Chapter 3: The First Battle (And Kenji Has No Idea He’s in It!)

  Scene 1: Kenji’s New Empire (That He Doesn’t Want)

  I stepped into homeroom the next morning cautiously, hoping beyond all reason that yesterday's chaos had somehow faded into a distant, forgettable memory. It was a foolish hope, admittedly. Reality struck hard as every pair of delinquent eyes locked onto me instantly, their chairs scraping the floor as they stood to attention.

  "Good morning, Boss!" they chorused in unison.

  I froze in the doorway, hand gripping the strap of my backpack tightly enough to turn my knuckles white. A shudder ran through me as their greeting echoed ominously off the classroom walls. Why does this suddenly feel like I'm starring in a mafia movie?

  My mind raced, desperate for an exit strategy. Before I could inch backward toward the hall, Tetsuya Nakamura stepped forward. Towering and formidable as always, he gestured grandly to a desk at the back of the room—the "seat of honor," apparently.

  "Boss, your seat is ready," he said reverently. "It has the best view."

  I stared blankly at the carefully arranged chair, placed on a slight riser, looking absurdly like a throne. My face burned with embarrassment and panic. "I—I don't need a special seat!" I stammered, waving my hands frantically.

  But the delinquents merely nodded solemnly among themselves, deeply moved. "Such humility!" one whispered admiringly.

  "A true leader is humble," another agreed, eyes gleaming with respect.

  My stomach twisted painfully. Someone, please, end this.

  From across the room, I noticed Reina Kisaragi's gaze fixed coldly upon me, her notebook already open, pen poised like a weapon. She looked like she'd just discovered a crime scene. She adjusted her glasses sharply, mouth tight with righteous fury.

  "I refuse," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "to let this school fall into criminal hands."

  Her voice sent chills down my spine, and she scribbled furiously in her notebook. I squinted, catching just enough of the text to see "Plan to Reform Kenji Fujimura – Phase 1" written in bold letters. A shiver crawled up my neck. What exactly does 'reform' entail?

  "Boss," Tetsuya interrupted my terrified thoughts, gently but firmly guiding me toward the elevated seat. "You shouldn't tire yourself with trivial issues. Allow us to deal with any disrespectful individuals."

  "No! Really, that's not necessary," I protested weakly.

  "See?" another delinquent remarked, shaking his head with awe. "Such mercy, even to his rivals."

  I sank helplessly into my "throne," feeling my face flush hotly. This can't possibly get any worse.

  And that's when Akari Tachibana leaned casually onto my desk, her dark eyes sparkling with barely-contained amusement. Her soft perfume drifted toward me, adding to my rapidly mounting stress.

  "Enjoying your new kingdom, Sakamoto?" she asked with a mocking smile.

  I shot upright, my frustration boiling over. "For the last time, I am NOT—"

  "Silence!" Tetsuya barked, his powerful voice cutting through my outburst like a blade. "The boss is speaking!"

  The room fell into instant silence, everyone’s eyes wide with anticipation. Even Reina paused her furious scribbling to watch with startled fascination.

  I slumped back into my chair in defeat, rubbing my temples. I’m trapped. Totally, irreversibly trapped.

  With a resigned sigh, I looked out at the classroom. Every face gazed back, earnest and waiting for guidance I couldn’t possibly provide. Reina glared daggers of suspicion at me. Akari's expression flickered with wicked delight, clearly entertained by my misery.

  In the span of twenty-four hours, my peaceful high school life had completely evaporated. Instead, I had somehow become the unwilling emperor of chaos, reigning over a kingdom I neither wanted nor understood.

  As Tetsuya nodded approvingly, Reina scribbled angrily, and Akari grinned mischievously, one thought rang in my head with crystal clarity:

  I’m doomed.

  Scene 2: The Other Gangs React

  At lunchtime, in a neglected, shadowed corner behind Fujihama High, Hikaru Ishida paced restlessly in front of his gathered followers. The isolated spot was littered with cigarette butts, crushed soda cans, and graffiti-scarred walls—a fitting backdrop for conspiracies and rebellion.

  "I can't believe this!" Ishida growled, kicking an empty can so hard it bounced noisily against the concrete wall. "We let Nakamura run things because he earned our respect. But this 'Sakamoto' guy? I don't buy it."

  Murmurs of agreement rippled among the assembled delinquents. Their eyes darted anxiously, clearly rattled by recent events, yet unsure how to voice their doubts aloud.

  Goro Saeki, towering over most but never known for his sharpness, rubbed his thick neck, eyebrows furrowing deeply. "But Ishida-san, they say this Sakamoto beat Nakamura without even throwing a punch. Some people saw it happen."

  Ishida spun on his heel to glare fiercely at Goro, the intensity making his friend flinch. "That's ridiculous," he spat, voice dripping disdain. "No one's that strong. You really think Nakamura would lose to a handshake?"

  Goro scratched his head slowly, genuinely puzzled. "Well... it’s what everyone’s sayin’."

  Ishida let out an exasperated sigh, massaging his temples. He turned back to the rest of the group, clenching his fists with determination. "Look, this is about pride. If we let some nobody just walk in and take control without earning it, how long before every gang in the city thinks we're weak? We’ve got to show everyone this Sakamoto guy is a fraud."

  A tense silence descended over the group as Ishida's words sank in. A few shifted nervously, clearly conflicted about openly opposing someone with such a fearsome reputation, no matter how questionable the rumors might seem.

  Goro, as always, was the first to break the silence, his expression brightening as if he'd stumbled onto a brilliant idea. "So we're gonna ambush him, right? Teach him a lesson?"

  Ishida shot him a sharp glance. "Ambush? Are you joking? If we do something cowardly like that, we’ll look even worse!"

  Goro’s hopeful expression deflated instantly, replaced by confusion. "So... then what?"

  "We confront him directly," Ishida declared, his voice rising with conviction. "In public. Right in front of everyone. That way, no one can deny he's a fraud when he crumbles."

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  The assembled delinquents nodded slowly, reassured by Ishida’s unwavering confidence. A few even started murmuring excitedly, galvanized by the promise of action.

  Ishida crossed his arms, smirking confidently now, already envisioning his easy victory. "Tomorrow, right after school, we're going to settle this. I'll challenge him personally, right in the open. We’ll see if this 'King of Fujihama High' is anything more than a joke."

  Goro nodded enthusiastically, slamming his fist into his open palm. "Yeah! There's no way he can dodge you with some handshake trick!"

  The group erupted into rough laughter, spirits buoyed by the thought of their imminent victory. Ishida’s smirk widened into a satisfied grin as he looked out over his followers, his chest swelling with pride. This was his chance—he’d prove to everyone that he, Hikaru Ishida, was the true king of the delinquents.

  But deep inside, hidden beneath his confident facade, a tiny sliver of doubt gnawed quietly at the edge of Ishida’s mind. No matter how absurd it sounded, there was something unnerving about someone who could supposedly beat Nakamura without even trying.

  He shook off the thought angrily, dismissing it as nothing more than silly superstition. After all, no one was invincible—certainly not some transfer student who just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

  "Spread the word," Ishida said finally, voice strong and assured. "Tomorrow, the king falls."

  And as cheers and confident laughter echoed around him, Ishida glanced toward the distant school building, eyes hardening with fierce anticipation.

  We'll see just how tough you really are, Kenji Sakamoto.

  Scene 3: The Ambush (And Kenji Accidentally Wins Again)

  When the final bell rang, I let out a sigh of relief. Somehow, despite every absurd twist of fate, I'd survived another day at Fujihama High. All I wanted now was to go home, forget everything that had happened, and pretend, at least for a little while, that I was still a completely ordinary student.

  Walking toward the rear exit—the one fewer students used—I felt a faint sense of calm finally returning. Maybe if I kept using this less-traveled route, I'd manage to avoid any more catastrophic misunderstandings.

  Just as my heartbeat started to slow, shadows moved abruptly at the corner of my vision. Before I had time to react, five students stepped out from behind the faded brick wall, fanning out to surround me completely. I stopped dead, heart immediately racing again.

  Oh no. Not again.

  Hikaru Ishida stepped forward from among them, a cold smirk twisting his lips. He cracked his knuckles dramatically, clearly enjoying the theatrics. "Sakamoto," he growled, each syllable dripping with contempt. "It's time to prove you're as tough as everyone says."

  I stared blankly at him. "Prove...? Prove what?"

  "That you're a fraud," Ishida snapped, eyes narrowing with fierce determination. He lunged at me without further warning, fist swinging toward my face.

  Panic surged through me, and I tried to step back—but instead of moving gracefully out of harm's way, my foot caught clumsily on a loose brick. With a startled cry, I pitched forward wildly, arms flailing uncontrollably as I fought to keep my balance.

  Ishida's punch flew harmlessly past my head, his eyes widening in stunned disbelief. "What—?"

  Before I could comprehend what happened, a large pair of hands reached out from my left—Goro, Ishida's towering right-hand man, attempted to grab hold of me. Instinctively, I twisted in panic, my elbow jerking upward in an awkward, uncontrolled motion.

  It connected solidly—far more solidly than intended—with Goro's nose. He let out a strangled yelp and stumbled backward, colliding heavily into two others behind him. All three collapsed into a messy heap of tangled limbs, groaning loudly.

  "I-I’m sorry!" I stammered, eyes squeezed shut in horror. "I didn't mean—I swear!"

  Around me, voices rose in frantic confusion. Someone else tried to seize me from behind, but my knee buckled at that precise moment, sending me sprawling sideways. My shoulder collided accidentally with another attacker, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling to the ground with a muffled curse.

  Through sheer panic and clumsy reflex, I somehow ended up upright again, blinking around in confusion. "Wait—wait! I haven't even done anything!"

  Ishida stared around in frozen horror, his jaw slack. All four of his companions lay scattered around us, groaning weakly. His fierce bravado dissolved into uncertainty, his wide eyes locked onto mine in disbelief.

  "Impossible," he whispered shakily. "No one's reaction speed is that insane!"

  "I wasn't even—" I began desperately, waving my hands frantically to explain, but a familiar, powerful voice cut me off sharply from behind.

  "Hmph. A pathetic challenge."

  I spun around to find Tetsuya Nakamura standing behind me, arms crossed confidently, eyes filled with cold disdain as he took in the chaotic scene. He gave me a respectful nod, completely misreading the situation.

  "Boss, are you unharmed?" he asked solemnly.

  I opened my mouth helplessly, unable to form coherent words. "I—uh—what just—?"

  Ishida suddenly dropped to one knee, his head bowed humbly. His voice trembled with forced respect. "I acknowledge your strength, Sakamoto."

  My mind spun wildly, reality spiraling further and further from my grasp. "Wait—no! Hold on a second! I didn't fight! I didn’t do anything!"

  But no one seemed to hear me. Tetsuya placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, nodding with proud solemnity. Ishida remained kneeling, head lowered in defeat. Around us, whispers and murmurs grew louder as a crowd gathered from around the corner, witnessing the aftermath.

  "Did you see that? He took them all down without even trying!"

  "He's unstoppable!"

  My shoulders sagged as dread settled heavily over me. This misunderstanding was officially beyond repair. I looked desperately to the heavens, silently begging for intervention—any intervention.

  But there was only silence and the bright, indifferent afternoon sun.

  "I... I'm doomed," I muttered softly, defeated. And as I stood helplessly amidst the aftermath of a fight I'd never meant to have, the legend of Kenji Sakamoto—the unbeatable delinquent king—continued to grow wildly out of control.

  Scene 4: Reina Declares War on Kenji

  The following morning arrived far too quickly. My night had been plagued by anxious dreams—visions of me endlessly stumbling into accidental victories, chased by delinquents, while being scolded mercilessly by the ever-watchful Reina Kisaragi. As I trudged wearily into the classroom, all I wanted was a day—a single, blissful day—of peace and anonymity.

  Unfortunately, my reputation had other plans.

  I'd barely sunk into my chair when Reina's palms slammed down onto my desk with a resounding bang. Pencils jumped, and my half-awake brain jerked into panicked alertness. The entire class immediately went silent, dozens of eager eyes swiveling toward us, hungry for drama.

  I blinked up at Reina's glaring face. Her usually calm, controlled expression was now fiercely determined, glasses glinting like the edge of a sharpened blade. "I refuse," she began loudly, her voice trembling slightly with barely contained outrage, "to let this school turn into a Yakuza training ground."

  I stared at her, wide-eyed, desperation overriding my sense of dignity. "I AGREE!" I blurted out frantically. "PLEASE HELP ME!"

  Confused murmurs erupted across the room as students exchanged bewildered glances. Reina, however, remained completely unmoved by my plea. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, fingers pressing against my desk with white-knuckled intensity.

  "You might think you can fool everyone else, Kenji Fujimura," she said icily, leaning closer, her voice dropping ominously, "but I see through your innocent act. Starting today, I'm going to fix you."

  I swallowed audibly, my heart plunging into my stomach. Her words felt ominous, terrifyingly final. "Fix me?" I stammered weakly, dread filling every syllable. "What... what exactly does that mean?"

  Her eyes flashed, the slightest smile curving her lips—a smile filled with grim satisfaction, like she'd just cornered her prey. "You're joining the student council."

  A stunned silence spread through the room, thick and oppressive. My mind spiraled wildly, suddenly aware of the dozens of eyes glued to this scene, each one gleaming with morbid curiosity.

  Internally, I screamed. Student council?! I'm already dealing with accidental criminal empires and now student politics too?!

  Outwardly, all I could manage was a weak, defeated whisper. "...I'm doomed."

  Reina straightened triumphantly, her eyes glittering with determination. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other."

  "I don't think you understand anything at all!" I protested weakly, but she had already turned away, scribbling furiously in her notebook, presumably plotting the complete overhaul of my entire existence.

  Around me, whispers intensified.

  "Did you hear that? He's joining the student council!"

  "This is getting better every day!"

  "Poor Kenji... Reina's going to eat him alive!"

  I sank even deeper into my chair, pressing my palms to my face in utter despair. Across the room, Akari chuckled softly, watching the entire scene unfold with unconcealed amusement. Tetsuya stood near the back, arms crossed proudly, clearly mistaking my distress for some kind of strategic brilliance.

  I sighed, head sinking onto my desk with a dull thud. There was no escape. Every effort I made to prove my innocence somehow solidified my accidental legend even further. Delinquents saw me as a king, Reina saw me as a threat, and now the student council had become yet another battlefront in the war I never meant to wage.

  As homeroom finally began, I closed my eyes and prayed desperately for salvation, for some miraculous end to this spiral of misunderstandings.

  But deep down, I knew better.

  I'm trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.

  And with Reina now fully committed to my "reform," things were undoubtedly about to get much, much worse.