"Kujou-san, it's best if you don't go to Hyakkaou."
Yukima Azuma's tone carried a gravity rarely heard from him, so uncharacteristically serious that even the playful sparkle in Alya's crimson eyes dimmed.
He wasn't being melodramatic—he was being protective. Dead serious.
"It's not just called the Gambling Hell for show."
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke.
"Hyakkaou doesn't just revolve around gambling—it builds its entire system around it. Including the social hierarchy, student rights, and even… autonomy."
Alya tilted her head, listening closely.
"They have something called the Housepet system," Azuma continued. "If you gamble and rack up too much debt, the Student Council will 'graciously' pay it off for you."
He scoffed.
"But that kindness comes at a cost. From that moment on, you're not a student. You're a pet."
Alya blinked. "Like… metaphorically?"
Azuma shook his head.
"No. Literally. You wear tags. Dog or cat. You're addressed as a pet. You lose privileges. Rights. The Student Council can control your future—who you marry, what choices you're allowed to make… sometimes even your body."
A long silence followed.
Even the usual classroom chatter seemed to fade away in Alya's mind.
"If both parties agree, students at Hyakkaou can wager anything. Even their own lives."
Azuma looked directly at her now.
"That's why I said… you shouldn't go. You're not compatible with that place. You're kind… but competitive. You're a perfectionist. That's the worst possible trait to have in a place like Hyakkaou."
For once, Alya didn't respond with a sharp remark. Her voice came soft.
"…I won't. I was just curious."
And then, in Russian, just loud enough for him to hear:
"But thanks for worrying about me."
Azuma smiled faintly.
Fried Chicken, Friendship, and False Honor
The morning classes passed quickly. Literature gave way to Chemistry, and then Math. With fourth period set to be Cooking Class, spirits began to lift.
Especially once Kita Ikuyo popped over from another row, lunchbox in hand.
"Ehh? Cooking class today? But I brought a bento…"
The energetic girl looked torn as she opened her box. Inside were four thick sandwiches stacked with golden-fried chicken thighs, crispy lettuce, creamy sauce, and just the right amount of toasted bread.
"I can't finish all of this. Has everyone eaten? Help me out!"
(M'~')♡
Eriri, already full from breakfast, backed off. Kato Megumi and Alya did the same.
Only Yukima Azuma was targeted now. She locked eyes with him.
"I already ate…" he began, raising his hands.
But Kita's pleading eyes hit him like a puppy staring into your soul.
"Ugh, fine…"
Azuma sighed, picked up a sandwich, and took a bite.
Crunchy. Juicy. Impossibly satisfying.
"…This is really good."
So good, in fact, he grabbed two more.
Then, like a mischievous merchant, he turned and marched toward the desks of his hungry, slouching friends: Satou Kazuma and Kunimi Yuuma.
"Breakfast?" he asked with a grin.
The two sleepyheads looked up, eyes dull—until they spotted the glistening fried chicken.
"Wanna taste?"
They nodded automatically.
Azuma held up the sandwiches.
"Then say it."
Satou narrowed his eyes. "Say what?"
"Say 'Honored Father.' Loud and clear."
Kunimi groaned. "You serious?"
Azuma merely peeled the bread slightly—revealing more of that thick, delicious chicken cutlet.
"Kita-san made it."
They cracked.
"Honored Father!" ×2
Azuma grinned triumphantly and handed them the sandwiches.
The boys took enormous bites. Tears practically welled in their eyes.
And just when they were mid-chew…
"That'll be 500 yen each."
("°□°)!! NANI?!"
"You made us call you father, and now you're charging us?!"
"It's not mine—it's Kita-san's," Azuma shrugged innocently. "If it were mine, I'd treat you. But I'm not a thief."
Groaning in defeat, the boys handed over their coins.
Azuma smirked and walked back toward the girls—only to pause as the classroom door cracked open.
Standing there with her usual cold beauty was Kirisu Mafuyu.
"Yukima Azuma. Come to the office."
Her tone was clipped but not angry.
Azuma blinked.
What now?
But before leaving, he turned back, placed the 1,000 yen from the boys on Kita's desk, and added another 1,000 yen from his own wallet.
"Here. Consider it payment for a top-tier lunch."
Kita Ikuyo panicked.
"No no no! Yukima-san helped me out! I couldn't—"
"Take it," he said firmly. "The food deserves it."
As he grabbed the final sandwich, he turned around.
"Need anything from the vending machine?"
"Black tea, please." Megumi raised her hand sweetly.
"Green tea." Kita held out a coin.
Eriri hesitated.
Azuma nodded before she could answer.
"Lemon tea. I know."
Finally, he turned to Alya.
She stiffened.
He's asking me too?
But before she could answer—
"Red bean soup?" Azuma offered with a gentle smile.
Alya blinked in surprise. How did he—
She nodded softly.
"Thanks."
"How wonderful," she added in Russian, her voice quieter this time.
Azuma chuckled and walked out of the classroom, sandwich in hand.
Invitation to Prestige
Upon reaching the office, Azuma knocked and stepped inside.
A nearby teacher teased, "Here again so soon, Azuma-kun?"
"Can't help it. Kirisu-sensei spoils me too much."
He said it with a wink.
The other teachers laughed.
But Kirisu Mafuyu didn't smile. She walked over briskly and pulled him to her desk, face slightly red.
"Don't spout nonsense in public."
Azuma sat across from her, completely unfazed.
Before she could begin, he reached into his bag and placed the final sandwich on her desk.
"You didn't eat breakfast, did you?"
Kirisu froze.
Her stomach growled in betrayal.
gurururu~
Her face turned crimson.
(>>/////<)
But she didn't argue. Without a word, she took the sandwich, unwrapped it, and took a bite. Her posture relaxed ever so slightly.
He noticed… again.
This boy had seen her in some of her worst moments. Why did his little gestures still fluster her?
Because he's always genuine…
After a quiet minute of chewing, she finally handed him a neatly folded paper—an ornate letter sealed with Shuchiin Academy's gold crest.
Azuma opened it and skimmed the contents.
His eyebrows rose.
"An official invitation?"
Kirisu nodded. "They sent it directly to the board. A handwritten one, no less."
Azuma sat back in his chair.
"Handwritten, huh? Do they value me that much, or just really like calligraphy?"
Kirisu chuckled softly, then grew serious.
"What do you think? This isn't a small thing. If you accept, you'll be away from Toyogasaki for the rest of the semester."
Azuma didn't reply immediately.
His gaze drifted toward the window. Sunlight filtered through the glass, painting a gentle glow over his desk.
Somewhere behind that glass were his classmates—Eriri, Megumi, Alya, Kita, Satou, Kunimi…
He set the invitation down gently.
"Let's just say… I'm not in a hurry to leave my current classroom."