Chapter 6: Senkawa-san, Who Sits by the Window and Has a Foul Mouth from Time to Time

The cherry blossom trees have witnessed countless love stories.

Kitahara stepped off the tram and passed through the street lined with blooming cherry blossoms, taking a moment to appreciate them.

Counting the time, it was April, just after the winter break. The sakura were still in bloom, but in about a month, this scenery would vanish.

He needed to find time for a spring outing.

Like in the Crayon Shin-chan episode—lay out a cloth, find a lawn, and drink beer under the passing girls in the Northern Hemisphere... though, as a high schooler, he couldn't drink alcohol, so barley tea would do, occasionally something mild.

He arrived at the classroom; it was eight o’clock.

At this time, morning music was played. Besides the window, the sound of a saxophone could be heard, though played quite plainly. Kitahara decided to enjoy the morning melody.

It was an old piece from Titanic. When Kitahara arrived, the orchestra was at its most passionate part: Jack embracing Rose under the sunset… Passersby stopped to listen, many moved to tears.

Kitahara was touched as well by such pure love. The girl beside him clearly felt the same; she leaned closer, seemingly wanting to rest her head on his shoulder.

Kitahara generously offered his shoulder. The girl twitched slightly, pressing her face against his ear, whispering softly:

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The bridge effect.

It refers to how people, when crossing tense or thrilling places like suspension bridges, tend to develop stronger emotional reactions toward those beside them due to the environment.

Falling for someone next to you because of a piece of music might sound far-fetched, but it wasn’t impossible.

Kitahara decided to refuse.

Because if she liked him for such a simple reason, she could just as easily like someone else for the same reason.

“Don’t be so quick to refuse, please listen to me.”

Kitahara looked up. Her eyes were large, shimmering with a spring-like glimmer, as if tears might fall at any moment.

Sakura Reina.

The same girl who had called him with a harassing phone call last night.

She lowered her face, earnest: “That day at the movies, I saw stars in your eyes…”

“Kitahara-kun, I believe love requires initiative.”

“You’re the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen. I think youth should hold many possibilities… Even if you don’t like me now, you can try giving us a chance to get to know each other.”

“Even starting as friends is fine. Will you give me that chance?”

Kitahara pondered, gazing at her pitiful cheeks and her delicate, watery eyes.

She spoke as if it were true.

Checking favorability:

[Sakura Reina]

[Status: In a bad mood after being rejected, planning slow revenge…]

[Favorability: 5]

“?”

“If you’re sick, go see a doctor.”

…

Sakura Reina stormed off in anger.

Kitahara had no time for her, nor any interest in what she intended by coming to him. Such a green tea girl could do as she pleased.

He had a main mission now—

To find that ex-wife and the insider.

He was a vengeful man. The saying “a gentleman’s revenge isn’t too late even after ten years” was nonsense; Kitahara only wanted to slap their faces until swollen.

Who they were would be revealed automatically by the system.

Just like encountering a key character such as adorable Takagi, when the ex-wife truly appeared, the system would surely assign a task… Otherwise, how could it be called a life reversal system?

Morning classes ended.

Kitahara tidied his drawer and prepared to go eat lunch. He glanced at the figure sleeping soundly beside him and silently placed a piece of bread there.

His first-year-high school deskmate had continued to be his seat neighbor all this time.

A sign of fate, so he decided to feed her a little.

After Kitahara left, the girl stretched and rubbed her stomach, staring blankly at the bread on the desk.

After a while, she tore off the wrapper and devoured it greedily.

Kitahara was unaware of this, but information quietly surfaced in his mind.

Chikawa Suzuka, rumored to be a delinquent.

She could skip school three days a week and still wasn’t expelled, thanks in part to the leniency of Fukei Oome.

There might have been other reasons, but Kitahara was unclear. Their relationship was ordinary, like raising a husky—frequently feeding her.

During class, the sound of her stomach growling often came from beside him.

Kitahara would turn and see her burying her face in the desk, silent.

He was kind-hearted—maybe an old-fashioned Asian trait—unable to bear seeing someone hungry, so he would occasionally feed her bread without expecting anything in return.

Thus, their feeding relationship was formed.

Whether she was a delinquent or not, Kitahara didn’t care about others’ private lives. However, one incident left a deep impression.

One day, some girls in class whispered and teased Suzuka behind her back. She overheard and gave a murderous glare.

The girls were terrified, thinking she would retaliate, but unexpectedly, she said nothing and quietly returned to her seat.

Kitahara thought it ended there, but when he returned, he heard Suzuka speak for the first time.

Her voice was beautiful, clear, and cold, like piano notes.

As for what she said:

“Damn all of you, stinking… Just wait till I see you outside…”

Kitahara was impressed by her.

Suzuka sat by the window, occasionally muttering insults under her breath.

…

Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Let’s go eat.”

Yoshimizu Yuu, an ordinary yet lecherous high schooler, currently pursuing the title of Tokyo’s most devoted lover.

As for what “Tokyo’s most devoted lover” meant, Kitahara wasn’t sure, but it was probably a gimmick like “Tokyo’s Handsome Guy”—just a way to show he was trying.

Like the English present continuous tense.

By the way, a quick grammar review: grammar refers to the rules and application of language.

Good, the Daliyuan bread wasn’t wasted.

“Let’s eat.”

Kitahara followed him to the cafeteria. They each ordered a pork cutlet set meal and found a free spot to eat.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“This afternoon’s art class, there’s that—”

Everyone has that kind of friend who makes lewd gestures, making one uncomfortable.

Kitahara grew curious: “What?”

“The school hired professional models. They might even be naked…”

While speaking, Yoshimizu exaggeratedly gestured toward his chest. Kitahara glanced twice and found it a bit offensive, replying with an “Oh.”

The hiring of models was true. Fukei Oome, as a prestigious private high school, was well-funded, so such decisions were unsurprising.

But they definitely wouldn’t be completely nude—it’s a high school, not an adult film set.

Still, it made the boys restless.

Speaking of which, Takagi seemed to be in Kitahara’s class. She sat on that side in the afternoon; he planned to ask her about drawing techniques… always good to learn more.

After finishing lunch, Kitahara said goodbye to Yoshimizu and went to check out the clubs.

It was the start of a new semester, and clubs were recruiting again, bustling with activity.

Perfect for seeking revenge.

Passing through a sky corridor connecting the classrooms, Kitahara noticed the corridor was hollow and mirrorless. Occasionally, a breeze brushed his face, and at such moments, he exhaled white breath that vanished into the air.

The weather was cold.

Stopping at the entrance of the literature and arts club, an upperclassman approached: “Want to join, junior? There are plenty of perks now.”

“Perks? Pretty senior girls in white stockings?” someone nearby chimed in.

“No, no, I mean we just got a new batch of Dazai books… but if you want, I can wear them for you,” the upperclassman joked.

Dazai, huh? Even Dazai’s dog wouldn’t read that…

He still wanted to live long and cause trouble.

Kitahara lost interest, walked forward, leaving the others behind.

Perhaps due to the cold, the sports field was nearly empty. Kitahara then visited the swimming pool—Fukei Oome had its own pool, home to specialized athletes.

He heard the water was kept warm at this hour for training convenience.

Opening the pool door, the room seemed empty, silent… but wait, there were people.

A man and a woman stood by the poolside, speaking quietly. The woman looked somewhat reluctant.

Then, the man patted the woman’s shoulder and went into the office.

Kitahara felt as if he had witnessed something significant.

But maybe he was just imagining things.

He touched the water and quickly pulled back.

So cold.

A bunch of liars—the water was nowhere near warm.

“The doors should be locked during lunch break. How did you get in?”

A sharp voice came from beside him. Kitahara instinctively turned to see the girl who had been standing by the pool with the man. She wore the Iris flower uniform, her high ponytail upright, expressionless as she looked at him.

A familiar face.

Chikawa Suzuka.

Kitahara’s gaze instinctively traveled upward. Compared to the Northern Hemisphere view, the Southern Hemisphere seemed even more magnificent. The pale fabric covered two blurred mounds; even without seeing her face, there was a strong sense of awe… such a large chest.

[Ping—]

A system notification appeared.