The faint buzz of fluorescent lights filled the empty classroom, a stark contrast to the muffled chaos echoing from the school hallways. Haruki slouched over his desk, drumming his fingers against the polished wood. The second day of his “new life” as Haruki Sato had begun, and it was already off to an uncomfortable start.
The moment he’d entered the classroom, the whispers had started again.
“Do you think he’s really in the Yakuza?”
“I heard he made those bullies apologize yesterday with just one look.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird? He hasn’t told anyone what his dad does.”
Haruki’s jaw tightened. It wasn’t like he could just stand up and yell, “You’ve got it all wrong! I’m not some scary delinquent!” That would only make things worse. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, staring out the window and pretending not to notice the stares.
Eiji, the boy sitting next to him, leaned over conspiratorially. His grin was a little too wide, like he was about to share a juicy secret. “Man, you’re already a legend, and it’s only your second day.”
Haruki shot him a sidelong glance. “Legend?”
“Yeah! Word around school is that you’ve got connections,” Eiji whispered, tapping the side of his nose as if they were partners in crime.
Haruki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Connections to what? The cafeteria’s lost-and-found?”
“You know,” Eiji said, lowering his voice dramatically, “connections.”
Before Haruki could respond, the classroom door slid open, and Aoi Kisaragi walked in, her sharp gaze sweeping the room like a spotlight. Haruki stiffened in his seat.
He hadn’t forgotten their strange encounter after school yesterday—or the way she’d accused him of “hiding something.” She was like a hound on a scent, and Haruki couldn’t shake the feeling that she was planning to dig into his life until she found whatever she thought she was looking for.
Aoi’s eyes landed on him for a split second before she walked briskly to her desk at the front of the class. Haruki exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of her gaze lift. But the sense of unease lingered.
Lunch brought no relief. If anything, it only made things worse.
Haruki sat in the far corner of the cafeteria, trying to enjoy his bento in peace. He had chosen his spot carefully—away from the main seating areas, with his back to the wall. But even here, he couldn’t escape the whispers and sideways glances.
“Is he really dangerous?”
“Someone said he got expelled from his last school for fighting.”
“I don’t know... he doesn’t look like a delinquent.”
Haruki stabbed at a piece of pickled radish with his chopsticks, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. All he wanted was a quiet, uneventful lunch. Was that too much to ask?
Eiji, who had decided to sit with him again, seemed blissfully unaware of the tension in the room. He was halfway through a massive curry bread, crumbs spilling onto the table as he talked with his mouth full.
“Hey, Haruki, you’re not gonna believe this,” Eiji said, spraying a few crumbs in the process. “Apparently, those bullies from yesterday went to the teacher’s office this morning and apologized to that kid they were picking on.”
Haruki blinked. “They what?”
“Yeah! I overheard them talking about it. They said they didn’t want any trouble with... well, you.”
Haruki groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Oh, come on! It’s not that bad,” Eiji said, clapping him on the shoulder. “If anything, it means people respect you now.”
“Respect me for what? Doing the bare minimum?” Haruki muttered.
Eiji laughed. “Sometimes that’s all it takes. Besides, you’ve got the whole mysterious vibe going for you. People love that kind of thing.”
Haruki shot him a flat look. “I’m not trying to be mysterious. I’m just trying to survive high school without drawing attention to myself.”
“Well, you’re not doing a great job of it,” a new voice cut in.
Haruki stiffened, recognizing the sharp, no-nonsense tone immediately. He turned to see Aoi standing a few feet away, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.
Eiji looked between them, his grin faltering. “Uh, do you two know each other?”
“Not really,” Aoi said, her eyes never leaving Haruki. “But I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Haruki Sato.”
Haruki forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Can’t this wait? I’m in the middle of lunch.”
“It won’t take long,” Aoi said, stepping closer.
Eiji looked like he wanted to shrink into his seat. “I, uh... just remembered I have to return a library book. Catch you later, Haruki!” He bolted before Haruki could stop him, leaving him alone with Aoi.
Haruki sighed, setting his chopsticks down. “What do you want?”
“I want to know the truth,” Aoi said bluntly, her gaze piercing.
“The truth about what?”
“About you. About why you’re here. About why everyone seems to think you’re some kind of delinquent with ties to the underworld.”
Haruki felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. “That’s a lot of assumptions for someone who’s only known me for a day.”
Aoi didn’t flinch. “I’ve been watching people for a long time. I can tell when someone’s hiding something. And you... you’re hiding something big.”
Haruki leaned back in his chair, forcing himself to appear calm. “And what if I am? Are you planning to write an exposé for the school newspaper?”
“Maybe,” Aoi said, tilting her head slightly. “Or maybe I just want to know who I’m dealing with.”
For a moment, Haruki considered telling her the truth—just blurting it all out and letting her deal with the consequences. But then he thought about his father, the Nakamura family, and the very real danger of someone discovering his secret.
“I’m just a normal guy,” he said finally. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
Aoi studied him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. Then she turned and walked away without another word.
Haruki let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. But even as he picked up his chopsticks and resumed eating, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Aoi wasn’t going to let this go.
After lunch, Haruki’s day only got more complicated.
It started with a group of students cornering him in the hallway. They weren’t bullies—at least, not in the traditional sense. If anything, they looked more like... fans.
“Hey, Haruki, is it true you used to go to an underground fight club?” one of them asked eagerly.
Haruki blinked. “What? No!”
“Aw, come on! Don’t be shy,” another student said. “You can tell us!”
“There’s nothing to tell!” Haruki snapped, pushing past them and hurrying toward his next class.
The rumors were spiraling out of control. No matter how many times he denied them, they seemed to take on a life of their own. By the time the final bell rang, Haruki was thoroughly exhausted.
As he walked out of the school gates, he caught a glimpse of Aoi standing by the wall, talking to someone on her phone. She glanced in his direction for a split second before turning away.
Haruki quickened his pace, determined to get home as quickly as possible.
But as he reached the end of the street, a black car pulled up beside him, its tinted windows glinting in the afternoon sun. The back door opened, and Haruki’s father’s right-hand man stepped out, his expression serious.
“Master Haruki,” the man said, bowing slightly. “Your father has requested your presence.”
Haruki sighed, rubbing his temples. “Can’t it wait?”
The man shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
Haruki climbed into the car, his stomach sinking. Whatever his father wanted, it couldn’t be good.