Chapter 3 | The various circumstances of Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi

 

“A guy I can’t stand.”

That’s what it boils down to in a single phrase when it comes to first impressions.

In fact, the transfer student named Takanomiya Akito was supposed to be an utterly detestable person—at least, that’s what Ginbei still thinks even now. It all started on a certain rainy day in fifth grade when he transferred in. From his very first day, during the homeroom self-introduction, he forced an unfamiliar Kyoto dialect to get laughs, played up his struggles with the different curriculum in a comical way, and in doing so, that guy instantly won over the classmates and homeroom teacher, blending into the class in no time.

Of course, it was all superficial.

Takanomiya Akito’s actions were nothing more than a survival tactic to avoid unnecessary pushback from those around him. To Ginbei, it was obvious that, in that guy’s eyes, the classmates and the teacher were no different from gnats buzzing around a summer ditch.

Why was it obvious?

Simple.

Because Ginbei herself was the type to see her classmates and teacher as no different from gnats buzzing around a summer ditch.

 

 

◇　　　◇　　　◇

 

Looking back, the Sawatari family was a cursed lineage, with the start of their misfortune tracing back to when two older brothers, whose faces she didn’t even know, passed away one after another.

Having lost heir candidates in quick succession, with no particularly outstanding adoptees among the relatives to rely on, the desperate last resort was a child born in haste—unfortunately a girl—and to top it off, the mother followed her sons to the grave due to the strain of childbirth. With no options left, her father gave the name “Ginbei Haruomi” to his wife’s last keepsake, a decision Ginbei thinks might deserve some sympathy.

That said, there’s no denying that the one who got the shortest end of the stick was herself, born to bear the weight of all that karma. She doesn’t intend to resent her circumstances, but as for not growing up into a typical docile daughter, well, she’d like to think they could cut her some slack—that’s her honest feeling.

In truth, despite being a girl, she grew up exceptionally talented, her abilities said to far surpass those of her late brothers, enough to make her father declare, “With this, the Sawatari family is secure for a hundred years.” Having achieved so much, isn’t it fair that she’d see those around her as fools in proportion to her excellence, or that her personality turned a bit cynical and prideful as a sort of price to pay? Couldn’t they just let it slide?

To reiterate, carrying the prestigious Sawatari family on her shoulders alone is, frankly, a stressful affair. That her character ended up a bit twisted, or that she grew up devoid of any feminine charm, should be seen as somewhat inevitable.

No, perhaps it’s more than that—Ginbei, as a child, even thought it might be a kind of right for someone raised in such bizarre circumstances.

She admits it was shallow of her, but what can you do?

Back then, Ginbei was still just a fifth-grader in elementary school. Even to her current self, a second-year in high school, those were childish days she’d rather cover her eyes and forget.

In short, it was at the peak of her mischievous years that she met Takanomiya Akito. With a terrible first impression and an instinctive repulsion from sniffing out a kindred spirit, their clash was practically inevitable.

 

◆◆◆

 

“Nice to meet you, Sawatari-kun.”

Their first contact was the day after his transfer.

If memory serves, it was between math class and P.E.

“I heard from the others in class. They say you’re super smart and amazing at sports, no matter what you do? Looking forward to getting along!”

“…”

As the entire class fell silent at the transfer student’s earth-shattering move, Ginbei cast him a reluctant glance, appraising the insolent newcomer’s eye color as if sizing him up.

Back then, at Tensouji Academy’s elementary division, Class 5-A, Ginbei’s position could be summed up in one phrase: untouchable sanctity.

First off, her athletic ability was top-notch. At 140 centimeters, she cleared the average height, and for her age, she had both strength and endurance. Trained in the ancient martial arts passed down in the Sawatari family, no one could match her in a fight. In the half-human, half-animal world of elementary school society, strength in a brawl held near-absolute value—a truth unchanged through the ages.

Second, she hailed from a locally renowned noble family in Kyoto. In that old-fashioned region, lineage and heritage carried more weight than usual. As the inheritor of the Sawatari name—a family with a firm foothold in political and financial circles—bearing the title of “Ginbei Haruomi” as the heir apparent, she was held in high esteem. Especially at Tensouji Academy, a prestigious school known for gathering the children of elite families, it was only natural that the Sawatari name held sway.

Third, Ginbei’s appearance was strikingly ethereal. Her silver hair and green eyes were utterly un-Japanese, and her faintly detached smile evoked a fallen angel banished from heaven, intimidating even adults. No matter how brazen a kid might be, none dared approach the Ginbei of that time out of curiosity or mischief—and she consciously cultivated that unapproachable aura.

Given all this, approaching Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi casually at this academy was as outrageous as strolling through town arm-in-arm with the Buddha—an act so disrespectful that one might expect divine lightning to strike at any moment.

(What’s with this guy?)

That’s what Ginbei thought too.

Normally, one would read the room. When there’s clearly an oddball in the class, a little caution would be warranted. Especially since Ginbei went out of her way to project an aura to keep such fools from blundering too badly.

(So, what’s he thinking?)

Was he mistaking the distance kept out of awe for bullying and reaching out a hand? No, surely not. He didn’t seem that naive. Or perhaps he’d been egged on by some prankster classmates to approach her as a dare—that seemed more plausible. There might be some reckless idiot willing to risk her displeasure, though she couldn’t say there absolutely wasn’t.

(No, that’s not it.)

The real answer was probably this:

This transfer student had accurately grasped Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi’s standing and was deliberately approaching her despite it.

“Ah, hey? Sawatari-kun?”

As Ginbei stood from her seat in silence, the transfer student hurriedly chased after her. She’d decided long ago to ignore those who tried to use her or flatter her. For those who persisted despite that, she’d repay them accordingly—that was her rule too.

And it seemed the transfer student was opting for the latter. “Hey, wait up!” he called, stubbornly trailing her.

Ignoring him, Ginbei walked down the hall toward the library.

The library, a standalone white-painted wooden building separate from the school, was one of the few places she genuinely liked back then.

For one, it was clean and quiet.

And though it was just an elementary school collection, it held more books than one could read in a lifetime. If she felt like it, there was something to learn from any volume—that had always been Ginbei’s style, then and now. Back then, she spent far more time there than in the classroom.

“Wow, what a nice library.”

Ignoring the transfer student’s admiration, she passed through the door, picked a random book, and sat by the window just as the bell rang. The near-retirement librarian, used to her, didn’t even glance at Ginbei lingering there despite class starting.

“Is that okay? Class is starting.”

The transfer student, shamelessly taking the seat across from her, asked.

Guess it’s about time, Ginbei sighed inwardly. Reluctant as she was, she’d have to deal with this.

“I don’t like beating around the bush.”

Keeping her eyes on the open book,

“If you’ve got a purpose, spit it out. I’ll at least hear you.”

“Huh? Oh, no, it’s not like I’ve got some grand purpose…”

“If you’re saying you’re just nibbling away at my precious time for no reason at all, that’s far worse.”

Following her this far and showing no sign of returning even after class started meant that, right? If not, he’d better brace himself for the consequences—she implied as much, though whether it got through was unclear. The transfer student looked briefly taken aback before flashing a friendly smile and saying,

“I want to be friends with you.”

“No thanks.”

She shot him down instantly.

“If you want friends, you’re decent enough at surface-level schmoozing—go make nice with the classmates however you like. As long as it’s got nothing to do with me, do whatever you want.”

“Mmm.”

Unsure how he took her flat rejection, the transfer student scratched his head in thought before saying,

“You’re way tougher than I expected, Sawatari-kun… You’re really smart, huh? I’d heard stuff about you from all sorts of people, but you’re way beyond what they said. Seeing right through someone you’ve barely talked to like that—must be tough for everyone around you to deal with, huh?”

“I like to think I’m pretty tolerant, all things considered.”

For Ginbei, she was being patient,

“I don’t harm people who don’t harm me. But I also never forgive those who do harm me. And unfortunately—very unfortunately—it seems you’re in the latter category right now… Are you aware of that?”

“You mean how I’m wasting your precious time by doing this?”

“…”

Her silence said, If you get it, then get lost.

“I’m in a pickle, huh.”

Scratching his head again,

“It’d help if you could tell me why you’re avoiding me so much. We’ve only just met, and all I want is to be friends.”

“If you carelessly pick up a lackey, the power balance in a group can collapse surprisingly easily.”

Ginbei said carelessly,

“I get that having my protection would make your life here easier—I understand that. But I’ve no interest in breaking a system that’s working just fine in this little world, especially since I’m the one who built and maintains it. I’m not a volunteer or a philanthropist, you know.”

“No, not a lackey, a friend—”

“One more thing,”

Cutting off his strained smile,

“I don’t trust people who only see idiots around them.”

“…You mean me?”

“Of course I mean you.”

Just like me, she added in her head.

If you’re talking about suspicious types whose thoughts you can’t read, Ginbei herself would top the list. She thought she understood Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi more objectively than anyone. That’s why she couldn’t help but judge this transfer student—someone she saw as a kindred spirit—harshly.

“I don’t really mean it like that, though…”

Whether he knew her thoughts or not, the transfer student layered on another wry smile,

“I mean, I’m kind of a huge idiot myself, so I’m in no position to judge others. …Though if you mean I’m not interested in the people around me, you might be right. At least, none of the class seems worth bothering with seriously.”

“…”

Sensing he might open up, Ginbei flicked her eyes up from the page.

Seeing that, the transfer student broke into a grin,

“I want an ally.”

He said.

“I’ve got a purpose I have to fulfill no matter what. But as I am now, I’m nowhere near enough to make it happen. So first, I need to grow. The fastest way to do that is to hang out with someone better than me. It’d be even better if they’d be my ally—since that’d get me to my goal quicker. …And that’s where you come in, Sawatari-kun.”

Leaning forward,

“I could tell right away you’re no ordinary person. Not the type you meet every day, either. Getting shipped off to this far-flung place had me furious at first—everything went dark—but they say when one door closes, another opens, and it’s true. I never imagined I’d meet someone as interesting as you. I have to be friends with you.”

“…”

“So, yeah, that’s about it. You don’t like beating around the bush, so I laid it all out—how’s that?”

The transfer student smiled brightly.

It was probably the truth. Beneath his smile, a raw desperation peeked through—not an act. On closer look, his eyes seemed honest and straightforward. His sizing-up and sorting of the classmates might not be his usual pattern—maybe something he wasn’t used to doing.

Hmm, Ginbei nodded inwardly.

Her distrust hadn’t changed, but this transfer student… he didn’t seem like a bad guy.

“—Fine.”

“Really? You’ll be my friend?”

“In light of you baring your guts, I’ll let your actions so far slide.”

Dropping her gaze back to the book,

“I’ll tell the class and the teachers to treat you well. That alone should make your life here more than comfortable enough. I could even pull strings for your grades if you want, but you don’t need that, right? You seem like you’d manage decently on your own.”

“Uh, the string-pulling’s nice and all, but… the friend thing?”

“That’s as far as I’ll go for you.” Glaring at him, “If you plan to waste more of my time, you’d better be ready for the consequences.”

“Yikes, scary.”

The transfer student’s brows drooped into a V,

“Got it. That’s enough for today. Sorry for bothering you.”

He seemed the type to act fast once he’d made up his mind.

With a one-handed apology gesture, he stood and hurried out of the library. Being new, he might still get leniency for tardiness. He’d probably calculated that much before following her here.

With a sigh, Ginbei looked up at the ceiling.

It seemed she’d caught the eye of a real hassle.

If she wanted, she could probably get him expelled today, but that’d require steps and groundwork—too much trouble. It’d be easier if he’d just fall in line as her pawn like most of the class and grade did, but from the looks of it, that wasn’t happening. Whatever his purpose, he seemed driven by some fierce conviction—not mere self-interest, but something purer.

(What a pain.)

Like certain religious zealots or philanthropists, guys like him were tenacious. This problem wouldn’t resolve itself easily—she predicted as much, and after mulling it over, confirmed it seemed spot-on. With an even bigger sigh, she lost the energy to care about his so-called “purpose” and forgot it entirely. Years later, she’d come to deeply regret that—but that’s another story.

 

◆◆◆

 

The Sawatari family has handed down a number of quirky traditions since ancient times.

One such custom is raising a daughter as a boy until her Shichi-Go-San ceremony ends. Since the Sawatari family went through a long stretch without sons, it’s said to be a precaution—so even if only daughters remained, they could seamlessly take over as head. That’s the official line, but Ginbei thinks it reeks of a retrofitted excuse.

Proof is in the family history: they’ve elevated heirs from unremarkable branches and even pulled adoptees from unknown lineages. If they truly cared about direct bloodlines, it’d contradict Ginbei—practically pure Nordic—being treated as the next head. Like countless other customs worldwide, it’s probably just superstition or good-luck charms hollowed out to mere shells. Yet the fact that they still cling to these odd traditions silently shapes the mystique of Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi.

At least, almost everyone around her fell under that mystique’s sway, convinced she was something to fear. The quasi-religious rituals, standout appearance, and Meiji-era scholar-like speech were cheap gimmicks—partly intentional, sure—but she didn’t expect them to work. Still, if people bought it, it was a low-effort win.

“Hey, Sawatari-kun.”

The reason she had to add “almost” was right in front of her again today.

Three days since their first encounter.

Ever since, Takanomiya Akito had tried contacting Ginbei every single day without fail—no exceptions.

“…”

Tensouji Academy elementary division, library. At her usual sunny window seat. Ginbei kept her eyes on her book, trying her best not to register the transfer student’s voice.

“Hey, Sawatari-kun, your influence is seriously amazing. Ever since you said you’d ‘tell them to treat me well’ that day, the way everyone looks at me has totally changed. It’s like, uh, I’m a prophet spreading divine word to the masses—that’s how I feel now.”

“…”

“No, really, it’s wild. Everyone’s super considerate now—talking to me, showing me their class notes, even offering to share their lunch. After school today, I got invited to hang out by people from other classes I don’t even know—three separate invites from different groups. Seriously, it’s nuts.”

“…”

“And today, someone straight-up asked me if I could put in a good word with you through me. I turned them down, of course—seems like you’re not into flattery, right?”

“…”

“No, really, Sawatari-kun, it’s thanks to you. I never thought I’d blend into this school so smoothly and so fast. Thank you.”

Lie through your teeth, Ginbei thought.

Her intervention likely had a big impact, true, but even without it, this transfer student could’ve carefully built his own standing. His slick moves on his first day proved that.

If anything, her meddling might’ve been a hindrance, she mused. From what she could tell, he hadn’t planned to stand out this much at first. Now he’d practically become her errand boy. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down—that’s universal, and for a guy just days into a transfer, he’d skipped too many steps too fast, like a triple promotion.

“By the way, this school’s got a big club scene even in elementary, huh? Chess and shogi are apparently national-level, and I hear the baseball team could take on Little League. Oh, Sawatari-kun, are you in any clubs? If you are, I was thinking maybe I could join too.”

But this guy didn’t seem fazed at all, diligently tossing her topics to chew on.

He had to know what it meant to be alone with Ginbei like this in this school, yet he showed no nerves or excitement.

“Oh, right, judging by that look, you’re not in any, huh? Makes sense—you skip most classes, studying way beyond elementary level here in the library. Clubs probably don’t interest you anymore.”

If he were just giddy from lucking into cozying up to a big shot like Ginbei right after transferring, he’d be easier to handle. Maybe earphones could block out his chirping, but sadly, Ginbei wasn’t into music. Normally, she wouldn’t lose focus no matter who was yapping nearby, but—

“Oh, speaking of, on my way to school today, there was this cat—”

“Enough already.”

She’d finally hit her limit.

No more excuses about it being a hassle or needing groundwork to act. Even gnats swarming honey should have some sense of restraint, shouldn’t they?

“Read the room a little, transfer student. You’re not that clueless, are you?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Was I bothering you?”

“If you can look at my face and interpret it any other way, you must be quite the big shot. In that case, you’re probably an alien incapable of communicating with humans—I’ll hand you over to NASA through some contacts.”

“Haha, being praised that much is kinda embarrassing—”

“I’m not praising you. Anyway, transfer student, you’ve been wasting my precious time this whole while. Realize that and stop it now. I’ve already done more than enough for you—without asking anything in return. What more could you possibly want?”

“Yeah. I want you to be my friend.”

“No.”

“Aw, come on, don’t say that—”

“I’ve got no intention of getting chummy with you. Give it up.”

“But, Sawatari-kun, it doesn’t look like you’ve got any other friends either.”

“So what? What’s that got to do with you?”

“Well, if you don’t have friends, why not be friends with me? It’s been a few days since I transferred, and while there are people I could get along with in class, none seem like friend material—except you, Sawatari-kun.”

“I don’t care about your situation. Leave me out of it.”

“But doesn’t it get boring without friends?”

“I don’t lack friends—I lack people worth calling friends. Sure, there are probably plenty of respectable or more capable people out there, but sadly, I don’t get the chance to meet them.”

“No, no, that’s not true.”

Saying that, the transfer student cheekily pointed at himself.

With a full-on grin, no less.

“…”

“Hey, hey, hold on! Don’t give me that look!”

Panicking, the transfer student waved,

“Okay, yeah, I said it myself, and that’s kinda awkward, but it’s not that outrageous, right? I’m unexpectedly decent, you know!”

“I don’t care if you’re decent or not.”

“Then test me!”

“I said I’m not interested, so why would I bother with the effort? Are you stupid?”

“No, no, I’m not stupid. Proof is, there’s a way to test me without much effort.”

“…And that is?”

“Be my friend for a trial week. That should give you a decent idea if I’m worth it, right?”

“…”

“Hey, come on, stop with the cold stares! It’s gone past cold to just blank!”

Scratching his head with a troubled smile,

“Man, you’re harsh, huh? You said you hate beating around the bush, so I’ve been trying to be straight with you.”

“Being honest and being shameless are two different things.”

Ginbei let out a small sigh.

She’d admit his boldness was a talent of sorts. Fearlessness was a skill too, but—

“Anyway, I’ll say it as many times as it takes: I’ve got no intention of being your friend.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“No, no, that’s not fair. At least tell me why it’s a no—I can’t accept it otherwise.”

Why do I have to explain anything? she thought with a click of her tongue, but her mind was already working on an answer.

And then it hit her.

Why was she rejecting this guy so hard?

He wasn’t incompetent. From what she’d seen and analyzed, that much was certain. Cross-referencing info from the hangers-on, the conclusion was the same. For someone her age, he might be the most useful person she’d encountered so far.

If that’s the case, then—

Putting the friend thing aside, shouldn’t she at least consider winning him over? She’d done it with other sharp kids her age—using a mix of kindness and firmness to establish hierarchy, turning them into eager pawns. Adding this transfer student to that roster could be handy. For the future, building connections with useful people was obviously smart, yet—

No answer came, and she clicked her tongue again at her unusually sluggish brain.

Seeing that, the transfer student smiled, adding to her irritation,

“Fine, I get it.”

“Huh? You’ll finally be my friend?”

“Don’t twist my words. I said I get it because I realized the whole premise was off.”

“? Meaning?”

“Reacting to you at all was my mistake from the start. I forgot the basic rule: indulge them, and they get cocky.”

“Huh? So, what does that mean?”

“…”

“Hey?”

“…”

“Wait, what? What’s up, Sawatari-kun? You just went quiet and stared at your book.”

“…”

“Hellooo? Hey?”

“…”

“Oh, that’s awful! Are you seriously ignoring me now!?”

Bingo.

In short, treat him like air. His constant chirping was annoying, sure, but with proper effort, she could tune him out like he wasn’t there. For Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi, that shouldn’t be hard.

“Hey, c’mon, Sawatari-kun! Hey!”

“…”

“Hey, answer me!”

“…”

“Ignoring me’s awful—that’s bullying! I’m officially protesting!”

“…”

“Oh, I see. You’re really gonna ignore me, treat me like I’m not here.”

“…”

“Heh, okay, okay. If that’s how it is, I’ve got an idea. You’re treating me like air, right? Then it’s fine if I do whatever to you, yeah?”

“…”

“So, how about I start by sticking my finger in your mouth and stretching your cheek? Then tape your eyes wide open, and maybe tweak your nose like a pig—wait, wait, kidding! Just kidding, honest!”

Whether her murderous vibe got through, the transfer student hastily backtracked, then quickly regained his cool,

“But, too bad. You’ve finally figured it out.”

“…”

Figured what? she thought but kept ignoring him. He grinned and went on,

“See, Sawatari-kun, you say you’d hate being friends with me, but here you are, keeping everyone else at bay, yet chatting with me alone in the library—skipping class, no less. No matter how you slice it, that’s not ‘strangers’—it’s pretty friend-like, huh? Whether you admit it or not.”

“…!?”

“It’s called creating a fait accompli. Just talking like this already puts us in friend territory. Yup, you’ve fallen right into my trap without even realizing it. Heh, sticking with me like this, oblivious—you’re kinda cute, huh?”

“…”

“Oh—wait, don’t make that face! That’s practically pure murder!”

Laughing awkwardly as he stood,

“Alright, that’s it for today. Unlike you, I’ve gotta get to class or I’m in trouble.”

With a retreating stride but a smug look, the annoying transfer student left the library.

“…Damn it.”

Spitting out her frustration, Ginbei closed the book she’d been pretending to read. In this state, not a single word would stick.

(He’s throwing me off.)

That transfer student danced just shy of making her snap, dodging her emotional strikes with finesse. It was infuriating. She couldn’t help but admire the skill, but being on the receiving end was unbearable.

(Calm down. This isn’t like me.)

She coached herself inwardly. She hated to admit it, but he was getting under her skin. Letting him take the lead was galling—she needed a plan. No, wait, don’t rush. Acting hasty would play into his hands. First, regain composure—that’s priority.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Two deep breaths were enough.

If she couldn’t manage this much control, she’d never live up to being the Sawatari heir. Her father had named her successor, so the family might not face the succession battles of other nobles, but with all the kin and clans in play, holding her ground was no small feat. She wasn’t to be underestimated.

(Time to get serious about how to handle him.)

Thinking that, Ginbei leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. A short nap for a mood shift and mental boost was proven effective, both scientifically and from experience. She’d regroup, then deal with it.

Sinking slowly into a pleasant doze, she let herself drift off—wishing, uncharacteristically, that when she woke, the world would be free of that guy’s nonsense.

 

◆◆◆

 

“Hey, Sawatari-kun. Welcome back.”

Her wish went unanswered.

That afternoon, after school.

Having finished some errands and returned home, Ginbei was greeted by a face she’d trade years of her life to never see again.

“You’re late today. Did you have something to do?”

“…”

“Wow, this place is amazing. Like a daimyo or shogun’s mansion. First-timers would definitely get lost, huh?”

“…”

“Wanna sit down? Quit making that face like you’re about to kill a demon—whoa, hey, hold on!?”

No questions asked.

She practically kicked him out of the house, called a maid to sprinkle salt, and caught her breath while thinking.

Why was he here?

Sure, the estate’s location could be found out, but getting inside shouldn’t be that easy. Did he claim to be her friend and waltz in? No way—the Sawatari security wasn’t that lax. Everyone in the house knew she wasn’t the type to bring friends over. Did he sneak in like a ninja? No, this wasn’t a manga.

Puzzling over the mystery, the answer soon revealed itself.

Not minutes later, the transfer student came back.

With her father in tow.

“Man, that was harsh, Sawatari-kun.”

Scratching his head with a wry smile, the transfer student griped, already looking chummy with her father.

Bizarre.

Where’d these two even connect? Then it hit her—she cursed her own carelessness. She’d heard his name, hadn’t she? Takanomiya—a noble family on par with the Sawatari. With that clout, cozying up to her father wouldn’t be hard.

“Don’t be so mad—I’ll apologize for coming without telling you. I’ll leave soon; I just dropped by to say hi.”

Even so, the transfer student ended up staying hours. Her father insisted he stay, inviting him to dinner. Naturally, Ginbei got dragged into it too. Hosting a guest from a noble family with proper hospitality was expected, but this time, she couldn’t hide her grimace.

“Thanks for the meal. Next time, I’d love to have Ginbei-san over at the Takanomiya house.”

After what felt like torturous hours, dinner ended—she thought she’d finally get a break, but no. Her father ordered her to escort him back to the Takanomiya estate, cementing her belief that her luck was at rock bottom. Resigning herself to it being that kind of day, she’d just endure it.

“Sorry, Sawatari-kun. I kinda barged in today.”

Glancing at him clasping his hands apologetically as the black car rolled along, Ginbei waved it off listlessly.

(Still, this transfer student’s tricky.)

Even with the Takanomiya name smoothing the way, pulling this off so seamlessly was impressive. Winning her father over so easily, outmaneuvering her expectations—he had the makings of a top-tier con artist, at least.

Knowing that, what now?

How should she deal with him to maximize benefit and minimize damage?

The simplest move might be finding his weakness. If she lucked into a fatal flaw, she was confident she could neutralize him however she liked. Or maybe a smear campaign to tank her father’s opinion of him? Tricky with the Takanomiya backing, but if she could plant some malice or disinterest, her options would widen. Either way, she needed a plan—

“Sawatari-kun, you’re not blood-related to your dad, huh?”

“…”

A sharp glance.

For the first time since getting in the car, she locked eyes with him.

“Your dad’s got that pure Japanese vibe, but just looking at you, you could pass for Nordic. Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi’s such an old-fashioned name too—kinda mysterious.”

“Poking into family matters like that—is that the Takanomiya way? If so, it’s quite a way to go about things.”

“Oh, sorry if I offended you.”

Bowing his head sincerely,

“But I heard it straight from your dad earlier, so I figured it’s not some big secret. Plus, keeping quiet about it might feel ruder—like it’s bad for relationships or something.”

Ginbei sighed inwardly, unnoticed.

Annoying, but fair. She’d taken the stance that explaining it openly was better than letting weird rumors fester.

“You’re right, transfer student. As you can tell from my looks, there’s no direct blood tie between me and my father. But at the same time, I’m a legitimate Sawatari by blood.”

It’s a bit complicated.

Her father, the Sawatari heir, married a woman from a distant branch of the family. She was a descendant of a line that crossed the sea after the Meiji Restoration, and after generations of mixing, she looked almost entirely Nordic.

So, to outsiders, they’d inevitably ask, “Oh, an international marriage?”—but in reality, it was a union within the clan.

That alone is messy enough, but it’s just the start.

After marrying, her parents seemed to get along decently, and the two sons they had were both sharp. Up to that point, it was practically an ideal life track.

But then came the hardships, one after another. Both sons passed away in quick succession, and around the same time, her father fell ill, tragically losing his ability to have more children.

The fallout’s easy to imagine. The once-peaceful Sawatari succession turned chaotic. Branch families exploited the lack of heirs, meddling shamelessly. The young kin were mostly dimwits, useless, and the heir race spiraled into endless turmoil—until a new life unexpectedly sparked between the couple.

How could a barren couple conceive?—everyone wondered. When the baby girl arrived, she was practically pure Caucasian, impossible to link to her father’s blood. Another uproar loomed, but the mother died from childbirth strain, and with her father’s final word, Ginbei took the heir’s seat. No consensus, no celebration—just a resolution shrouded in mystery since her father never explained.

That’s the gist.

To survive, to prove her worth, and to ease the pressure on her parents, Ginbei had to be more than just “good”—she had to excel.

Not that it’s why, exactly, but she tends to blame her twisted personality on her upbringing.

“Wow, that’s rough.”

Did she want pity for it? No. Ignoring the transfer student’s nod entirely,

“By the way, I’ve got no blood tie to the Takanomiya family either. They’re just taking care of me—not even formally adopted. Oh, and my real parents are gone now.”

“…”

Ginbei clammed up at that.

Not shocked by his sudden confession or moved by his situation—rather, it pissed her off. Using his backstory like a trump card to shut her up felt cheap, she fumed inwardly, oblivious to her own hypocrisy.

“I mean,”

Sensing her mood, the transfer student added defensively,

“You said you hate beating around the bush, right, Sawatari-kun? So I figured it’s better to clear up anything secretive. Plus, I wasn’t planning to hide it anyway.”

“…Hmph, bold of you. Sure, maybe you didn’t mean to hide it, but don’t tell me you didn’t time this perfectly. You saw me spill my story and jumped on the chance, didn’t you?”

“Haha, can’t slip anything past you, huh? Yeah, spot on—I thought, ‘Lucky break!’ Figured I’d toss my story in too. It felt like the natural flow, you know? Plus, hitting an ambush with a counter-ambush seemed pretty effective.”

“Hmph, no surprise there. I knew from the start you’re that kind of sneaky guy. And let’s clear up one thing—you’re acting like your ambush worked, but that’s dead wrong. Your story’s got some shock value, sure, but that doesn’t mean I—”

“But I was glad. That you told me.”

Cutting off her rebuttal, the transfer student grinned, genuinely happy.

“It’s, like, the basics, right? Two people who didn’t get along at first, opening up bit by bit, and before you know it, friendship sprouts. Classic stuff. Hot-blooded, even. You’re super cool, Sawatari-kun—sometimes too cool, kinda scary—but you’ve got that side too, huh?”

“I don’t get what you’re on about. That’s not what we’re talking about—”

“Yeah, yeah, nice, nice. We’re definitely getting closer. Yup, perfect timing, I’d say. I’ve been saying it from the start, but let’s make it official here: let’s be friends, Sawatari-kun. We’d make awesome friends—best buddies for decades, even.”

“…”

Ginbei shut her mouth.

No, more like her jaw dropped and wouldn’t close.

Positive? Optimistic? This guy was way too good at spinning things his way. Did his dictionary even have words like “give up” or “back off”?

Sighing for the umpteenth time, Ginbei mulled it over. She wasn’t usually short-tempered, and she’d been pretty patient with this mess, but… wasn’t it about time to snap? No, maybe she was already late to swing the axe.

“Transfer student.”

“Yeah, what’s up, my friend?”

“…Do you remember what I told you the other day? That I’d tell the class and teachers to treat you well?”

“Of course I do! It’s helped a ton. Seriously, that’s what let me fit into this school without a hitch. Your word was the proof of our friendship, the best gift you—”

“I’m taking it back. As of right now, you’re out from under my protection.”

The transfer student blinked, stunned.

Smirking inwardly but keeping it off her face, Ginbei went on,

“That’s not all. I’ll issue a notice to avoid you as much as possible from now on. So all the perks you’ve enjoyed so far? Gone, clean slate.”

She should’ve done this sooner. Thoughtfulness was her strength, but indecision or delay wasn’t. Why she’d bothered with him this long was beyond her now.

“And don’t ever get involved with me again. I’ve said it over and over, and you’ve dodged it every time, but starting today, no more vagueness. Stop all attempts to approach me.”

“…So,”

Looking up at the car ceiling, the transfer student pondered,

“No more popping by your place like today?”

“Nope.”

“Hanging out with you in the library?”

“Nope. Letting it slide this long was the mistake.”

“Talking to you?”

“Think before you speak. I said ‘no involvement’—what, does Japanese not register with you?”

“Then, watching you quietly from the shadows—is that safe?”

Ignoring that,

“You’re tied to the Takanomiya, so out of courtesy, I’ll leave it at this for now. But if you keep defying me, I’ve got plans. Ignore this warning, and I’ll come at you full force. No mercy. Be ready to lose not just your social standing, but your literal lifeline.”

“Hmm…”

Scratching his head, a brief silence.

Of course, Ginbei didn’t think this’d make him back off.

“Man, that’s harsh.”

Scratching his head again, the transfer student sighed.

Sure enough, the transfer student flashed an undeterred grin,

“All I’m saying is I just want to be friends with you, but that’s a bit much. That’s cold, Sawatari-kun.”

“If you’re going to call it ‘a bit much’ and criticize me, I’ll throw those words right back at you. Aren’t you the one being a bit much, transfer student? I’ve said over and over I have no intention of being your friend—so why won’t you respect my wishes? If we’re talking about who’s awful, it ought to be you by far. Have I done something to earn your grudge? I don’t think so, right? Just let me be free of this nuisance already.”

“Haha. When you put it like that, I’ve got no comeback—I mean, all I can do is say sorry, right?”

The transfer student made a genuinely troubled face,

“But sorry—I just have to be friends with you.”

“Too bad. I absolutely don’t want to be friends with you.”

Ginbei shot him down,

“I’ll say it again. If you still go against my will after this, you’ll end up completely isolated from everyone around you, and life from here on out will get pretty tough. I’ll use every bit of political power and connection at my disposal to make it happen. On the other hand, if you obediently listen to me and swear to have nothing to do with me from now on, I’ll keep arranging conveniences for you. Your life will go on smoothly, just like it has so far, without any issues… So, what’ll it be?”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who gives up that easily?”

“No, you don’t. Guess you won’t get it till you’re hurting, huh.”

Conveniently, the car stopped, and the driver opened the door.

Looking out the window, a grand estate gate—rivaling the Sawatari residence—loomed heavily in the night’s darkness.

“We’re here, huh. Guess we’ll pick this up tomorrow?”

“…”

Ignoring Ginbei’s obvious lack of interest in replying, the transfer student thanked the driver, stepped out,

“Sawatari-kun.”

Turning back before closing the door,

“I’ll say it again too. I absolutely want to be friends with you. If I can’t even manage that, there’s no future for me anyway. So I’m not giving up. To me, this is as serious as life or death… Well, it might be a huge pain for you, I guess.”

Having said his piece, the transfer student smiled and disappeared beyond the gate.

Too fed up to even speak, Ginbei gestured to the driver with a wave, urging him to head home.

The next day, Ginbei followed through on her words.

She rescinded the order to grant the transfer student favors and issued a decree encouraging everyone to avoid him.

The effect was immediate.

From the moment he arrived at school that morning, the transfer student was isolated, treated as if he didn’t exist in the class. Once held in high regard as the closest person to Ginbei, he plummeted overnight—almost dazzlingly so—to the bottom rank of the class caste system. No one spoke to him, no one responded when he spoke; he was reduced to less than air.

Normally, this alone would be enough to break anyone. Up until the day before, he’d been the sole person basking in Ginbei’s favor, treated like royalty—only for it to flip overnight. Even a grown adult might be left dazed, bawling in despair.

But the transfer student, true to his word, was a man of action. Despite repeated warnings and threats, he showed not the slightest sign of being fazed—continuing to talk to Ginbei, sticking by her side as long as possible. It was as if he were silently declaring he didn’t need friends besides Ginbei, that no one else was worth befriending—an unshakable resolve in his actions.

Ginbei took further measures. She ordered a few lackeys to act as bodyguards, fortifying her personal space, and had them drive the transfer student off with force if he got close—a primitive yet highly effective way to keep someone specific at bay. But this too failed. Blocked and repelled by the bodyguard wall, he still didn’t give up, trying every trick in the book to approach her.

Exasperation—Ginbei had never experienced a situation where that word fit so perfectly. At this rate, the transfer student probably wouldn’t budge no matter how things played out. She’d have to take even stronger action to deal with him.

So, what to do?

His persistence was clearly ironclad. Simply escalating her measures wouldn’t cut it. Something more radical, definitive, and ideally capable of shifting the problem’s core would be best—but what could possibly counter that cockroach-like tenacity that’d make even roaches flee barefoot?

After a night of deliberation, she arrived at a single conclusion.

The next day, Ginbei skipped school.

 

◆◆◆

 

“Run away to win” is a well-known saying for a reason.

To begin with, school education wasn’t exactly essential for Ginbei. Her classmates were mostly a bunch not worth bothering with, and she’d long offhandedly mastered the elementary curriculum ages ago. She’d only attended diligently to keep up appearances. Since she didn’t care about perfect attendance awards, skipping school with a decent excuse posed no issue.

(I should’ve done this sooner.)

Stretching out in her room for the first time in a while, Ginbei savored a fleeting sense of freedom. With physical distance, even that relentless transfer student couldn’t bother her. Sure, he might try visiting the Sawatari estate under the pretense of checking on her, but it wouldn’t be like last time. She’d strictly ordered everyone in the household not to let him cross the threshold. Even if it caused friction with her father, she’d deal with it then. That’s how intolerable the transfer student had become to her.

(Oh… time free of worrying about that guy feels so refreshing!)

Allowing herself the childish indulgence of rolling around on her bedding, Ginbei was in high spirits. Imagining the dejected face that guy must be wearing right now filled her with a rare euphoria—once-in-a-few-years levels of bliss. She even gave extra food to a stray cat that occasionally wandered into the vast garden, a little celebratory handout, sharing her happiness.

The next day, she skipped school again. She wasn’t as giddy as the day before, but just not having to see the transfer student’s face was enough to convince her she was in a blessed spot right now. Digesting her backlog of unread books, Ginbei spent a quiet, peaceful day.

The day after that, she skipped again—though she couldn’t relax as leisurely as before. Being at the top of her class and grade, managing those relationships meant a constant stream of complaints, direct appeals, and pleas. With the overseer absent, the tightly knit human dynamics started to loosen. A group of kids without supervision tends to go that way, but she couldn’t just ignore it. Holed up in her room at the Sawatari estate, the pile of chores assigned to Ginbei grew almost by the minute.

And then came the fourth day.

Ginbei was thoroughly irritated.

(Why do I have to do this?)

By “this,” she meant holing up in the estate like a mole, forced into an utterly stifling life—

(It’s ridiculous. I’m someone with a decent social standing, earned through no small effort. All so I wouldn’t have to deal with the petty noise of worthless people—that’s how it was supposed to be. So what’s this now? Because of one guy, my freedom’s shackled, and I’m stuck in a situation no better than a prisoner thrown in jail. What kind of nonsense is this?)

It wasn’t much different from a kid allowed to skip school with a mild cold. She’d managed to kill time smoothly at first, but the calm of day one or two felt like a lie now—she was starting to feel trapped by her own circumstances.

(What went wrong? Where did I mess up?)

It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing, but it’d been decent enough, hadn’t it?

Born into an eccentric family, inheriting a standout appearance from her parents, and gifted with a brain destined to be a nail that sticks out.

But think about it. It might be an enviable birthright—maybe it was—but the bigger the inheritance, the heavier the burden, as the world tends to go. Making it this far without major slip-ups owed plenty to luck, sure, but above all to Ginbei’s efforts. Mastering a high-spec ride like Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi—fit for an F1 race—demanded a driver pay a steep price and earn the chops to match.

And that’s her.

So why was she suffering like this over one guy—one kid her age, no less? Why was she being forced to lick this much bitterness?

She’d never faced a situation this unmanageable in her life. Brushing it off with a platitude like “everyone’s got a natural enemy” wouldn’t cut it, nor could she just let it go. If that enemy kept a gentlemanly distance, fine—but this was the opposite: the more she pushed him away, the closer he got, making him a total nightmare.

Worst of all, she still couldn’t grasp the root reason why her gears were so out of whack. Without knowing the cause, she couldn’t fix it. Without fixing it, she was left with no choice but this passive retreat—hiding like a mole.

Right. Why?

Why was she stuck playing catch-up, suffering endlessly like this?

Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi’s strengths were supposed to be her quick footwork and bold first strikes—yet now she was like a timid turtle, forced into pure defense mode. No, made to be.

Why hadn’t she gone for the simplest, surest option: “eliminate him with force”? Because she thought it’d mean losing. The transfer student had come at her straight-on, waving just one flag—“I want to be friends.” Using force to crush that felt like an adult slashing down an innocent kid from on high—a move that’d put her own worth on trial. Wait, hold on—why was she thinking like this? Why was she framing it as if the outcome of this rivalry tied to her pride? All that mattered was getting rid of a pest—nothing more—so why? Didn’t that very mindset prove she’d already been psychologically cornered somehow?

And amidst that confusion, Ginbei stumbled onto another bitter truth: despite holing up to distance herself from the transfer student, all her thoughts revolved around him.

Unable to sit still, she leapt from her bedding. She’d go crazy brooding like this.

The Sawatari estate’s courtyard, crafted in the Edo period with the era’s finest techniques, was a masterpiece—blending ornate flair and rugged simplicity with renowned grandeur. The sky was unfortunately overcast, the sunlight dulled by thick clouds, but the openness still soothed her frayed nerves decently enough.

Taking deep breaths and stretching, she thought it over.

She didn’t know where the gears first went off track. Maybe she’d been thrown off from the very start till now—but at this point, it didn’t matter.

She hadn’t lost yet. That’s what counted.

Quick footwork and bold strikes were her forte, sure, but tenacity was Ginbei’s true strength. She’d regroup, turn the tide, and—

“Hey. So this is where you were.”

…First, she doubted her ears.

Then came a strange acceptance—like, yeah, that tracks. This was the guy unprecedentedly throwing Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi for a loop—honestly, it was weirder she’d been optimistic till this very moment.

“Phew, good thing. Whether I’d find you before getting caught was a total gamble. Guess I’ve still got some luck left, huh?”

Turning around, there he was—a classmate brazenly hinting at trespassing. A face she’d rather not see, a name that stressed her out just to say, her first-ever nemesis—worthy of being called irreconcilable.

“My father’s intervention?”

No shock.

Rather, what filled her in that moment was a long-absent feeling—her natural, machine-like calm and composure.

“I meant to avoid the same trick twice and thought I’d covered my bases this time… Did you use some backdoor I don’t know about to get past it?”

“Nah, it was more brute force—nothing too sneaky. Your dad’s not involved this time either.”

“I see. Then I’ll give you even more praise, transfer student. If you made it here purely on your own skill, that’s impressive. I thought I’d taken decent precautions this time… Whether you sweet-talked your way in, snuck through, or used some entirely different method, I don’t know—but either way, it’s a feat worth applauding.”

“Nah, nah. Just got lucky, that’s all.”

“Then it’s worth raving about, not just applauding. If you really pulled it off by sheer chance, pure luck alone.”

With that, Ginbei let out a wry chuckle.

That chuckle was a sign of confidence. This wasn’t the flustered, floundering her from moments ago. She’d been cornered, steeled herself, and now stood as a beast ready to fight—a cornered rat ready to bite the cat.

“So? What’s the point of coming here, knowing full well it’s trespassing? Here to try being my friend again, like some broken record?”

“Nope. That’s not it.”

His unexpected reply threw Ginbei off for a split second.

If not for that, then what? What was worth risking this much to come here? To check on her fake illness or something?

“A fight.”

The transfer student said,

“I came to pick a fight.”

“A fight?”

His baffling statement made her parrot it back.

“Truth is, Sawatari-kun, I’ve been ticked off at you from the start. From the moment I first saw you, right up to today.”

The transfer student’s demeanor was the same as ever.

That gentle, timid smile—probably his default look. At a glance, a slender, upright figure, like young bamboo with a quiet strength.

Yet that same transfer student—exactly as Ginbei knew him—let his mouth spill unrestrained venom she’d never have predicted.

“That smug face all the time. Those eyes always sizing everyone up. That prim walk, like a cat that won’t let anyone near. That dark shadow, like you’re carrying the world’s misery—I hate it all. Every single thing oozing out of you drives me up the wall.”

“…”

“Sure, I get it’s probably just hating my own kind. I’ve got some of that in me too, you know. Yeah, I bet you feel the same, Sawatari-kun… What you pointed out early on wasn’t wrong. Calling everyone around me idiots and looking down on them might be a stretch, but it’s true I’ve got no interest in low-level types. Hanging with them’s a waste of life… Yep, I figure you think the same way. Otherwise, someone as charmless as you wouldn’t exist.”

“…”

“So, let’s settle it.”

Cracking his neck and shoulders,

“In the end, it’s gotta come down to fists. That’s how it always is. Humans never change. They can get a bit smarter, clean up nice, and pray all wise-like for ‘world peace,’ but when push comes to shove, it always ends up there.”

“…”

“Run if you want. You could call security anytime, or even turn me over to the cops for trespassing. Running’s a kind of resolution too—avoiding a fight’s a legit tactic, a strategy. I won’t hold it against you, Sawatari-kun. I’m not even in a position to.”

“…”

“But look—this is totally your home turf, and I’m the away team, no matter how you spin it. Call in all the backup you want, cry to your dad if you’re losing—I won’t complain. I barged in here by force, so that’s fair… Still, if you can’t even take up a fight that’s been thrown at you, what’s the point of you existing? Sure, not losing matters, but just living to not lose—what’s fun about that life? Can you really puff out your chest and say you’re standing tall, living proud on your own two feet? …No, wait, it’s not even that complicated.”

With that, the transfer student scratched his head.

Turning back to face Ginbei again, he spoke in a tone like he was patiently teaching a grade-schooler basic math,

“It’s simple. Don’t you want to slug me just once, Sawatari-kun? This fly buzzing around you nonstop—don’t you want to smash a fist right into my face? I’m dying to make you cry, you know.”

Swoosh

A chill crept up from her gut.

Fear? No, not that.

Dread? Hardly.

A fury fiercer than fire, freezing everything—an anger so intense it looped back to laughter.

So she’d been played all along, huh? That bitterness stung.

But fine.

Lucky or not, the stage was set. Might as well dance her heart out.

Not as Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi, but as one human being. She’d go all out here, thrashing that transfer student till he couldn’t show his face again.

“Watch yourself.”

Sensing the vibe, the transfer student shrugged casually,

“I’m decent for a grade-schooler, you know.”

He made his move.

No way she’d let him get the first strike this late in the game. Her pent-up frustration probably dwarfed his by hundreds of times. Delaying the moment she’d deck him—letting him take the lead—was out of the question.

The distance was about four meters.

Not a short gap for a brawl, but Ginbei closed it in two steps. From a dead standstill, almost no wind-up. She’d never imagined the ancient Sawatari martial arts would come in handy like this till today.

She threw a palm strike, Collapsing Fist-style.

A solid hit aimed at his nose, loaded with hip power. Even for a ten-year-old’s move, a clean hit would have an adult writhing on the ground—

“Whoa.”

Four meters is long for one-on-one bare-knuckle fighting. Especially for the one picking the fight, it’s an opener they can dodge with room to spare. The transfer student flowed right, letting the palm strike sail past—but Ginbei had calculated for that.

As her left foot landed, she moved instantly. Her body, already shifting left mid-air, pivoted effortlessly to chase the dodged prey. A near-right-angle step. She planted hard, dropped low, and went for the real deal—a body tackle—

“—!?”

He’d read it.

A brutal elbow crashed down from above. Even a graze could end it—a merciless shot to her temple.

Quick call. She ditched the tackle, tumbling onto the mossy courtyard ground. The cushion helped, but the awkward landing stabbed her shoulder with pain—she ignored it, springing up to reset the distance and brace for a follow-up.

“Ancient martial arts, huh? That’s what I figured.”

No follow-up came.

Instead, he sent straightforward praise.

“Impressive. Never thought you’d come at me with a modern tackle. I’d heard the Sawatari family had some old-school self-defense stuff passed down, so I assumed you’d stick to that vibe.”

“…”

“That first hit did feel old-school, though. More like a tweak on Chinese kung fu than pure ancient martial arts—but that’s Sawatari for you, right? A merchant family with deep roots. Still, that’s sly. Really sly. A double feint—physical and mental. Man, that’s just unfair.”

He’d dodged that “unfair” move with ease and countered with a nasty riposte—yet here he was griping. She thought it but didn’t say it.

(This guy’s good.)

Alarms blared at max volume in Ginbei’s head. She’d figured he’d be confident, swaggering in to pick a fight like this—but he was way beyond her expectations. Still, given how recently he’d transferred, it probably wasn’t Takanomiya training. Less like he’d studied a martial art, more like he’d honed his fists through sheer street brawling experience.

Either way, one thing was clear: the transfer student could go toe-to-toe with Ginbei, who’d been drilled by her father and frequented local dojos to sharpen her self-defense skills. For a fifth-grader, her level outclassed most black belts.

(What now?)

Edging closer step by step, she weighed her options.

This guy was dead serious—full-on, no-holds-barred combat mode. He’d probably go for eye gouges or bites without blinking. This wasn’t a sportsmanlike bout—rules were out the window, and that suited her fine. Her craving to smash his face was borderline insane now; she wouldn’t stop till she collapsed from exhaustion.

“What to do, huh?”

The transfer student spoke up.

That same calm smile on his face, but his eyes glinted like a predator sizing up prey, plotting how to rip Ginbei apart.

“Feels like if we keep going, neither of us is walking away clean. Wanna call it quits? It’s just barely not too late.”

A scoff slipped out. What was this transfer student blabbing about? He, of all people, was radiating “I’ve got no intention of stopping” from head to toe.

(Whatever happens, happens.)

She took the bait and stepped in.

Same instant, the transfer student stepped in too.

Her greeting front kick got crushed—part of the plan. As he closed in for a counter, she aimed a palm strike to intercept. Targeting his chest instead of his face to make dodging trickier, but it was shallow—he barely flinched. He shot back with a middle-knuckle fist at her throat. A sharp critical hit, but she’d anticipated it—swatting it aside with her right hand, half-turning to kill his momentum. As he teetered, she moved to finish it—but he wasn’t that soft. Even off-balance, he scooped up a backfist from below. Adjusting for it threw Ginbei off too, and her intended killing arm-blade lost power—

“Ow!”

“—!?”

A trade. His backfist sank into her cheek; her arm-blade cracked his skull—but both were light. They staggered but held ground, instantly throwing next moves. Ginbei kneed his side; he elbowed her temple.

Another trade.

Shallow again. Two groans escaped, drowned out by roars as Ginbei’s palm strike hit his jaw and his right hook slammed her cheekbone.

Another trade.

Blood rushed to her head. No more cool-headed combos—only ingrained training and raw enmity drove her, flailing to break him. The transfer student matched her, consumed by fighting instinct, weaving through a storm of fists and elbows with unrelenting battle lust.

“—”

“—”

No words left—not even sounds.

Hit, strike, pound nonstop.

No defense—just pure will to crush the other with violence. No honor, no finesse—just a brawl.

A textbook kid fight.

Lips split, nose bled, jaw twisted.

Punching fists screamed, lungs creaked for air, sweat and spit soaked the ground.

The transfer student was laughing.

Ginbei might’ve been laughing too.

If anyone saw this fight, they’d probably laugh as well.

That’s how pathetic yet all-out this slugfest was.

A showdown more eloquent than a million words, venting every ounce of frustration.

As if it’d been going since the universe began, it felt eternal—though in reality, it was probably just a few dozen seconds.

Then, one moment, Ginbei edged ahead slightly.

Skill gap or luck? Who knows—she couldn’t recall how many hits she’d landed or taken, no point analyzing now. But the scales tipped her way, just a hair, no doubt.

That hair’s breadth was decisive. In a brawl where both were at their breaking point, tipping the flow back wasn’t easy.

Panic flickered across the transfer student’s face for the first time, and Ginbei knew instinctively—

He’s coming.

With what?

No clue. But probably something to flip the disadvantage in a flash—something dirty, nine times out of ten. Eye poke? Hidden weapon? Kicking gravel for a blind?

None of the above.

A fist stretched for her face—a decoy. The real move was a venomous kick rearing up, aiming for her groin.

Too late to dodge.

Victory flashed in his smirk as his lips twisted.

At that exact moment, Ginbei bared her teeth in her own victory grin.

She didn’t fail to dodge—she chose not to.

And by not dodging, her fist carried her full weight.

Agony ripped through her pelvis. But it wasn’t unbearable.

The instant his smirk turned to shock, her full-swing straight punched through his face.

A kid’s fist, sure, but perfectly timed and landed clean. The transfer student didn’t stand a chance—blown back, he crashed to the ground.

—Game over.

 

◆◆◆

 

That cockroach-level stubbornness wasn’t just in his personality or actions—it showed in his physical toughness too, apparently.

It’d only been a minute or so after Ginbei, utterly spent, slumped down on the spot when the transfer student she’d battered groggily got up.

“…Tch.”

Glancing left and right, then a beat later—he seemed to accept it.

“I lost, huh.”

Thud.

He flopped his barely-raised torso back to the ground,

“I was pretty confident, you know… You’re strong, Sawatari-kun.”

That’s my line, Ginbei thought.

She’d never imagined a kid her age could push her this far… In a formal match or a street scrap, she’d never felt she’d lose to a peer—yet relief or joy took a backseat to cold sweat. This win rolled in by dumb luck, just because it was that kind of day. No way she could brag about a razor-thin victory.

“Man, this hurts. Hurts like crazy. First time I’ve ever been beat up this bad. Ugh, damn it!”

He barked in frustration, hauling himself up again.

Yet despite that, his face and voice were oddly bright—contradicting his words.

“My mouth’s all bloody—teeth might be chipped too.”

“If that’s all, consider yourself lucky.”

Coolly, Ginbei pointed out,

Fixing him with a deadpan stare while still slumped,

“I probably wrecked my fist. Thanks to pounding your calcium-packed cheekbone to a pulp. Won’t be using my dominant hand for a while.”

“Oh, huh. Guess that makes it a fair trade, then?”

“Interpret it however you like. You’re free to fantasize in your head all you want.”

“…Heh heh.”

The transfer student chuckled.

Eyes crescent-mooned, purring like a mischievous cat.

“…What’s with the creepy vibe? Getting all bruised up and laughing doesn’t suit you.”

“Heh, well, you see—”

Giggling like a total weirdo now,

“I finally got my wish—becoming friends with you, Sawatari-kun. Nothing could make me happier.”

“…I don’t get what you’re talking about. Did all those hits scramble your brain? Not that it’s news your head’s messed up.”

“After a fight like this, the only path left is being friends.”

Smugly,

“It’s like hitting rock bottom—only way’s up, right? Brawling this hard, no holds barred, ending up with messed-up faces—there’s no choice left but to get along. That’s how the world works. At least in this country’s culture.”

“Hmph, too much manga and anime for you. You want that ‘not bad, huh’ ‘you too’ schtick, but no dice. I’m not your friend.”

“It’s not about becoming—we already are. Me and you, Sawatari-kun—anyone looking would say there’s no doubt we’re friends.”

“I’m not buying it.”

Ginbei pushed back,

“You said it yourself, transfer student—you hate everything about me, couldn’t wait to punch me. Same here—I couldn’t stand you from the first glance, dying to slug you. Even if we somehow became friends, it’d never last as anything good.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

The transfer student dropped the grin.

Switching gears, with a voice woven purely of sincerity and truth,

“Someone who doesn’t tick you off, someone you don’t want to punch even when you’re mad, someone you can’t even fight after a falling-out—could you call that a friend? We went at it this hard—means I’m worth wanting to hit, at least to you, right? That’s enough. I don’t need anything else. You and me—we’re proper friends.”

“…”

She thought.

In all her life, Ginbei had never had a single person she’d call a friend.

That was entirely because she looked down on everyone, built walls around herself, and never let anyone in—but had anyone ever wanted to forge a bond with Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi in the first place?

Lackeys hoping to serve her, or jerks trying to use her—those were a dime a dozen. But someone genuinely offering friendship? Had there ever been a guy this stubbornly, fistfight-level serious about coming at her?

For that matter, that guy had never once leveraged the Takanomiya name to push for friendship. That route would’ve been his quickest win, no doubt. For Ginbei too—if he’d gone that way, it’d have been easy. She could’ve faked surface-level friendship, secured the Takanomiya connection, and brushed him off casually.

(Hmph…)

She glanced down at her right fist—probably broken.

She didn’t have to take this risk—there were tons of ways to handle him. Why’d she pick the absolute worst possible method to deal with his threat?

She’d finally caught on to the answer.

If she couldn’t figure it out by now, she’d have no right calling him an idiot or a fool.

“Transfer student.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Ever since we met, I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. How to see you, how to handle you.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

“And I finally reached a conclusion just now. It feels like it took way too long, but for me, it was a life-defining moment. You’re the first nemesis I’ve ever met, after all—figuring out how to deal with you was huge.”

“Yup, yup, gotcha, gotcha. Yeah, makes sense—totally. Being called a nemesis kinda stings, but it means I wasn’t some small fry to you, right? That’s a win for me—I’ve gotta roll with it. Still, after all this, we ended up friends—”

“I’m not going to be your friend.”

“…Whaaaat!?”

Thud.

The transfer student flopped over for the third time.

“Wait, wait, wait—are you serious serious!? Oh man, even after all this, still no go? You’re tough—beyond tough, just rock-headed—or maybe Japanese doesn’t even register with you. Nah, it’s fine—I’m cool with it, totally unfazed. Okay, that’s a lie—I’m fazed, but I’m not giving up, you hear? Like I said before, I have to be friends with you, Sawatari-kun. If I can’t even manage that, my future’s pitch-black anyway. I’ll keep coming at you with every trick I’ve got—”

“Listen to people till the end, will you?”

Sighing in exasperation,

“I don’t need friends. Someone interchangeable, someone who’d drift away the moment we’re apart—I don’t want that. What I need, what I truly want—”

With sincerity, earnestness, and a voice knit from pure honesty and truth,

Ginbei said,

“Is a best friend whose bond will never break, no matter what.”

“…Best friend?”

“Takanomiya Akito. If you want to be my best friend, you’ll be tested constantly. To me, friendship—beyond trust or mutual help—is a grind of rivalry and growth. And if you’re aiming to be my best friend, Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi’s best friend, thinking you can maintain that with half-baked effort is a huge mistake. Once you’re my best friend, I’ll be yours for life. I’m a handful, I know—bet you’ll face plenty of grief. You’ll get sick of it more than once or twice. But in return, I promise a bond that’ll never let you down.”

“…”

“I’ll ask you again, Akito.”

A breath—

“Can you really be my best friend? Can you keep from disappointing me—and avoid being disappointed by me?”

“…Best friend?”

The transfer student blinked, dazed, like someone short on wits,

“With who? Who’s that?”

“Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi and Takanomiya Akito. Who else?”

“…”

“Akito? You listening?”

“…”

A pause.

Then—

“Yeeeeeeehaaaaaaaw!”

A roar erupted.

“It’s here, it’s here, it’s finally here, you jerk! Hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah—yeeeeeeehaaaaaaaw!”

Jumping, flailing arms, kicking legs, trembling spine.

So that’s what joy looks like, Ginbei thought. When happiness hits a certain peak, humans just break down, huh? Like sorrow or anger can shatter someone, too much joy’s a poison too—watching her “best friend” writhe like crazy, she felt a bit wiser.

And at the same time, she felt a touch proud for sparking that body-shaking glee. Seeing Akito—who’d kept that infuriatingly smug grin—drop all pretense and act so unguarded felt unexpectedly endearing—

“Ah.”

Suddenly, her best friend froze.

Not just froze—his face visibly wilted,

“What’s up? Something wrong?”

“Uh, well…”

Scratching his cheek awkwardly,

“That fight just now—I got way too into it and went all out.”

“So what? I went full throttle to crush you too.”

“Yeah, but… I kinda did something a little unfair, maybe? Thinking back, it wasn’t cool to pull that on someone I’m about to be friends with.”

“We’re even on that score. We both went all out, practically trying to kill each other, and here we are making up. ‘Yesterday’s enemy is today’s friend’—that saying’s made for right now.”

“Still, there’s stuff you just shouldn’t do as a person.”

Akito’s face shifted to something near gloom.

“No, more like stuff a guy shouldn’t do. Yeah, it’s about honor. I crossed a line—something shameful for a guy. You’re built tougher than most, Sawatari-kun, so it turned out fine, maybe. But nah, it was still bad.”

“…?”

She couldn’t quite follow what he was on about.

Not just that—it felt like they were fundamentally off-sync somehow. Something unthinkable in normal terms, absurd enough to border on tragic—

“So, uh, Sawatari-kun.”

Practically groveling in apology, eyes upturned like a scolded pup awaiting punishment,

Her newly minted best friend mumbled, barely audible,

“Your groin. Was it okay?”

“…Huh?”

It took a few seconds to process.

And once she chewed over Akito’s words, digested them, let them sink in everywhere—she belatedly realized she’d never once mentioned being a girl.

 

◇　　　◇　　　◇

 

Six years have passed since then.

Recalling the very first scene of this endless button-mismatch comedy, a bitter pang stirs in Ginbei’s heart.

It’s all hindsight now, but that day started it all—and that day, she got it all wrong, didn’t she?

Sure, she’d always dressed like a boy. Her name was undeniably masculine. Back then, she wasn’t short for her age, and her hair was shorter than now. Puberty was just barely kicking in—or not quite yet—that’s true too. And she’d never volunteered the info herself, no denying that.

Still, though—

Even factoring in all that, couldn’t he have noticed? She can’t help but feel that way. The other classmates knew just fine, the seating was split by gender—there were plenty of hints. Skipping classes like crazy back then haunts her now. If she’d at least gone to P.E., she wouldn’t have suffered this much, no doubt.

Anyway, since that day, Akito’s never once treated her like a girl.

As for their oath to be lifelong best friends, he’s mostly kept it—barring a few hiccups—but that might’ve only made things worse, Ginbei thinks. Realizing now that her initial repulsion was affection in disguise—and a guy-girl kind of affection at that—just deepens the sting.

But enough about that.

No point digging it up. She’d somehow convinced her objecting father, left home with next to nothing, and came to this unfamiliar town practically bare-handed. No use looking back now—just forward, full speed ahead.

“Himekoji Akito-kun. Make me your girlfriend—”

“You heard it. Your precious big brother’s my cute guy starting today—”

 

“Don’t just say whatever you want, you two! From the day I was born till now, Onii-chan’s always been my Onii-chan! He’s long reserved—no, sold out—”

Especially now, it’s an emergency. Seeing Himekoji Akito swarmed by strangers—drop-dead gorgeous girls, no less—caught up in a love spat right in front of her, her resolve flared up like wildfire, naturally.

April 7th, opening ceremony day.

Wearing an unfamiliar uniform, standing as a transfer student in a strange school, Ginbei was primed for battle. His popularity with girls had never surfaced back in elementary or middle school because she’d always been by his side—but it was undeniable. She’d expected the same scene at this new school, sure, but a harem like this? Way beyond her predictions. If she didn’t act fast, the past six years would feel like paradise compared to the hell she’d face.

“Don’t just say whatever you want, you two! From the day I was born till now, Onii-chan’s always been my Onii-chan! He’s long reserved—no, sold out! Showing up now with that talk won’t fly—”

“What’re you saying?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s your blood brother, right? You were never in the running from the start.”

“I get you care about your big bro, but sticking your nose in this kinda thing’s outta line, don’t you think?”

“N-no, it’s not like that! The love between me and Onii-chan isn’t that cheap—”

One deep breath to steady herself.

From here on, the challenges ahead would dwarf anything she’d faced before—multiplied several times over.

To reach beyond best friend status, she—a total klutz at romance—would have to walk a path like a warrior conquering demons.

She knew that, of course—all hundred percent of it.

Didn’t matter who stood in her way. She’d follow her desires, clawing her way to the outcome she wanted—just like her once-nemesis, now-best-friend had done.

Here we go.

The real fight starts now.

“Hold up a sec, will you?”

Cutting through the clamor of three rivals vying for one guy,

Sawatari Ginbei Haruomi threw down her declaration of war.

“If we’re having this talk, mind if I get in on it too—”