As one group of passengers got off and another boarded at Beika Station, the train filled with new faces. The intimidating presence Tetsu Moroha had shown earlier was no longer known to the newcomers.
Murakami Kenzo was a delinquent high schooler who liked dyeing his hair green.
Calling him a high school student was almost flattering. It was obvious that after graduation he would become a street thug wandering through alleys.
He would probably intimidate and extort his former underclassmen, and if he got lucky, he might even join some gang and become a yakuza.
For now, he was already somewhat famous among delinquents, his most distinctive feature being his bright green hair.
Murakami Kenzo boarded from another door and forced his way through the crowd with brute strength until he reached the handrail near the door opposite where Tetsu Moroha stood.
Looking back at the middle-aged office workers he had shoved aside—faces dark with anger yet silent—he smirked with satisfaction at the open space around him.
Even he could bully these corporate slaves. It made him laugh that his classmates still worked so hard at school hoping to find jobs.
In the end, they would just become people he could push around anyway.
Feeling pleased with himself, his gaze shifted to the side.
Tetsu Moroha and Koji Shimizu stood facing each other with about two people's worth of space between them.
She hadn't driven Koji Shimizu away. Compared to anyone else, his self-aware presence made for a useful human shield.
That was only part of the reason, of course. The main reason was that they were at least acquaintances.
Whoa! Jackpot! An absolute beauty!
When Murakami turned his head and saw Tetsu Moroha tucked into the corner by the train door, a greedy light flashed in his eyes.
He stood nearly 190 centimeters tall, which was part of why he had made a name for himself among delinquents.
So he paid no attention to Koji Shimizu, who was about 180 centimeters tall and looked somewhat slender.
Besides, Koji Shimizu and Tetsu Moroha didn't look like a couple.
And even if they were, it wouldn't matter. Murakami ignored him completely.
Right now, he only saw Tetsu Moroha.
Her fitted black-and-white dress, the bamboo sword in her arms, and her elegant, gentle aura made her look like a model student.
The beautiful girl resting with her eyes closed seemed like a helpless lamb on the train.
And she practiced kendo too—exciting.
Murakami had watched stories about train molesters countless times and had tried such things himself. But today, he felt like being even bolder.
Compared to confident office women, a younger student like this would be easier to bully. Girls like that rarely spoke up—just like in the anime he watched.
Swallowing, he pretended to be pushed by the crowd and gradually moved closer.
The distance was less than two meters.
"Kid, block for me."
Hearing the fierce whisper beside him, Koji Shimizu thought for a moment he had imagined it.
But when he saw the green-haired man squeezing in beside him, staring lustfully at Tetsu Moroha and glaring viciously back at him, he realized he had heard correctly.
Koji Shimizu's eyes shifted slightly as he glanced at Murakami's swollen, dark eye bags. Without saying anything, he quietly leaned back a little.
That counted as blocking for him… more or less.
Almost at the same instant—
Crack!
A sharp and painful sound rang out as upper and lower teeth collided violently.
Even in the cramped space, the hilt of Tetsu Moroha's bamboo sword struck forward like a heavy iron rod, slamming into Murakami Kenzo's jaw.
Koji Shimizu suspected that a good portion of the delinquent's yellow teeth had shattered from that single blow.
Immediately afterward, the bamboo sword's hilt swung again like a wooden mallet, delivering a dull, heavy "slap" across Murakami's face.
In less than three seconds, Murakami—who had forced his way toward her—was struck dizzy and unconscious before he could even act.
That last "slap" knocked him stiffly to the side.
Yet the coldness in Tetsu Moroha's eyes did not fade. The tip of her bamboo sword pointed directly at the fallen boy.
In a flash of motion, the blade suddenly stopped less than three inches above his eye.
"You're not afraid of killing him?"
Koji Shimizu sounded puzzled, even slightly serious.
He didn't care whether the man lived or died, but he hadn't expected Tetsu Moroha to act so decisively and ruthlessly.
This girl was a bit too extreme—especially for a first-year student.
Tetsu Moroha glanced at Koji Shimizu, who had remained silent earlier.
Her gaze moved from his face down along his arm until it stopped at the hand gripping her bamboo sword.
She applied force.
It didn't move at all.
Frowning slightly, she slowly tried to withdraw the sword. This time, Koji Shimizu relaxed his grip.
But the moment he did, she suddenly thrust forward again—only to be restrained instantly once more.
"He's a notorious delinquent."
Glancing at Murakami's green hair, she gave a cold explanation before sheathing the sword and returning to her calm posture.
But her eyes stayed fixed on Koji Shimizu.
Koji Shimizu's expression remained as calm as still water as he met her gaze without concern.
"I only stepped in because we know each other. I didn't want to end up going to the police station as a witness to a murder scene."
He spoke casually, slipping his hands back into his pockets. He didn't even bother looking at the green-haired boy on the floor.
Murakami Kenzo, half-conscious and bleeding from the mouth, struggled to crawl away. All he wanted was to get as far as possible from that devilish girl.
Tetsu Moroha offered no further explanation.
Instead, her thoughts lingered on the instant when Koji Shimizu had moved.
She remembered his kendo skills clearly, but as a person, he had long since faded from her thoughts.
To her, he had been nothing more than a rare talent—someone who had briefly sparked her interest.
But his two lightning-fast movements had shattered her calm state of mind.
The second time had been a deliberate test.
Yet Koji Shimizu's calm eyes had seemed to see through every movement she made.
He had become stronger.
And not just by a little.
A sense of disbelief filled her, almost suffocating her.
It hadn't even been that long.
Was this the natural advantage men possessed?
Such thoughts stirred inside her, mixing with feelings of unfairness and unwillingness to accept it.
No—this wasn't simply a matter of gender.
Despite the turmoil in her heart, her face remained as calm and cold as before.
It was only a small incident.
Murakami Kenzo crawled away along the floor, occasionally stepped on by passengers, but eventually he succeeded in putting distance between himself and the devilish girl.