know that this girl has something about him that she can use against, that’s for sure.

  Meanwhile, the pink bundle of chaos tries to steer away the conversation:

  “W-Well, it’s still nice to see you again, Tsuna-chan.”

  “I take it that you two know each other then?” Seeing the way he addresses her, I ask. But immediately, my seeming stupidity gets corrected:

  “If you heard about me from him, isn’t it only natural that we knew each other?” Tsunagi glares at me with eyes sharp as a knife. “Next time, I’d like it if you stopped asking such redundant questions, Suzuki Tanaka-kun.”

  “Wait, how did you…” I sound, but before I can even finish my question, an answer has already been given:

  “Information is golden, remember? Suzuki Tanaka, 15 years old. Went to Amagami Junior High. No outstanding academics or athletic achievement. Entrance exam scores are 52, 74, 66, 77, and 51 in Japanese, Math, English, Science, and Social Studies, respectively, ranked 90th out of 180 passing applicants. In other words, average to a fault, making you completely unremarkable all around.”

  “…”

  “I can list your background as well, want me to…”

  “No, no, it’s enough.” I wave my hand to signal her to stop. Even if the scores are public, having my own results dug up like that is enough pain for a day already, let alone getting my background potentially uncovered too.

  “I’m a bit surprised though,” Michinari adds, gesturing towards me. “You’ve never shown this much interest in another person, right Tsuna-chan? Why Tacchan?”

  “... I think you’re mistaken, Michinari-kun,” Tsunagi continues after a brief pause. “I do this to everyone. And here I thought out of all people, you would be the one to know me the best.”

  “You’re overestimating our connection. We're not that close in middle school, right?”

  “Of course not, but you’re one of the few people who…”

  “O-kay! Let’s stop there!” Now it’s time for Michinari to jump forward and place his hand over Tsunagi’s mouth in a desperate attempt to stop any of his past from being leaked.

  At this moment, even though my entire body is telling me no, but the words just come out of my mouth as naturally as breathing:

  “How slippery, Unagi-chan...”

  “What did you say!?”

  Immediately, my throat is greeted with the back of her notebook, barely millimeters away from having a very “friendly” contact. A drop of cold sweat slowly drips from my temple as my mind can only imagine what would happen if the object in her hand was instead an actual knife, and she wouldn’t be so nice to stop right before it hit me.

  But of course, it’s not the day I die just yet. And no, it’s not because none of the things I just thought of are real. But rather, right before the book can make its imaginary path towards me, a hand has already shown up to block us. Well, attempt to, at least.

  “Hey, fighting isn’t good, you know!” A voice sounds. It strangely sounds familiar, like I’ve heard it somewhere before, but not the exact same one. Compared to the version in my memory, this one feels a bit lower, more mature, and yet the way the owner speaks and the content they speak all suggest otherwise.

  I turn around, only to see a familiar face. Well, kind of familiar, at least. Because while I’ve definitely seen the face, its snow-white hair, sparkly crimson eyes and lack of glasses all suggest that this person is, in fact, not the same genius that pissed me off back in the entrance ceremony.

  Instead, I’m facing his younger brother—the athletic scatterbrain.

  “Hiya, neighbors!” Kuroshi Shiraku waves his hand in glee. “Let’s have a lot of fun this year!”

  “First, we’re not neighbors.” I stand up from the seat, gesturing towards my seat at the top corner. “I’m actually over there. But nice to meet you nonetheless, uh…”

  “Oh, right,” as if realizing my predicament, the white-haired boy laughs. “Call me Shiraku! Since Nii-chan is in our school too, it’s easier to distinguish us this way.”

  “Sure. Nice to meet you, Shiraku.” Seeing his generally normal attitude helps me regain the confidence I’ve lost dealing with the two before me, and now, I’m finally being natural enough to offer a handshake like how a normal meeting between new friends should be.

  “But damn, Shira-chan.” Meanwhile, Michinari whistles with his hands behind his head. “Ranked 61st? I didn’t know you even got the brains to back up your brawns.”

  His words remind me of the current position the white-haired genius is at. If my top left seat represents the last place, then his bottom right one must be…

  “Oh, right,” Shiraku answers with an awkward laugh. “I can’t even believe it myself. But it sure was a week of hellish studying I tell you; Nii-chan basically beat me up with a pile of books…”

  A week? A week?

  I spent the entire last year of middle school to get to rank 90th! Even Umeno, who’s at rank 47th, still had to grind for a term! And you’re telling me this guy studied for a single week and got to rank 61st?

  I guess they really weren’t kidding when they decided to call those two “Monster Brothers” …

  “There you are, Kuroshi Shiraku!”

  Another booming voice interrupts my train of thoughts, and before I know it, a blurry figure of neon green dashes through the door, shoves me to the side, and points towards the genius in question:

  “Duel me, right now!”

  Why is no one in this class normal for once!?