In the dim glow of a flickering light, a devilish grin spread across Haruto Sazanami's face as he unscrewed the cap of a bottle labeled "Flammable Ethanol."
He filled a sprayer with the liquid, then pulled out a lighter and flicked it on. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he aimed the sprayer at an empty corner and pressed down on the nozzle.
A burst of invisible flames ignited.
Haruto's curiosity got the better of him. Without thinking, he reached out—
Sssss—!
The burning sensation shot through his fingertips like a live wire.
"WOAH! WOAH! Which idiot came up with this plan?!"
Then, as realization struck, his expression darkened.
"...Oh. It was me."
A moment of silence.
Then, with dramatic fury, he slapped himself across the face.
"You absolute moron! You always put me in these situations!"
Still grumbling, he turned toward the darkest corner of the room—where a faint metallic glint caught his eye.
A sealed case.
Inside lay one of the most dangerous chemicals in the world—a substance so infamous it had been the reason behind sensational news reports of bricks spontaneously bursting into flames.
The foundation of his entire plan.
Who would have thought this body contained such a terrifying thing? But after merging with him, it wasn't so surprising. Haruto Sazanami was, after all, an extremely strange person.
His steps trembled slightly as he approached the case. He inhaled deeply, then smirked.
Step one: Security needs to be occupied.
A major accident. A building in flames.
That will be my perfect opportunity to rob the entire mall.
But not yet. He needed to wait at least a month. If he acted too soon, suspicion would fall on him immediately. He still had to study the school's system, understand the patterns of security, and prepare for the perfect moment.
Nodding to himself, he whispered, "Alright. Sleep time."
With the caution of a master conspirator, he carefully hid the chemicals where no one would ever find them.
Then, stretching his arms with satisfaction, he approached his fluffy bed—and collapsed onto it like a corpse.
...Only to suddenly sit up.
Something felt incomplete.
His gaze drifted to the slightly open window.
He smirked.
Moving silently, he retrieved a camera and set it up at the perfect angle. Standing in front of the window, he struck a deep-thinking pose, like some brooding intellectual model.
Then, with a dramatic murmur, he said, "Finally, this room has been used for its true purpose."
With that, Haruto climbed into bed. Within seconds, he was out cold—like a koala.
****
Morning.
A deafening noise shattered the silence.
Haruto Sazanami's eyes shot open, his consciousness dragged unwillingly from the depths of slumber. His first instinct?
Declare war.
"Demon!" he roared, grabbing the blaring alarm clock. "Your manufacturers must be spawns of evil!"
With dramatic indignation, he slammed the button, silencing the infernal device.
Grumbling, he rolled out of bed and went about his morning routine with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner heading to execution.
After a half-hearted stretch, he dragged himself to the bathroom, emerging minutes later fresh but still sheepish.
Then came the kitchen.
His eyes narrowed as he picked up a knife. It gleamed under the light, an instrument of both nourishment and potential betrayal.
With slow, deliberate precision, he began chopping vegetables—only to slice his finger.
The pain registered a second later.
"AAAAAHHH—!!!"
He screamed with the shrillness of a woman spotting a cockroach.
In a wild flail, he lost his balance and crashed onto the floor, narrowly avoiding a life-altering injury. With lightning reflexes, he rolled away just in time, then sat up, breathing heavily.
His gaze turned back to the knife.
A formidable enemy indeed.
After muttering curses at the treacherous blade, he begrudgingly resumed his task. Eventually, breakfast was ready. He ate in silence, refilled a water bottle, packed his tiffin, and stood at the entrance of his room.
The moment of departure.
His eyes turned numb—like a girl watching her beloved leave for a distant, faraway land.
Still, there was no choice. School awaited.
At Classroom
As soon as Haruto entered, he was once again greeted by proof of government cost-cutting.
The classroom bore hollow dots on the walls, metallic art that no one understood, and a dreary, soul-crushing grey.
His gaze drifted.
Kushida.
She was talking to another girl, yet the corner of her eyes kept glancing towards Ayanokoji and Horikita.
A golden opportunity.
Most of the students were engaged in conversations about leisure, the latest Netindo console, and other trivialities. Haruto carefully took each step, making sure no one noticed him.
Finally, he reached his seat.
Only to feel the piercing stare of a pink-eyed, glasses-wearing girl.
Like a street dog staring at an unsuspecting diner.
With a silent "shoo," he turned away, sinking into his seat. His eyes flickered between Kushida and Ayanokoji. The latter eventually stood up and left the class.
Haruto sighed in relief.
Only to freeze.
Horikita was staring at him.
The glasses girl had moved away, but her silent judgment remained.
Haruto, in response?
Pure, unfiltered shamelessness.
He climbed onto the bench, pulled out his phone, and began playing.
Ignoring everyone.
Ten minutes later, his gaze flicked up.
Ayanokoji had returned.
Five minutes later, so did Kushida.
Haruto shook his head, adjusting his short hair to fall over his face.
Suddenly The teacher arrived.
Haruto never lowered his head during her class.
The reason?
Obvious.
Those distracting big things.
He pretended to be deeply immersed in learning. But as time passed, he noticed something strange.
Aside from Ayanokoji and Horikita, most of the other students weren't paying attention.
They were doing their own things.
Haruto blinked.
Then realization dawned.
He had been tricked.
The betrayal was personal.
His precious focus wasted on a class that no one else was taking seriously.
An immediate decision was made.
He whipped out his phone and began playing games.
For a while, all was well.
Until a thought crept into his mind.
"I… might actually need this information."
Conflicted, he raised his gaze back to the board.
His mind tried to grasp the knowledge.
And in doing so—
He fell unconscious.
Knocked out by the sheer overload of information.
No one noticed.
And thus, Haruto Sazanami became the first self-defeated victim of the morning lecture.