"Hey, Satou-san, mind switching seats with ?"
Yukima Azuma clasped his hands together, half-jokingly pleading as he made the request.
Satou, caught off guard, hesitated—but only for a mont.
He nodded.
The social gap between the two was just too wide.
Sure, Satou technically could say no, but doing so would only make him the target of cold stares from the rest of the class.
"Alright... but why?" he asked, curious.
Azuma gave a subtle glance in Eriri's direction.
Everyone instinctively followed his gaze—and instantly understood.
After all, she wasn't just pretty.
She was ultra-beautiful.
Many of them had already been lowkey watching Eriri from the mont she walked in.
"So that's Yukima-san's type..." a girl murmured softly, her tone unreadable.
Actually, if you want to stay socially flexible in class, it's usually best not to make your romantic interests public too soon.
Once people think you like soone, it forms an invisible barrier—
mbers of the opposite sex might feel like they're stepping into forbidden territory if they try to approach.
And when the girl in question is Eriri?
Yeah, most would rather not burn in that fire.
Competing with soone like her was... impossible.
Moth to a fla? More like ant under a magnifying glass.
Azuma calmly placed a finger over his lips, signaling for quiet.
Then he said casually, "Keep this between us—and don't tell Eriri."
"I've known her since elentary school. Watched her grow up. Her mom even asked to look after her."
"So yeah... you get it."
Instant comprehension dawned across the room.
The female students exhaled as if a burden had been lifted.
To their ears, Azuma had just declared: She's like a little sister to .
And in girl-code, once a guy says that, the girl in question is basically erased from the battlefield.
Off-limits.
No threat.
In fact, so even started reconsidering Eriri entirely—maybe befriending her could score them points with Azuma.
The guys, on the other hand?
They saw it differently.
To them, it just confird a long-standing bond between the two.
Childhood friends.
Ga over.
Who were they kidding thinking they had a chance?
That was the brilliance of Azuma's rhetoric.
Every word he said was true—but he guided their conclusions exactly where he wanted them to go.
"Seriously—don't tell her." With that final reminder, Azuma grabbed his bag and walked toward Eriri.
Eriri, at that mont, was on the verge of exploding.
Her jealousy had long since reached a boiling point.
She sat stiffly in her seat, arms crossed, lips pressed in a pout.
Seeing Azuma approach, she let out a sharp snort and deliberately turned her head away.
He didn't say anything.
Just switched seats.
Now, he sat in the desk beside hers.
If Toyosaki didn't have individual desks, they would've been full-on deskmates.
Just behind them—Katou gumi.
She watched Azuma moving his things with wide, curious eyes. Absentmindedly, she twirled a lock of hair between her fingers.
anwhile, Eriri couldn't help herself.
She turned to see where Azuma had gone—and found herself suddenly face-to-face with him, just a few inches apart.
Her eyes widened in shock.
"Hey! What are you doing here?!"
She leaned in slightly, whispering in a low voice filled with agitation:
"Why'd you switch seats and co over here?"
But her anger had mostly faded by now.
Underneath that sharp tone, she felt a burst of sweetness.
Eriri was the kind of girl who—if the boy she liked showed even a little care—would lt on the spot.
Azuma glanced at her.
"What's it to you?" he replied coldly.
He couldn't afford to soften up now. Not yet.
Eriri gave a quiet huff, but didn't protest.
In her mind, she had already labeled Azuma as a tsundere.
Clearly, he ca over on purpose—but now he was acting aloof?
Classic tsundere.
CLACK!
The classroom door burst open.
A sharp sound echoed through the room as a figure strode in and tapped the podium.
Everyone imdiately went silent.
A woman with long, flowing pink hair walked to the front of the room.
She wore a fitted blazer, black stockings, and radiated the composed elegance of an older sister-type—but her expression was pure frost.
She was stunning.
Beautiful enough to rival Kasumigaoka Utaha.
But her cold deanor sent shivers down the students' spines.
"I am your horoom teacher—Kirisu Mafuyu."
She turned and wrote her na cleanly on the board.
"I hope we can get along."
The students' reactions were mixed.
On the one hand—hot teacher.
On the other—her voice alone made them sit straighter in fear.
The closer students swore they felt an actual draft coming from her icy glare.
"Toyosaki Academy does not implent class-switching. Unless sothing unforeseen happens, I will be your horoom teacher for the next three years."
"To start off on the right foot—and to help everyone get to know each other—please introduce yourselves. Starting from that side."
She gestured to the far left corner of the room.
And so, the introductions began.
"I'm Satou Kazuma, from Kurenosato Middle. I like eating, sleeping, and gaming. Please take care of ."
"Kunimi Yuuma. My thing's basketball. If you're into sports, hit up about the basketball club."
"My na is—"
One by one, the students introduced themselves.
Then—
"I'm Sawamura Spencer Eriri."
Heads turned.
"My mother is Japanese, my father is British. My hair color's natural."
"My hobby and specialty is drawing. I look forward to working with everyone."
Her elegant tone and composed posture silenced any lingering whispers.
A slight stir rippled through the class at the ntion of her mixed heritage.
Combined with her already noble aura, most people silently placed her in the ojou-sama category.
But this ti, instead of envy or distance—there was interest, admiration, even friendliness.
Thanks to Azuma's earlier "big brother" setup, Eriri's image was already pre-softened.
Now, paired with her own poise and talent, her popularity soared.
Just like that, the Eriri Effect began to take hold of Class 1-E.
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