Chapter 13: Going to School

The number of people on the train kept increasing, and the city beauty was eventually squeezed to the other side of the carriage. Only then did Haruhi breathe a sigh of relief.

He considered whether he should buy a bicycle in the future; not only could he exercise, but he could also avoid situations like today.

It was truly unpleasant to be taken advantage of!

And just now, he hadn’t even asked the city beauty for her contact information! Next time he rode the train, he could message her in advance to let her know, and they could travel together… No, he should send a warning instead!

If she dared torment a pure-hearted high school boy like him on the train again, he definitely wouldn’t let her off easily! She would have to eat her fill, whether she wanted to or not!

“Hey, fatso, what dirty thoughts are you having in that head of yours? Why do you look so pleased?” Meirong Seiryo looped both arms around Haruhi’s, grunting in dissatisfaction.

“Really?” Haruhi Arano looked a bit embarrassed. He was clearly against being taken advantage of!

No, something must have gone wrong somewhere.

The train’s chime sounded, and Haruhi and Meirong got off at Yotsuya Station, heading up the long slope toward their school.

The young lady Seiryo seemed quite cheerful; it was as if returning to school meant returning to her home turf.

Haruhi, massaging his sore arms, trailed behind the little delinquent, gazing at the pale-pink winter cherry blossoms lining the road and the fair legs beneath bright miniskirts. He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

The two kept a distance of one and a half meters between them, neither taking the initiative to speak. It was as if nothing had happened the night before—after a moment of impulsiveness, everything returned to normal the next day.

Meirong Seiryo was still the charismatic queen bee, and along the way, many male students hesitated, wanting to greet her but frightened of being beaten up.

On the surface, they chatted loudly with their friends about last night’s hot episode of “The Problematic Love Story of Master Sensei,” but their eyes kept straying in this direction.

But anime was anime; in reality, would a lady from a distinguished family really fall for a plain-looking nobody?

Haruno, on the other hand, had changed a little.

His charm had leaped from 55 to 75 points—a qualitative transformation. Though he still couldn’t compare to the school heartthrobs of Tokyo, in this sea of greasy, ordinary Japanese high school boys, Haruhi Arano now stood out as a rather handsome guy.

This led to groups of girls in ribboned uniforms and pleated skirts whispering among themselves.

They all wondered who this handsome guy was, why they’d never noticed him at school before, and his solid build—he looked so safe!

They couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be pinned beneath him; it must be heavenly!

Being good-looking really was an advantage. Even if you were a bit chubby, people would add flattering adjectives like “sense of security”—how pleasant that sounded.

It was Haruhi’s first time experiencing such treatment. Though he maintained a friendly facade, inside he was practically giddy.

Meirong Seiryo rolled her eyes at the gossip. Sense of security?

She glanced quickly at the tightly stretched sleeve of his uniform, recalling his performance on the train and in bed the night before. He did seem to have a sense of security.

But judging from Haruhi’s expression, the fat guy was clearly feeling smug. She snorted and quickened her pace, leaving him behind.

Haruhi shook his head and didn’t bother chasing after her. Soon, Meirong disappeared from sight.

At the entrance to the corridor, he opened his shoe locker. There was no so-called pink love letter, only a solitary pair of white shoes.

He tossed his shoes on the floor, yawned, and changed into his indoor slippers. He felt sleepy as soon as he arrived at school.

He entered the classroom to find most classmates already there. Meirong Seiryo sat at her desk, propping her cheek with her left hand, looking impatient for class to begin. When she saw Haruhi at the door, her eyes brightened a little.

The two flashy delinquents standing by the desk seemed to notice their leader’s gaze. Their previous discussion about relaxing at karaoke tonight abruptly ceased as they followed her eyes—only to see a broad-shouldered fat guy grinning his way inside.

“I thought it was some handsome guy!” Kanae Terashima sneered, clearly looking down on an unremarkable fatty like Haruhi. “Turns out it’s our classmate Haruhi Arano.”

“But, have you noticed? He does seem a little bit more handsome,” Mai Hanai murmured.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that big fat Haruhi Arano!” Terashima’s voice suddenly shot up several decibels, gleefully shouting, “Hey! Fatso Haruhi, our Mai has a crush on you!”

Her voice was loud enough for everyone in class to hear. Instantly, the whole room erupted in chatter, watching Haruhi and Mai Hanai with the delight of spectators at a show.

“Hey! Terashima, you!” Mai Hanai was furious and lunged at Kanae Terashima.

The two delinquent beauties wrestled and laughed. Though they couldn’t compare to Meirong Seiryo, both were among the top beauties in class—especially Mai Hanai, who had a figure that surpassed her peers. A fight between beauties made all the otaku boys in the class watch with burning eyes.

Meirong Seiryo said nothing, her beautiful eyes reflecting unfathomable thoughts.

Haruhi shrugged. He certainly didn’t believe a word of Terashima’s nonsense and walked calmly to his “throne.”

The last row by the window.

If it had been up to him, he’d never have gotten this seat—after all, in every class, this spot was sacred in the hearts of every hot-blooded, adolescent boy.

Unfortunately, the teacher had assigned him here.

He remembered the day when all the boys in class looked at him as if their wives had been stolen.

He never quite understood, but he didn’t graciously offer his seat to anyone else, either.

Sitting here, when he was bored, he could always watch the pretty girls in gym uniforms on the field.

If luck was on his side, he might even catch a glimpse of a certain idiot in a school swimsuit running across the field to the pool.

Aside from the cherry blossoms everywhere, this was what youth was all about.

The morning classes ended quickly, dull and tedious. If it hadn’t been for the beautiful silhouette of Meirong Seiryo sitting not far away, he wouldn’t have known how to survive such a boring morning.

The National High School, though not on par with the neighboring Kanagawa Academy, was still one of Tokyo’s top schools.

It was known for its relatively relaxed approach to education. Since Haruhi had been admitted, he’d put in some effort, but his grades remained mediocre, so he eventually gave up and started coasting.

Mediocre grades, no athletic talent, ordinary looks—these were the labels that had defined Haruhi Arano until now.