The S-Class Mage is a Gyaru!? Chapter 3: Practical Magic

{Akari}

I strut into my next class with Haruka still clinging to my arm, her tits pressing against with every step. That makeout session's basically nothing to us by now - I an, we've had our tongues down each other's throats more tis than I can count. Just thinking about it makes grin.

[God, her lips are always so soft...]

This classroom hits different from the last one. It's huge, with this cleared space in the center that's giving serious arena vibes. Stadium-style seats circle around it like so kind of magical colosseum.

Hell. Yes. Now, we're talking!

"Practical Applications of Combat Magic, eh?" Haruka reads from her schedule, basically lting into a seat and spreading her thick thighs. Her skirt rides up and I catch a flash of pink panties. "Think they'll let us blow shit up?"

I slide in next to her, letting my hand 'accidentally' brush against her thigh.

"Fuck, I hope so. Like, I'm so over all this theoretical bullshit. Who gives a fuck about mana flow patterns when you could just..." I wave my hand, letting a few sparkles of pink magic dance between my fingers.

"Not everyone's a genius like you, babe." Haruka pokes my side.

"Bitch, I am NOT a-"

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

The professor who just walked in? She's serving LOOKS.

She's young - like, maybe early thirties - with short, black hair, and arms absolutely COVERED in magical tattoos. They're literally moving under her skin, swirling and shifting like living ink. Her heels click against the floor as she walks, and the way she moves? Pure confidence.

[Now THIS is what I'm talking about. Hello, momma!]

"I'm Professor Zhang," she announces, voice carrying through the room like she owns it. "And unlike your other classes, this one's going to be... more hands-on."

Her eyes scan the room, and when they land on ? I feel that shit. There's recognition there, maybe even a hint of challenge.

"Before we get to it, I hear we have an S-Class among us today. First in decades. Miss Nakamura."

"Yes, ma'am!" I salute.

"Would you mind helping with a demonstration?"

[Fuck yeah!]

I stand up, making sure my skirt's sitting just right as I make my way down. The whispers follow as I make my way forward.

"What kind of demo we talkin' about?" I ask, rolling my shoulders. My uniform top stretches across my chest with the movent.

Professor Zhang's tattoos start glowing this electric blue that makes my skin tingle.

"Show how you'd handle multiple incoming attacks. Don't worry about holding back - the room's warded."

[Oh honey... you're gonna regret saying that~]

I kick off my platforms, wiggling my toes against the cool floor (I can do A LOT in these puppies, but I draw the line at actually fighting). Then I let my mana flow, feeling it wrap around . The magic makes my hair float slightly, and I know my pink eyes are probably glowing a little.

"Ready when you are, Prof!"

With barely any warning, the first spell cos at fast - this bolt of pure force aid right at my face.

But like, why dodge when you can just...

People gasp.

I catch that shit with one hand, dispersing it into a shower of pink sparkles that rain down around .

"Oh?" Professor Zhang's eyebrows shoot up. "Dispersing an attack that cleanly... Perhaps you won't disappoint after all."

[Really? I an... that was kinda basic, wasn't it?]

Then she really starts moving.

Spells are flying everywhere. Fire, ice, lightning. And, these condensed balls of pure mana that could probably punch through walls, all making their way to .

[That's a little bit more like it!]

Still, not nearly enough to stump .

I flick my wrist at each attack, dispersing them like they're nothing but a fancy light show. It's nothing, really. The key to active dispelling like this is just knowing and understanding how a spell is made, and basically recreating it just as it's about to hit you, canceling the forces out and leaving nothing but sparkles in the air behind.

It's kinda like parrying in one of those fantasy gas... Not that I'm much of a gar.

The whispers around get louder, and - wait, is that ~my~ hot goth girl watching?

[Oh fuck yes, Reina's in this class too!]

I catch her eye and throw her a wink, right before catching another spell and letting it dance on my palm for a mont.

"Is that seriously all you got?" I call out, dispersing the spell with a flick. "Co on, teach. You can do better than that, right?"

Professor Zhang's smile turns wicked.

"You want more? Well, allow to indulge you a little."

Her tattoos are practically blinding now, and she's gritting her teeth as she launches this absolutely insane combination attack.

[Now THIS is what I'm talking about!]

I lock in.

One by one, I grab every spell she throws at . I know each one. I've studied them all, back ho, in my high school library, on the phone as I sat in bed before I went to sleep. The magic tingles against my skin as I gather it all into this swirling sphere above my head, compress it until it's tiny as fuck, then blow it a kiss goodbye.

BOOM.

The marble explodes into a shower of cherry blossoms, pink petals raining down over everyone's shocked faces.

"WHAT!?" One student goes.

"Impossible."

"That was so clean!"

"That's... that's incredible," Professor Zhang breathes, staring at my handiwork. "You didn't even need a containnt circle..."

"Circles are for basic bitches." I shrug, already heading back to my seat. "No offense, Prof. I know you were holding back."

She was. See, here's the thing:

If a spell you try to disperse is *a lot* stronger than yours, your little magical parry ain't worth shit. You'll be crushed. So, I knew my dear professor was definitely keeping things light.

Haruka's practically vibrating as I slide in next to her, pressing her huge boobs against my arm. The wine of victory, truly.

"Bitch, you didn't have to flex that hard!" She whispers, squeezing tight.

I smirk, watching Professor Zhang try to compose herself while cherry blossoms settle in her hair.

"Yeah," I say, catching Reina staring at again. "But wasn't it fun though?"

[Maybe this fancy-ass school won't be so boring after all.]

---

"Last class of the day," I say, pulling up my schedule on my phone. "Advanced Runic Theory."

Haruka pouts those perfect glossed lips of hers, pressing her body against mine one last ti. Her tits squish against my arm, and I swear to god, this girl knows exactly what she's doing.

"This is the one I don't have with you," she whines. "Try not to miss too much, kay?"

"Bitch, you know I will." I pull her in for a quick kiss, loving the way she lts against . Her tongue flicks against mine before we separate, and I catch Professor Zhang giving us the side-eye. Whatever.

The classroom's smaller than the others, with these desks arranged in a semicircle like so kind of magical book club. I scan the room and-

[Well, well, well. Look who it is~]

That hot goth feynal's already there, her cute little nose buried in a textbook. Her black-painted nails tap against the desk as she reads, and fuck if that isn't weirdly hot.

Without hesitation, I slide into the empty seat next to her, letting my thigh brush against hers 'accidentally.'

"We gotta stop eting like this, cutie~"

Her ear twitches - black and velvety and so fucking adorable - but she doesn't look up. Those black-painted lips curve into the tiniest smile though, and my heart does this weird flip.

"Do you ever stop flirting?"

"Only when I'm sleeping," I wink, leaning closer. "And even then, I probably flirt in my dreams."

That gets an eye roll, but the smile stays.

Progress!

Professor Sato walks in looking like every stereotype of an old magic professor ever - balding, thick glasses, robes that probably cost more than my apartnt. He imdiately launches into so boring shit about runic arrays and their applications in modern spellcraft.

[God, his voice could put a coffee addict to sleep.]

I find myself sneaking glances at my seatmate instead of paying attention. The way she takes notes is weirdly srizing - each letter perfect and precise, just like her winged eyeliner. Her pale skin practically glows under the classroom's magical lighting.

"You're staring," she whispers, still not looking up.

"Can you bla ? You're way more interesting than whatever he's talking about." I let my eyes trail over her profile, admiring how her black lipstick makes her lips look even fuller.

"So of us are trying to learn, you know."

"Please," I scoff, shifting in my seat so my skirt rides up just a bit higher. "Like you need to learn this basic shit either. I saw you in combat class. Those fire spells? Hot as fuck... No pun intended."

That finally gets her to look at , those piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly.

"You were watching ?"

"Baby, everyone was watching you. But I was definitely enjoying the view more than most~"

A slight blush colors those pale cheeks, barely visible under her perfect makeup. She turns back to her notes, but I catch the way her tail uncurls slightly from around her waist. It's black and sleek, like the rest of her aesthetic.

[Oh yeah, she's definitely into . I am totes not delusional.]

"Miss Nakamura," Professor Sato's voice cuts through our whispered flirting. "Since you seem so chatty, perhaps you'd like to explain the difference between cyclic and linear runic arrays?"

I don't miss a beat.

"Linear arrays process mana in sequence, one rune at a ti, like a magical assembly line," I say, inspecting my pink nails. "Cyclic arrays create a feedback loop, amplifying the spell's power but requiring more precise control. Most modern mages prefer linear 'cause they're safer, but cyclic arrays are way more fun if you know what you're doing. Which I do."

The professor blinks at through those thick-ass glasses, looking like soone just told him magic isn't real.

"I... yes, that's correct."

"Course it is," I mutter, then turn back to my goth queen. "So, you gonna tell your na, or do I have to keep calling you 'hot goth girl' in my head?"

Those black lips twitch again, and fuck if it isn't the cutest thing I've seen all day.

"Reina."

"Reina," I repeat, loving how it feels on my tongue.

Like dark chocolate and kisses in the moonlight.

"Cute na for a cute girl."

She groans, but I catch that blush deepening.

[Oh yeah. She's totally into .]

---

I lean against the cold classroom wall, my phone's glow illuminating my face as I text Haruka:

[]: last class done omg

[Ruka💕]: yasss girl freedom 🥳

[Ruka💕]: what's the move???

[]: the move is hauling my tired ass ho

[Ruka💕]: LAAAA 🥱 call if u wanna do smth

[]: bitch pls i'm broke as hell, go get snacks for tho 👀

[Ruka💕]: u wish 💋

I smirk, shoving my phone in my bag as I step out into the evening air. The breeze hits different up here, crisp and clean... like everything else about this fancy-ass school.

It's not really sothing I'm used to.

The campus is alive with trust fund babies heading ho, their designer bags probably worth more than my entire wardrobe. They're climbing into limos, magical carriages, and other rides that scream "daddy's money."

I swear, I saw one of these bitches stepping into a personal teleportation circle.

[Must be nice, must be nice!]

As for ... Well, I adjust my bag and start walking, hands shoved deep in my pockets.

My platforms click against the pristine sidewalks until they give way to the chaos of the city streets below. The magical glow of shop signs and enchanted streetlights paint everything in neon, but I don't stop to enjoy the view. Seen it all before.

Rich assholes in designer robes give these looks as I pass by, like I'm sothing that crawled out of the gutter. Right, this is the nice side of town. Their sneers say everything: the blonde gyaru doesn't belong here. And you know what?

They're not wrong. Crescent Moon might've opened its gates for , but I know damn well I'll never be part of their world.

Ho sweet ho is this tiny-ass studio apartnt squeezed between a laundromat and a convenience store. The elevator's been broken since forever, so I take the stairs two at a ti in these killer platforms (and that's talent too, baby).

I unlock the door with a flick of mana - at least I can save money on a key - and step inside my kingdom of sand.

One room, a couch that's seen better decades doubling as my bed, and a kitchenette that works when it feels like it. My desk's drowning in textbooks and papers, 'cause being S-Class ans doing the work, even if you're naturally gifted.

My bag hits the couch with a thud, and I kick off these platforms with a moan that's borderline pornographic. My toes curl against the worn carpet, and fuck, that feels good.

"Ugh," I groan, peeling off my blazer and yeeting it into a corner. "What a fucking day."

The skirt goes next, followed by these thigh-highs that probably cost more than my groceries. I stand there in my cropped tank and panties, staring at my sad little fridge like it might suddenly spawn a feast.

[Nope. Empty as my wallet.]

This apartnt, unimpressive as it is, cost a lot, after all.

Shrugging, I strip off everything else, letting the cool air kiss my skin as my cock springs free. Yeah, that's right. I'm packing. So's Haruka, actually. Just another reason we naturally beca besties, I guess.

It's thick and smooth and heavy between my legs, bobbing slightly as I move. Usually I'd be all about so self-love right now, but honestly? I'm fucking exhausted.

I collapse onto the couch, spreading my legs wide as I lean back against the cushions. For a mont, the cheap hooker aesthetic I'm going for, my grades, the bad looks I got the entire day. None of it matters. I'm a vegetable. A vegetable with big titties and a big dick.

Staring up at my cracked ceiling, I let out this long breath that feels like it's been trapped in my chest all day.

"What a day," I mutter, feeling a smile tug at my lips despite everything. "S-Class, baby. Living the fucking dream, eh?"

I chuckle weakly.

And you know what? I'm not entirely wrong.

Even with the empty fridge and the broken elevator and all these rich bitches looking down on ... I am. I really am living my dream.

Or, at least, I'm ready to make it a reality.