Parsed with an automated reader. The content accuracy is not guranteed.
While warding off the fluttering, fleeting, perhaps whimlessly, aimlessly dancing cherry blossom petals as if a nuisance, brand-new blazers march through the path by the river. Dignified, fresh and unwrinkled pure white shirts, checkered skirts of slightly uncouth length, and underpants which very nearly cause trouble for their surroundings. Loafers, still unaccustomed to the stride of main characters, clickety clackety, steadily sound out the beat of restless footsteps.
*Chik-kun, tak-kun*. *Chik-kun, tak-kun*.
*Kap-pon, pat-tan*. *Kap-pon, pat-tan*.
Covered in scratches and dirt, my Stan Smiths, in contrast to those innocent rhythms, play a somewhat idiotic, dissonant march. Noticing my undone shoelaces, I crouch reflexively, and a prim and proper school bag sends a worn-out Gregory Day Pack flying.
With feelings of nostalgia, I watched the backs of the new juniors as they moved forward intently, without a care for the gentle sunlight of spring, the murmuring river stream, or even the faces of those walking next to them who might before long become a close friend or lover.
ăClass 5âs Chitose Saku is a womanizing scumbag.ă
Speaking of high school students, theyâre undoubtedly the centre of the world. Be it a novel, manga, drama or movie, the protagonist is always a high school student. Neither as powerless as a middle or grade-schooler, nor as far removed from the story as a university student or member of society. The word âyouthâ is synonymous with âhigh school studentâ, and when thinking back after becoming an adult, without a doubt there will be those, so beloved they make you want to cry, just a little embarrassing moments, packed like a treasure chest inside those three years.
âŠThat, is a superficial story.
Everyone is aware of the reality. Hanging out with friends, fooling around day after day, at times clashing seriously, then laughing and bumping shoulders like nothing happened, confessing to that girl theyâre interested in, waiting for their club activities to end going back together talking on a park bench going to the summer festival clad in yukata watching the fireworks two hands touching before they know it and at a deserted shrine having their first⊠such things, those who are able to enjoy an almost heartburning green springtime like that are but a select few. In other words, the portion of human beings who, after surviving a fierce mounted battle, dashed up the school caste â those who are commonly known as riajuu.
Riajuu and hiriajuu.
I consider this classification which at some point came to be used as if natural, meaningless from the bottom of my heart. But with it having become established, to the great majority of high school students, what they have to do is one thing. None other than to successfully swim through in a way so that they may become, if possible, the former; or at the very least, not the latter.
The entrance ceremony that now approaches these juniors, is the first round of that. Even as early as around when they head for home, they will be loosely classified intoăThose who kind of feel like theyâll be at the center of the class from now onăandăThose who seem clearly likely to spend their time silently in a corner of the classă. Itâs understandable that they would be nervous.
ăClass 5âs Chitose Saku is a womanizing scumbag.ă
Juniors, donât believe what society tells you. Riajuu or hiriajuu, gloomy type or cheerful type, much less some caste system, whatever it is you should put on a face that shows you donât give a damn and fall into whichever category you please. With the conflict here and there, and all the wear and tear, after a year passes, in the end there will be a pebble with its own outward appeal.
âŠAnd so on, is what I, the one entering his second year while being treated almost like the chief riajuu by others, nonchalantly speak of as I look down from above.
*Chik-kun, tak-kun*. *Chik-kun, tak-kun*.
*Kap-pon, pat-tan*. *Kap-pon, pat-tan*.
Passing by a melancholic winter as it blows, the Hokuriku wind warmly brushes against my cheek.
Spring. It is the season of beginnings. The sky as it spreads out a pastel blue, the girlsâ swaying black hair and skirts, and the profiles dyed in the colour of cherry blossoms, all filled with the premonition of new encounters. As I head towards school, my steps are as light as that of a cheerful middle-aged man heading for a familiar public bathhouse.
ăClass 5âs Chitose Saku is a damn womanizing scumbag.ă
Hmmm, no matter how many times I check it, whatâs written there is definitely me being slandered by my full name in all its glory.
Looking at the screen of the smartphone that I have been slipping in and out of my pocket for a while now, I smile wryly.
Open on it is one of those so-called underground school websites.
Resembling 5chan threads constructed for each school, where a large number of unspecified people can freely write whatever they like. Once popular over ten years ago, apparently now having become hotbeds for bullying and other societal problems, they were slowly going out of fashion.
Well, looking at todayâs world, it seems like the outlets for venting stress have simply moved to Twitter and LINE. However, SNS-types like those carry the risk of an individual being quickly identified after a slight misstep. We, the excellent students of the school known as the top high school in Fukui prefecture, Fuji High, had reached the conclusion that if we were to do something like bad mouth someone in writing, as expected the more convenient option would be an old-school style underground school website. Accordingly, things had come full cycle, and behind the scenes such sites were becoming all the rage again.
ăThat guyâs getting too full of himself, even though he canât pull it backă
ăI heard he was doing it with a senpai and it went limp lolololă
Itâs full of things I canât let pass, oi!!
Reading the comments from several users in agreement with the earlier post, I reflexively retorted. I wasnât really objecting to the part calling me a womanizer, but for an ikemen riajuu, being rumoured as unable to do it puts their reputation at stake.
And in the first place. Even though theyâre considerate enough to blank out parts of the name or use initials for all these other people being slandered, for some reason when it comes to me they find it absolutely fine to use the real name, time and time again saying whatever they please like this. Incidentally, the first time the name of Chitose Saku got posted was a certain day not too long after the entrance ceremony, and ever since, itâs been so popular that if the rankings for the top words of this one year were to be published it would probably rank first.
The contents being one hundred percent slander.
Itâs okay to post something likeăChitose-kunâs so dreamy! Take me!ăonce in a while, you know?
ăMoorning, Saku-kun. What are you up to, stopping at a place like this?ă
I was lightly tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, I found my classmate from first year Uchida Yua, looking at me with a smile akin to a yellow dandelion.
Gathered together in a side-tail, long, flowing hair fluttered in front of her shoulders, swayed by a gentle breeze. When she smiled, with a *kyui-* the corners of her eyes drooped ever so slightly, being so endearing that the *kyui-* alone felt like it was enough to wipe away all wars from the face of the Earth. I wouldnât define her as a beauty renowned by everyone in the school, but sheâs the type for which, during love-talk on the night of a school outing, confessions likeăActually, I like herăwould come out one after the other, getting people all worked up.
In truth, even though she hadnât been one of those who stood out in the beginning after entering school, as is typical of a high school student she had steadily grown more refined, such that ever since the second term of last year or so it had become natural for her to move about with our riajuu group.
ăMorning, Yua. Have a look at this for a sec, will you?ă
Upon my saying this while moving around the smartphone in my hand, Yua lined up beside me and took a look. The scent of organic shampoo hung in the air.\năAhh, that⊠itâs fine, itâs fine.ă
Yuaâs smiled tenderly, gently patting me on the back
ăâŠEh? Whatâs with that kind ofăWell, I canât deny whatâs written there, but it canât be helped, letâs do something elseăreaction?ă
ăYup, that interpretation sounds about right. Look, Saku-kunâs cool and popular, so thereâs a lot of people out there who may be annoyed or jealous.ă
Frankly, I myself agreed with what Yua was saying. Even thinking about who might be posting the slanderous messages would be pointless. It could be the Kamase Yarou who Iâd had a run-in with before the spring break, and there was even a strong chance that I was being resented by another somebody whose face I didnât even know.
Be it a celebrity, musician or writer, the more popular they get, the larger the mass of haters gushing forth. Everywhere you go there will always be those who insist on going the other way, pretending to know everything, finding the weaknesses of successful people and throwing stones.
The number who like and the number who hate are directly proportional. Whatâs most scary is a windless situation with neither affirmation nor denial.
ăYouâre kidding, right!? This kind of not just handsome but also casually stylish, possesses outstanding reflexes, gets superior grades, has high communication skills and is kind to everyone, and whatâs more has leadership skills, and can also handle everything from dirty jokes to conversations abound in wit with ease, guy who is me, just what is there to be annoyed by?ă
ăIâll tell you in case you hadnât realized, but wouldnât it be mainly to do with exactly those things?ă