Monday.
Toyogasaki Academy, Class 1-E.
Before homeroom began, Kirisu Mafuyu was already standing at the podium. Most of the students were seated, and at her light tap on the blackboard, the room quieted.
"I have two announcements," she began. "It'll take a moment before we start class."
"The first: Aki Tomoya from our class has transferred schools due to personal reasons."
The room remained mostly indifferent.
"Who's Aki Tomoya?"
"Wait, did we really have someone by that name?"
"Wasn't that the guy who sat near the window?"
A few glanced toward the now-vacant seat and only vaguely recalled his existence. No one had been close to him, and after nearly a semester, it was as if he'd never been there.
Kirisu let out a subtle sigh of relief. Harsh as it was, this lack of reaction was ideal.
"The second announcement: We have a new transfer student joining us today. Please be friendly and help them adjust."
That sparked murmurs of excitement.
"A transfer student? At this time of year?"
"Please let it be a beautiful girl who falls for me on day one!"
"If it's a guy, he better be good-looking!"
"Don't we already have Yukima-san? Isn't that enough?"
"You can never have too many pretty boys. Eye candy is important!"
Kirisu tapped the board again to regain order.
"You may come in now, Kujou-san."
The door slid open.
A tall girl stepped in—long white hair tied in a graceful half-up style, skin like snow, and eyes that gleamed like sapphires. She carried herself with poise, a model of elegance and beauty far beyond the average high school level.
Yukima Azuma blinked. So this was the transfer student Kirisu-sensei had mentioned?
Worrying about whether she'd fit in was pointless. With looks like that, she'd be swarmed with admirers by lunch.
Wait a second.
Kirisu-sensei had said she was from Russia.
Would she have trouble with Japanese?
Was he expected to act as her translator?
As if to answer him, the girl walked up to the board and wrote her full name in elegant script:
Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou.
"Just call me Alya. I'm half-Japanese, half-Russian. Nice to meet you all."
Her Japanese was smooth, almost flawless.
Yukima immediately dropped his head onto the desk. So much for the translator gig.
"Kujou-san, you can take the seat next to Yukima Azuma," Kirisu said, gesturing toward the empty desk.
"And if you have any difficulties—Hey, Yukima Azuma! Wake up!"
Azuma groaned and looked up, a red desk mark etched on his forehead. Laughter trickled through the class—Eriri nearly burst out giggling, and even Alya cracked a small smile.
As Alya walked over, Azuma rose with exaggerated flair and pulled her chair out like a gentleman.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
He waved it off and slumped back down, resting his cheek on the desk. His bangs clung to his forehead with sweat, so he casually brushed them back.
Alya glanced at him, eyes narrowing slightly.
Bathed in soft morning light, his sleepy gesture revealed a sharp jawline and striking features.
"…So handsome," she murmured in Russian.
Azuma blinked.
Did she just say—? No, surely he imagined that.
"Excuse me, Kujou-san," he asked. "Did you just say something?"
"I just said thank you," she replied with perfect composure.
Azuma stared at her. That wasn't "thank you." That was a compliment. Wasn't it?
Does she just… say whatever she wants in Russian because she thinks no one understands her?
Isn't that way too reckless?
Still, Azuma smiled politely and let it go.
"…You're really handsome."
She said it again.
In Russian.
Totally deadpan.
Azuma turned his face away.
Even Eriri stopped laughing. Something was off. She could feel it.
Alya—the new transfer student—was stunning, poised, seated next to Azuma, and already chatting with him like they were old friends.
This was bad.
Real bad.
Eriri could feel it deep in her bones: this was the "girl who fell from the sky" scenario. And she, the childhood friend? She was being sidelined. Worse still—Alya was also a half-blood.
My unique trait! It's gone!
Eriri began to panic.
Later, after class—
Just as predicted, a swarm of girls had gathered around Alya's desk. The boys, too shy to approach directly, watched from afar.
Eriri sat at her desk, feeling conflicted.
At least Yukima hadn't joined the crowd.
That was something.
Then two boys approached him.
Kunimi Yuuma, the basketball ace, and Satou Kazuma, the easygoing otaku.
"Hey, want to play basketball after gym class?" Kunimi asked.
Azuma nodded.
"You two are brutes," Satou muttered.
"I tried playing with them once," he explained to no one in particular. "It was like trying to climb a vertical wall."
Azuma clapped him on the back solemnly.
"If you ever get isekai'd, Kazuma, don't overthink it. Just pick the 'average' cheat skill."
Satou blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"I just think you're the kind of guy who might get run over by a tractor someday."
"…Why a tractor!?"
The three laughed as they headed to the gym.
Meanwhile, Eriri stewed.
Good news: He didn't flirt with Alya.
Bad news: He didn't talk to me, either.
"Come on, Sawamura-san," Kita Ikuyo called, "Let's go change."
"Y-Yeah!"
"Don't overdo it this time, okay?" Kita added gently.
Eriri winced at the memory of the fitness test incident.
Right… maybe he was just shy. Maybe he'd act cool again like he did back then.
Thinking that, she cheered up a little.
After gym class—
Eriri ran to the vending machines and bought a cold green tea. She scanned the area and finally spotted Azuma with his two friends, chatting as they walked toward the lecture hall.
"Azuma! I got you a drink!" she called, holding out the bottle.
Azuma turned, took the tea, popped the cap, and sipped.
"Thanks," he said, then resumed walking.
Eriri stood frozen, fuming.
That's it!? No reaction!? Not even a 'you're so thoughtful, Eriri'?
As she stood there sulking, something cold touched her cheek.
"Wah—!"
She looked up. Azuma stood in front of her, holding out a can of lemon tea.
"Almost forgot. This one's for you. Got it just in case," he said with a gentle smile.
Eriri snatched the can, glaring at him.
Her pouty expression, complete with tiny fangs, would've looked threatening if it weren't so cute.
But… it was her favorite kind.
So for now, she decided to forgive him.