Chapter 3: Sakamoto Ryuji
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 3: Sakamoto Ryuji
My name is Sakamoto Ryuji, and I'm a perfectly ordinary seventeen-year-old high school student.
On weekdays, I shuttle back and forth between home and school in a monotonous cycle. On weekends, I either work out with my childhood friend, Maiya, or play video games all night with my younger sister.
That was my basic routine.
But this week, something felt off from the very first day.
On my way to school, I bumped into a girl I'd never seen before in an alleyway. Then I realized I'd forgotten the lunchbox my sister packed for me. Then I lost the wallet that was in my pocket. All in all, it was an unlucky day.
"...I'm so unlucky."
Ichijo Academy, the school I currently attend, is a private high school in Tokyo with a pretty high academic ranking.
I had originally planned to go to a school near my house, but somehow, through my archaeologist parents' connections, I ended up here.
Apparently, they knew someone here and asked them to be my guardian while I attended high school.
I have one sibling, a sister who is two years younger than me. Since our parents are archaeologists and often travel abroad for work, it was usually just the two of us at home.
When I was younger, I resented them for it, but now, I'm honestly thankful.
It means there's no one to scold me for staying up late and playing games at home.
Today, I managed to arrive at school just in time to avoid being late and opened the back door to Class 2-B.
The first thing that entered my vision was a back as broad as the Pacific Ocean and bicep muscles that looked ready to burst, features that even a baggy gakuran couldn't hide.
And I knew this man's name.
His nickname—
'The Strongest Man in the Academy,' Kim Yoo-Sung.
Because of his macho appearance, which made it impossible to believe he was a classmate of the same age, all sorts of rumors swirled around Kim Yoo-Sung.
That he was the successor to an end-of-century assassination art, that he had a star-shaped birthmark on the back of his neck, or that he was an intellectual yakuza favored by the third boss of the Toseikai.
The truth was a mystery, but my first impression of him wasn't all that bad.
Not only did he try to answer as kindly as possible whenever someone spoke to him, but he also spent his breaks engrossed in the latest issue of Jump.
Contrary to the ominous rumors, he might actually be a good guy.
Not long after I entered the classroom, it was time for homeroom, and Matsuda, the 2nd-year student dean and our homeroom teacher, came in.
Matsuda, who looked like he'd just snuck in a nap in the faculty office, let out a huge yawn and spoke to the temporary class president who was chosen yesterday.
"Class president, lead the greeting."
At his words, a girl with pigtails who looked like a model student in every way shot up from her seat and shouted.
"Yes, sir! All rise! Bow to the teacher!"
"Yeah, yeah."
Matsuda, who received the greeting with a lazy wave, opened the attendance book he had tucked under his arm and began to call out the students' names.
"Aizawa Minami."
"Here~"
"Akagi Shun."
"Here!"
The attendance order was basically in hiragana order.
My last name, Sakamoto, was somewhere in the middle, so my name wasn't called until a little while after he started.
"Sakamoto Ryuji."
"Here."
The names of the students were called one by one, and finally, it was Kim Yoo-Sung's turn. His name, written in katakana, placed him near the end of the list.
Matsuda, still half-asleep, read the name written in the book without much thought.
"Kim… Ryusei?"
At that, Kim Yoo-Sung, who had been sitting quietly in the back of the class, spoke for the first time.
"It's Kim Yoo-Sung."
His voice was a deep, heavy bass, like something straight out of a yakuza movie.
The moment we heard it, everyone in the classroom tensed up.
Murmur, murmur...
Even Matsuda, who had looked sleepy just a moment ago, was no exception.
Realizing his mistake, he immediately corrected himself.
"Ah, Kim Yoo-Sung. My apologies, I misread it."
He tried to sound as composed as possible, but anyone could see that he was trembling.
Like a mouse before a lion, he was instinctively submitting from the depths of his soul to a superior male.
"It's fine."
But when Kim Yoo-Sung immediately said it was fine and bowed his head, Matsuda managed to finish the attendance check with a relieved, "Thank you..."
*
Just when I thought class was about to start, Matsuda suddenly cleared his throat with a "Ahem, ahem," and spoke in a serious tone.
"I know it's a bit chaotic since it's only the second day of the new semester, but quiet down for a moment."
The noisy classroom fell silent as if by magic.
Nodding in satisfaction, Matsuda suddenly dropped a bombshell.
"We have a transfer student in our class. She's come from far away, so a lot of things will be unfamiliar to her. I expect you all to be especially considerate."
With that, Matsuda called out to someone outside the classroom.
"Hey! You can come in now!"
But I had little interest in some unknown transfer student who showed up at the beginning of the semester, so I turned my head to look out the window.
The cherry blossom trees in full bloom gave off a sense of spring.
"Introduce yourself."
Right after, a cheerful voice, presumably the transfer student's, reached my ears.
"My name is Kishimoto Rika! I came up from Shizuoka! I like cats, sweets, and natto soup! I look forward to spending the next year with you all!"
"Alright then, Kishimoto, your seat... that one over there should be good."
Hearing Matsuda's words, I casually turned my head, only to see a familiar face. I couldn't help but raise my voice.
"You! The girl I bumped into in the alley this morning!"
"The pervert from this morning!"
"Who are you calling a pervert?!"
What kind of cruel joke was this?
To think that the violent girl I'd run into in the alley in front of the school this morning would be the new transfer student in my class.
Hearing our exchange, the teacher made a carefree comment, "So you two already know each other. Even better," and urged the violent girl to go and sit down.
Finally, looking as if she had no other choice, the violent girl sat in the seat next to mine. She placed her bag on the desk, glanced at me, and then turned her head away with a sharp "Hmph!"
It seemed she had gotten the wrong idea because I'd accidentally seen her panties.
As I pondered how to apologize to her naturally, the violent girl took something out of her bag and held it out to me.
"This is yours, right?"
What she held out was the wallet I had lost this morning.
I hurriedly checked its contents; the money and cards were all there.
I was about to thank her, but the violent girl, still holding a grudge, wouldn't even look my way.
In the end, I spent the rest of Matsuda's class just opening and closing my mouth, unable to exchange a single word with the violent girl next to me.
*
As soon as first period ended, a crowd of classmates flocked to the transfer student to talk to her.
Thanks to them, I lost my chance to apologize again. Like a defeated soldier, I had no choice but to stumble out of the way.
As I stood in the hallway, staring blankly at the school grounds, Maiya came up behind me and asked.
"Ryuji, did you do something to the transfer student?"
Faced with my childhood friend's concerned question, I couldn't help but lie.
"Huh? It's nothing. We just bumped into each other this morning while running to school. That's why she called me a pervert."
"Really? Well, that's a relief, but..."
Maiya muttered, glancing at the transfer student's profile inside the classroom before giving me a piece of serious advice.
"If you did something wrong, Ryuji, you have to be the one to apologize first. Got it?"
"I know, I know. Anyone would think you were my mom."
"Whaaaat~?"
To escape Maiya, who was putting her hands on her hips and entering her usual lecture mode, I quickly fled back into the classroom.
*
But my resolve was for naught. The transfer student seemed determined to ignore me completely, not saying a single word to me until the end of fourth period.
At this point, my own stubbornness started to kick in.
I packed up my textbook and grabbed the wrist of the transfer student, who looked like she was about to go have lunch with some other girls.
"What do you think you're doing all of a sudden?"
"I need to talk to you about something personal. Could you come with me for a moment?"
Our voices must have been loud, because the other students still in the classroom turned their gazes toward us.
Honestly, it was incredibly embarrassing, but I mustered my courage and spoke.
"It's about the accident this morning."
At that, the transfer student's expression, which had been cold the entire time, finally softened just a little.
"...Fine. Just for a minute."
Now that I had her permission, there was no reason to stay in the classroom.
I didn't care who was watching; I grabbed her arm and pulled her along.
My plan was to go to the deserted schoolyard behind the building during lunch.
As I was hastily leaving through the back door with the transfer student, my eyes met with Kim Yoo-Sung's, who happened to be sitting at the desk right in front of it.
He was leaning back slightly in his chair, his hands in his pants pockets in a defiant posture.
I flinched for a second, but quickly realized I didn't have time for this and hurried out of the classroom.
Since it was lunchtime, the hallways were a chaotic mess of students running toward the school store.
Taking the emergency stairs on the opposite side of the store, I arrived at my destination—the schoolyard behind the building. I stood before the transfer student, who was standing there with her arms crossed, and bowed at a ninety-degree angle.
"I'm sorry! I didn't do it on purpose!"
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
After a silence that felt like an eternity, a laugh suddenly came from above my head.
"Pfft."
Covering her mouth with the sleeve of the cardigan she wore over her sailor uniform, she smiled like a cat and said.
"You're surprisingly innocent, aren't you?"
The moment I saw her face, I realized.
The transfer student in front of me had been pretending to be angry the whole time.