Break Time
Satoru eyed the bokken by his desk, wrapped in white cloth. Its shape screamed sword.
Guitar club kids carried guitars, basketball club kids hauled balls—kendo club members toting bokken wasn't weird. Legit reason.
Still, classmates whispered.
"How'd he join the kendo club?"
"No way I'd say no if Miyajima Sakura personally invited me!"
"I tried joining, but they said it's full!"
"Damn, bullying honest folks!"
"Wahhh, how much charm did Kobayashi feed Miyajima-senpai?! My Miyajima-senpai, why didn't you pick me?!"
"Is he some kendo prodigy?"
"No way! Impossible!"
"He looks so… average."
Kobayashi Satoru—never a class star. Orphaned, shrouded in gloom, he lingered on the fringes, barely noticed.
Never the center of attention, just there.
Even for group projects, he paired with other stragglers.
How could this Satoru catch the eye of a "flower on a high peak" like Miyajima Sakura? Did he… have dirt on her?
The thought sent chills.
That's too dark!
But eyeing Satoru reading by the window, bangs hiding his brooding eyes, they couldn't help suspecting. He totally seems like the type.
They didn't know the old Satoru or talk much to the new one, yet "totally" slipped out with conviction.
Satoru didn't catch their murmurs.
Or if he did, he didn't care.
Reading, he mulled over yesterday, a twisted, pleased smirk forming—fueling their suspicions.
With Sakura in Shibuya…
So white, so big… hehe.
Her pure gaze, perfect figure, and graceful curves as she leaned in—they hooked his soul, tempting him.
One day, he thought, I'll bring it home, put it on my bed, and pet it.
Wait for me, Alpaca Prin—
"Man, you're living the life, Kobayashi!" Anji Seiji pouted, half-envious, half-whining. "So lucky!"
Satoru glanced up. "Lucky my ass."
"How's a guy get a girl to bed?" Seiji threw out, blunt.
Satoru shot back, "Check the telephone poles for 'high-paying baby-making' ads."
Seiji wailed, "They're all scams! Always some uncle asking if you want a bubble bath, discounts for memberships. No need to go—quality's gotta be trash."
Fair. Satoru nodded inwardly. If a sweet-voiced girl ran those ads, the staff wouldn't be uncles—they'd be F-tier at best.
"You actually called?" Satoru eyed Seiji, unimpressed.
Seiji clasped his hands, raising them like praying to a deity. "Aibo! No, Great God Kobayashi! Teach me how to score a cute girl!!"
Seiji used to think Satoru was like him—handsome but unappreciated. Lately, Satoru was on fire, not just handsome but swarmed by girls, even Miyajima Sakura! (Shocka-lad!)
Seiji was sure Satoru had a cheat code he wasn't sharing.
Satoru sighed, closing his book. "Fine, I'll teach you. The secret to picking up girls? Two words."
"Guide me, Master!" Seiji pleaded. "Is it… 'kindness'? But girls hate wishy-washy guys these days…"
"Central AC doesn't cut it," Satoru said cryptically.
"Money, then? Master, I'm just a high schooler with no income. Am I banking on Dad becoming a tycoon?"
"Shallow! That only attracts gold-diggers. True love's out of reach," Satoru said.
"I'm lost," Seiji admitted.
Satoru raised two fingers. "'Hot guy.'"
Seiji's eyes lit up, like clouds parting for the sun. Epiphany struck—then doubt. "But Master, am I not hot enough?"
Satoru studied Seiji's face, lips curling approvingly. "Heh."
"Hey! You're mocking me, aren't you?!" Seiji snapped.
"Just admiring your guts and confidence," Satoru said, smooth as silk.
"Hm? Is it my style?" Seiji rubbed his chin, inspecting himself. Can't be my face.
Satoru had no real pickup secrets. "Hot guy" was nonsense.
Handsome? Sure. But everyone here's been good-looking since birth, still grinding through life.
Sigh. Looks don't pay the bills.
Satoru went back to his book, fingers brushing the pages. Then, struck by a thought, he grabbed his notebook.
Riiip. He tore out a page.
"…What're you doing?" Seiji asked.
"This is paper. Tears easily, right?" Satoru ripped a corner off.
"Duh," Seiji said.
"Bet you can't tear this one," Satoru grinned mysteriously.
"Hey!" Seiji bristled. "Kobayashi, I'll give you that you're a tad hotter, but saying I can't tear paper? You're mocking my jacked biceps!"
"Wanna bet?"
"You're handing me money? No way I'm saying no!"
"Five hundred yen. You win, I pay a thousand," Satoru said.
"You got a thousand?" Seiji jabbed but slapped a 500-yen coin on the desk.
Satoru pulled a pristine A4 sheet from his drawer, untouched.
"Here."
"If I can't tear this, I'm not a man!"
Seiji grabbed it, smirking, tugging lightly. "…Huh?"
The paper didn't budge.
Something was off.
What?! Is this about to become a no-egg talk?!
…
…