I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

I, Sakamoto Ryuji, am a completely ordinary high school student turning seventeen this year.
On weekdays, I go back and forth between home and school like clockwork, and on weekends, I either work out with my childhood friend Maiya or stay up all night playing games with my little sister.

That was my basic lifestyle pattern.
But something was off this week from day one.
On the way to school, I bumped into a girl I’d never seen before in an alley. Then I forgot the lunch my little sister packed and left it at home. Then I lost the wallet that had been in my pocket. In all sorts of ways, my luck was awful.

“…I’m so unlucky.”
The school I currently attend, Ichijo Academy, is a prestigious private high school in Tokyo with a very high academic deviation score.
Originally, I was going to attend a school closer to home, but somehow I ended up here thanks to a connection through my archaeologist parents.

Apparently, there was someone they knew here, and they arranged for that person to act as my guardian while I attended high school.
I have a little sister two years younger than me, and since our parents often go abroad for work, it was usually just the two of us at home.
When I was younger, I used to resent them for that, but now, to be honest, I’m thankful.

Because there’s no one to scold us for staying up late and playing around at home.
Today as well, I barely made it in time and opened the back door to Class 2-B.
And what came into view was a back so broad it couldn’t be hidden even by a loose-fitting gakuran, and arms bursting with muscle like they’d explode.

And I knew this guy’s name.
Commonly known as—
"The Strongest Guy in the Academy," Kim Yu-seong.

With his macho looks that made it impossible to believe we were the same age, there were all sorts of wild rumors about Kim Yu-seong.
That he was the heir to an apocalyptic assassination technique, that he had a star-shaped birthmark on his neck, that he was a genius yakuza favored by the third boss of the Dōsei-kai.
No one knew the truth, but at least his first impression wasn’t all that bad.

Basically, if someone talked to him, he’d try his best to answer kindly. During breaks, he was always flipping through the latest issue of Jump.
Unlike the scary rumors, maybe he was actually a good guy.
Not long after I entered the classroom, it was time for homeroom, and Matsuda, our homeroom teacher and the second-year student supervisor, came in.
Matsuda looked like he had just taken a nap in the faculty room, yawning as he spoke to the temporary class president we picked yesterday.

“Class president, call for the greeting.”
Then a girl with braided hair who looked like a model student shot up from her seat and shouted,
“Yes! Everyone, attention! Bow to the teacher!”

“Alright.”
Waving his hand casually in response, Matsuda opened the attendance book tucked under his arm and started calling roll.
“Aizawa Minami.”

“Here~”
“Akagi Shun.”
“Yes!”

The attendance list followed the hiragana order.
With the surname Sakamoto, I was somewhere in the middle, so it took a while for my name to be called.
“Sakamoto Ryuji.”

“Here.”
Like that, the names were called in order, and eventually it reached Kim Yu-seong, whose name was written in katakana, so he was one of the last.
Still half-asleep, Matsuda read out the name without thinking.

“Kim… Ryusei?”
Then Kim Yu-seong, who had been sitting quietly at the back of the class, finally spoke.
“It’s Kim Yu-seong.”

A deep voice, like he’d walked straight out of a yakuza film.
The moment that voice rang out, everyone in the classroom tensed up.
Murmur— murmur—

That included Matsuda, who had looked sleepy just moments before.
Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself.
“Ah, Kim Yu-seong. Sorry, ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) I called it wrong.”

He tried to act nonchalant, but anyone could see he was trembling.
Like a mouse before a lion, instinctively surrendering to a superior male from deep within.
“It’s fine.”

But when Kim Yu-seong calmly said it was okay and bowed his head, Matsuda barely managed to stammer out, “Thanks…,” and finished the roll call.
***
Just when I thought we’d go straight into class, Matsuda suddenly cleared his throat and spoke with a serious tone.

“I know it’s only the second day of the new term and things feel hectic, but quiet down for a second.”
The noisy classroom fell silent as if it had all been a lie.
Nodding in satisfaction, Matsuda then dropped a bombshell.

“There’s a transfer student in our class. They came from far away, so I hope you’ll go easy on them while they adjust.”
With that, Matsuda called to someone outside the classroom.
“Hey! Come on in!”

But I wasn’t interested in some mysterious transfer student at the start of the term, so I turned my head to look out the window.
The fully blooming cherry blossoms gave off a real springtime vibe.
“Introduce yourself.”

Right after that, I heard a bright voice in my ear—presumably the transfer student.
“My name’s Kishimoto Rika! I came up from Shizuoka! I love cats, sweets, and natto-jiru! Let’s all get along this year!”
“Then Kishimoto, your seat will be… over there.”

When I turned my head instinctively at Matsuda’s words, I saw a familiar face and unintentionally raised my voice.
“You! You’re the one I bumped into this morning in the alley!”
“You’re that morning pervert!”

“Who are you calling a pervert?!”
What kind of twisted fate is this?
I never imagined the violent girl I bumped into near school in the morning would be our class’s new transfer student.

Hearing our exchange, Matsuda cheerfully remarked, “Ah, so you two know each other. That’s great,” and urged the violent girl to take her seat quickly.
Eventually, with a “no choice” look on her face, the violent girl sat next to me, placed her bag on the desk, gave me a sidelong glance, and let out a “Hmph!” as she turned away.
She must’ve completely misunderstood because she accidentally showed me her panties earlier.

As I was racking my brain trying to figure out how to apologize naturally, the violent girl pulled something out of her bag and held it out.
“This is yours, right?”
It was the wallet I lost that morning.

I quickly checked the contents—money and cards were all there.
I immediately tried to thank her, but maybe she still hadn’t forgiven me, because she didn’t even look in my direction.
In the end, I couldn’t say a single word to her until Matsuda’s class ended.

***
After first period ended, classmates swarmed the transfer student to talk to her.
Thanks to that, I missed my chance to apologize again and had to quietly step aside like a defeated soldier.

As I stood in the hallway blankly staring at the schoolyard, Maiya followed me out and asked,
“Ryuji, did you do something to the transfer student?”
Faced with my childhood friend’s concerned question, I naturally had no choice but to lie.

“Oh? It’s nothing big. We bumped into each other on the way to school and had a little physical contact. That’s why she called me a pervert.”
“Really? Then that’s a relief, I guess…”
Muttering that, Maiya sneaked a glance at the transfer student’s profile in the classroom, then offered me some serious advice.

“If it’s your fault, make sure you apologize first, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. People will think you’re my mom or something.”
“Whaaaaat~?!”

Avoiding Maiya, who was about to go full lecture mode with her hands on her hips, I hurried back into the classroom.
***
But despite my resolve, the transfer student acted like she had decided to completely ignore me and didn’t say a single word to me through fourth period.

At this point, even I started to get stubborn.
I packed up my textbooks and grabbed the transfer student’s wrist just as she was about to go eat lunch with some other girls.
“What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to talk to you. Just for a moment, okay?”
Maybe because we were speaking loudly, all the remaining classmates’ eyes turned to us.
Honestly, it was super embarrassing, but I gathered my courage and said it.

“It’s about the accident this morning.”
Then, for the first time, the transfer student’s cold expression slightly softened.
“…Fine. But just for a moment.”

Since she agreed, there was no reason to stay in class.
Not caring who saw, I pulled her by the wrist.
I planned to go to the back garden of the school—an isolated place—during lunch break.

As we slipped out the back door together, I made eye contact with Kim Yu-seong, who was sitting at the desk by the door.
Leaning back in his chair with one hand in his pants pocket, slouching with a defiant posture.
I flinched instinctively—but quickly remembered I didn’t have time for this, and rushed out of the classroom.

It was lunchtime, so the hallway was a chaotic mess of students rushing to the cafeteria.
Avoiding that, I took the emergency stairs on the opposite end and reached our destination: the back garden of the school.
There, the transfer student stood with her arms crossed.

I bowed at a 90-degree angle and shouted,
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that on purpose!”
One second,

Two seconds,
Three seconds.
A moment that felt like forever passed, then I suddenly heard laughter from above me.

“Pfft.”
Covering her mouth with the sleeve of the cardigan she wore over her sailor uniform, she smiled like a cat and said,
“You’re more innocent than I thought.”

And the moment I saw her face, I realized.
That the transfer student had been pretending to be angry the whole time.