My eyes shift behind me, towards the wall clock that’s ever so closer to the final bell. That’s the annoying part of sitting in the first row—watching for the end of the school day is never a fun or easy thing to do.

  I’ve already lost all of my enthusiasm for learning since that dreaded lottery, but school rules are still school rules. And not to mention, this is Aoba, where we study things that are way out of a regular high schooler’s league. Just one moment of hesitation, and all of a sudden you find yourself in another world.

  “Suzuki-kun! Can you answer this problem for me?” Sensei’s sound shocks me back to the unfortunate reality that I find myself in.

  “Um, yes, sir! Let me see…”

  … What the hell am I seeing here exactly?

  On the blackboard is a series of letters… but we’re studying Maths. I mean, sure, I can read most of these, but… Sine, cosine, … how many of these things are here? I’m counting more than ten already, and it’s only half the damn formula?

  Welp, looks like there’s nothing I can do. Time for the good ol’ strategy from ancient times.

  “Zero!”

  “... Correct. But next time, pay attention. I know you just guessed it randomly.”

  Dang it, he knew.

  “Yes, sir.” I bow to apologize, before sitting back down. And just in time as well, for when my behind gets to know the cool surface of my chair again, the long-awaited bell has finally rung.

  “Yeah, I’m outta here~” I push my desk and am ready to stand up again, but…

  “And where do you think you’re going, ”

  Oh, right.

  “... Sorry, Sensei.”

  “In any case, here.” After placing down my desk a pile of papers, Sensei moves towards Tsunagi and does the same—a pile of equal size for each of us. But if that’s the only thing, then I’m not so surprised; it’s the content that takes me aback.

  Each paper is a small form, on it is a big line titled “Student Council Nomination Registration Form”.

  But I don’t have to question for long, as Sensei has already started his explanations:

  “Attention class. Unlike other schools, Aoba Academy’s Student Council Election will take place during the first week of the school year, in order to focus everyone on their academic studies as much as possible. Since you’re first-years, I don’t expect a lot to already be running for the Student Council, especially when you’ve just entered school today. But, if there’s anyone that’s interested, feel free to take a form from the class representatives and sign up for the election. The deadline is tomorrow. That is all; class dismissed.”

  And just like that, we’re left with a slew of questions as Sensei’s silhouette disappears from the classroom. But in any case, I can already see where this is going. The sight of people already leaving the classroom is enough proof of that.

  It’s only natural—this is Aoba, after all. When everyone’s fighting tooth and nail to remain in this academic environment, something as time-consuming as the Student Council is hardly a matter of consideration. And not to mention, Sensei’s right—we’re first-years. We have ourselves to worry about first, before signing up for this thing. If anyone wants to be in the Student Council, it’s better to wait a while and get scouted by the upperclassmen once the election is over.

  Well, that’s thoughts at least. But my partner-by-force has other ideas.

  “Uh… Tsunagi…san, what are you doing?”

  The girl in question is already grabbing my collar.

  “You’re the boys’ rep! At least try to sound excited, will you?”

  Without another word, I’m soon dragged back to the middle of the class. Along with the action, Tsunagi shouts out to everyone:

  “Remember, class! All of your personal forms have to be filled in by tomorrow, election form included! Be sure to keep it in mind if you plan to run for President!”

  Sometimes I ask myself if she really knows this school like she claims to.

  Any normal student would avoid being involved with things like the Student Council like the plague, let alone a school with the pedigree of Aoba. Heck, we don’t even have clubs to fully focus on our studies and preserve our academic success; it would be a miracle if anyone would actually bother to sign up.

  And of course, the only natural conclusion is an unenthusiastic sound coming from everyone else in class:

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Yesssss…”

  Only once everyone’s sure to get the memo and return home do I get released.

  “You know, you could just do that by yourself.”

  “You’re assigned the job too, so at least try to act the part, will you?”

  I wouldn’t have been in this position had it not been for that damn Shiraku though, but sure.

  “Well, anyway, I’ll head…”

  “One more moment.”

  “Again with the collar?”

  “Give me your phone.”

  “What do you need my phone for?”

  “Just give it here!”

  Before I can react, Tsunagi has already taken my phone off my hand with about the same grace as a stampeding elephant. And before I can ask what she’s trying to do, she’s already given my phone back to me.

  “Here. If there’s any problem that occurs within the class, we have to make sure to contact each other.” Tsunagi concludes.

  I had expected my first time getting a girl’s number to be less… forced and violent. Oh well, it is what it is. Not like she’s treating me special or anything.

  “Hold on,” realizing a flaw in her logic, I ask. “Then shouldn’t you need my number as well?”

  “What makes you think I didn’t have your number already?”

  Right. Never mind that.

  “Well, now there’s officially nothing left. You can go home now.” Tsunagi concludes with a wave… oh wait, my bad, a of goodbye, like getting rid of a pest. Not like I ever wanted to stay close to her anyway.

  And besides, I have other places that I should be in. Not exactly “home” though. My destination is, in fact, somewhere else, and it starts with a message to a certain friend.

  [Yo, Umeno. Same place?]

  I quickly press the letters on CURVE—the main social medium among students—and hit send. Knowing his tendencies around new places, I should get my answer soon enough, so there’s no need for me to hurry.

  Or at least, that’s what I expected. But it’s been ten minutes already, and there’s no answer. In fact, there’s not even a —Umeno has basically been offline for the whole day.

  “What gives?” I mumble. Normally, the guy chokes up in front of a crowd so much he tries to retreat back to familiar friends (so basically just me) within minutes… is he finally breaking out of his shell? After all this time?

  I’m not sure what to feel, actually. On one hand, I’m glad—Umeno’s a good person, but his aversion to people makes him unapproachable for a lot of them. Him getting rid of that bad status is certainly a good thing, but…

  If that’s the case, I’ll probably miss the guy a bit. We’re already in different classes, so there won’t be a lot of times we can hang out like in junior high.

  “Yahoo! Tacchan, whatcha’ doing? Is that a message I see? Your girlfriend, perhaps? Or boyfriend, I don’t judge… Oh, but don’t go flirting with me though, teehee!”

  It looks like I won’t be bored on my end, at least. But damn it, why is he always so strong?

  “Are you somehow an athlete, Michinari?” I try to shake myself off the pink bundle of chaos’s grip, only to no avail.

  “Nah, this is nothing,” still wearing the both-gender-killer smile he had before, Michinari answers with glee. “I’ve seen monsters with much more strength.”

  At least he’s not lying on that front. In fact, I just experienced one of those monsters right before dealing with him.

  “Tsuna-chan, I assume?”

  “You know it.”

  “Well, anyway, whatcha plan on doing?”

  “Oh…” On second thought, if Umeno’s actually in his popular phase, then I’m basically free for the day, huh? With all that’s said, Michinari one of the few that I managed to get close to after my first day, so why not?

  “I’m heading towards that one really popular sweets shop. Wanna come with?” I ask.

  “You mean Do I? That place is always so packed people say you have to make a reservation days in advance!”

  “I got my ways,” flashing a confident smirk, I answer. “So?”

  “Count me in!” With eyes sparkling like frosted sugar on a parfait, Michinari nods at a frequency that would nearly break the neck of a normal person.

  And just like that, now I have a “date”. Well, not that kind of date, of course, but unfortunately, looking at the two of us going together, people are bound to get the wrong idea. Normal people, at least.

  The good news for us is that there are no normal people around Aoba. The bad news is, that doesn’t let us escape the eyes of another person.

  When Michinari closes the classroom door while I head towards the staircase, our eyes cross. Highlighting our uniforms with the crimson shine of the setting sun, even if our paths have already crossed, this is the first time I’m seeing this renowned genius up close.

  His eyes are dark as night, yet shining like stars. Hidden behind those diamond-like glasses, what are they scheming, I wonder? And yet, there’s this almost… magnetic attraction that he exudes, that makes you admire and loathe at the same time. That, combined with his only average height, means that he’s exuding charisma, enough for the average person to be unable to resist looking up towards him…

  Oh wait, never mind, that’s just the stairs since he’s going down.

  “Do I have something on my face?” The black-haired genius sounds in the same high-pitched (compared to a boy’s) voice that I’ve heard.

  “No,” I shake my head. “I’m just… mad, that’s all.”

  “Oh, really? How come?”

  To be honest, a day is enough for me to forget the incident, but right now, it’s the only excuse I have.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot the incident in the morning?”

  “In the morning… Oh, you’re that guy I bumped into!” Snapping his fingers, he exclaims. “What’s your name?”

  “Suzuki Tanaka.”

  “Tanaka, then. My bad.” The black-haired boy lets out a friendly smile and raises his hand towards me, offering a shake to make up for everything.

  Perhaps he’s not as bad as I pictured him to be.

  Or at least, that’s what he me to think. But I know better not to poke the fire anthill with my finger.

  So, I raise my hand forward, looking to accept the gesture.

  “… Faker.”

  Wait, why did I say that? What’s wrong with me? I mean, sure, that is the most pretentious smile I’ve ever seen from someone, but even I have enough tact to know that you should never, ever blurt out something like that! What happens to knowing not to poke the anthill by the finger?

  Ryuuro pauses for a moment. Surely he’s fuming right now. After all, for a genius that only appears once in a generation, being insulted like this must be a first for him.

  Contrary to my expectations, however, the boy laughs. A loud, hearty laugh, truly refreshed and unreserved, as if he’s finally freed from all the things that were holding him back.

  “We all have sides that we have to keep up, Tanaka,” Ryuuro’s joyous laugh turns into a chilling grin as we return handshakes. “But I’m looking forward to seeing you again, whether as friends or rivals.”

  Before I can make a comeback, however, the guy has already disappeared from the scenes, as if vaporized into thin air. At the same time, Michinari’s voice calls out to me from behind:

  “Oi, Tacchan! Whatcha standing there for? Saw someone familiar?”

  “Uh… not really,” I shake my head. “Just a lunatic, I guess.”

  I have no idea what those words Ryuuro said before meant, nor why he’s calling me a rival all of a sudden. But for now, at least I can conclude that I don’t wanna cross paths with him in the near future.