Taking his seat, Hayashi Maki noticed the desk behind him was still empty—Gabriel hadn't come to school yet.
Up front, Kato Megumi was already there, previewing math from the textbook.
Nibutani Shinka was chatting with friends nearby—Miura Yumiko and the others.
"Hey, Nibutani, I heard you joined the dance club and some boy's club in our class. True?"
Miura Yumiko had caught a whiff of gossip and came over.
"It's true. I joined Hayashi Maki's club," Nibutani answered openly, smiling easily.
Yuigahama Yui gave her a curious look. "Why'd you join Hayashi's club? And Shiina—she joined too, right?"
What was so appealing about a "light novel / games / anime" club, anyway?
Shinka wasn't about to mention her chūnibyō black history, so she praised Hayashi Maki's club instead.
"Because it's fun. Hayashi's club doesn't just sit around reading—he takes us out for real-world practice. We try part-time jobs together. I even earned some easy pocket money."
"And we don't neglect studying, either. Hayashi organizes study sessions for me, Shiina, and Kato."
With rank #1 and #2 in the grade helping her, it would be hard not to improve.
Yui's eyes lit up. "That sounds great. I've always wanted to do a part-time job, but I never had the chance."
Who doesn't want extra pocket money? For a lively, fashion-loving girl, it's the best.
Shinka smiled. "If you want, I can ask Hayashi for you. He introduced me. The manager's super nice—pretty and gentle, too."
"Please do—thanks, Nibutani!" Yui said quickly.
Miura was interested but had no desire to work, so she kept quiet. She didn't think a homebody's club like Hayashi's could be that fun anyway.
She just hoped Nibutani and Shiina wouldn't get into weird friction—Shiina had said she cared about Hayashi; if Nibutani liked him too, it could crack their friendship. Miura didn't care about Hayashi, but she cared a lot about her friends.
Before long, the bell rang. Gabriel still hadn't appeared. Vignette, worried, called her; Gabriel said she was on the way. A little later, Gabriel arrived—first tardy of the day.
After class, Hayashi Maki turned to study the angel. Today it looked like Gabriel hadn't washed or brushed her hair. Compared to the clean, waist-length style from before, it was a mess, and she was still yawning—obviously sleep-deprived… or up gaming all night.
Sensing his gaze, Gabriel arched a brow, sounding impatient.
"What are you staring at me like that for?"
"Uh, nothing. It's just… you seem worlds apart from how you were before."
"Hmph. Of course. The old me was fake. This is the real me." She said it flatly, yawned again, and dropped her head onto the desk to sleep.
Hayashi Maki shook his head. Gabriel had started to fall.
Their classmates were shocked by the change and surrounded her at the break, asking what happened. Gabriel just found it annoying—she was sleepy.
She lazily waved them off, adjusted to a comfy position, and muttered, "I'm fine. I just realized the old me was too naïve—like my name. This is the real me. Please get used to it… and let me sleep."
Everyone traded looks, helpless. In their hearts: An angel in our class is gone.
Vignette worried too, but didn't want to disturb her nap. Through several periods, Gabriel slept soundly.
When she did wake, she propped up a textbook and read manga and light novels behind it—or pulled out a handheld and gamed—changing from honor student to problem child who only played.
And Gabriel clearly loved it. She suddenly felt her old dream—making everyone happy—was too naïve, just like her name. Humans? Let them fend for themselves. She should enjoy food and games and make herself happy.
This lazy, laid-back life was exactly what she, an angel, longed for. Helping others was exhausting—why waste her time and energy making them happy when she could enjoy life?
Hayashi Maki noticed and didn't plan to stop her. That was Gabriel's true nature—and it was cute, too. An angel who likes games could party with him in dungeons.
By noon, Hayashi Maki had planned to call Shinka out for a "lesson," but Kasumigaoka Utaha messaged him, asking to meet at school.
He immediately spared Shinka—she'd already been preliminarily contracted, with blackmail material to boot; she wasn't leaving the club, and there'd be plenty of chances. Utaha, though, he hadn't properly approached yet.
Utaha asked to meet by the flowerbeds behind the school. When Maki arrived, he happened to see a boy, face red, nervously extending a hand to Utaha—classic confession pose, a total sense of déjà vu.
Utaha, in uniform with black stockings on her slender legs and a white hairband, swept him with her wine-red eyes and refused without hesitation.
"Sorry, Satō. I can't accept."
The boy went pale and blurted, "Why? Kasumigaoka, I've watched you for ages. You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"
Utaha's eyes cooled. "Just because I don't have a boyfriend, I should settle? You're not the first to confess. If lots of people confess, am I supposed to accept them all?"
"I don't feel anything for you, Satō. Please don't bother or pester me again."
Arms folded, she rejected him cleanly. Satō clenched his fists, then turned and ran off in tears.
Hayashi Maki was speechless. The guy looked big and tough—he half-expected a meltdown and a swing at Utaha. Instead—waterworks and a run?
On second thought, he wasn't "red named" material—no sinful soul—so of course he wouldn't do something awful. Maybe only a scoundrel like Hayashi Maki would go after pretty girls without a second thought.
"Uh, Kasumi Utako-san—did I come at a bad time?" he joked as he walked up, teasing in his eyes.
Seeing him, Utaha's eyes brightened. Handsome. The more you looked at Hayashi Maki, the better he looked.
He stood straight, calm, with an odd charisma—call it a main-character aura. Confidence with anyone, anywhere—magnetic to girls.
She blinked, then smiled. With a faint fragrance, the pale, stunning beauty in black stockings stepped up and offered a white hand.
"No, your timing's perfect. Nice to meet you—I'm Kasumigaoka Utaha, second year. I write as Kasumi Utako for Fushikawa Bunko. Pleased to meet you, kouhai."
Only one person would call her "Kasumi Utako": the one who'd written her image into his book, kept watching her, and arranged to meet her here.