A/N: Sorry for no uploads, It was Thanksgiving and I was not home at all to write any chapters since we flew to a relatives house for the week. I hope you can forgive me and enjoy the chapter!
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The final bell rang, sending Kosei's students into a flurry of movement and chatter. For most, it signaled the end of academic rigor and the beginning of club activities or social gatherings.
For Yoichi, it was his starting pistol.
Textbook, notebook, borrowed pencil—all disappeared into his bag in a methodical sequence that took less than fifteen seconds. While his classmates stretched and yawned and formed their little social clusters, Yoichi was already on his feet, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Freedom was just thirty steps away. The classroom door, then the main hallway, down the stairs, through the courtyard, and finally the school gates. After that, twenty-five minutes of blessed silence on the walk back to the penthouse.
He almost made it.
"Yo, Tanigawa! Wait up!"
Yoichi's hand froze on the classroom door. Four boys had materialized to block his path, forming a loose semicircle that cut off his escape route.
The one who'd called out to him stood slightly ahead of the others—average height, unremarkable features, wearing the standard uniform with the top button undone. His expression was a mixture of nervousness and forced bravado.
"Is it true you're living with the Nakano sisters?" the boy asked, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "All five of them?"
Yoichi assessed the group with a single, sweeping glance. The leader was flanked by three others: a tall, skinny boy with glasses; a heavyset kid with sweat beading on his forehead; and a short, weaselly-looking boy who was eyeing Yoichi with an unsettling intensity.
"Ask him if any of them look younger than they actually are," the heavyset one whispered, loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Yoichi's face remained impassive, but his internal thoughts were clear:
This one needs to be on a government watchlist. Immediately.
"I'm Junichi Hashiba, by the way," the leader continued, undeterred by Yoichi's silence. He gestured to the heavyset boy. "That's Minoru. We were just talking about something important, and since you're new, maybe you can settle our debate."
Junichi leaned in closer, his eyes alight with a peculiar fervor.
"So, Takamine-sama was wearing her usual today... which brings us to our philosophical question." He paused dramatically. "What's your take? Garters or stockings?"
The four boys stared at Yoichi expectantly, as if he held the answer to life's greatest mystery.
Yoichi didn't move. His face remained a cold mask of indifference as he regarded them with the mild interest one might show a particularly uninspired insect specimen. Not a muscle twitched in his expression.
His mind, however, was having a very different conversation with itself.
Garters. It's not even a contest. Stockings are fine, classic, but garters... Garters are a promise. The way they frame the thigh, the little bit of skin they reveal... it's a statement of intent.
A flash-memory of Takane from their tour—the audacious glimpse of her garter belt strap peeking above her thigh-high stockings as she climbed the stairs ahead of him.
And yeah, especially when the thigh meat is squishable—
Yoichi mentally shook himself.
What the hell am I even thinking? I need to get out of here.
"Hey, did you hear me?" Junichi pressed, his confidence wavering in the face of Yoichi's silence. "Garters or stockings?"
"Come on, man," Minoru wheedled, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "You live with five gorgeous girls. You must have opinions on this stuff."
Yoichi opened his mouth to deliver a response that would hopefully end this conversation forever, when a muscular arm slung itself around his shoulders.
"Hey, new guy! Don't let these weirdos corrupt you on your first day!"
The owner of the arm was the athletic boy who'd spoken to him earlier—sandy blond hair, bright eyes, and a wide, toothy grin that seemed to take up half his face.
"Come on, guys," the boy continued, addressing the quartet with the tone of someone scolding puppies. "Leave him alone, can't you see he's in a hurry to get home and... do homework?"
He said it with such genuine earnestness that Yoichi couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or sincere.
A few feet behind them, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, stood another boy. He had dark, messy hair that looked like it had never seen a comb, and heavy-lidded eyes that suggested he was either perpetually exhausted or terminally bored. He let out a massive, world-weary sigh.
"Troublesome," he muttered, with the tone of someone who found absolutely everything in the world to be exactly that.
The combined presence of these two newcomers—the popular jock and the slouching genius—seemed to have an immediate effect on the quartet. They exchanged nervous glances, then backed away like a flock of startled pigeons.
"We'll continue this philosophical debate another time," Junichi said, adjusting his collar. "Later, Tanigawa."
With that, the four scurried away, leaving Yoichi with his unexpected rescuers.
The athletic boy's arm remained firmly around Yoichi's shoulders. His grin was still in place, bright and uncomplicated.
"Don't mind them. They're harmless, mostly," he said. "I'm Yuji Shiroma, by the way! And this is Seiichi. Don't mind him either, he's always like that."
The dark-haired boy—Seiichi—made no attempt to either confirm or deny this assessment. He merely blinked slowly, as if the very act of keeping his eyes open required tremendous effort.
Before Yoichi could formulate a polite-but-dismissive response, a cheerful voice cut through the hallway chatter like a knife through butter.
"Yoichi-kun! Over here!"
Standing at the end of the hall, like a vision from his worst nightmare, were Ichika and Yotsuba. They'd clearly been waiting for him. Ichika leaned against the wall, one hip cocked, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. Beside her, Yotsuba was waving both arms over her head like she was signaling an aircraft carrier.
"We came to walk you home!" Yotsuba called, her voice carrying down the hallway with remarkable volume.
Several heads turned. Students who had been pointedly not staring at Yoichi all day now openly gaped, looking between him and the Nakano sisters with undisguised curiosity.
Ichika strolled over, her walk casual but purposeful. She glanced at Yuji's arm, still draped around Yoichi's shoulder, and gently removed it with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Ready to go home? Wouldn't want our new little brother getting lost on his first day."
Yotsuba bounded up to the group, her green ribbon bouncing with each step. Her eyes were bright with genuine enthusiasm.
"How was your first day? Did you make friends?" She looked directly at Yuji and Seiichi, including them in her megawatt smile. "Hi! I'm Yotsuba Nakano! Are you Yoichi's classmates?"
Yuji's eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard by Yotsuba's energy.
"Uh, yeah! I'm Yuji Shiroma. This is Seiichi Yamamoto." He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. "We're just being friendly, you know? Showing the new guy the ropes."
Seiichi, who had been staring at the ceiling as if contemplating the great mysteries of the universe, lowered his gaze to the Nakano sisters. He studied them for a moment, then shifted his eyes to Yoichi.
"Nakano sisters," he said, his voice quiet but perfectly audible. "Five identical quintuplets, each with distinguishing features chosen for maximum visual impact. Living with you. Interesting."
Ichika laughed. "Aren't you the smart one? Yes, Yoichi is staying with us for a while. Family arrangement." She linked her arm through Yoichi's. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we should be getting home."
"Wait!" Yuji stepped forward, his usual easy confidence replaced by something more hesitant. "Maybe we could all walk to the station together? I'm headed that way too."
"Me too," Seiichi added, surprising everyone. "My usual nap spot behind the gym was taken over by the gardening club today."
Yoichi looked at the chaotic scene around him—Ichika with her arm through his, Yotsuba bouncing on her toes, Yuji looking hopeful, and Seiichi looking... well, half-asleep but somehow also mildly interested.
His dream of a quiet, solitary walk home was in ashes. Hell, he didn't even need to go to the station!
"Sure," he said finally, his voice neutral. "Why not?"
The strange quintet made their way through the hallways, drawing stares and whispers. Yotsuba chatted animatedly with Yuji, who seemed both charmed and slightly overwhelmed by her energy. Ichika kept her arm firmly linked with Yoichi's, occasionally shooting glances at Seiichi, who trailed behind them like a particularly lethargic shadow.
"So," Ichika said quietly, for Yoichi's ears only. "Making friends already? That's unexpected."
Yoichi glanced at her. "They're not friends."
"No? Then what are they?"
Yoichi considered the question. Yuji had intervened when the perverted quartet cornered him. Seiichi had... well, Seiichi had sighed and looked bored, which was somehow still more helpful than anything else that had happened today.
"Less annoying than most," he finally replied.
Ichika laughed, genuinely this time. "High praise, coming from you."
Behind them, Seiichi had somehow found the energy to move closer. "Those four who were bothering you," he said, his voice still carrying that perpetual note of exhaustion, "The Perverted Quartet. They're harmless but persistent. They'll be back."
"The what now?" Ichika asked, turning to look at him.
"The Perverted Quartet," Seiichi repeated. "Self-appointed connoisseurs of the female form. They spend most of their time discussing the finer points of anime girl anatomy and rating the female student population. Today's debate was about Takamine-san's stockings. Last week it was about the optimal chest size for a girl's huggability."
"That's disgusting," Ichika said, her lip curling.
"That's high school," Seiichi countered with a shrug. "At least they keep it to talk. Mostly."
Ahead of them, Yotsuba had somehow convinced Yuji to demonstrate his basketball form in the middle of the hallway. He was pantomiming a jump shot while she clapped enthusiastically.
"You're amazing, Shiroma-kun! You should see our gym at home—it's huge! You could definitely practice there!"
"For real?" Yuji's eyes lit up. "That would be awesome!"
Yoichi closed his eyes briefly, already imagining the chaos of having these two strangers invade the penthouse.
What a drag.
As they reached the school gates, sunlight washed over them, warm and golden in the late afternoon. The cherry trees lining the path swayed gently in the breeze, scattering pink petals across their path.
"Oh!" Yotsuba suddenly exclaimed, pointing at her wrist watch. "I forgot—I have track practice! Coach will kill me if I'm late again!" She spun around, green ribbon whipping through the air. "Bye, Yoichi-kun! Bye, Shiroma-kun! Bye, Yamamoto-kun! Bye, Ichika!"
With that, she sprinted back toward the school at a speed that would make professional athletes envious.
"Is she always like that?" Yuji asked, watching her go with undisguised awe.
"Always," Ichika confirmed. "Actually, this was a calm day for her."
They continued toward the station, the group's dynamics shifting with Yotsuba's absence. Yuji walked alongside them, filling the silence with casual chatter about basketball, classes, and the upcoming cultural festival. Seiichi maintained his position a few steps behind, occasionally offering a monosyllabic comment when directly addressed.
As they reached the station, Ichika's phone buzzed. She checked it, then smiled apologetically.
"My manager," she explained. "I need to take this. Go ahead without me, Yoichi. I'll catch up." She stepped away, phone pressed to her ear.
Left alone with his two classmates, Yoichi finally asked the question that had been brewing since their intervention.
"Why did you step in earlier?"
Yuji looked surprised. "With those guys? Why wouldn't I? They're annoying."
Seiichi, who had found a vending machine to lean against, spoke without opening his eyes. "Because you looked like you were about to murder them, and murder is troublesome for everyone involved."
Yuji laughed. "What he said, kinda. Anyway, we're classmates now! That means we look out for each other."
Yoichi studied them both. Yuji's open, friendly face and Seiichi's perpetually exhausted one.
"Thanks," he said simply.
Yuji beamed, while Seiichi merely opened one eye to regard Yoichi lazily.
"Don't mention it," Seiichi said. "Seriously, don't. I have a carefully cultivated reputation for not caring about anything."
Yuji clapped Yoichi on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Tanigawa! Maybe we can eat lunch together?"
Before Yoichi could respond, Yuji was already jogging away, waving over his shoulder. Seiichi pushed himself off the vending machine with what appeared to be tremendous effort.
"Those sisters of yours," he said, his voice low. "Interesting dynamic. The short-haired one—Ichika—she's protective. Possessive, even. But not in a sisterly way."
He met Yoichi's gaze directly for the first time. "Complicated. But then again, everything is." With that cryptic observation, he shuffled away toward the station entrance.
Yoichi watched him go, suddenly aware that beneath Seiichi's lazy exterior lay a mind sharp enough to cut glass. Dangerous, in its own way.
And then there's Yuji, he thought. Simple, straightforward, friendly Yuji. Maybe too friendly.
Ichika reappeared at his side, tucking her phone away. "Sorry about that. Work stuff." She looked at him curiously. "Where did your new friends go?"
"They're not my friends," Yoichi repeated, though with less conviction than before.
Ichika smiled knowingly. "If you say so." She linked her arm through his again as they entered the station. "By the way, Nino texted. She's making curry for dinner. Says it's to welcome you properly to the family."
Yoichi raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried about poison?"
Ichika laughed. "With Nino? Always. But her food is worth the risk."
As they walked back home, Yoichi found himself thinking about the day's events. The Perverted Quartet. Takane's warning. Yuji's easy friendship and Seiichi's perceptive gaze. And now, apparently, a homecooked meal from the sister who hated him most.
First day at Kosei Academy: survived. Only two hundred and seventy-one days of school left to go.