Threads (8)
German psychotherapist Rolf Merkle once said:
"A genius can't beat someone who works hard, and someone who works hard can't beat someone who enjoys it."
Confucius expressed something similar in more familiar words.
He said:
The Master said, "Those who know are not equal to those who love; those who love are not equal to those who delight in it."
Zi yue, zhi zhi zhe bu ru hao zhi zhe, hao zhi zhe bu ru le zhi zhe.
Those who know fall short of those who love it, and those who love it fall short of those who take delight in it.
Though the nuances differ slightly in each saying, the core message is clear: it tells us the mindset and attitude one should have when pursuing learning.
It's not exactly the same, but Yuuma High School's philosophy aligns closely.
Polish yourself through enjoyment.
That's why it's called Yuuma—play and grind.
Most students choose to enroll based solely on this slogan. In their eyes, Yuuma High probably shines as a dreamland of hope for aspiring artists and athletes.
Everyone enters with hearts full of lofty dreams and aspirations.
But after a month, they realize the truth.
This is a wild jungle where the strong devour the weak.
Yuuma High School.
Its full name is Private Yuuma High School, the largest and most ruthlessly survival-of-the-fittest institution among arts and athletics high schools.
If you lack talent, if you don't work hard, if you don't produce results—you won't survive.
To avoid being weeded out, keep honing and whipping yourself relentlessly.
Students from arts or athletics backgrounds who enter with half-hearted resolve usually break within a year.
The transfer rate is staggering.
Far more flee to other schools in desperate transfers than lateral ones.
That's why current students and alumni alike describe their alma mater as the "graveyard of the arts and athletics."
The law of the jungle.
No mercy for seniors, no leniency for juniors.
Bury your rivals one by one and reign supreme alone.
Winner takes all.
The one left standing at the end will receive rewards befitting their victory.
Honjo Rena had followed Yuuma High's traditions to the letter, smashing her seniors one after another to claim exclusive rights to Art Room A—the heretic of Yuuma's art world.
With wins in countless sketching contests, design competitions, and even work recognized by major corporations' marketing teams, she received unprecedented treatment and rose swiftly.
They cursed her behind her back, but none dared do it to her face.
Eventually, she could skip classes entirely, hole up in the art room, and draw to her heart's content.
The chairman approved it personally.
"That's just how Honjo Rena is. She's the talent who'll become a giant in Japan's art scene. If you want to block her path, muster the guts to take it up with the Arisugawa family sponsoring her."
No one dared contradict the chairman's offhand remark at the staff meeting.
And so.
While all the teachers feared her, one foolhardy group dared to mess with her.
Rena called them "idiots wearing the hat of 'seniors.'"
"Fucking bitches."
Rena spat profanity that didn't match her childish voice.
She took in the devastated state of the art room.
Canvases scratched and smeared with shoe prints everywhere, as if done out of pure spite.
Easels with bent supports—who the hell did that?
Brush bristles torn to shreds.
And finally, a stool with a broken leg, its seat smeared in shit-brown paint.
"Ha."
Rena ground her teeth.
Her father had custom-made that one-of-a-kind stool just for her.
And now it was ruined.
"Un-fucking-believable."
Her emotions boiled over into absurd laughter.
Her hands trembled without a hint of tremor syndrome, veins bulging to hint at her rage's depth.
"Urgh..."
Rena roughly raked back her hair.
Her carefully styled morning look—ruined after ages of good vibes.
"This is such bullshit."
Calm fury settled in her aquamarine-deep blue eyes.
Head cool.
Heart hot.
Regaining composure, Rena inwardly scolded herself.
I've been too lax lately.
After school, Art Room A officially became her personal space.
But if asked if she only used it after hours, she'd shake her head. She'd long treated it as her private domain.
Eating lunch with her friend Iris, skipping class to draw alone, personal hobbies.
For the next two and a half years until graduation, she could confidently say she'd spend more time in Art Room A than in class.
Essentially her private studio, Art Room A was her kingdom.
No one complained.
Yuuma had seven art rooms from A to G anyway, and classes weren't always held there, so the school saw no issue.
Handing over one room to an exceptional student was nothing for Yuuma. Thanks to that, Rena had worked undisturbed until now.
So she'd let her guard down.
No—she had.
No one but me, Iris, and the occasional art teacher comes in, so why bother locking it? Too much hassle.
Laziness kept the lock unused.
No upcoming solo exhibits or commissions—she'd slacked on security, lost in personal hobbies. This was the result.
"CCTV's even installed—what the fuck gives?"
As mentioned, Art Room A had been her domain for ages.
It had CCTV inside. She'd questioned the need, but it was the chairman's recommendation, and her friend Iris insisted it was dangerous for cute Rena to be alone in a remote room—pushing security hard.
Thank god she'd listened.
For the first time, Rena thanked nagging Iris and the pervy-but-handsome chairman.
"Just wait till I catch 'em. Seniors or not, I'll rip every hair from their heads."
Rubbing her throbbing forehead, Rena pulled out her phone.
Truth be told, the ruined artwork didn't matter. To others, the piece on the easel might look impressive, but to her, it was just mindless scribbles.
Who cared if that got wrecked?
She didn't.
Didn't care—bullshit.
"Even thinking it over, it's fucking infuriating!"
What if that had been commissioned work? For a contest? A themed piece for a scheduled solo exhibit?
Or even if they'd just left the stool alone?
Bottom line: pride as an artist be damned. Rena was just pissed.
"They dared look down on me?"
Just watch. She chewed on her rage.
What she hated most were people who underestimated her.
Always had.
Far below average height. A face anyone would call cute. A loli voice straight out of otaku fantasies, light-years from maturity.
Everyone—men, women, young, old—looked down on her.
It always boiled her blood.
Struggling with emotional control led to constant outbursts, gluing curses to her tongue.
Luckily, her cute looks and artist title excused her foul mouth—everyone understood and let it slide.
But if she hadn't been stuck with this kid-like body from the start, maybe she wouldn't curse like this?
Anyway.
Destroying art? Fine.
But the intent behind it—clear malice aimed at her—that was the problem.
And daring to touch the stool her dad made for her birthday...
"No forgiveness."
Rena jabbed the call button on her screen.
Or tried to.
BAM!
"Rena-chan!"
"Gah!"
If Iris hadn't burst in and tackled her...
"Rena-chan! Big trouble! What do I do? I totally bombed!"
"Mrrghph!"
If Iris's chest hadn't crushed her windpipe...!
"S-sorry! You okay?"
"Pwah! Put me down first, you pig!"
Rena would've definitely called the chairman and escalated this.
No doubt.
* * *
Having shoved the sticky-paint stool aside, Rena dragged out the round chair she'd tossed in the corner as "too hard to climb"—grunting as she perched on it.
"So."
Rena propped her chin, squinting snake-like eyes up and down at Iris.
"Why'd you barge in here making a fuss?"
Her gaze dripped with emotion—tilted and prickly.
Sensing her mood was worse than usual, Iris shrank back.
Her eyes cautiously scanned the art room.
Ah, timing...
Realizing what happened, Iris gauged Rena's mood.
Her rage had already flown thanks to Iris, but to avoid eternal silence, Rena sighed and continued.
"Weren't you finally getting another friend today?"
"Y-yeah? Ahaha."
"Acted like a triumphant general returning, but from that look—total failure?"
Stab!
Rena's words pierced Iris's chest like a dagger.
"Urk! Th-this is just a strategic retreat for future gains!"
"Yeah? Retreats pretty damn fast, though."
"There was... some misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?"
Having messaged the chairman to check the CCTV, Rena eyed Iris lazily. Relaxed gaze giving Iris a confidence boost.
"I was a million percent sure, y'know? 'Oh, this guy's definitely a hardcore BARD fan!' But his reaction was weird. Totally not what I expected! No way it should've been like that!"
"What reaction did you expect, exactly?"
"Something like, 'Arisugawa's amazing! No way you're a single-digit first-gen Lutist of that legendary group!?'"
"A guy saying that would be creepy as hell."
"Gotta allow some exaggeration. But for a fan club member, that's tame, right? Rena-chan gets overzealous fans at every exhibit."
"Why d'you think I skip exhibits? There's a reason, idiot."
Those fans loved her looks, not her work—purely impure motives.
Rena propped her elbow on the newspaper-covered desk, chin in hand.
She scanned Iris top to bottom with a bored expression.
Hate to admit it, but...
Arisugawa Iris was beautiful. Had everything Rena lacked.
Which made it even harder to understand.
"Doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't?"
"What's the gain in befriending him that the great Iris would approach a guy?"
Rena was baffled.
She knew Iris wanted a "real" friend who truly connected, but did it have to be a guy?
Women were pickier, more emotional, bitchier than men—she agreed—but someone like Iris gained nothing from guy friends.
"Two downsides off the top of my head."
Rena unfolded thumb and index on her left hand, ticking them off.
Thumb first.
Hanging with guys spreads bad rumors easy.
Then index.
Guys chasing girls have obvious ulterior motives.
"Oh, one more just popped up."
Rena raised her middle finger.
"Rena-chan!?"
"Your dad's a pain in the ass."
"Can't deny it, and that hurts! But for my sake, fold the middle one?"
"Too vulgar," Iris fumbled to fold Rena's finger.
"Sigh. Rena-chan's cuteness is world-class, but it's wasted on that face."
"And you're world-class milk cow material, but it's a shame you're just a student."
"Hey!"
"Quit school now, join a farm—you'd be a star overnight."
"Rena-chan, seriously! No sexual harassment for a while! I might tell the old man!"
Iris crossed her arms in an X, yelling—Rena giggled.
Teasing Iris was peak stress relief.
"Phew, feeling alive now. Thought I'd die of rage earlier."
"Um, Rena-chan? You sure you're not confusing friends with punching bags?"
"As if."
"Heh, knew it?"
"I've never seen you as more than a punching bag."
"I'm really getting mad!"
Anyway, giggling, Rena relisted guy-friend downsides.
Iris balked.
"Wha, do you have to weigh pros and cons for making friends?"
"Yeah yeah, right back at ya, you damn udder girl."
Rena irritably smacked her chest.
"Kyahn!"
"Tch! So jiggly for no reason."
"That's mean, Rena-chan! You hit my boobs and that's what you say!?"
"Whatever. So, end result? How'd it go down?"
"Uh..."
Iris spaced out, then scowled reluctantly.
Rena sighed involuntarily.
At this point, no answer was the answer.
"Forget it. No need to say. Your face tells me enough."
"That pisses me off too..."
Whatever pout Iris made—
Clap clap!
Rena clapped.
"Congrats."
Angelic smile on her face.
No—demonic. Bratty mesugaki.
"Epic fail, looks great. How's it feel? Hmm? How's it feel to get rejected? Our unbeatable Iris-sama, queen of reeling in guys—dumped by one? Huh~?"
"Not dumped! I ran! And I haven't even heard back yet!"
"Whoa... that's even more pathetic, and you know it."
"Urk!"
Kicking her chair, fuming Iris sat back with a groan.
After all her big talk, the humiliation burned—face flushing as the Arisugawa heiress faced her greatest shame.
"Thought he'd fall for sure..."
"Yeah?"
As Iris deflated, Rena tapped her lips with an index finger.
Poor thing—maybe comfort her once?
Comfort wasn't her role, but just this once.
"Say he really is, purely, no ulterior motives, a BARD fan like you said."
"Usually that means the opposite of what you think."
"True. I don't buy he's a pure fan either. Tickets are rare, sure—but show off a girlfriend? Guys'll do anything. Right?"
"Maybe?"
"Anyway, hypothetical. He's a pure BARD fan, and some pig goes:"
"Pig!?"
"'I'm a single-digit first-gen Lutist in the official fan club. We're leagues apart.'"
"I wasn't that arrogant!"
"That's the vibe, you thick-skulled idiot."
"Th-thick-skulled!? I beat your grades, Rena-chan!"
Rena clamped Iris's lips.
"Shut up and listen. Where was I...?"
Leagues apart, right.
"What would a pure BARD-loving guy think of you saying that?"
"Uh... old hag?"
Rena snapped her fingers.
"Bingo. Might've freaked: 'This is Lutist level from the official club?'"
"Not me!"
"Assuming he's pure. How many pure guys are there? All wolves. Right?"
"Hmm..."
Iris swallowed doubtfully.
"He did blush when we first met..."
"Game over then. Or?"
"But this time he was super chill? Even dodged me a bit."
"Guys pull all kinds of stunts for attention."
"How do you know so much about guys, Rena-chan?"
"Uh, well..."
Rena couldn't admit it was from thin doujinshi in front of Iris.
Honjo Rena.
She had one secret hobby she couldn't tell a soul.
Making age-restricted doujinshi.
She swiftly changed the subject before Iris noticed.
"Dealt with 'em plenty! Tons of stalker fans, like you said?"
"Yeah... Honestly, guys yelling 'Rena-chaaan!' creep me out. Never pitied you much, but then? Brutal."
"Ugh. Heard it so much my brain auto-plays it."
Not playful "pig" shouts, but genuine pig-love echoes haunted her.
Rena shuddered.
Felt like canceling her second-half solo exhibit.
Anyway, they circled back to the main topic.
"What now?"
"Dunno..."
Arisugawa Iris had few friends.
Surface-level acquaintances aplenty, but true heart-to-hearts? Just the pint-sized blonde halfie before her.
Others wouldn't get it, but approaching Tae-il took massive courage for her.
Iris propped her chin, sighing wistfully.
"What was that lukewarm reaction? Was he just another horndog like the rest?"
"There you go again. Full tragic heroine mode. Can't watch."
Meeting Iris's woebegone gaze, Rena recoiled like it was disgusting.
Iris felt wronged.
"But isn't it weird? If Tae-il wanted to hit on me, he'd be all 'Honor!' or super thrilled, right!?"
"To spin it your way: brain froze in front of a hottie? Most guys lose words around you—plausible?"
"Didn't seem that cold, though."
"Poker face pro, then."
"Maybe?"
Iris tilted her head, but Rena's words had convinced her utterly. Easier than she looked.
Prior interpretations? Wiped clean.
And so.
After brief rationalization, Iris shot up shouting:
"Rena-chan's right! He was just intimidated by me!"
"Sure."
"Be right back!" Iris bolted out again.
Rena reflexively grabbed her.
"Where to?"
"To conquer the castle, fill the moat first! I got ways! Muahaha!"
Like Tokugawa Ieyasu of the three heroes, who spent ages filling Osaka Castle's moat to topple Toyotomi Hideyori?
To conquer Shin Tae-il's castle, Iris targeted the moat: Katsuragi Ayane.