Brilliant High School, Class 2-C.
Leisure time after the first period.
Aozawa reached out and patted the shoulder of Hojo Tetsuji, the classmate beside him. "Hey, Hojo, class is over. Wake up and let's shoot the breeze."
Hojo Tetsuji wore sunglasses, making it impossible to tell if his eyes were open or closed. Only when he raised his head and stretched broadly did it become clear he had awakened.
"Finally, it's over. What terrifying hypnosis."
Aozawa retorted, "Seriously, why do you even come to class?"
Hojo Tetsuji pushed up his sunglasses, his expression very serious. "Naturally, for the sake of studying."
The red marks from where his cheek had rested on his hand were still visible, making his claim utterly unconvincing.
Aozawa shook his head. For someone who dislikes studying yet still insists on coming to class every day, there could only be one reason.
"Hojo, you like one of the girls in class, don't you?"
"You—how did you know?!"
A look of utter shock crossed Hojo Tetsuji's face. He thought he had hidden his little crush well, but it had been exposed.
Could it be this guy can read minds?
"Damn it, I was careless! Stop invading my brain, you rascal!" Hojo Tetsuji suddenly exclaimed. He then remembered something he'd heard on TV: at times like this, a person could prevent mind-reading by entering a state of emptiness and clearing their mind.
He began to chant "Namu Amida Butsu" repeatedly, trying to deflect Aozawa's supposed mind-reading.
Watching his foolish antics, Aozawa could only lament. When the inherently dim-witted Hojo Tetsuji met Japan's 'relaxed' education system, the result wasn't simply one plus one equals two; it was something far worse. He'll never make a living using his brain in this lifetime.
Aozawa didn't bother explaining that he couldn't read minds. His gaze shifted to the girl at the desk in front of him.
Her golden hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall.
When sunlight streamed into the classroom from the window, her golden hair would shine brilliantly, looking exceptionally beautiful. But it wasn't that time yet.
Aozawa rested his head on his desk. Bored, he began to meticulously count the girl's strands of hair.
Phoenix Academy Maggie hadn't left her seat. It was obvious she had no friends. Class cliques often solidified on the first day of new class assignments. A girl who transferred on the third day, especially one this beautiful, would certainly find no other girls willing to approach her. Or perhaps, the fact she wasn't being bullied already meant she was quite lucky.
Aozawa mused, I should make friends with her. After all, I can't spend every break just lying here counting her hair. "Hey, Phoenix Academy," he called out, "have you heard about the Kita-Senju incident?"
***
Phoenix Academy Maggie was reading a book—or rather, pretending to read, to avoid giving the impression that she was just sitting there daydreaming, looking pitifully friendless.
Even in such dire straits, she didn't want to acknowledge the boy behind her or talk to her deskmate. The guy at the desk behind her was a strange fellow; who knew what went on in his head. And her deskmate, with his sunglasses and mustache, looked like an old man. Is this guy really a high school student? Phoenix Academy Maggie felt she was truly down on her luck to have ended up with this illustrious pair. What was even more unfortunate was that the guy behind her actually wanted to talk to her.
Her good upbringing prevented her from ignoring a harmless attempt at conversation. She turned slightly, her bright eyes looking at the boy behind her.
He had a neat buzz cut, and his smile was as clear as an unpolluted lake.
"I've heard about the incident in Kita-Senju. Is there a problem?"
"What's your opinion on Iwaai Takehiro?"
Aozawa wanted to chat to pass the time, so he naturally picked the hottest topic at the moment.
"A reformed coward," Phoenix Academy Maggie stated her assessment.
She had read the police's follow-up reports and had a different perspective on Iwaai Takehiro's life.
"Many devout people online praise Iwaai Takehiro's transformation as divine redemption. Otherwise, how could a gambler become so brave and fearless?"
In Phoenix Academy Maggie's eyes, he was just a coward who, upon realizing his mistakes, desperately tried to make amends.
If he truly had courage, he should have decisively stayed away from gambling dens like Pachinko parlors before things got out of hand, rather than waiting until his family was destroyed to cry with regret, lamenting that he shouldn't have acted that way in the first place.
Aozawa, a hint of interest in his eyes, chuckled. "The folks online say he was called by God. You don't think so?"
"I don't believe in God."
Phoenix Academy Maggie was a staunch atheist.
She believed 'God' was merely a spiritual comfort invented by the weak and powerless to escape their own helplessness. Churches, in her view, exploited people's inner weaknesses for their own gain.
"If there's no God, then how do you explain Iwaai Takehiro taking down so many Yakuza by himself?" Aozawa, playing the contrarian, pressed further.
Hojo Tetsuji, who had almost fallen asleep nearby, perked up at a topic he was familiar with and joined in. "What's so difficult about that? I often fight dozens of people by myself."
"You're an exception. Not everyone can fight like you," Aozawa said. He was just ribbing Hojo Tetsuji, not actually doubting him.
Because he had personally seen Hojo take down dozens of people bare-handed, and he was still just a high school student. In any delinquent school manga, this guy would have been the perfect protagonist. But since his dream wasn't to dominate Japan's delinquents, he missed his shot at the main character spot.
"Heh." Phoenix Academy Maggie's smile was gentle, but she didn't believe a word of it. One person fighting dozens? Such modest bragging. Claiming to have taken down a thousand would have sounded far more impressive.
"I suspect it's due to adrenaline," Phoenix Academy Maggie continued, sharing her thoughts on Iwaai Takehiro's fighting prowess. "The intense hatred and anger must have caused a rapid surge in Iwaai Takehiro's adrenaline, like being on a stimulant, making him forget the pain. However, that's just my personal guess. The actual findings would depend on the police's autopsy."
"The police can't possibly conduct an autopsy on him, can they? Right now, those fanatics are crowding the streets, claiming they need to protect his body. From the videos I've seen, the police seem less effective than those believers."
Phoenix Academy Maggie fell silent for a moment, then sighed. "That is indeed a problem."
The inability to get a definitive conclusion and verify her own words made her slightly agitated. She wished she could become a forensic pathologist herself and rush over to perform the autopsy. But since she hadn't studied the relevant field, she had to abandon that impulsive thought.
The conversation had hit an insurmountable barrier. Aozawa casually changed the subject. "Phoenix Academy, where did you get your hair dyed?"
Phoenix Academy Maggie answered truthfully, "I'm of mixed Japanese and American heritage. My hair isn't dyed."
"I thought so. If it were dyed, the color wouldn't be this naturally beautiful."
"Heh." She chuckled. She wasn't sure whether to be pleased or offended. Commenting on a girl's hair color to her face like that felt a bit inappropriate. However, looking at Aozawa's open, unreserved smile, she sensed no malice and decided to take it as a well-intentioned compliment.