As the final echoes of the lecture faded, our protagonist stirred awake, his body stiff from an unscheduled nap. Blinking away the remnants of his slumber, he barely caught the last few words from the teacher before she finally exited the room. Only then did he allow himself a deep breath, muttering under his breath, "Finally, this demonic teacher has ceased her waterfall of knowledge."
His moment of peace was short-lived, however, as he overheard Akyanokji and Horikita engaged in a hushed conversation about the lack of discipline among the students. Narrowing his eyes, he immediately accused Horikita—if only in his mind—of being biased once again. She always seemed to believe that only she and Akyanokji were worthy of being called good students.
Just as he was about to leave, he caught Akyanokji slyly mentioning to Horikita that she should accompany him to a café, citing the presence of many girls as a reason. At this, our protagonist's mind nearly short-circuited. "Violation!" he internally declared. Akyanokji had trespassed upon his copyrighted fear of girls, bringing disgrace upon the entire girl-fearing boys' society. With a firm nod, he marked the café as a 'Red Zone' in his imaginary notebook, vowing never to step foot near such a dangerous territory.
As he pondered this treachery, his attention flickered to Kushida, who was making her way out of the classroom, sparing a brief glance towards Akyanokji and Horikita. Sensing no immediate danger from her, he sighed in relief and finally departed himself. It was only then that his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had missed lunch. Looking around, he noticed a cluster of trees nearby, their branches seemingly crafted by an artistic deity. Deciding that they would provide the perfect secluded dining spot, he made his way towards them.
His plan, however, took an unexpected turn when he spotted a certain pink-haired girl—the second most dangerous person on his mental watchlist. Just as he was about to sneak past her unnoticed, she suddenly opened a nearby door. Before he could make sense of the situation, he heard a voice inside: someone was asking about trading points. The urgency in the voice intrigued him—seniors, most likely, but why such desperation? Before he could delve deeper, another voice called out, "Who's there?!"
Panic surged through him. In an instant, he activated his internal 'Hussain Bolt Mode' and dashed away like a blur, barely registering his surroundings. He didn't stop until he reached the trees, climbing up with his bare hands like a jungle survivor. Settling onto a branch, he muttered to himself, "This school is bizarre… Those seniors sounded desperate. Could it be? A secret government operation? Are they selecting only the best and eliminating the rest?" Shuddering at the thought of being deemed an academic cockroach, he resolved to maintain at least a passing grade.
With a dramatic sigh, he finally unpacked his homemade meal, devouring it in a manner befitting a rural villager. As the golden hues of the afternoon sun painted the campus, he leaned back against the sturdy tree trunk, enjoying the momentary peace.
That peace, however, did not last long.
From his vantage point, he spotted two figures walking along the pathway below, their positioning reminiscent of a scene straight out of a school drama. It was Kushida and Akyanokji. As Kushida walked past Akyanokji, she momentarily paused, striking a pose as if committing the moment to memory. His instincts flared up. "Enemy of romance detected!" Instantly, he shuffled deeper into the tree's foliage, peeking out from the other side.
It was then that he saw her.
A girl with mesmerizingly long, jet-black hair, standing eerily still, her face half-obscured like a ghost waiting to strike. The sight was so unsettling that he nearly lost his balance, only managing to steady himself at the last moment. As his eyes wandered—partly from curiosity, partly from sheer disbelief—he expected the classic anime trope: a glimpse of white under her skirt. However, his anticipation was met with crushing disappointment. Her skirt, defying all laws of physics and gravity, remained firmly in place.
Unable to accept this betrayal of reality, he unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and splashed himself with cold water. "WHAT THE HELL?!" he yelled, his voice cracking with sheer exasperation.
Just as he lowered his gaze back to her, he was met with a sight even more horrifying—a well-aimed middle finger. The realization hit too late. Shocked and betrayed by the universe, he lost his grip, plummeting from the tree with a dramatic yelp.
And thus, another day of trials and tribulations in this strange school came to an night—with him lying on the ground, cursing his fate and wondering just where this hateful girl had come from.
The black-eyed girl perched on the branch, her long hair swaying slightly in the evening breeze. She watched as the protagonist scrambled away like a startled cat, his arms flailing in a desperate sprint toward the dormitory. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Pathetic," she whispered, stretching her arms as if waking from a pleasant nap.
With a single swift motion, she hooked her leg around a thicker branch and spun upside down, her hair flowing freely like a shadow unfurling against the sky. She reached for the lowest branch, testing its sturdiness, then—without a sound—dropped down like a panther landing in its territory.
Her feet touched the ground with eerie silence. No impact, no stumble, not even a leaf displaced. It was almost as if she had never been in the tree at all. She dusted her hands off, straightened her skirt, and rolled her shoulders, ready to leave.
After witnessing the black-eyed girl descending from the tree, our protagonist, fueled by pure survival instinct, bolted toward his dormitory at a speed that would make even Usain Bolt jealous.
However, fate had other plans. Before he could disappear from sight, a slipper—moving even faster than his top speed—soared through the air and struck the back of his head with the precision of a guided missile. The sheer force sent him rolling like a spinning wheel, bulldozing through several unsuspecting students. At the grand finale of his tragic tumble, he collided with a sturdy wall, where those whom he had unfortunately rolled over decided to express their displeasure through a generous display of fists and kicks.
Meanwhile, the black-eyed girl hummed in satisfaction, then, with the agility of a squirrel, returned to her hiding spot in the tree. Concealed in the tree's hidden corners were numerous plastic bags filled with high-priced, sparkling objects, glistening like treasures stolen from a dragon's hoard.
After enduring a beating that left him resembling an ancient warrior post-battle, the protagonist, borrowing a timid boy's pole stick as a makeshift cane, hobbled his way back to his dormitory. Surprisingly, the timid boy did not use the stick to hit him, unlike the others who had taken full advantage of nearby objects as weapons. Appreciating this rare act of mercy, the protagonist generously bestowed upon him a 'Good Boy' card.
However, this act of generosity backfired spectacularly. Enraged at the sheer audacity, the timid boy attempted to kick him out of frustration but was held back by his friends, who insisted, "He's not worth it." The irony was not lost on the protagonist, considering these very friends had been among those who had already taken their revenge.
Passing through various corridors, shamelessly enduring the judgmental gazes of his peers, he finally reached his dormitory. Collapsing onto his bed, he rested for some time before remembering his most crucial mission—his daily 'dairy-free product loot' from the mall.
Like an old-school Japanese criminal, he tied a handkerchief around his face, sneaked out of his dormitory, and arrived at the store. He was completely oblivious to the sharp black eyes glaring at him from the shadows, tracking his every move with intense focus.
With the skill of a veteran, he packed twenty of everything free amid the shopkeeper's silent but shaking disbelief. Meanwhile, the black-eyed girl observed carefully, her eyes darting between him and his overstuffed plastic bags. As the shopkeeper's soul seemed to leave his body, she took advantage of the chaos, extending her hand toward the protagonist's bag with the silence of a ghost.
Just as our protagonist stepped out of the store, he reached to check his bag—only to find nothing.
His eyes widened. Betrayal! Thievery! The school was truly corrupt beyond redemption! He turned his gaze to the remaining shoppers, his expression full of righteous accusation, declaring loudly that this institution had utterly failed in producing law-abiding students. After an extended session of grumbling and cursing, he turned back to the shopkeeper, eyes shining with newfound innocence. But the shopkeeper, who had already suffered enough, simply trembled and subtly signaled a firm 'no' with his stance.
Meanwhile, the black-eyed girl, carrying the stolen plastic bags, glanced left and right before sneaking into her room. With absolute confidence that even Sherlock Holmes himself wouldn't be able to track her, she hid the bags in a secure corner.
Hanging on her wall was an old portrait: a childhood photo of herself, standing among several other children. Behind them were two familiar figures—the mother and father of the male protagonist.