— — — — — —
After finishing their instant noodles and cigarettes, the pajama-clad Shizuka climbed into her Aston Martin and roared off into the night.
Effortless. Flashy. Cool to the bone.
"What a waste," Oikawa muttered. "Isn't a forbidden teacher-student romance supposed to be exciting?"
Beautiful. Stacked. Loaded.
Prime sugar mommy material.
If only she weren't so violent.
Deep down, Oikawa genuinely thought Shizuka-sensei would make a fantastic partner.
"What's a waste?"
Kawasaki's voice snapped him back to reality.
"A waste that you're still going to rank near the bottom of the class in midterms."
"Oikawa, you wanna get beaten again?"
"Kawasaki, could you show a little respect to your tutor?"
She gave a cold laugh, set down her backpack, and said flatly, "You mean the perverted tutor who keeps sneaking glances at his student's chest during lessons?"
"..."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Oikawa slapped his forehead as if remembering something urgent. "Ah, right. I suddenly remembered I need to prepare the oden. You work on the problems yourself."
"Coward," she muttered under her breath.
She pulled out her math workbook.
Oikawa wiped sweat from his brow. He'd been subtle. Extremely subtle.
How had she noticed?
Women were terrifying.
...
..
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
By now, Oikawa had a rough understanding of his classmates.
After he refused to join the Service Club, Hachiman ended up getting dragged into it instead, leaving class every day with resentment practically radiating off his face.
As for the girl sitting in front of him, Yui Yuigahama seemed to have joined the Service Club too.
Oikawa wasn't entirely sure.
He'd only watched the first few episodes of Oregairu and caught most of the rest through short clips online. His knowledge of the plot was patchy at best.
So when it came to Yui, he just couldn't bring himself to like her.
Oikawa had never believed that getting isekai'd meant unlocking some grand harem route where every girl fell at his feet.
That was idiotic.
Try that, and he'd end up like Makoto Itou in no time.
Just surviving this life properly was hard enough.
He joked around a lot, sure. But deep down, he kept a ruler in his heart. Everyone he met had already been assigned a distance.
Right now, the closest one was Shizuka-sensei.
Unfortunately, it looked like a one-sided crush.
Aside from the Service Club duo, the rest of the class fell into two broad categories: the popular crowd and the loners.
The popular group revolved around Hayato Hayama.
Always smiling. Polite. Seemingly flawless.
Oikawa had mentally labeled him: Do Not Offend.
A classroom was its own miniature society. If you wanted to move through it smoothly, you didn't antagonize the universally liked guy.
Yumiko Miura and Hina Ebina?
After some observation, Oikawa tagged them as "strong façade, soft inside" and "scheming fujoshi."
As for the trio of tagalongs, Tobe, Yamato, and Ooka, they were simply "sports idiots."
Saika Totsuka was ridiculously cute.
Tragic that the author insisted he was a guy.
Everyone else faded into the background. Extras living quietly inside their own youth.
Oikawa figured he belonged with them.
"Oikawa! OIKAWA TORU!"
"Get up here and solve this!"
He'd been lost in thought and completely missed the math teacher's shouting until Kawasaki viciously pinched him.
"Fumisaka-sensei, I think you're wasting your time," someone called out. "The fact that Oikawa isn't sleeping in your class is already a miracle."
The classroom burst into laughter.
Oikawa didn't catch who said it, but he could guess.
Probably one of the sports idiots. Ooka seemed the type.
Embarrassed, Oikawa bowed apologetically to the teacher and walked to the board.
It was a geometry problem.
A bit beyond the standard syllabus.
But not for him.
One auxiliary line became two.
That was it.
In under two minutes, he finished writing the solution, bowed again to Fumisaka-sensei, and returned to his seat.
The math teacher was actually a good person.
He'd helped Oikawa out in the staff room before. That was when Oikawa decided to stop sleeping in class.
Not sleeping didn't mean listening, though.
He'd already mastered most of the material.
"Fumisaka-sensei, is Oikawa right?"
"Y-yes."
The teacher looked slightly chagrined.
"Wow, Oikawa-kun, you're amazing!"
Yui turned around in her seat, flashing a bright smile and giving him a thumbs-up.
"Thanks."
He smiled back.
Beside him, Kawasaki sat stiffly upright.
For some reason, she looked annoyed.
...
Three days until the midterms.
Oikawa increased Kawasaki's tutoring sessions from two hours to three today.
After finishing his shift at the convenience store, they stayed an extra hour before heading home.
During this time, he'd received emails from three or four publishers.
Some congratulated him on passing first-round screenings. Others claimed Your Lie in April had strong sales potential and wanted to discuss publication.
He declined them all.
Dengeki Bunko was one of the top imprints in the industry. If he won Gold Prize, that meant three million yen.
And backing from Dengeki meant built-in traffic and serious promotional power.
There was no reason to give that up.
"Most importantly," Oikawa murmured, "the final judging is almost here."
Inside the convenience store, Kawasaki worked through math problems while Oikawa discreetly slacked off, lurking in his writers' group chat.
"I made it! First round at Kadokawa Bunko!"
"Let me share in that luck."
"Kadokawa's huge. On par with Dengeki, right?"
"Didn't someone here pass Dengeki's first round recently?"
"@CopycatTransmigrator, someone's calling you."
That message came from Utako Kasumi.
Oikawa immediately opened her cat-avatar profile and sent a glaring emoji.
Was this woman a shut-in?
How was she online every single time he checked?
.
.
.