Ryunosuke was so incensed he felt like his lungs might actually burst; his only desire was to strike those two from his existence. However, just as he turned to storm out, Ayanokouji caught his arm, his voice a calm anchor of persuasion.
"You don't want to get stronger? I can teach you."
Ryunosuke froze. "You can teach? Then why the hell didn't you say so from the start?! I've been a punching bag for these two because of you!"
He jabbed a finger toward Ibuki and Hiratsuka, who were still doubled over with laughter. Ayanokouji maintained a mask of pure innocence.
"You never asked, did you?"
The two prepared to leave together, with Ayanokouji officially taking the reins of the training. The primary objective: fortifying Ryunosuke's fragile constitution.
Ayanokouji realized that under normal conditions, Ryunosuke's physical durability was lower than that of an average girl. To be precise, he occupied the absolute bottom tier of human fitness. It was a statistical anomaly that left even the Masterpiece baffled.
(How did you manage to train yourself into being this pathetic?)
Ryunosuke's inner voice countered: (When I was a kid, I couldn't even get a full meal most days—where was I supposed to find time for a workout? I'm just grateful I survived.)
Physical strength is inextricably linked to nutrition. Without proper fuel during his formative years, Ryunosuke's body had subconsciously activated "power-saver mode"—the lowest possible energy consumption standard—just to keep him from starving. His baseline physical state was a ruin, a direct consequence of an extreme past.
Yet, this only highlighted the terrifying nature of Ryunosuke's talent. If he could achieve what he had while starting from zero, then with formal training, Ayanokouji might truly find a peer.
And that was exactly what Ayanokouji craved. He longed for an equal, having stood at the summit alone for far too long. He wanted to know the taste of defeat—to prove that his father's ideology, the very foundation of the White Room, was fundamentally flawed.
It was an obsession. In the future, if his father offered him Ryunosuke as an opponent with the prize of freedom—even if he knew it was a lie—Ayanokouji would likely take the bait. Even if the chance of success was a mere 0.01%, he would pursue it.
Such was the nature of Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. On the surface, he seemed to have escaped his father's grasp. In reality, the shackles remained. His father's influence was woven so deeply into his soul that it could never be fully purged. Perhaps... he was already beyond saving.
Ayanokouji observed Ryunosuke's form, drafting a specialized regimen tailored to his weak frame.
10-kilometer run daily.
100 push-ups and 100 sit-ups daily.
This was the core menu, a test of long-term consistency. There was no alternative. Ayanokouji wanted to crank up the intensity, but his friend's body simply wasn't ready for more.
While Chuunibyou Mode could bypass these physical hurdles, Ayanokouji saw it as a temporary fix. He wanted to raise Ryunosuke's base attributes. Imagine if the baseline stats increased, and then the 545% Chuunibyou multiplier was applied. His power would skyrocket exponentially. That was the master plan.
Ryunosuke didn't slack off. He was acutely aware of the chasm between himself and the top-tier fighters. In the duel against Yagami, he hadn't lasted a full minute. He didn't even want to imagine facing someone stronger than Yagami—someone like Ayanokouji. He probably wouldn't survive 30 seconds.
While Ryunosuke preferred to rely on his wits, he understood that physical power was the ultimate veto. If an opponent refused to play the game of minds and simply flipped the table, a "civilian" strategist would end up as nothing more than a punching bag. Ryunosuke refused to let that happen again.
It was just like the incident with Tsukishiro; Ryunosuke wanted to play a beautiful game by the rules, but the opponent had no ethics and wielded absolute power. That power had slapped Ryunosuke across the face and woken him up.
The house makes the rules, so why would they play fair with you? If you have power and don't use it, you're a fool. If Ryunosuke hadn't taken the massive risk of threatening the entire second-year class with expulsion, he might never have toppled Tsukishiro.
Furthermore, he realized the White Room's crosshairs seemed to be centering on him. The fruit knife had been stolen from his own room, almost certainly the work of the little devil, Amasawa Ichika. As for why he was the target, he was still in the dark.
Ichika's target should have been Ayanokouji—why was the spearhead pointed at him? He didn't think he'd gone looking for trouble with anyone. Ryunosuke lacked self-awareness in that regard, but he knew one thing for certain: from now on, he had to be wary of Ichika and Yagami.
After finishing the daily grind, Ryunosuke prepared to head out. Ayanokouji offered a rare word of encouragement.
"Train every day. Don't get lazy. Who knows? Maybe one day you'll actually surpass me." Ayanokouji half-joking.
Ryunosuke just waved him off, not taking the bait.
Seeing that dusk was falling, he invited Ayanokouji over for dinner as a reward for the coaching. Ayanokouji's eyes practically twinkled. The two walked off, arms over shoulders like brothers, disappearing into the twilight glow.
This scene was caught clearly by Ichika, who was lurking in the shadows. A surge of jealousy flared in her chest.
"Must be nice~ getting to have dinner with Ayanokouji-senpai... I'm so jealous I could die..."
Ichika was visibly displeased. Why did this loser—the one she'd nearly framed for expulsion—get to dine with the senior she worshipped? She felt it was a cosmic injustice and immediately began plotting another prank to vent her frustration on Ryunosuke.
◆━⊰✿✧✿⊱━◆
The next morning.
Ichika was waiting right outside his door. The moment Ryunosuke opened it and saw those reddish-purple twin tails, he slammed the door shut.
"Tch, what a nightmare..."
"Why is my luck so rotten? Is she stalking me?"
Ryunosuke felt a headache coming on; he had to get to class. Resigning himself to fate, he cracked the door open slightly, but Ichika was faster. She jammed her hand into the gap, holding the door open with terrifying strength.
The pressure was so great that in his normal state, Ryunosuke couldn't budge it. In a panic, he activated Chuunibyou Mode and threw his weight against the door to force it shut, but—
"Aaaaaah!"
A piercing scream rang out. Ichika's hand had been caught in the frame. She shrieked in pain; she hadn't expected his strength to spike so suddenly. Caught off guard, her hand was crushed in the door, and her eyes welled with tears from the stinging agony.
Overcome with guilt, Ryunosuke had no choice but to let her inside. He pulled out a first-aid kit to treat the swelling and provide emergency care. Ichika stared at the back of her inflamed, red hand, her face a picture of tragic sorrow.
"Akasaka-senpai, you're so mean! Why would you treat me like this?"
Ryunosuke scoffed while wrapping the bandage.
"Your own fault. Who told you to try and get me expelled?"
"I almost lost everything because of your little stunt."
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