Dinner at the Hoshikawa household was curry again, still Japanese-style, but this time with beef brisket instead of chicken breast, and using the mildly spicy roux. Having it once or twice was fine, but if curry kept showing up on the table every night, Harutaki felt he’d end up nauseous at the mere sight of it.
Still, his little sister Ayaka already had her hands full with school every day. Expecting her to come home and prepare four different dinners with variety on top of that seemed too cruel.
Guess I’ll have to start taking over dinner duty myself…
With that thought in mind, he changed into pajamas and lay back on his bed, phone raised above his face. He unlocked the screen and began scrolling through his social apps to check for unread messages.
It was a habit carried over from his previous life; every night before going to sleep, he had to make sure no messages were left unanswered. Only after sending the proper, polite replies could he rest easy.
Thankfully, unlike before, he wasn’t drowning in notifications from class group chats, hobby groups, or study groups. Back then, he’d had to juggle countless relationships, never ignoring girls who liked him, but also never letting things get close enough to cause misunderstandings.
Now, it was blissfully simple; just seven lonely chat threads sat quietly on his list.
The first was from Ren.
[Sorry, Hoshikawa-kun, I couldn’t help you out today… 🙏] — Read
[I went to Asama-sensei for advice on my own. I hope that didn’t cause trouble.] — Read
[If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it.] — Read
He had sent them in the evening, but Harutaki hadn’t seen them until now. He’d been busy. First came the “date” with Shihou-san at Starbucks, then that talk with Shirasagi-senpai.
After thinking for a bit, he replied with gratitude, assuring him he understood his reasons and didn’t mind his silence or consulting the homeroom teacher. Then, to break the stiff mood, he closed the conversation with a joke:
[Then can you help me out? I just fell for Shihou-san earlier today, and this evening I fell for a third-year, Shirasagi-senpai. What do I do? 😂]
The moment he sent it, it was marked “read.” Whether from guilt or responsibility, Murai clearly still cared about him.
[Give me one of them!!] — Read
The second chat was from Miho, who had only recently added him.
[If you go straight out the school gate, left turn, second intersection, there’s a dessert shop. Their chocolate banana parfait is sooo good! 🤩] — Read
[Photo] — Read
[Whenever I’m feeling down 😞, stopping by there perks me right back up 💖!] — Read
Her replies were full of emojis, and the selfies she’d taken with the parfait looked straight out of an influencer’s feed. He couldn’t deny they cheered him up.
[🐱💖🐱🍴🐱💥]
He picked a few silly cat stickers in her style and sent them back before moving on.
Next up was Haruto, much more heated.
[You seriously went on a date with Shihou-san without telling me?!?] — Read
[Photo] — Read
Attached was a screenshot from the anonymous school forum: “#3 on the Ideal Girlfriend Ranking, Shihou-san, falls prey to Scumbag’s clutches!”
[Huh? Honestly, I expected rumors about me dating the third-year, Shirasagi-senpai, instead.]
Chouko herself had sent something simple and proper, just as he’d imagined from the class goody-two-shoes.
[Please take care of me from now on, Hoshikawa-kun.] — Read
[Same here. Good night, Shihou-san.]
So ordinary it was difficult to reply, but he settled for a polite one.
The rest of his chats belonged to his sisters. Aside from Chiaki, neither Ayaka nor Fuyuno had messaged him.
[Photo] — Read[Tsunako_JK2@alt: Otherwise I’m blocking you~]
His throat went dry.
So it wasn’t just him following her closely; they were exchanging “snack shots” for each other’s private fun.
And the latest one…
Her blouse was partly unbuttoned, her lips holding the hem, the focus on a pair of blindingly white curves.
No way… This is really the same polite, well-mannered Shihou-san?!
There was even a small mole near her lip; flipped in the mirror, it lined up perfectly with Shihou-san’s.
If Tsunako really was her… should he send something back?
After a long pause, he made his decision.
Send it.
What was there to be afraid of?
Even if Shihou-san was Tsunako, she couldn’t possibly know he was Harutaro. And if she did… well, that gave him leverage too.
Resolute, he threw back the covers, flicked on the light, and after a glance at her photo, snapped the tent in his pajamas. He sent it without hesitation.
Lights out. Job done.
Five minutes of replies later, he set his alarm and placed the phone on his nightstand. Lying in the dark, staring at the faint outline of the ceiling light, his thoughts drifted back to the day’s events at school…
Nogami was probably lying in bed right now, too.
Was she thinking about him, the boy she’d falsely accused of bullying?
When she became the target of bullying, would she remember what she had done?
He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes, clearing his cluttered thoughts.
…
The following days were surprisingly peaceful. Despite being branded the school’s infamous “scumbag,” beyond the first day’s incident with Kaname and her group, Harutaki didn’t face the constant harassment he had expected.
Thanks to the looming exams, most students at Nichiya High were too busy to waste time tormenting him.
But active bullying wasn’t necessary. Subconscious isolation worked just as well.
Lunch in the cafeteria meant difficulty finding seats, whispers and stares following him wherever he sat, as though he were some rare animal.
Between classes, only Akihisa dared talk to him. He didn’t approach Ren or the others; they weren’t avoiding him out of malice, and he wouldn’t trouble them either. It was simply unspoken common sense between people who understood.
If he forced himself into their company now, it would only make them uncomfortable.
And Harutaki knew well enough: politeness meant they couldn’t openly reject him, but social ties meant they couldn’t accept him either. The result would be them stuck in an awkward position, and him branded the unwanted outsider.
“Hey, Akihisa, you’ve got some free time lately, right?”
As soon as the opening exams were over, Harutaki tugged Akihisa, who was fiddling with his phone, closer and lowered his voice.
“I need your help with something.”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s buying bread from the store or grabbing drinks from the vending machine; if it’s Kami-sama’s command, I’ll do it.”
Thumping his chest, Akihisa declared himself ready for anything.
“First, add me on LINE. Then wait for me in the classroom after school.”
“Huh?”
“I need you to come with me to a photo studio.”
Since Asama-sensei had hinted not long ago that Nogami’s father would tolerate a “measured counterattack” so long as it stayed within school grounds… and now that exams were out of the way, Harutaki finally had time to dust off the “revenge plan” he hadn’t been able to use before.
Originally, he’d planned on hiring a stand-in actor, but in the end, the footage would be blurred out with mosaics anyway. And labor costs in Tokyo were ridiculous. His budget was tight.
That’s when he thought of Akihisa—
With that body type, slap a suit on him, stick on a fake mustache, and you’ve got the perfect sleazy old man vibe. Exactly the kind of guy you’d expect to pay a high school girl for “compensated dating.”
If you don’t have dirt, then fabricate dirt. If there’s no public opinion, then steer it yourself. Sure, big platforms might be tough to sway, but something small like the anonymous school forum? Stirring up a storm there barely took any effort.
After all, people who treat social media as a dumping ground for stress and negativity, people who can hardly be called “normal” online, once you toss them a bone, they’ll snap at it like rabid dogs.
But still, trouble always comes knocking.
Just as Harutaki was deciding what to eat for lunch, the three who hadn’t bothered him for days because of exams finally showed up: Nogami and her two cronies. They came at him from three sides, boxing him in against the wall.
“Well, well, Scumbag-kun. Got a moment?”
Nogami looked down at him with that condescending smirk.
“Nope.”
“Good. Then follow us.”
He seriously wondered if she even processed his answers in the first place.
Before he could move, Nogami threw a glance over her shoulder, voice dipped in mock threat:
“If you don’t behave, I’ll have Sae scream that you molested her.”
“Why is it always me?!”
Sae snapped back in protest.
Minako, on the other hand, grinned like someone watching a fight:
“Eh, what’s one more? If we need another recording, just do it again. Besides, Sae, weren’t you getting along with him earlier?”
“I—I wasn’t—!”
“I’ll go.”
Harutaki sighed, stood up, and followed.
He had no doubt. If Nogami was shameless enough to fake incriminating videos, she’d have zero qualms framing him for harassment, too.
As a guy, he knew all too well that the moment things got dicey with girls, the social scales tilted against him.
When Shihou-san gave him a worried glance, silently asking if he wanted her to speak up, Harutaki shook his head. Better not drag her into this. Wordless, he fell in step behind Nogami’s squad of three.
What was she even thinking, calling him out during lunch break? Didn’t she want to eat? Or was tormenting him more important than food?
“Hey, isn’t that Nogami-san…?”
“And the one behind her—that’s the scumbag from the forum, right?”
“Pretty face doesn’t mean much. Guy couldn’t even get it up with his ex, hahaha!”
Since lunch break had only just started, the halls were still full of students. Nogami’s crew was already well-known on campus, and Harutaki’s notorious name had spread to every ear by now. The sight of the four of them together drew plenty of attention.
Nogami got the fear and deference. He got the jeers, mockery, and jealous glares.
Still, just like even murderers sometimes got sympathy if they were good-looking, he caught some pity along the way, too.
“Man, being targeted by Nogami… rough.”
“Poor guy…”
Whether that pity came from genuine kindness or just because he had a handsome face and tall frame, who knew?
Eventually, as the hallways grew emptier, Nogami led them to an unused classroom.
These rooms were usually assigned to clubs, but Nogami wasn’t in any club. Meaning this space was her private hideout.
Sliding the door open, she glanced back at him, eyes searching for any flicker of anger or humiliation. She heard the whispers in the hall just as well as he had.
The classroom was clean and bare, clearly maintained. At the center, four desks were pushed together to form one big table, surrounded by three chairs.
On the desk sat three neatly wrapped bundles in furoshiki cloth—obviously their lunchboxes.
So that’s why he’d never seen them in the cafeteria.
Plenty of students brought homemade lunches instead of eating the limited menu at the canteen.
But still…
What did she want, dragging him here?
No way Nogami had brought him just to share lunch. Not when there were exactly three bentos on the desk—and only three chairs in the room.