Chapter Thirteen: The Mysterious Classmate

After sending off Kurorai Tokiko, Anwa shared breakfast with Sayo Amamiya. Perhaps because of the unpleasant events at school the day before, Sayo had no intention of attending classes today. Seeing this, Anwa didn’t press the issue. He simply reminded her to stay safe at home and then changed into his uniform to head for school.

But when he opened the bag that Kurorai Tokiko had brought him, he was taken aback. Inside, along with his uniform, were a pair of white socks and a pair of black stockings. Next to the stockings was a note.

The white socks were familiar—Sayo Amamiya’s, the very pair Anwa had meant to bring her yesterday. After all, wearing leather shoes barefoot could be uncomfortable, but he’d gotten busy and forgotten. As for the black stockings... If he wasn’t mistaken, Anwa guessed these were the ones Kurorai Tokiko herself had worn yesterday.

But why was she giving him her stockings? He was at a loss, but soon picked up the note wrapped in the black stockings. The small slip of paper was densely covered in delicate handwriting.

“Anwa, the socks smell lovely. If I’m not mistaken, they belong to Miss Amamiya from yesterday, right? Now you’ve discovered my secret, and I’ve found out yours. Let’s keep each other’s secrets, okay? As for the stockings, consider them a little hush money from me.”

“???”

Half an hour later.

Kinami High School, Class 2-B.

The moment he stepped into the classroom, a narrator’s voice echoed in Anwa’s mind.

“Back row by the window, the birthplace of kings; as one destined to rule, how could you allow another to claim your throne?”

What on earth? Anwa was surprised that the narration sounded so serious for once, but his eyes still drifted to the second-to-last seat in the fourth row from the back.

There sat a girl with fair skin and cropped hair, wearing a bright orange hoodie, chatting with Keiko Kita, whom Anwa had met yesterday. Keiko was perched on Anwa’s desk.

With a raised eyebrow, Anwa walked over. As he approached, he overheard their conversation.

“Kita, you’d better get down. If Anwa sees you sitting on his desk, he’ll be upset.”

“Oh, don’t fuss! I’m just sitting for a moment. Besides, Yusei and I are good friends. He won’t mind.”

“But—”

The short-haired girl seemed about to say more, but caught sight of Anwa and fell silent. Keiko Kita also noticed him, and immediately hopped off the desk. She bounced over with a grin.

“Yusei, good morning!”

“Morning, Kita,” Anwa replied with a smile, then turned to the shy, short-haired girl. “And you are?”

“Hello, Anwa. My name is Ryosuke Kawanohara.”

“What?”

Anwa’s eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the petite figure before him—the other had just used the masculine form of “I.”

“You’re a boy?”

Ryosuke Kawanohara hesitated at the question, but before he could answer, Keiko Kita burst out laughing.

“Haha, so you thought Ryosuke was a girl at first glance too, Yusei?”

“Kita!” Ryosuke protested, stamping his foot in frustration—which, given his small and adorable appearance, only made him look more like a girl.

“All right, all right, I’ll stop—hahaha!”

Keiko tried to contain herself but couldn’t help laughing again at Ryosuke’s blushing, indignant face.

Seeing this, Anwa quietly returned to his seat.

“Ryosuke Kawanohara? Rather a cute boy. A change of pace isn’t bad sometimes, and with that personality, you could easily win him over. Of course, you’ll need to prepare two bottles of—”

The chime of the class bell abruptly cut off the narrator’s philosophical tangent.

As Keiko and Ryosuke left, still bickering, Anwa’s gaze unconsciously dropped to Ryosuke’s legs.

Hm, he was wearing shorts to school in November—and not even knee-length. His legs were paler and slimmer than most girls’. Anwa shuddered involuntarily. As the saying goes, a boy in knee-high shorts is either a future heartbreaker or... something else. Anwa decided he’d better keep his distance.

Soon, the first period teacher entered the room.

Roll call as usual.

There were thirty-six students in the class, thirty-five present, one absent. The empty seat was right behind Anwa, whom he’d never seen since transferring in. According to classmates, the student had been skipping school for two weeks now.

Anwa could more or less guess the reason from the things he’d heard—mostly derogatory remarks about the student behind him: a mute who couldn’t speak, a reeking vagrant, a crazy woman who never combed her hair, an annoying pest always bothering others.

He was all too familiar with this sort of thing from his previous life, for he’d been a victim himself...

After roll call, the teacher began the lesson.

It was English, a class that often lulled students to sleep. At least, that was true for everyone else.

“Damn it! This bald-headed teacher looks so honest, but deep down he’s rotten. He knows full well that morning classes make people sleepy, but he still insists on using English as a lullaby. You swear, if you ever get the chance, you’ll pay him back by visiting his wife for some compensation. Conveniently, you’ve heard from the grapevine that his wife goes to a yoga studio every afternoon. You could use yoga lessons as an excuse to get close, and then...”

The wise narrator’s voice in his mind kept Anwa entertained, despite its irreverence.

And so, the school day quickly passed.

After classes, Anwa declined Keiko Kita’s invitation again and headed home alone.

He inserted the key and opened the door.

Inside, the apartment was spotless, everything arranged with perfect order. For a moment, Anwa wondered if he had the wrong place. He stepped back out and checked the doorplate: 403.

No mistake—this was his place, and he’d opened it with his own key.

Perplexed, he entered again and soon spotted a girl kneeling in the corner, energetically scrubbing the floor beneath a table.

“Sayo?”

He called softly. She looked up instinctively—and promptly bumped her head against the table with a thud.

Several minutes later.

Sitting on her knees before him, Sayo Amamiya let Anwa rub the sore spot on her head as he asked with curiosity, “What made you decide to clean? I don’t remember the place being dirty.”

“I had nothing to do,” Sayo replied simply.

Glancing around, Anwa had to agree. Apart from a television, there was nothing else entertaining in his home.

Remembering that he’d be heading off to work soon, leaving Sayo alone again, Anwa hesitated, then made a sudden suggestion.

“How about coming with me to work? You can just relax there, and after I get off we can stop by a bookstore. I’ll buy you some manga or novels, so you’ll have something to do during the day and won’t get bored.”