Chapter 295

“Goodbye, Chinami.”

“Goodbye to you too, close friend. See you tomorrow.”

After grabbing a bite and parting ways with Chinami, Renka caught the train. She had noticed it that morning too, but taking public transit after riding in Matsuda's car all vacation felt strangely refreshing.

‘Matsuda... that bastard...’

Thinking of Matsuda brought back what had happened in the Club Room. She had unconsciously let out a bitch-like moan when he suddenly spanked her... Just remembering it made her want to die of embarrassment.

Setting the coach aside, even the club members seemed surprised... Surely no one was getting any weird ideas, right?

Regardless, she was going to curse out MK to pay him back for today's massive humiliation. This petty revenge was the only method available to her right now. Doing it to his face was out of the question; she was too terrified of Matsuda's retaliation.

Snorting at her own timid attitude, Renka arrived home and loudly announced her return the moment she stepped into the entryway. She was about to head straight for her room when—

“Renka! A package arrived from your uncles! It’s on the dining table, so take a look!”

Hearing her mother’s voice from upstairs, she turned her gaze toward the table. Her ‘uncles’ were the twins who ran a business on the outskirts of town. A sudden package when it wasn’t even a holiday? Knowing their mischievous nature, they were probably trying to pull some sort of prank.

A small, thick package sat on the table. Renka picked it up, checked the shipping label, and tore it open.

Inside was a square paper envelope swathed in bubble wrap. A small note had been taped to the outside.

[It came out well, so we're sending it. We miss you, so drop by when you're bored.]

It was just a single line. Renka chuckled at her uncles' blunt message, then peeled off the bubble wrap to check the contents.

‘This is...’

This was definitely... the photo they had taken together after Matsuda finished working during his first visit to her uncles’ shop. It was the same photo that had been hanging out front. They must have taken it down to send to her... but hadn't her uncles said last time that they needed to keep it up to draw in customers with Matsuda's face?

What were they intending by sending it to her despite that? Were they telling her to drop by with Matsuda? If so, maybe she should ask him if he could go this weekend.

The overhead light reflected off the laminated photo, obscuring Matsuda's face. Turning her back to the glare to study the picture, Renka let a smile slip without realizing it as she entered her room.

A handsome young man stood between two fierce-looking middle-aged men. He looked incredibly out of place, yet somehow, he fit right in. Did he look a bit like her older uncle's son?

“Ugh...!!”

Catching her own thought, Renka frantically shook her head. Matsuda as her older uncle's son... Then wouldn't that mean she had slept with her cousin? It was just her imagination, of course, but the mere idea went against the laws of nature, sending a sudden wave of instinctive repulsion crashing over her.

Renka carefully set the photo down on her bed and pondered where to keep it.

Pinning it up somewhere highly visible would make it seem like her feelings for Matsuda were massive, which somehow hurt her pride. Plus, her mother or father would probably tease her if they saw it. At the same time, carelessly tossing it into a desk drawer didn't appeal to her either...

After agonizing over what to do, she ultimately decided to place the photo in the corner of her desk. Right beneath the shelving unit. She sat at her desk occasionally, so keeping it there meant she could steal glances at it from time to time, even if not constantly. The shelf above would also protect it from dust, making it an excellent choice.

Very satisfied with her choice, Renka cast one last glance at the photo before grabbing her Cell Phone and launching the AnyShare app. She immediately sent a message to MK.

[MK.]

If he didn't reply within two minutes, she was going to say something. Mind made up, Renka left her room, went down to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. Just as she poured water into a cup and was about to take a sip, her phone buzzed!

[What is it?]

It had taken right about two minutes, but she wasn't going to just let it go. Why? Because the entire reason she had messaged Matsuda in the first place was to pick a fight and mess with him. She knew it was childish, but so what? As long as she was satisfied and having fun, that was all that mattered.

Taking it easy, Renka slowly drank her water and tapped away on her Cell Phone.

[Why is your reply so late?]

[Isn't this pretty fast?]

[It's too slow.]

[I can't check the app constantly, so be understanding.]

[I don't think I can be understanding, though?]

[Why are you picking a fight? If you really want fast replies, give me your Lime ID.]

That was absolutely, positively out of the question, even if it killed her. Creating a secondary ID was impossible, too. Any potential for Ino-chan's true identity to be exposed had to be blocked at all costs.

[Your pickup line is incredibly dated. It's tacky.]

[That wasn't a pickup line, just a fact. If you have complaints about late replies, you should use a dedicated messenger app.]

[No.]

[Then just deal with the late replies.]

[How rude.]

Had he been rendered speechless by her completely unjustified, baseless criticism? Matsuda's replies stopped. Imagining him scoffing in disbelief, Renka sent another message.

[Are you admitting it?]

[No. I just can't fathom where you get the confidence to act up like this.]

[Because I'm anonymous.]

[Understood.]

In the past, even if he didn't curse, he wouldn't have backed down so meekly... What was up with him? Feeling a strange sense of anxiety creeping in, Renka quickly changed the subject.

[What were you doing?]

[I was just thinking about this and that.]

[Thinking about what?]

[I was seriously contemplating how I could educate you, Ino-chan.]

Renka's entire body flinched at the word ‘educate’. In reality, she was already suffering all kinds of humiliation under the guise of Matsuda's education, and now he intended to extend those evil clutches to Ino-chan too? She knew he had a taste for subjugating strong-willed people, but seriously... he was a total lunatic.

But was he taking an interest in Ino-chan now? Was that why he said that? For a playboy who was already seeing Hanazawa Miyuki, Chinami, and even herself, trying to reach out to Ino-chan as well—wasn't he completely shameless?

Of course, Renka herself was equally shameless for not rejecting his touch while knowing he was seeing those two... but it still rubbed her the wrong way.

Regardless, seeing Matsuda seemingly interested in her alter ego, Ino-chan, made her feel incredibly strange. It was both bad and good... a vague feeling of being annoyed, yet not quite.

[What do you mean educate... You mean train. MK, you're a fanatic for the training genre, aren't you?]

[It's better to use refined words. By the way, did you read all the manga I recommended?]

What a joke. Acting all polite here when he said whatever he wanted to her in real life, appropriate or not, without any filter. Grumbling inwardly, Renka sent her reply.

[No. It's boring.]

[I told you to read it.]

[Why should I listen to you, MK?]

[How annoying.]

[(๑ᵔ⩊ᵔ๑) Hearing you say it's annoying makes me feel great. I have things to do, so I'll be going now.]

[Alright. We'll see about that soon.]

‘Huh...?’

The moment she saw Matsuda's message, Renka's heart sank. His words about seeing about it soon felt incredibly loaded with meaning.

He was clearly saying it to Ino-chan, yet it felt as if he were speaking directly to her in real life. As the anxiety from earlier threatened to return, Renka forcefully calmed her mind.

It was just her imagination. She was only feeling a guilty conscience because she was hiding Ino-chan's true identity. As long as she was careful, it would be fine. Nodding vigorously with that resolve, Renka sent one last message.

[Screw you.]

The second day at the Academy still held the freshness of the first. However, unlike the easygoing first day, the moment classes began in earnest, despair quickly clouded the students' faces.

“Tsk, tsk... You're all wiped out.”

The math teacher clicking his tongue at the students, who were slouched over like zombies, was a bonus. Come to think of it, I hadn't gone to see the school nurse yesterday. If I had time today, I should drop by.

Resting my chin on my arm on the desk, I had been staring at the blackboard and lost in random thoughts, but I snapped back to reality when I felt a very faint prickling sensation on the back of my hand.

“Pay attention, idiot.”

Miyuki, sitting next to me, was pressing the tip of her mechanical pencil against my hand without actually hurting me. She poked it several times so that the indented flesh formed the shape of a heart; the sight of it was both funny and cute, drawing out an involuntary chuckle.

“You're the one who can't seem to pay attention because you're too busy drawing on my hand.”

Miyuki giggled silently at my words and continued moving her mechanical pencil without a sound. Meanwhile, the bell signaling the end of class rang, and as the teacher left, she boldly pulled my hand into the center of her desk, grabbed a felt-tip pen, and got to work.

“Is that a water-based pen?”

“Be quiet.”

Had she suddenly grown bored and just wanted some entertainment? I needed to go to the bathroom, but I'd have to hold it in for now.

As I sat quietly with my butt glued to the seat, watching Miyuki draw on the back of my hand, I perked up my ears at the conversation my classmates were having.

“I heard the boxing club was incredibly popular yesterday. They don't even have promotional posters up yet, but all the prospective freshmen who like sports stopped by at least once?”

“Really? Why? Does our Academy's boxing club have anything worth showing off?”

“One of our peers going into their second year won the national tournament last year, remember? They said in an interview that it was all thanks to the coach, and I guess that got famous.”

“So they're trying to join because of the coach?”

“Probably.”

“Isn't it common to thank your teacher? What kind of interview did they do for that to happen?”

“I don't know either.”

A student taking the coach's guidance to heart, practicing hard, and achieving results... Isn't that a cliché straight out of a shounen manga? To think such a thing would happen to an extra and not me, the protagonist... It was absolutely deplorable.

But why hadn't any prospective freshmen come to our Kendo Club? The girls' team's results went without saying, and the boys' team had also secured two runner-up finishes in the recent tournament, so surely they deserved to be recognized as a powerhouse, right?

We even had a player right here who had won a Rookie of the Year award and two MVPs in that tournament, not to mention Renka, who swept up awards just by participating... Were there simply no kids interested in Kendo among this year's incoming freshmen? Or had they missed us because the Kendo Club Room was on the outskirts?

Whatever the reason, I felt a severe sense of deprivation. If Renka or Chinami ended up stressing over club recruitment issues later, maybe I should storm into the boxing club and forcibly drag a few kids back with me.

“All done.”

While I was lost in my thoughts, Miyuki lifted my hand with a satisfied expression. A red heart was drawn on the back of my hand, with a man and a woman inside it. It was exactly like the characters Miyuki had drawn in her notebook before, and the ones she had drawn at that 24-hour ramen shop. Reminded of the time Miyuki and I were flirting, my heart felt a fresh flutter of nostalgia.

“You drew it well. But I'm asking if it's a water-based pen.”

“It's oil-based, though?”

“Then it'll be hard to wash off.”

“You want to wash it off? Even though I drew it for you?”

“That's not it, but...”

“I'm joking. It's water-based.”

“Can I go to the bathroom now?”

“To wash it off?”

“No... nature's calling.”

“Then you can go. But if you wash your hands, only get water on your palms.”

She seemed worried the drawing would get washed away. If she was going to be like that, she should have just used an oil-based pen from the start. Miyuki was starting to adopt some of my stubborn tendencies as she became more colored by my influence... So scary.

“Got it.”