Language Arts.
"Kuroba-kun, why don't you read this paragraph for us? Don't worry if you stumble—sensei will be right here to help you!"
"…"
With the dead eyes of a man being marched to the gallows, Kuroba Akira read the passage at lightning speed, earning yet another wave of applause from the whole class.
Then this same scene repeated—three more times.
Clenching his jaw in silent agony, Akira wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into Kobayakawa Motoko's twin snowballs and leave claw marks on them, so she could understand what real pain was. Tit for tat… literally!
...
Math.
"This problem… hmm, let's have Kuroba-kun answer it."
"Sensei, I really don't know this one…"
Don't come to me! I gave all this math nonsense back to that weirdo teacher who made me sit in the 'zero row' years ago!
"I see. No problem. You answered very well—keep up the good work. This problem isn't too difficult. Since you got into this school, your brain can't be half-bad. I'm sure you'll be able to solve it next time."
The math teacher nodded, visibly pleased, and gave him some words of encouragement.
"…"
...
Japanese History.
"Kuroba-kun, do you know what sparked the rise of modern Japan?"
"Uh… the Meiji Restoration?"
"Close, but not quite. I said modern, not early modern. The correct answer is the 'Anrin Uprising.' After that, several conglomerates were nationalized, marking the start of Japan's dual-track economic system. That's when our infrastructure really began to take off. Everyone, make sure you remember this—it's a frequent exam question!"
The what now? Never even heard of that crap!
"Even though Kuroba-kun got it wrong, that's okay. Just remember it next time. Great try! Make sure to keep paying attention in class, okay?"
The history teacher gave him two thumbs up.
"…"
...
Morning classes ended, and inside Kuroba Akira's mind, a thousand wild caonima were stampeding.
Damn it! What is with these teachers?! One after another, all lining up to publicly execute me! Do I look like a chatbot to you people?!
It made sense that Kobayakawa Motoko would call on him—she was the one who dragged him out of silence—but why did the other two join the party?
You didn't even need to think about it to know the answer. She probably ran straight to the faculty room after first period and started bragging to her coworkers: "You know that mute kid in my class? He finally spoke! All thanks to me! My perseverance paid off!" and so on…
Teachers loved redemption arcs. The problem child turning over a new leaf? That was their favorite kind of story. And just like that, what started as Kobayakawa Motoko's personal crusade had gone viral among the entire teaching staff.
The thought that more teachers would come bug him in the future, making his school life a living hell, made Akira want to do unspeakable things to Kobayakawa Motoko—flip the script, reverse roles, slam her down on the podium and thoroughly educate her. A true discipline-your-teacher kind of scenario.
To be honest, having a teacher set their sights on you was a real pain in the ass.
Back in his previous life, Akira had been a good student—his homeroom teacher doted on him because of that.
But when he entered second year of high school, his family ran into some trouble, and he lost all motivation to study.
So what did that oh-so-responsible teacher do? She gave him special attention and moved him to the so-called "zero row"—a solo desk placed in front of the first row, right under the blackboard.
Right in front of the class rep. Directly under the teacher's nose. Like some interrogation room setup.
Thanks to that nightmare, he couldn't sleep through class anymore and got force-fed knowledge until he actually passed the university entrance exam—just enough to snag a job at a game company…
And then dropped dead from overwork.
Looking back, it was all that meddling teacher's fault. If not for that damn butterfly effect, Akira might've never worked himself to death!
If he'd just been a dumb slacker, maybe he wouldn't have gotten any decent job offers in the first place. Maybe he'd still be alive.
So it's all the homeroom teacher's fault!
Same thing this time around.
Akira rolled his eyes mentally. This is why these fiery newbie teachers who can't read the room are the worst. They have no idea how students actually feel.
A big-boobed, black-stockinged bimbo like you? You should be shoved onto the teacher's desk and— No, no, better not finish that thought. He'd already mentally violated Kobayakawa Motoko dozens of times this morning. Enough was enough.
Now his stomach was growling with rage and hunger.
Lunch time.
Thinking about how he'd be getting the class rep's bento from today onward did lift his spirits a little.
But then a new question hit him—how was he supposed to get the bento?
Akira didn't think the class rep would come find him for lunch.
He remembered clearly—yesterday, she'd said the reason she didn't recruit anyone from class for the Literature Club was to avoid disrupting class dynamics. That's why she approached Akira, who was outside of all the friend groups, and even gave him a little "leverage" to seal the deal.
In other words, she definitely didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea about their relationship.
And asking a guy to lunch in front of the whole class? That would definitely give people the wrong idea.
Even eating together elsewhere risked being seen.
So lunching together was out.
Most likely, this would be a covert exchange: the class rep would drop off the bento at some designated spot, and Akira would retrieve the "takeout."
But they hadn't exchanged contact info yesterday, so he had no clue where the drop-off would be.
A landmark, then… somewhere obvious.
Akira thought it over and came up with one good spot: the shoe lockers.
In Japanese high school culture, shoe lockers were practically sacred ground—where love letters, challenge notes, Valentine's chocolate, and Christmas presents all got stashed. Sometimes even bullying started there.
Perfect place for a secret lunch drop.
Having reached that conclusion, Akira stood up to head toward the shoe lockers—only to be stopped by a voice behind him.
"Kuroba-kun, want to have lunch together?"
The skinny, bespectacled boy sitting behind Akira had invited him.
Akira recognized the face—after all, the guy sat right behind him—but couldn't remember his name.
"Sorry, um… you are?"
Seeing Akira hesitate, the glasses boy gave a wry smile.
"I've been sitting behind you for a whole semester, and you still don't know my name? Am I really that forgettable…?"
Akira scratched the back of his head apologetically.
"Sorry, how should I put it… I didn't have the bandwidth to remember people's names before. Could you tell me again?"
Glasses-kun had to summon all his courage to talk to Akira. Up until now, Akira had always kept a cold face and avoided everyone. He thought Akira was just a scary delinquent.
But then Kobayakawa-sensei's speech yesterday changed everything. Glasses-kun really believed Akira was recovering from a serious illness—and he was genuinely glad to see him getting better.
"Um, my name's Fujiyoshi Michio. Nice to meet you, Kuroba-kun."
"Got it. Nice to meet you too, Fujiyoshi-kun."
"So, want to eat lunch together? I've noticed you don't usually bring a lunch… Is there no one at home to make one for you?"
"Yeah, that old lady at home doesn't give a damn if I live or die. Doesn't even give me lunch money."
"I see…"
Fujiyoshi Michio gave him a shy smile.
"If you don't mind… I could share mine with you? My mom says I'm too skinny, so she always packs this huge lunchbox. I can never finish it…"
"Huh?"
Did I… just score a free lunch that easily?
So the guy behind me was a Grade-A Nice Guy this whole time?! If I'd known, I would've talked to him ages ago—even if I sucked at speaking!
Though… there's still the class rep's bento…
No problem. I'll eat both!
Akira decided to accept Fujiyoshi's offer first, then go fetch the other one. Just as he was about to speak—
"Wait a moment."
In full view of the class, Anri Hitomi approached, carrying an extravagant three-tiered bento box and smiling sweetly.
"Kuroba-kun… didn't we agree to have lunch together?"
"Huh?"
Akira made a dumbfounded sound.
But even in his moment of brain lag, he could still tell—
The class rep's eyes weren't smiling.
They were radiating danger.
As if to say: Don't want the lunch I worked so hard to make? Sounds like you're asking to collect your final bento… as in, a death flag.