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“Alright, alright, everyone, quiet down. Back to your seats.”

A lazy voice. A slouched, languid deanor. Hands shoved in his pockets, unshaven stubble on his face—who was this scruffy old man?

Sizing up the figure at the podium, presumably the “horoom teacher”, Harutaki couldn’t help but feel disappointed. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novelꞁire

He hadn’t expected a young, beautiful teacher or anything, but this sloppy-looking uncle? Really?

Where was the “ani world” he’d been promised? Sure, there were already kids with hair in every color of the rainbow, but this was their teacher?

Then again, maybe that was the mark of a high-ranked prep school. Even with a teacher this halfhearted, the students obediently slipped back into their seats. It seed this man had figured out he didn’t need to raise his voice to maintain order.

Harutaki, though, was pretty sure he was just plain lazy.

“I’m your Class 2-3 horoom teacher, Asama Masayuki. I’m a laid-back guy, easy to get along with. But don’t think that ans you can bring all your problems to .”

Asama-sensei rubbed at his ssy bedhead as he surveyed the thirty-so students in front of him, even as they were sizing him up in return.

“Ooh, lucky! Another class with Lord Awa-no-Kami-sensei in charge!” A girl in the front row waved energetically, teasing.

“I told you, Nishihara, I’m not from the Sanada clan.”

Wearing a baggy, wrinkled suit, Asama-sensei didn’t look like a teacher in the slightest. He scrawled “Asama Masayuki” on the board with a few brisk strokes, then pointed his chalk at the girl. “If you put half as much effort into history as you do into nicknas, Nishihara, Shimomura-sensei wouldn’t be complaining about your grades.”

“I heard Asama-sensei barely manages the class, but his students’ grades are always above average,” whispered Akihisa beside Harutaki, unable to hide his delight.

So, even in a prep school, a teacher who knew when to loosen the reins and acted mild and easygoing was still popular.

“We look forward to your guidance, Lord Awa-no-Kami!” called out the boy sitting next to Nishihara, joining in the joke.

“Yeah, yeah… just the sa na. But since you volunteered yourself, I’ll save myself the trouble. You’re in charge of choosing the class rep and vice rep. Murai, handle it like last ti.”

The boy who’d been laughing with his neighbors froze the instant he was nad. “…Fine, fine.”

Already used to Asama-sensei’s style from last year, Murai didn’t argue. He simply stood up, strode to the podium, and took the teacher’s place.

“Anyone who’s seen the soccer team play already knows .”

With a deliberately exaggerated gesture, Murai flicked his black bangs aside. His tone carried a smug arrogance before he gave a formal bow.

“The na’s Murai Ren, also known as Murai Awa-no-suke, Lord Asama’s trusted retainer. Any troubles, leave them to .”

“You’ve been binging too much historical drama, Murai!”

“That was spot-on!”

“Can I leave the troubles of adolescence to you, too?”

Harutaki joined in on the teasing with a grin, earning a surprised glance from Akihisa, as if to say, “That was you, Harutaki?”

“That classmate who looks like a Shun Oguri—since you’re as handso as I am, leave this kind of thing to a girlfriend instead. As long as your grades don’t tank, I doubt Asama-sensei will care.”

The classroom, already relaxed thanks to Asama-sensei, burst into easy laughter under Murai’s antics. Jokes flew back and forth. It didn’t feel like a newly mixed class at all.

And Harutaki, having gotten a laugh in, had successfully put his face on the map. Building connections from here would be easier.

“Alright, alright, let’s handle the important stuff first.”

Murai clapped his hands, the brightness in his voice returning.

“Anyone want to run for class rep? One below the teacher, thirty-four above you. Trendous power. If no one dares take it, I’ll graciously accept the post myself.”

After a pause of silence, Asama-sensei smacked the podium and muttered, “Okay, Murai’s class rep. Anyone want vice rep?”

Murai added with a smirk, “Flatter a little, and I don’t mind if the vice rep stages a coup.”

“M-, , ! I’ll do it!”

A girl shot her hand up, grinning ear to ear. “How about I be vice rep?”

Seeing soone volunteer first, and a friend of Murai’s at that, Harutaki quickly shelved his own thought of trying for vice rep.

He hadn’t cared about the title itself. What he wanted was to expand his social circle, build so standing in class, and set himself up for a smoother school life. But if it ant competing? His odds were near zero.

Elections required connections. And for him, connections were the very thing he lacked.

“Cut it out, Miho. What exactly are you good at? Don’t go giving Ren extra trouble.”

The red-buzzcut boy in front of Harutaki, clearly one of Murai’s crew, ribbed her with a grin.

“Shut up, Haruto! I can na every active Johnny’s group backwards!”

This was Nishihara Miho, the girl Asama-sensei had called out earlier.

To Harutaki, her looks were average compared to so of the class, but she knew how to dress up. With so polish, she could just barely pass as a “cute girl.”

“Rejected! Nobody wants a vice rep whose only talent is idol trivia. Miho, you’re better off applying to Shūkan Bunshun.”

(TL: a tabloid magazine)

Murai crossed his arms and struck a proud pose. “That said, I could probably debut in Johnny’s myself with my looks, right?”

“Booo—”

“Ugh—”

The class burst into good-natured jeers, not mocking him, but happily playing along with his gag.

“Well then… if no one else wants it… Nogami-san, how about you give vice rep a try?”

Harutaki followed Murai’s gaze. The girl in question, Nogami, looked thoroughly unimpressed. She smacked her desk and snapped:

“Are you still playing this stupid little house drama, ‘Lord Retainer’?”

The cheerful mood froze solid in an instant.

Like the sudden cold snap in The Day After Tomorrow, the classroom atmosphere plumted to subzero. Murai’s smile stiffened. Everyone else held their breath.

So that’s why his instincts had scread at him to steer clear of Nogami…

Even Harutaki felt a shiver run down his spine.

Not even the son of the richest man in his previous life had radiated this kind of tyrannical pressure.

And from the way even Asama-sensei pinched his brow and sighed, Nogami’s influence in school had to be even greater than Harutaki had assud.

Nichiya was a public high school, which ant no board of directors.

Could she be the principal’s daughter?

He eyed her sharp, rose-colored eyes with their upward tilt, trying to puzzle out her identity.

“Haha… well, if Her Majesty doesn’t want to try her hand at student governnt, that’s only natural…”

Murai wilted instantly, even forcing a chuckle as he shifted the topic. His gaze slid desperately toward the girl seated by the classroom’s front door.

“Shihou-san, could I trouble you to take the role of vice rep instead?”

Suddenly called on, the girl by the door showed no trace of nerves. Calm and unhurried, she rose gracefully to her feet.

A bob cut, princess-style straight black hair with longer strands framing the front. Golden eyes. A refined, dignified air. If soone told Harutaki she was a princess who’d stepped right out of a storybook, he’d believe it without question.

If Nogami was a queen, tyrannical and domineering, then Shihou was the opposite. Elegant, reserved, almost otherworldly.

Shihou Chouko

“I did serve as class rep in middle school, but high school may be different. I’m not sure if I’ll manage well as vice rep…”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but carried poise. The soft upward lilt at the end of her sentences gave her the air of a noble young lady.

Kyoto dialect? Even that refined “court language” flavor?

A genuine ojou-sama?

She was right in Harutaki’s strike zone.

“Ahaha… don’t worry, Shihou-san. I’ll handle the tough stuff. Just ask that you take care of the girls’ side.”

Murai seized on her hesitation at once.

She glanced around, saw no objections except for Nogami’s sour expression, then smiled wryly and gave a graceful bow.

“In that case… I’ll do my best, though I can’t promise to live up to the role.”

“Tch.”

Nogami, clearly bored once the matter was settled, turned back to her textbooks and tuned out the rest.

So, Shihou-san’s background was probably just as extraordinary.

Harutaki thought it over.

For soone like Nogami to back down without a fuss, the explanation likely wasn’t Shihou’s own ability; it was the power behind her family. A Kyoto noble house, perhaps?

But…

Given Kyoto and Tokyo’s mutual disdain, why would the daughter of a great Kyoto family be studying in Tokyo?

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