Several hours of physical training dragged by, and the midday heat made the chain-link perimeter fences of the training field blindingly hot to the touch.
When the dismissal whistle finally sounded, the freshmen felt as though every ounce of their stamina had been thoroughly vacuumed out. Dragging legs that felt entirely like solid lead, they shuffled sluggishly toward the cafeteria, the backs of their training uniforms saturated with massive sheets of perspiration.
Among them, Jinpei Matsuda, Furuya Rei, and Hiromitsu Morofushi formed a slightly peculiar trio.
Given their standard stamina parameters, they wouldn't normally have been delayed this late just to get a meal. However, on the very first day of instruction, they had turned up with faces sporting a map of bruises unmistakably born from a brawl. Instructor Onizuka wasn't about to let Matsuda and Furuya off that easily, directly tacking several extra training modules onto their schedule.
Hiromitsu didn't want the instructor to give his childhood friend too difficult of a time, so he proactively volunteered to stay behind and complete the extra training alongside them. Witnessing such solidarity, Onizuka felt reasonably gratified and chose not to probe further into yesterday's events, waving his hand to dismiss them.
"Morofushi, you really are a loyal guy," Matsuda praised before muttering a complaint under his breath. "Unlike that fellow Hagi—completely heartless, leaving the second he was done."
Indeed, a small faction of students, including Hagiwara and Hisano, had wrapped up all their tasks twenty minutes prior and were dismissed ahead of schedule.
"Aren't you two excellent friends?" Furuya Rei feigned astonishment, quietly returning the exact words Matsuda had used to mock him previously: "Or could it be that you're a Husky abandoned by its owner?"
"Furuya Rei, are you looking for a beating?!"
After a brief bout of rowdiness, the three finally arrived at the cafeteria. Although the quality of the food left much to be desired, under this condition of extreme starvation, a completely ordinary bowl of beef donburi tasted like an absolute delicacy to them.
They managed to squeeze through the meal pickup counter with great difficulty, placing their loaded trays down at an open table.
If this had been shortly before when they were still at each other's throats, Matsuda would have flatly refused to share a table with Furuya. Yet, nobody anticipated that after acquiring a common "enemy," they would tacitly swallow their prior grievances. As the saying goes, getting into a fight together is nothing; getting utterly thrashed together is the true catalyst for becoming great bros.
"By the way, Morofushi, you and Hisano are roommates, right?"
The youth with grey-purple eyes nodded, chewing on a piece of tempura with elegant motions. "Yeah, what about it?"
Jinpei Matsuda didn't even notice the grain of rice stuck to his cheek, launching straight into a complaint: "Have you ever considered... that your roommate might actually be an alien?"
"With that massive training load this morning, he didn't shed a single drop of sweat. That is way too unscientific, isn't it?!"
Hiromitsu Morofushi pondered for a moment. "Perhaps that's just the level of someone with perfect scores on the physical test?"
Furuya Rei looked thoughtful. "Could it be that he used antiperspirant? No, that shouldn't be it."
"In any case, that guy is genuinely frustrating," Jinpei Matsuda remarked, feeling a bit of a sour taste in his mouth. "He said he was racing against me, yet he was deliberately holding back... As expected, he doesn't place anyone else in his eyes at all, does he?"
"No, it's not like that." Hiromitsu Morofushi defended his roommate. "Although we haven't interacted for long, I can perceive that he doesn't harbor any malicious intent; he's a very simple child. Is Matsuda-kun harboring some misunderstandings toward him?"
"A child? Who are you talking about?" A child capable of casually lifting several hundred pounds of dead weight? Matsuda's face completely read, 'Are you freaking kidding me?'
Furuya Rei was just about to counter Hiromitsu's point when he unexpectedly recalled the black-haired youth's downcast words when he had previously proposed changing rooms:
"This is the first time anyone has ever proactively invited me to go to the supermarket to buy ingredients, and then... share a meal together."
He couldn't verify the truth or falsehood of those words, but the other party's crimson eyes, which had been painted with absolute loneliness, were incredibly difficult to fake. It looked exactly like a berry frostbitten by snow on a winter night branch. Consequently, he halted his speech and silently continued to scarf down his food.
"I really don't understand you two..."
Well, maybe that fellow really was still a child—but without a doubt, the prefix "bratty" absolutely had to be tacked on.
Suddenly, Furuya Rei caught sight of something, looking toward a window table in the southwest corner. "Look over there. Don't those two individuals surrounded by girls look familiar?"
Jinpei Matsuda spotted his childhood friend at a single glance, dismissing it carelessly: "It's Hagiwara. I've been used to it for ages, that guy always prioritizes romance over friendship."
Hiromitsu Morofushi froze for a moment. "Eh? The one next to him is..."
Nozomi-kun?
A short distance away, Kenji Hagiwara was propping his chin in his hand, flashing a charming smile at the four beautiful girls sitting opposite him. The red-eyed youth with his hair tied in a low ponytail yawned beside him, slouching his entire frame against the back of the chair as he poked a piece of tamagoyaki on his plate with a fork.
The girls' laughter rang out like silver bells coated in honey, causing half the cafeteria to glance over in that direction.
"Hagi and Hisano? How on earth did those two end up mixing together?" Matsuda opened his mouth wide, suddenly feeling like his lunch wasn't quite as appetizing anymore.
Furuya Rei could inexplicably comprehend Matsuda's current state of mind. It was essentially: 'Huh? Where did my massive childhood friend go?'
...What a vivid sense of deja vu.
To uncover the underlying truth, one had to wind the clock back twenty minutes.
Hagiwara had been highly intrigued by yesterday's events, so he pro-actively struck up a conversation with Satoru Gojo on the way to the cafeteria, chatting along. Naturally, Satoru Gojo was equally interested in harvesting his Impression Points.
Hagiwara's personality inherently shared a few similarities with his own; he didn't feel the least bit offended by the fact that the youth's words easily provoked people. On the contrary, he let out a hearty laugh: "Hisano-kun, you really are quite humorous."
One could only say he truly deserved his status as a man with maxed-out social capabilities. Gojo likewise found it difficult to unearth a reason to dislike him. Within less than half an hour, the two had become visibly well-acquainted.
However, during lunch, Hagiwara discovered a major anomaly—the degree to which he was favored by the female students appeared to have suddenly plummeted.
Generally speaking, as long as he sat there and delivered a gentlemanly smile to passing women, nine times out of ten they would harbor a favorable impression of him, and his phone directory might even gain an extra entry. Yet today, the number of girls proactively inviting him to share a meal was unexpectedly low, as if his affectionate, willow-leaf eyes were no longer universally invincible.
Fortunately, Hagiwara quickly deduced where the problem lay. This is undeniably tied to Hisano!
Looking at the black-haired youth who was likewise encircled by several girls, he had to admit the other party possessed an exceptionally handsome face. Furthermore, it was a highly sought-after baby-face archetype. Dashing guys weren't scarce in the police academy, but a younger, puppy-dog archetype like Hisano was practically a rare find. Even if his speech during the opening ceremony had been conceited enough to make people keep their distance, an aesthetic advantage wasn't something that could be dismissed by a few words.
Even someone as slightly volatile as Little Jinpei was still favored by many members of the opposite sex. Unfortunately, that guy didn't care about romance at all, nor did he know how to interact with girls like Hagiwara did.
"Hey, hey, Hisano-kun, how old are you this year?"
"Did you graduate from Todai? That's amazing, what major did you study?"
"The ribbon on your head is so cute—"
To maintain the avatar's image as a "solitary genius," Satoru Gojo appeared somewhat unaccustomed to the attention, deliberately responding to these questions at a sluggish pace. If this had been his original body where he could let himself fly completely free, he could have easily coaxed the young women until their hearts bloomed with joy. But right now, there was no necessity for it; he needed to appropriately rein in his charm.
If Gin were to see him like this, he would undoubtedly let out a cold snort: "Pretentious phoney."
As more and more girls gathered around Hisano, a long-absent sense of crisis began to spread through Kenji Hagiwara. ...Wait, this might not necessarily be a bad thing.
He suddenly experienced a flash of inspiration, offering a polite apology to the girls sharing their table, indicating he would return shortly. Following that, he quietly tapped Hisano's shoulder.
"Want to go to the restroom together? I have a few words I'd like to say to you."
Out of pure curiosity, Satoru Gojo agreed to Hagiwara's request. This guy couldn't possibly be trying to issue some sort of challenge letter just because I thrashed Matsuda, right?
As it turned out, Hagiwara's very first sentence was: "Hisano-kun, do you want to date anyone?"
"Huh?"
Don't tell me your next line is 'How about dating me instead'. No, no, no, he couldn't let himself get brainwashed by those shipping fans on the forum. Satoru Gojo shook the bizarre concepts out of his head. "I have no such plans."
"Since that's the case..." Hagiwara gripped his hand with utmost solemnity, stating with profound sincerity, "Then, be my wingman!"
"???"
Broadly speaking, a "wingman" referred to someone who assisted a friend in securing dating opportunities while remaining on the sidelines to offer their blessings. Even with a mental capacity as robust as Gojo's, he couldn't fathom what Hagiwara was plotting.
"Look, both of us are highly popular, aren't we?" Hagiwara explained seriously. "If we become partners, even more girls will inevitably be drawn over."
He could tell that Hisano Nozomi didn't actively repel these interactions like Little Jinpei did, yet lacked any intention of pursuing a relationship with anyone. He was the absolute perfect fit to act as his wingman. Although Hagiwara didn't temporarily harbor any intentions of pursuing anyone specific either, what if he ran into his fated maiden at some point?
Satoru Gojo shrugged. "What's in it for me?"
Hagiwara wasted no words, pulling out a handful of free tasting coupons for a dessert shop. "Got them from a friend... I haven't really used them. Do you want them?"
The black-haired youth propped his chin in his hand, casting aside his reserve: "I suddenly feel like being a wingman sounds quite entertaining."
[Ding! Impression Points from plot character Kenji Hagiwara increased by 500 points!]
Just like that, a transactional deal occurring inside a restroom... no, a wingman transaction, reached a flawless conclusion.
Exactly as Hagiwara had anticipated, after he and Hisano announced they were joining tables, even more girls gathered the courage to crowd around. Everyone sat clustered together, laughing and bantering, nearly blocking the two from view entirely.
"However, this is precisely what they call a sweet torment." Hagiwara clinked his oolong tea against the strawberry milk carton in Gojo's hand, offering a quick wink. "Hisano-kun, wouldn't you agree?"
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