"Class is finally starting..."
Kitahara breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Half an hour ago, after discovering that the girl sitting behind him, Sakiko, sounded distressed but was secretly snickering behind his back, Kitahara decisively refused to help.
Getting chalk dust in her eye, yet still able to laugh?
She was blatantly faking it!
When things are abnormal, there is bound to be a hidden motive.
Although he did not know what the girl behind him was scheming, steering clear was certainly the safer choice.
Fortunately, after Kitahara returned from taking out the trash, other classmates had already arrived in the classroom; Sakiko read her book quietly, with no further little tricks at last.
"Strange... What exactly is Togawa-san doing?"
Doubts filled Kitahara's mind, completely baffling him.
"We clearly had zero interaction before, so why did she suddenly become so proactive... Surely she couldn't be after my body, could she?"
The moment the thought popped up, Kitahara shook his head and dismissed it.
The three great illusions of life: my phone is vibrating, I can turn the tables and win, and she likes me.
A super beauty actively courting him?
That sort of thing only happens in light novels and manga...
Kitahara possessed self-awareness and didn't believe he had the exaggerated magnetism of an incubus, so it was definitely just one of life's illusions.
Click-clack, click-clack.
The crisp clatter of high heels drifted from the hallway, and a vigorous, efficient middle-aged female teacher stepped into the classroom shortly after:
"Before class starts today, let us first welcome a transfer student... Come on in."
As her words fell, an exquisitely lovely, doll-like girl strode into the classroom.
The girl had waist-length pale green hair, striking golden eyes, porcelain-white skin like fine mutton-fat jade, and an adorably flawless face, instantly provoking a wave of marvel.
"The transfer student is super cute!"
"I wonder if she's seeing someone?"
"Mom, I'm in love!"
"Hold on, she looks kind of familiar... Isn't she the daughter of that celebrity couple?"
"..."
Chatter erupted beneath the podium, with everyone's gazes fixed upon the incoming transfer student, and Kitahara was naturally no exception.
Yet whether it was his imagination or not, Kitahara felt that ever since she walked into the classroom, her gaze had been staring straight at him.
"Don't overthink it... She couldn't possibly have transferred here just for me, right?"
Kitahara consoled himself internally.
The commotion subsided quickly.
Resting her hands demurely over her lower abdomen with elegant poise, Mutsumi began her self-introduction:
"I am Wakaba Mutsumi. My favorite fruit is cucumber. It is a pleasure to meet you; please take good care of me from now on..."
Although the transfer student girl was deadpan, her voice was undeniably clear and melodious, like pearls tumbling onto a jade plate.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, she really is the daughter of that celebrity couple!"
"Inherited the genes of a famous actress—no wonder she's beyond cute!"
"Shouldn't she be attending an elite young ladies' academy? Why transfer here out of nowhere?"
"By the way, I'm more hung up on the fact that cucumbers aren't even fruits, aren't they?"
"Don't sweat the small stuff; banana plants are giant herbs, while chili peppers are technically woody shrubs."
"..."
The murmurs continued beneath the podium, but right after, Mutsumi silenced everyone in the room with a single sentence:
"The reason I transferred here is to capture the heart of the boy I love."
"..."
The air snapped completely still.
You could have heard a pin drop in the classroom.
Regardless of whether they were boys or girls, everyone stared in utter shock at the transfer student standing at the podium.
While dating wasn't forbidden for high schoolers in Japan, transferring schools entirely for the sake of the boy you loved was absurd no matter how one looked at it!
"Eeeh?!"
After an indeterminate pause, an outcry finally broke out.
"Damn it, Mutsumi-san already has a boy she likes?!"
"Just how exceptional is this boy to make Mutsumi-san chase after him so boldly?"
"Could that boy actually be in our class?"
"..."
"Quiet!"
The female teacher rapped her knuckles against the desk twice, swiftly hushing the gossip-hungry students, before turning toward Mutsumi:
"Mutsumi-san, there's still an empty desk in the back row; why don't you sit there for now?"
Mutsumi asked expressionlessly:
"Sensei, may I switch seats with someone else?"
"No problem," the female teacher nudged the spectacles on the bridge of her nose, "provided the other party agrees to swap seats with you."
"Thank you, Sensei."
Holding her schoolbag with both hands, Mutsumi strode toward the back of the classroom in full view of the entire class.
Staaare—
As she walked down the aisle, Mutsumi made no effort to conceal her gaze, staring at Kitahara the entire time.
"Huh, Mutsumi-san seems to be looking right at Kitahara-kun."
"Could the boy she likes be Kitahara-kun?"
"Quite likely; Kitahara-kun really is very outstanding after all."
"..."
The spectating girls gossiped back and forth, their gazes bouncing between Kitahara and Mutsumi.
Wait, why do you keep staring at me?
A drop of cold sweat dripped from Kitahara's brow; feeling like a chimpanzee on display at the zoo, he was thoroughly uncomfortable all over.
We don't even know each other, okay?
Kitahara searched through his memories repeatedly, but found no trace of Mutsumi whatsoever.
Yet whether judging by Mutsumi's gaze or the path she took, her target seemed undeniably to be him...
Upon reaching Kitahara's side, the girl came to a sudden halt.
"Excuse me, classmate..."
Mutsumi turned her head toward the bespectacled youth sitting next to Kitahara.
"M-Mutsumi-san, is something the matter?"
Flattered and thrilled out of his wits, the bespectacled youth stammered in excitement.
Mutsumi stated expressionlessly:
"Could you give up your seat to me?"
"..."
The joyful smile on the bespectacled boy's face froze solid, his entire soul seemingly burning to ash speck by speck.
The other person whose expression froze was Kitahara.
What did asking for someone else's seat mean?
Could she possibly want to be his desk neighbor?
Mutsumi said calmly:
"I can pay..."
"N-No need..."
Dejected and despondent, the bespectacled youth picked up his desk and shuffled off to the corner in defeat.
"Thank you."
Mutsumi offered a soft thank-you, completely ignoring the curious stares of the onlookers as she moved the empty desk over, pushing it flush against Kitahara's desk right in front of everyone.
Boom!
The classroom erupted into an instant uproar.
"Mutsumi-san and Kitahara-kun are sitting together?!"
"Confirmed! The boy Mutsumi-san likes is Kitahara-kun!"
"Curse it, I want a cute girl transferring in to sit next to me too!"
"..."
Crap! She really is aiming for me!
Kitahara felt a throbbing headache coming on.
He only wanted to attend school peacefully, with zero desire to become the subject of everyone's gossip.
More importantly, he didn't know her at all, alright?
"Makoto-kun, I didn't bring my textbook," Mutsumi's eyes sparkled as she peered over; if she had resembled an emotionless doll girl just moments ago, she was now lively and animated, "Could you share half your textbook with me?"
"..."
Silently sliding the textbook between them, Kitahara couldn't suppress the confusion in his heart, keeping his voice low:
"We don't know each other, do we?"
Mutsumi's eyes shone bright, making no attempt to conceal her affection:
"Now we do."
"How do you know my name?" Kitahara frowned. "And isn't addressing me that way a bit too intimate?"
"Mmh..." Mutsumi tilted her head slightly, pointing a finger behind Kitahara. "I grew up together with Sakiko and often heard her mention Makoto-kun, so I've known about Makoto-kun for a long time."
Sakiko: "..."
Silly Mutsumi, don't use me as your excuse!
Although Kitahara had a bellyful of questions he wanted to ask, class was underway and the teacher had already cast warning glares his way multiple times, forcing him to stifle his questions and listen obediently.
Before long, the bell rang for the end of class.
As the chime faded, before Kitahara could even part his lips, Mutsumi was swarmed and encircled by a mob of gossip-hungry girls.
Kitahara couldn't withstand the frenzied fervor of the crowd, using a bathroom break as an excuse to slip away.
Lunch break.
The excitement of the onlookers finally subsided, and Sakiko seized the chance to whisk Mutsumi away to the cafeteria.
"Mutsumi, why did you transfer here all of a sudden?"
Sakiko couldn't resist asking.
"I missed Makoto-kun," Mutsumi answered with total justification. "So I transferred over."
Sakiko rubbed her forehead: "Why didn't you talk it over with us first?"
"Whether you agreed or not, I would have transferred over anyway," Mutsumi replied without batting an eye. "I want to see Makoto-kun every day, and I refused to make my entrance so late."
Sakiko: "..."
Since she had already transferred, sending Mutsumi back was out of the question; Sakiko could only say:
"Let's go eat at the cafeteria first; we can talk while we eat."
Mutsumi took out her phone, preparing to text:
"I want to eat with Makoto-kun."
"Don't," Sakiko hastily held her back. "You haven't even swapped contact information with Kitahara-kun yet; texting him out of the blue will only backfire and make Makoto-kun avoid us."
"Why would Makoto-kun avoid us?"
Mutsumi tilted her head in bewilderment.
"Because Mutsumi was far too intense, of course," Sakiko couldn't help calling her out. "Confessing publicly right on the podium—how could that be anything but absurd?"
"..."
Chatting as they walked, the two girls reached the cafeteria.
Over lunch, Sakiko pulled out her phone and shared the news of Mutsumi's transfer with everyone.
Though surprised, none of the girls were particularly shocked.
If reality were a galgame, everyone's affection meters had already been maxed out by Kitahara—overflowing, even—so wanting to stay by his side was only natural.
"'A faint rumble of thunder, clouded skies, in hopes that the rain will fall...'"
During the final period before dismissal, the Japanese classics teacher stood at the podium lecturing on poetry from the Man'yōshū, his unhurried, droning voice making everyone drowsy.
Gazing out the window, Kitahara saw a gloomy sky heavy with dark clouds, punctuated by occasional low rumbles of thunder, matching the textbook passage quite nicely.
Right at dismissal, a light drizzle began pattering down.
Kitahara gathered his supplies in silence to start sweeping the classroom.
"Sakiko, go work customer service," Mutsumi balled her right hand into a fist. "I'll help sweep up."
"No need, I'll do it myself," Sakiko crossed her arms over her chest. "I quit the customer service job yesterday."
"Eh, what a pity..."
"It's not a pity at all, okay!"
"..."
Before life restarted, Sakiko had naturally planned ahead.
Put simply, she had memorized various quick-cash schemes: lottery numbers, winning scratch-off batches, horse race outcomes, and the like. By exploiting these cheats, she acquired a sizable fortune in just a few days, naturally ditching the customer service job and swiftly moving into a new apartment.
As for her deadbeat father... letting him lie around rotting in that rental was fine; a grown adult with functioning limbs wouldn't starve himself to death.
"Sakiko can clean, then," Mutsumi's eyes shifted, seemingly thinking of something as her tone suddenly grew light and brisk. "I'm heading out for a bit."
"..."
The classroom was tidied up before long.
Kitahara grabbed his schoolbag and went downstairs, preparing to head home.
Yet the moment he reached the ground-floor entrance hall, he was left utterly speechless.
"...Who took my umbrella?"
Kitahara remembered vividly bringing an umbrella this morning, but the stand was completely empty; someone had clearly walked off with it.
At the corner of the first-floor staircase, Sakiko stopped upon hearing the commotion, looking exasperatedly at Mutsumi beside her:
"Mutsumi, did you sneak away Makoto-kun's umbrella just now?"
"Not me," Mutsumi shook her head. "I wanted to take Makoto-kun's umbrella, but by the time I came downstairs, the umbrella was already gone."
Sakiko: "..."
Mutsumi wouldn't lie about this sort of thing.
In other words, someone else had the exact same idea as Mutsumi and nabbed Kitahara-kun's umbrella ahead of time...
Staring at the light drizzle outside the school building, just as Kitahara was feeling helpless, a clear, sweet voice rang out beside his ear:
"Kitahara-san, what a coincidence."
Turning toward the sound, Kitahara saw a pink-haired girl walking briskly toward him—the very girl who had tripped in front of him yesterday.
"Chihaya-san."
Kitahara greeted her politely.
Anon puffed her cheeks slightly, mumbling under her breath:
"Call me Anon-chan."
"What?"
"Ah, nothing."
Anon tilted her face up, peering over with a radiant smile:
"Kitahara-san has been standing by the entrance without leaving; did you forget your umbrella?"
Kitahara answered helplessly: "Someone walked off with my umbrella."
"Someone must have grabbed it by mistake," Anon quickly pulled an umbrella from her bag, looking over expectantly. "Are you heading toward the train station, Kitahara-san?"
"Yes."
"Oh, what a coincidence! I'm heading to the station too. Shall we share an umbrella on the way?"
"..."
"How unfair, I was clearly first," Mutsumi puffed her cheeks. "Anon definitely hid the umbrella."
"Um..."
A timid voice spoke up from behind the two, and Kita raised a small hand:
"I was the one who hid the umbrella."
"..."
Kitahara hesitated for two seconds, shaking his head in refusal:
"Never mind, I'll wait a bit longer; I wouldn't want to trouble Chihaya-san."
Only couples in very close relationships shared umbrellas on campus; if someone saw them, it would inevitably spark rumors behind his back.
"Don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Anon insisted hastily. "The forecast says the rain won't stop until ten tonight; Kitahara-san can't possibly wait that long, right?"
"Let's go, let's go~"
Anon quickly snapped the umbrella open, giving Kitahara a gentle nudge forward:
"Hurry up and head home!"