The morning classes ended promptly at twelve-fifty. On Saturdays, school was only for half a day, with the afternoon designated as free ti. Most students chose to go ho, while so stayed for club activities. Clubs like the baseball team, aiming for Koshien, never had a day off; they trained daily. Others, such as the Kendo club, chose not to train on Saturdays and Sundays.
Aozawa usually stayed ho to train. For him, Sword Dao training was less a sport and more a way to temper his will. Rewarding himself, as long as he was healthy, was sothing he could do every day. But persisting in daily study and exercise wasn’t easy for anyone. This kind of hardship was different from life’s usual struggles; it was sothing that could truly temper a person’s willpower.
Aozawa packed his bag and headed out of the classroom. Hojo Tetsuji followed, the anxiety on his face unconcealed by his sunglasses. He sighed, "Aozawa, I haven’t finished my manga manuscript."
Aozawa asked with so confusion, "Wasn’t that plot approved?"
"My editor shot it down, asking what the heck I’d drawn!" Hojo Tetsuji, imitating his editor’s words, continued, "He said, ’Such clichés are no longer applicable! Having the female lead kidnapped by a rival now? That’s guaranteed to get your series canceled! If you don’t want it canceled, hurry up and redraw it!’"
As he spoke, Hojo Tetsuji clutched his head, his face a mask of agony. "The deadline’s looming, and I haven’t drawn a single page! What am I going to do?"
Aozawa, having changed into his outdoor shoes, said, "I see. I suppose I overlooked that. Why don’t you jump straight to the sumr arc for *Galaxy*? Set it on a planet like Hawaii and draw girls in swimsuits. The ocean, the beach, girls in swimsuits... I believe that’s a tiless romantic fantasy for n."
Upon hearing this, a lightbulb went off in Hojo Tetsuji’s mind. "That’s it! That’s absolutely it! I’ve imagined so many scenarios, but never the beach! Aozawa, you’ve really given an idea! Next Monday, it’s the swimsuit Chapter! Wait a minute... If Little Sayuri sees sothing like this, won’t she think I’m a pervert?"
As he finished, Hojo Tetsuji leaned in and whispered cautiously into Aozawa’s ear, afraid of being overheard. It wasn’t about the content itself. He was simply afraid that if he spoke too loudly, Yoshikawa Sayuri might overhear him calling her ’Little Sayuri’ instead of using her surna—such a familiar address made him cautious.
Aozawa patted his shoulder and headed outside. "Don’t worry," he said, "girls are hornier than you think."
That was a lesson he’d learned from his experiences with Morimoto Chiyoda and Ayatsuki Iroha. Don’t be fooled by Ayatsuki Iroha’s heart racing from just holding hands. When it really ca down to it, her proactiveness far exceeded Aozawa’s imagination. Just like that morning, when she had unexpectedly asserted her claim in front of Maggie, completely catching Aozawa off guard. Those boys who thought girls weren’t interested in lewd things were simply too naive. When it ca to racy topics, girls were often bolder and more unrestrained than boys.
Hojo Tetsuji glared. "Don’t talk nonsense! Little Sayuri isn’t that kind of girl."
Aozawa said with a serious expression, "Are you telling you’d dislike Yoshikawa for having such a normal human trait?"
"What are you blabbering about? No matter how Little Sayuri changes, I’ll still like her!" Hojo Tetsuji retorted quickly, then blinked. A hint of confusion flickered in his eyes behind the sunglasses. He felt like he was being talked in circles and, after a mont’s thought, gave up trying to unravel such complicated matters. "Let’s go with your idea."
He and Aozawa brainstord a romantic seaside plot as they walked towards the school gates, all the way to Ayase Station. Only then did Hojo Tetsuji realize. He asked in surprise, "Aren’t you going ho?"
"I’m off to hang out in Ikebukuro."
"Oh, then I’ll go back to draw my manga. Darn it, I have to finish the draft by Monday!"
「Ikebukuro Station.」
Aozawa didn’t spot the class president. It was because Ikebukuro Station was too crowded. Even if they had been on the sa train, finding each other would have been difficult. Faced with the choice between ssaging the class president to ask if she’d arrived at Ikebukuro and using his superpower, he chose the latter.
Aozawa crouched down, his hand touching the ground as he used his Catalyst sensing ability. In an instant, everything within a one-kiloter radius centered on him flooded into his mind, forming a series of images. Looking at the jumble of colors, like a kindergartener’s crayon scribbles, Aozawa suddenly realized the problem: from this perspective, he couldn’t see faces at all. But Aozawa dismissed that issue. Identifying the class president by her uniform, matching stockings, and backpack would be enough. Among those images, the one matching these three criteria had blue and white stripes. Those colors are so her.She hates yellow, so she naturally wouldn’t wear accessories that give off such an adult vibe.
Aozawa deactivated his Catalyst sensing ability and made his way to the Maid Cafe. As he neared the street, his phone vibrated. Unlocking it, he saw a ssage from the class president.
"Mr. Aozawa, I’m already at the cafe."
The colorful text jumped out. Aozawa replied, "No problem, I’ll be right there."
Two minutes later, Aozawa pushed open the cafe door.
TING-A-LING!
The crisp sound of the doorbell rang out. The Maid Cafe was bustling with custors, yet the seats by the window were still vacant. For most people, entering such a cafe and choosing a seat by the window was undoubtedly a challenging feat. It’s like I have a VIP reserved seat at this Maid Cafe, Aozawa thought.
"Welco ho, Master."
The welcoming maid called out, then recognized Aozawa. She smiled. "Master, would you like Nashi’s service again today?"
"Hmm."
"You’re quite lucky, Master. Nashi has just started her shift."
"I know," Aozawa replied casually, causing the maid’s eyes to light up with the thrill of soone eager for gossip.
So, they’ve been in contact already!The love triangle—or rather, the drama—between Nashi, this young man, and that dyed-haired Hot Girl! The welcoming maid grew more excited the more she thought about it. Of course, she didn’t neglect her duties and called out, "Nashi, please take the Master to his seat."
"Yes."
Arakawa Reina responded, striding forward. Her thick braids were now undone, cascading in curls over her shoulders. Her black-frad glasses were removed, and her eyes, now wearing contact lenses, looked bright and spirited. Every ti he saw this transformation of hers, Aozawa would silently give her a thumbs-up.Beautiful won, like beautiful flowers and scenic views, always have a way of relaxing a man’s mind.
"Master, please follow ." Arakawa Reina smiled, leading Aozawa to his usual spot by the window. She opened the nu. "Master, what would you like to order?"
"Class President, since you’re treating , why don’t you order for us?" Aozawa left the ordering to Arakawa Reina and said with a grin, "Instead of that, I’d like to consult you on how to ease the tension between two girls."
"Eh?!" Surprise flickered across Arakawa Reina’s face. She wasn’t good at ordering for others, nor was she adept at giving advice on such matters. But Mr. Aozawa is asking ; that ans he trusts ! As his friend, I have to help!
Arakawa Reina took a deep breath, making a significant decision in her heart. She bent down, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear with one hand, and brought her soft lips close to Aozawa’s ear, her warm breath brushing against his neck. "Mr. Aozawa, I think if you keep doing... this and that... non-stop, the other person won’t be able to take it and will eventually suggest adding soone else to share the burden..." The Class President’s earlobes turned slightly red.
Aozawa was stunned. He realized she was giving her suggestion in all seriousness, not joking. "Uh... I’ll think about it."
"I’ll go order first then," Arakawa Reina answered with a blush, turning to flee the spot. Oh god, what did I just say?!
BEEP.
Phoenix Academy Maggie’s phone vibrated. She unlocked it with her fingerprint to see a photo sent by Aozawa: a pile of exquisite desserts and a cup of fragrant coffee.
"This is my lunch today."
Under the picture was his ssage. Phoenix Academy Maggie, sitting in the car on her way ho, typed a reply, "Weren’t you going to eat at your beloved Morimoto’s today?"
"She’s working overti and isn’t free. I’m at a Maid Cafe in Ikebukuro," Aozawa replied promptly.
Whenever Phoenix Academy Maggie saw how quickly he read and replied to her ssages, a thought always surfaced: Is he only chatting with ? Her emotions made her want to believe it, but her rational side suggested that Aozawa probably just typed fast.
"A Maid Cafe, huh? It truly suits your interests." Phoenix Academy Maggie quickly sent a vomiting emoji.
"Maggie, don’t underestimate Maid Cafes. The maids here are genuine maids. Through their sweet smiles and good attitudes, they serve every custor that cos in, warming their weary hearts. This is a job full of positive energy. Don’t look at it with such a prejudiced view."
A string of ssages like this landed in Phoenix Academy Maggie’s eyes as nothing but excuses. She typed back, "Is your heart so weary?"
"That’s not a topic to casually discuss with others. A true man should sit alone in a corner, silently licking his wounds."
"Just keep spouting nonsense," Phoenix Academy Maggie replied, not believing for a second that Aozawa had any wounds to lick.
As they chatted idly, the Bentley stopped in the Phoenix family’s parking lot. She replied, "We’ll talk next ti."
After the ssage registered as read, Aozawa quickly sent a panda jackhamring emoji, then swiftly retracted it. "Sorry, sent that by mistake."
"You’d better have." Phoenix Academy Maggie had no idea where he found such indecent emojis, especially one where Aozawa’s head was superimposed on it. Subconsciously, she pressed her thighs together, closed the chat app, and headed for the dining room.
As expected, her mother wasn’t ho. A single-portion lunch was laid out on the table. Phoenix Academy Maggie ate a bit, then changed into her archery outfit. After practicing for a suitable amount of ti, she stopped and switched into a proper evening gown, ready to greet the heir of the Morgans Group.
At the helipad, the roar of an airplane echoed in the sky as a private jet approached the Phoenix family’s helipad for landing. Phoenix Academy Maggie looked up, her face displaying a practiced smile as she switched to her proper young lady persona.
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