I’d just left the gymnasium after the entrance ceremony and was on my way to Class A’s building when it happened.
“Hey.”
The ceremony itself had gone off without a hitch—but of course, things like that didn’t just end once they were over.
“Hey, I’m talking to you.”
There had been speeches from the principal, the student council president, and the first-year representative. I knew there were, but I couldn’t remember a single thing any of them had said.
“Hellooo?”
No doubt they’d practiced their speeches for hours ahead of time, nervous but determined as they addressed us all. But when there weren’t any major screwups, no one really registered what was said. I knew that from my middle school days.
“Hey, are you listening? I know you can hear me!”
I was the only one who didn’t seem to care, though. Everyone else had been starry-eyed, especially when the student council president and the first-year representative—both girls—gave their speeches. At least, it seemed that way to me, but maybe I was wrong. Not that it really mattered either way.
“Wait. Are you seriously ignoring me right now?”
Still, it seemed like not everyone was okay with being ignored.
“Hey! Don’t just stand there! Answer me!”
Case in point, the girl making a fuss in front of me. She was probably one of the not-okay-with-it types.
Red hair, cut short. Around a hundred and fifty centimeters tall, give or take. I hadn’t gotten a good look at her, not wanting to be rude, but from what I could see, she was decently well equipped in the chest department. Her voice was on the high side, and most striking of all, she had a permanently angry look in her eyes.
It probably didn’t help that she was looking up at me from below, which made it feel like she was glaring. But even without that angle, her eyes were sharp.
“Enough already! You— Eek!”
As I was observing all this, the girl suddenly looked like she was about to take a swing at me. I noticed that her guard was wide-open, so I swept her legs out from underneath her. She went down easily.
They do say the moment of attack is when you’re at your most vulnerable.
“Wh-what just…?”
She sat there, stunned, not realizing what had happened. I couldn’t blame her.
Thanks to my memories from my past life, I had always understood the importance of training the body and had spent years doing just that.
On top of that, we had tons of books on mechs and piloting back home thanks to my parents’ work. Everything drilled home the same point: To pilot a mech, it’s important to picture what you want to do in your mind. If you can’t imagine doing it with your own body, you’ll never pull it off in the cockpit. This is why aspiring pilots should study martial arts and marksmanship. My parents’ library even had training manuals for the recommended disciplines. I hadn’t been aiming to become a pilot back then, but I had still been interested in mechs, so I’d done my best to master those skills.
Even in Gundam and fighter-jet video games, balance and g-force resistance were a huge deal.
In fact, I had desperately tried to recreate Z Fighter moves, Holy Warrior finishers, and Soul Reaper techniques during my training—a secret only my sister knew.
I trained so hard because I believed that if I didn’t awaken some kind of hidden power, I’d die in the cross fire when the real heroes showed up.
But anyway.
Thanks to that effort combined with my naturally high physical aptitude, I had some decent skills. I couldn’t exactly crush rocks down to atoms or anything, but I could look after myself in a fight.
That’s why if I went all out and used everything I had, tripping up a yelling girl who was too distracted to watch her footing was easier than dozing off on a spring afternoon.
“Wh-what just happened?”
She continued to sit there on the ground, flustered and confused. I was just about to hit her with a cool assassin-style one-liner—“Child’s play”—when I noticed something.
White.
An undeniably bright white. A flower blooming bold and unashamed.
“Hmm.”
Thanks to the angle and her position, there it was. Completely unintentional and totally unavoidable.
…Now, your average teenage boy might have reacted to something like this, but not me.
Appearances aside, I was a proper gentleman at heart. Plus, I lived with my little sister, and I did all our laundry. I’d seen enough girls’ underwear to last a lifetime.
What was the big deal if I caught a glimpse of one more pair?
Well, maybe I was a little curious. But when I thought about it—standing there, frozen to the spot, staring at the blossom that had suddenly bloomed right in front of me—it became obvious what I should do.
“…”
Keita Kawakami exits, smooth as hell.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Hey! Get back here!” she shouted after me.
But I strolled off, not listening.