I knew that with a guy like Oyamada, getting involved would probably just make things worse. If someone at the top of the class hierarchy like Sogou can’t face off against him, what’s a guy at the very bottom supposed to do?
She seems off today, and her face is kinda red…oh, I get it. She’s embarrassed she got caught reading romance novels, huh? Her comebacks are usually more confident than this, but I guess he got to her today…
She might actually be kinda cute.
“Oyamada, come on. Just give it back to her.”
I also feel bad for her.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Huh?”
That voice defending her…that was me.
What…? What am I doing? Why am I standing up?
“Mimori…Touka-kun, isn’t it? So, er…what’s your problem, man?” Oyamada asked, surprised. He would be surprised—a background character like me didn’t stand up to him every day. The whole atmosphere of the bus had changed—all eyes were glued to me. Sweat prickled on my forehead.
“Uh…it just looks like Sogou-san really wants you to stop, so…” I trailed off.
“You—” Oyamada started.
“Huh?”
He was shaking like Jell-O right out of the mold.
“Oooh, l-look at Mister Cool Guy over here!” he taunted, pointing at me and getting more worked up every moment. “You wanna walk the path of L-O-V-E with Sougo-san? That it? Is that what’s givin’ you the strength to be so unbelievably cool right now, Mimori-senpai?! What is this, ‘Rise of the Background Characters’?!”
“Mimori-kun…?”
Sogou turned toward me with a concerned look on her face. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one…but I hoped it was the former.
Okay, how does Mimori Touka get himself out of this one?
“Give it back to her, Shougo.” That was a lifeline from Kirihara—not even Oyamada could talk back to him.
“You’re right, Takuto. We should get to know this cool new Mimori-senpai instead, huh?” Oyamada replied.
“Leave me out of it. I don’t care about guys like him.”
“Whoa, that’s cold, man. I guess that’s the real difference between you and me—I can’t match that level of cool.”
“Do whatever you want about Mimori, just give Sogou her book back already. I don’t like it when you do stuff like this.”
Some of the other students, mostly the girls, stared longingly at Kirihara and whispered among themselves about how kind he was. Oyamada whapped Sogou on the shoulder with her novel a few times.
“Sorry ’bout that, Sogou. I got a little carried away. But you’re a nice enough person to forgive me, right?”
Sogou snatched back her book and glared at him. Oyamada held his hands over his head in surrender.
“I said I was sorry. Jeez…”
Sogou quietly put the novel back in her bag. She seemed to have lost her appetite for reading.
Sogou Ayaka wasn’t just academic and attractive—she also knew ancient martial arts, and she’d even used her skills on Oyamada once before. There was a theory going around that he’d been a little afraid of her ever since. Well, part afraid and part attracted, people said.
Kirihara put his earbuds in and started listening to music. Oyamada crashed back into his seat.
“Screw this!”
He kicked hard against the seat in front of him. Most of the students, myself included, jerked their heads back in surprise—even the tour conductor flinched. Only Kirihara, Sougo, and the Takao sisters looked unfazed.
“Hey, Yasu~?” Oyamada called out to the timid boy sitting in front of him. He leaned forward and put an arm around Yasu’s shoulder.
“Wh-what is it, Oyamada-san…?”
Yasu Tomohiro was your typical high school bullying victim. He’d been marked for slaughter by Oyamada since the beginning—two years ago. Yaso had accidentally spilled Oyamada’s juice, and unluckily for him it had soaked Oyamada’s smartphone and bricked it. Yasu had snapped that it wasn’t his fault, but at the time he didn’t know who he was snapping at. Oyamada had stayed locked on ever since.
“Y-you really surprised me there…” Yasu mumbled.
“So Mimori-senpai broke rank and tried to punch above his weight class, and you’re sitting there acting like it’s got nothin’ to do with you! It pisses me off! You got somethin’ to say?! C’mon! Look me in the eyes!”
“I-I don’t have anything to say…” mumbled Yasu.
“Why’s 2-C’s trash can talking back to a real man, anyway? Shut your damn mouth!”
“…”
“Answer me!”
“O-okay…”
Do you want him to shut up, or do you want him to answer you? Oyamada’s such a weirdo…
“Give it a rest already, Oyamada. This day and age, if you go too far and he ends up killing himself, you’ll be in trouble, got it? You too, Yasu. If you’re going to jump off a bridge, don’t do it on my watch.”
That was our homeroom teacher, Zakurogi Tamotsu. He taught P.E., and he was nice to the girls, hard on the guys.
No, wait, small correction there. He’s only nice to the cute girls.
On the guys’ side, he only took interest in the top of the class hierarchy, using those guys as pawns to keep the rest of us in line. As long as we were all under control, he could ignore most of us. The way we were treated varied wildly from student to student—“equality” was a hollow concept in the 2-C classroom. The social order applied to everyone and everything. There was no escaping it.
“Roger! Backing off.”
Oyamada knew when to play dumb, back down, and follow orders. He always managed to get on the good side of adults and teachers—when he felt like it, at least—creating a little space to retreat back into if things got bad. That’s what made the net he spread around himself so toxic.
He clasped his hands together in an exaggerated gesture of apology.
“Sorry about all that, Yasu-kun~! Let’s turn over a new leaf—I’m great at that!”
He didn’t look sorry at all.
Stretching his arms and legs wide, Oyamada hurled himself back into his seat with a loud sigh.
“Mimori-senpai starts acting like the main character, and now this beautiful, sparkly school trip travel scene is ruined! What’d I do to deserve this—”
That was when it happened. No warning, just—
White light seared through the bus windows.