The next morning the clock showed 4:58.
Naritu sat up in bed, looked at the time and was surprised. He had woken earlier than usual today. He reached for his glasses and thought that after yesterday's incident the chances of running into students from Shaon had definitely increased. But to stay in the cram school, he absolutely must not run into them.
Then the alarm rang at 5:00. He turned it off and thought that the conditions remained the same. He was still in his own house.
He adjusted the glasses on his face. Today, like every day. Only studying. More studying. Prepare to the max. Need to wake up. The first thing after waking is to drink a full bottle of water.
Naritu started drinking. First thing in the morning: hydration. Water balance. Improves blood circulation. Prepare to the max. Endurance. Running. Autogenic training.
After a while he went outside and started running. Running. I can't miss a day. According to his beliefs, morning exercise was optimal for improving study efficiency. Prepare to the max. Failures are a reason to keep working. Every time he made a mistake he had to do strength training — it was like training his muscles. Solve problems. Solve them. Solve them until they are finished. If he made a mistake, strength training. He was ready to repeat this cycle endlessly.
After some time the clock showed 7:30. Naritu looked at it and thought it was time for a snack. He opened the refrigerator, took out a container and thought, thanks, Mom. Then he started eating and said, "Bon appétit." With those words he looked at the photograph of his father.
The clock showed 7:45. Okay. Time to go. He smiled and said that he was leaving.
Some time later, Naritu found himself in the hallway of the first floor of Shaon High School. He walked forward and thought, the main thing is to be careful. Don't run into the Shaon students.
Then he opened the door of his classroom a crack, and the bullies screamed.
Ren pointed his finger at him. "I knew it! It's him! No doubt about it."
Ken ran up to him, shouting, "Get him! It's him!"
Naritu took a defensive stance. What's going on?
The guys came right up to him and put their hands on his shoulders. Ken held out a student ID and asked whether it was his. Ren pushed Naritu's hair back off his forehead, took off his glasses and asked, "Can you see it now?"
"Yeah," Ken said. "It really is that guy."
What's going on? Are these the same guys from yesterday? Damn — I don't remember their faces.
Then Ken took Naritu by the hand and told him to come with him.
This is bad. If all of this comes out, there will be problems. They've remembered me and they'll take revenge. Word will spread to the preparatory school, where I face immediate expulsion. I have to avoid that.
Ren then handed him a piece of chalk and told him to take it.
Huh?
Ren walked up to the board, wiped it clean and told him to write his name on it.
Why? Is this some new way of humiliating the guy who's about to be beaten up? "What?" Naritu said.
Then he wrote his name, and thought that for now he would have to play by their rules.
After that Ren took the chalk back from him. "Great."
Freshman War, Naritu read, in the chalk above his own name.
Then Ren put his hand on his shoulder, turned to the rest of the class and shouted, "Hey, everyone, listen up. This is the same guy who knocked him out yesterday. He's our class's participant in the battle."
"What?" Naritu said.
Ken came closer and shouted, "Great!"
The rest of the class began to shout joyfully.
Teishi Matsuda remained sitting motionless.
Five years ago, Matsuda had adored bad boys. Since childhood he had devoured books about the histories of biker gangs and manga about difficult teenagers. He considered them strong, cool, real heroes. Shaon High School had given birth to countless legends. Matsuda really wanted to see real delinquents, and so, in the end, he decided to go there. At first he was filled with excitement and admiration. He thought that now he would see them up close.
After a while — high school, the parking lot behind the gym. One of the delinquents looked at him and said, "Hey, Matsuda. Go buy us some yakisoba bread. We're friends, right?"
Matsuda thought that reality was completely different from what he had imagined, but he smiled happily and replied, "Aha. I get it."
In manga, the delivery boys often became dear friends. He kept clinging to that thought.
However, he could not fit into their company. The delinquents he had read about protected their friends and were ready to break their fists for them. But here, everything was different.
Present time. Shaon High School, first year, class two.
The famous Shaon High tradition is about to begin, Matsuda thought. The Freshman War. I wonder who'll be chosen this year. Could it be me?
The next second, Fang kicked Matsuda in the back. "Hey. What are you looking at, four-eyes?"
Matsuda fell to the floor and shouted, "Damn!" He started to rise on trembling arms.
Fang flexed his fists, spat to the side and said, "I don't like this. I'm not arguing — he's strong enough. But are we supposed to listen to some nerd in glasses just because of that?" He clenched his fist and shouted, "It's irritating me even more."
Matsuda covered his head with his hands, trying to defend himself.
But the next second, Naritu stopped the attacker's fist.
Fang froze in surprise. Before he could say anything, Naritu looked at the time and said, "Eight fifty. Classes start."
After that he calmly sat down in his seat.
Ren, visibly nervous at first, clapped his hands and said, "Okay. Cool."
Ah, Matsuda thought. I've finally found him. This man is exactly like the ones I read about.
After some time Naritu looked at his watch. Twelve thirty-five. He glanced down at his lunch, clasped his hands in a prayer pose and said, "Bon appétit."