"Well, now that your first year has officially started, let's take out your textbooks," Ms. Makemo said, grabbing her own book.
I realized something—wait, I might be wrong—but since I walked into this school, I had only seen one camera at the front. There didn't seem to be any cameras inside the school.
I had to figure out if I was right. I stood up.
"Ms. Makemo, I'd like to ask a question," I said.
"Yes, Ren, what is it?" she asked, concerned.
"I've explored a little of the school, but ever since I walked in, I haven't seen a single security camera."
"He's right. I haven't seen a single camera either," a girl backed me up.
Ms. Makemo smiled before speaking.
"Good observation, Ren. He's right—there is only one security camera in the entire school, and it's at the front."
So I was right.
"But why is there only one camera?" a boy asked.
Ms. Makemo smiled even wider.
"Didn't you hear what the principal said? He said you have freedom."
Wow. That's freedom on a whole different level.
"So how do they expect to find people with weapons or those doing bad things?" another girl asked.
"Well, it's simple. If you see someone breaking the rules, you have to prove it. If you can't prove it, then nothing happened. It's up to you to prove it," Ms. Makemo explained.
Interesting—that's the price of freedom.
Then Ms. Makemo's phone rang.
"I have to take this. I'll be right back. In the meantime, socialize and get to know each other," she said, walking out of the classroom.
Everyone got up and started talking, and I did too. I went straight to my first target.
"Hello, isn't your name Marasu?" I asked her as she was sitting down.
"Um… yes. And your name is Ren, right?" she asked.
"Yes, it is. Nice to meet you," I said with a smile.
"So, you're the boy with the dream to become king of this high school, right?" she asked.
I giggled slightly.
"Yes, it might be a crazy dream, but I'm aiming to accomplish it."
"Cool. I hope I had a dream, but I just don't know what I want to do," she said, thinking.
Well, I could give her a goal by making her do everything I wanted.
"Well, like Ms. Makemo said, you still have time," I said, smiling. I reached out my hand to shake hers, and we shook on it.
Wow, it's like his presence is sunshine and rainbows, Marasu thought.
Then a hand pressed on my shoulder.
Who the hell is touching me?
I turned around and saw three boys.
"Hey, what's up? My name is Takashi," said one.
Takashi Komi—his dream is to be a professional basketball player.
"Hey, I'm Soru," said another.
Soru Sazaki—he dreams of becoming chief of police.
"Yoo, I'm Youske," said the last one.
Youske Hamachi—he doesn't have a dream either.
"Hey, nice to meet you all. I'm Ren," I said, smiling and shaking their hands.
"Yeah, we know you—the one with the crazy dream," Takashi said.
I giggled slightly.
"Well, many people say that, but I plan on completing it," I said with a small chuckle.
"Well, we're rooting for you," Youske said with a smile.
"If you need help, you can call one of the Super Trio," Soru added.
No. Definitely not.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," I said with a little chuckle.
"How about we exchange contact info?" Soru suggested.
"Yeah, sure," I replied.
Now I had all three of their contact info. I was done bonding for today, so I walked back to my seat. Then a girl approached me.
"Hello, I'm Akira Fujimoto. Can I get your contact info so we can be friends?" she asked, bowing slightly.
"Sure, I guess," I said calmly, handing her my phone.
A smile lit up her face.
"Thank you so much!" she said, walking away quickly.
Why did she have to go through all that?
Takashi came over.
"Looks like you've got her in your bag," he said, smiling.
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Meaning she likes you," Takashi said.
"I highly doubt that," I responded.
"Well, you were the only boy she asked for contact info, so she definitely likes you," he said.
Interesting. I looked over at her—she was staring at me, blushing, then quickly looked away.
He's so cute, Akira thought.
"Well, I'm going to the bathroom," I said, standing up.
I walked through the hallways, searching for the bathroom, when I felt it—eyes on me. Someone was watching. Not casually. Deliberately.
I didn't rush. That would be a rookie mistake. Instead, I let them follow, listening to the faint echo of footsteps behind me.
When I entered the bathroom, I didn't go straight to the stalls. I lingered near the sinks, washing my hands slowly, deliberately, as if I didn't notice the four boys stepping in behind me. Second-years. Big, overconfident, looking to assert dominance.
"Well, well… what do we have here?" one sneered.
"Yeah, a little first-year," another added, smirking.
I didn't flinch. I turned slowly, letting my gaze sweep over all four of them. Calm. Calculating.
"You boys look like you came here to make trouble," I said softly. "Am I right?"
Their smirks faltered slightly. Most first-years would have reacted with fear or aggression. Not me.
"We're gonna make you our puppet," one said, trying to sound threatening.
"Everything you do… you'll do for us," another added.
I smiled. A slow, deliberate smile—not friendly, not mocking. Something that made the air feel heavier.
"I see," I said. "You want control over me… but the question is, what will happen if I don't cooperate?"
One of them stepped forward, fist raised. "Then we beat you up, little first-year!"
I didn't move. I simply watched. Every twitch, every tiny shift in their stance. Confidence falters under observation. That's a fact.
He lunged. I sidestepped, letting him stumble past me. Another swung, faster this time. I grabbed his wrist mid-air, twisting just enough to make him wince. "You're a little sloppy," I murmured.
The third tried a flurry of punches. I shifted, guided his momentum into the sink, making him hit it hard. The sound echoed. Silence. Shock. Fear creeping in.
The last one hesitated. He saw what had just happened. He saw the calm in my eyes. He realized this wasn't about strength. It was about control.
I took a single step toward him, measured, deliberate. "One more step," I said softly. "And you'll regret it."
All four froze. Their dominance had evaporated, replaced by uncertainty, the seed of obedience.
"What are your names?" I asked calmly, letting the silence hang.
"Kenta Sato… Hiroshi Nakamura… Senju Ishikawa… Shohei Yamamoto," they stammered.
"And who sent you?"
Daiki Fujisawa, they admitted.
Why?" I asked.
"He sent us to beat you up and make you give up on your dream," Kenta added.
"My dream? What dream did he tell you about?" I asked, curious.
"He said your dream was to become king of this high school, and he wanted you to give up," Kenta replied.
"Hmph. Is that true?" I asked the rest of them.
They all said yes.
Then I smiled. "Good. From now on, you work for me. I want to know everything he does. Everything. No exceptions."
"But we can't! We work for Daiki!" Senju protested.
"I don't care," I said, letting my calm confidence cut through the tension. "You will tell me his every move. Every single thing. No excuses."
Reluctantly, they nodded, voices quiet, hesitant. Fear—and respect—already taking root.
Before I left, I added casually, "At lunch, call me. I'd like to have a chat with your boss."
They agreed. The seed of control has been planted. I didn't even have to try.
As I walked through the hallways, my mind raced. So, Daiki Fujisawa is my first enemy. I need to find out how he knows about my dream—and take care of him as soon as possible.
I walked into the classroom. Everyone was at their desks with textbooks open, and Ms. Makemo was back to teaching.
"Ren, you're late. We already started on Algebra 2," she said.
"Sorry, I had a stomach problem," I replied.
"It's okay. Hurry up and catch up. Go to page 23," she said, writing on the board.
I went to my seat and flipped to page 23.
So, Daiki Fujisawa… I can't wait to meet you.
To Be Continued…