The rest of the day at school passed without incident, only Tsuji disappeared, as it turned out - he caught the eye of the physical education teacher and was sent to the medical office, as he sported a broken nose and a bruise on his cheekbone. I was wary, expecting a call to the director or head teacher, an educational conversation and "parents to school," but it was a false alarm, since Tsuji, following the fighting code of a hooligan, of course said that he fell down the stairs, and the teacher, in turn, pretended to believe in it. The nurse stuck a bandage on Tsuji's nose, making him look surprisingly brave. Gloomy, with a bandage on the bridge of his nose, he sat on the back desk, answering questions in monosyllables and even snapping at the sympathy of his henchman Akai.
Tsuji fell behind me and didn't even look in my direction. But the remaining classmates, on the contrary, set themselves the goal of piercing me with their gazes. Most looked at me with bewilderment and confusion - how did it happen that this was sitting here with us, but we didn't even know. Yes, something happened in the class table of ranks; the leader of the "alpha hooligan" category was beaten up by some omega nerd.
At the same time, the word "nerd" did not at all imply a smart but frail intellectual; no, in Japan, if you are frail but an excellent student, the respect of those around you is guaranteed. Therefore, in the class there are several pinnacles of power, or groups - the official one, boys and girls who study well, are efficient and do not allow violations or comments. These are usually in good standing with teachers and school staff. This includes the class prefect, assistant prefect, honors students and those who would like to join them. There is a hierarchy there.
The second branch of government is the hooligans. Everything is simple here, impudent guys who show their disdain for the school system with all their appearance, rebels and all that. Fights, smoking behind the school, smuggling of alcoholic beverages, some kind of gatherings (it would be hard to call them parties), chains instead of keychains on keys, attached to the belt with huge carabiners, shirts unbuttoned to the navel, rolled up sleeves and hefty forelocks.
By the way, in contrast to the official school hierarchy, there were, as it were, two branches in the hooligan environment - the male one with Tsuji at the head and the female one, with Kin Yoshiko, a bright representative of the gyaru-girl culture, a dyed blonde with a plaid short skirt and a bunch of rings on her fingers, in black glasses in almost any weather and with bright lipstick, despite the school ban on cosmetics.
Yoshiko was from Korea, studied taekwondo and even took part in regional championships. Besides these, there was also another pinnacle of school social life - beautiful girls. The Snow Queen Yuki ruled there with her retinue of two twins and her rival Aoki-chan, who looked like a simple and sweet girl with three closest friends.
The rest of the classmates either tried to join one of the groups, or were part of the faceless gray mass of losers. No, in fact, among these losers there were also their own small groups, but they had no influence on the climate in the classroom.
As for Shinji-kun, he was a loser and a weakling, and no one was interested in his opinion or existence. And I would be happy to leave everything as it is, because this situation suited me. Climb to the top of the class, show off your coolness and awesomeness - why? I lived one life, I lived it brightly and richly. I did not expect the next life, but apparently this is how the Universe works, maybe after this life I will be reborn again and so on an infinite number of times. What I knew for sure was that I had less enthusiasm for conquering and realizing a new life. Meaning? Take over the world? Earn, steal, squeeze out a billion? Create your own harem?
There is very little joy from this, but there are a lot of worries. As it is with Bulgakov - "he did not deserve light, he deserved peace." Here. I deserve peace as a Master. I also want a big house by the sea, where I can spend my days and nights in peace. Yes, friends, let there be a wife or wives - but here we must try to choose calm ones. Both of them. Therefore, a life where my opinion and existence did not care about others was what the doctor ordered.
But damn Tsuji got in at the wrong time. It was possible to endure, but firstly it would be uncomfortable (and peace means comfort), and secondly, people like him don't stop there. I can't stand it here. These guys need to push you to the brink, then they feel that the day was not in vain. Therefore, it was necessary to change your social rank and occupy the niche of a strange type, which it is better not to touch, because it is fraught. Of course, you need to tighten up your body. Take care of yourself, get in shape, since I'm in this body for a long time - I need to shape it properly, yes.
Thinking about this, I slowly walked home after school. The walk wasn't that far—about a kilometer through narrow streets, and near the house I went into a small Tamagawa grocery store. The bell attached to the door frame rang, notifying the seller that a buyer had entered, and the plump girl standing at the counter smiled at me and bowed slightly.
- Shinji-kun! Welcome!
- Hello, Inoe-san. How are you doing?
- How can things be in the small store of this slacker Kenta? He always gets drunk and then lies in bed for two days in a row, and I stand at the counter as if tied. - she folded her arms over her chest, expressing dissatisfaction: - and by the way, Yamashita-kun, I'm already twenty-five! I will never get married like that.
- You will definitely get married, Inoe-san. You are charming and have a beautiful smile. - I said, standing at the counter and patting my pockets in search of my wallet.
- Oh, what are you saying? - the girl clasped her hands, breaking into a new smile: - but no one notices this. Only you Shinji-kun notice. Perhaps I should wait until you grow up and become a real man.
- Well, don't bother yourself so much, Inoe-san, I'm sure that in the near future there will be your prince who will take you away from this store. - the wallet was not there. I tried to remember where I had put it. Yes, it seems to be nowhere, I always had it in the same place - in the breast pocket of my jacket.
One of Shinji-kun's habits. His mother was very afraid of pickpockets and told scary stories about how pickpockets in the Tokyo subway wield a coin sharpened to a razor sharpness, opening pockets and purses, and if the victim discovers the theft and begins to scream or grab the pickpocket, then he will slash with the same coin. By the eyes.
Why it followed from this that the wallet should be kept in the breast pocket was not clear, but Shinji-kun, impressed by these stories, carried the wallet only this way. In a past life, I myself did not attach much importance to this and usually carried my wallet in my trouser pocket, but who am I to resist childhood trauma and the useful habit of my... body partner? Brrr... that sounds a bit too much. Then I realized that I was frozen again and was standing in front of the counter, looking into space with glassy eyes.
- Um... Inoe-san, I'm sorry, I can't find my wallet... - I say, continuing my search in my backpack.
- God, God, what kind of scores can there be between two such close people. Do you think I'll have to change my last name to Yamashita, or can I stay Tamagawa? After all, I have a dynasty and all that... and if I keep my last name, then old Kenta will give us a shop for our wedding. - the minx puts her index finger to her chin and pretends to be thoughtful.
- Inoe-san, sorry for disturbing you. - I bow.
- Don't be stupid, Shinji-kun. Take what you need, then you will pay. Well, or Nanase will pay when she comes home from work. - she waves it off: - take it, take it. You live nearby, a prominent man. - she smiles like a cat that has eaten its fill of sour cream.
- Inoe-san, when will you stop teasing the poor guy. - I sigh, picking up a bag of groceries: - I don't even have a chance.
- Diligence and perseverance are what distinguishes a boy from man, Shinji-kun. - the young saleswoman and granddaughter of Tamagawa Kenta-san, the elderly owner of the store, instructively raises her finger up: - the main thing is don't give up! Fightin! Make an effort, learn to communicate with us girls and stop blushing every time you see me, then we'll talk.
- Thank you for your attention and care, Inoe-san. - I bow, wait for Inoe to write down my debt in an old, battered notebook in a cage, bow again and leave the store. Now go home. Nanase-neesan and I lived in a one-room apartment nearby, on the second floor of an unprepossessing residential building. Interestingly, the staircase to the second floor ran from the outside, apparently so as not to heat the area in vain, although there was no heating here as a class. Not at all.
In winter, Nanase-neesan and I warmed ourselves with electric heaters, which was quite expensive, we had to save money, and as a result, Shinji-kun constantly had a cold. But the most remarkable invention in the fight against the piercing cold was, of course, the kotatsu, a kind of low table with a blanket around the edges, sitting at which you could put your feet there and warm yourself. What about the legs, Shinji-kun often climbed in there entirely and fell asleep in warmth and comfort. Especially if Nanase-neesan joined him. Such is the idyll of family life.
As I walked up the stairs to my floor, I noticed a fat ginger cat, Pono-kun, sitting on the railing. Keeping pets here was quite expensive and troublesome, so we didn't have our own cat, although Nanase-neesan adored cats. That's why neither she nor Shinji-kun passed by Pono-kun, just like that. It was considered an obligatory ritual to stop, bow with all respect and politeness, and ask the thick lump of fur for permission to stroke it, and also to inquire about its life. Where exactly Pono-kun, who was clearly a house cat, lived, and why he preferred to sit on the railing of our house all day was unknown. Deciding not to break the tradition accepted by Shinji-kun and Nanase-neesan, I stopped and greeted Pono-kun. The fat red cat didn't even turn his head in my direction, he just twitched his ear impatiently, saying come in and don't bother me while sunbathing. I stroked the cat and mentally lamented that I didn't pick up a fish tail for him at the Tamagawa store, as usual. On the other hand, I didn't have a wallet today, I already got into debt.
Footsteps were heard behind me, and I straightened up, turning around.
- Yamashita-kun. - said the twin. Probably Aya.
- A? Uh... Sato-chan? - here it's worth thanking the tradition of calling people by their last name first, because I wasn't sure if it was Aya or Miko. And when will I learn to distinguish them? So, wait, what is she even doing here?
- Yamashita-kun, your wallet fell out of your jacket. Here. - She handed me my wallet.
- Oh, so that's where he is. Thank you for taking care of me and my property. - I extended the standard phrase of gratitude. The twin looked down.
Fifteen minutes later, I stood in my small kitchen, frying rice with an egg and adding finely chopped onions, and from time to time I looked back at the decorously sitting Aya (it was Aya after all), who was sipping tea from a green porcelain mug with a calm face. Everything happened naturally; it's impolite to simply say "thank you" to the person who not only picked up your wallet, but also took the trouble to bring it to the very door of your apartment. Therefore, as a polite gesture, I invited her to come to me and "taste the meal," after warning that my cooking was so-so. Aya, apparently, agreed as a return gesture of politeness.
And now I'm cooking fried rice, and she's drinking tea from a green porcelain mug. Having cast a quick glance at her, I shook my head, mentally grunting - after all, sixteen years of a new body were making themselves felt. Hormones. As a mature man and a teenager, I understand that there is nothing special about the Sato twins - short girls with strong calves and thighs, breasts that were barely visible under their uniform shirts, cute faces and long hair, and even this manner of dressing the same, deliberately confusing others.
But Shinji-kun's body reacted to the presence of a pretty girl in his apartment in a completely obvious way, my gaze involuntarily slid over the knees, which were not covered by the skirt - I have the impression that the skirt was specially cut, because according to school rules, she still had to cover those tempting knees. And the thoughts that flashed in my head could not be called chaste. If Shinji-kun himself were here and now in the room, he would most likely fall into a stupor, start bleating inaudibly, or even faint with a profuse nosebleed, like in a hentai manga.
But behind the wheel, on the command bridge of this body, stands the consciousness of a man who has had all sorts of things in his life, and the female body was no particular mystery to me. Of course, it's nice to entertain in my head the thought of Aya Sato-chan standing in front of me on her strong knees, completely naked and opening her lovely mouth, or something else from Shinji-kun's fevered imagination, but I could control my sexual instincts sufficiently degree, so as not to blush or turn pale in front of the guest.
-What did you say, Yamashita-kun? - Aya asked, apparently hearing me chuckle.
- Nothing. The rice is already ready, now I... - quickly transferred the rice into two bowls, decorated them with finely chopped herbs on top and served it to the table. Tea, sauce, two pairs of chopsticks and - Itadakimas!
- Itadakimas! - Twin Aya echoed, preparing her chopsticks and we started eating. It must be said that Shinji-kun had good cooking skills - he was often left alone and was forced to master the basics of Japanese instant cuisine - all sorts of omelettes with rice, fried rice, etc. In turn, good old me always believed that cooking well is one of the traits of a real man. As Heinlein says - "cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.." Therefore, the rice came out very well. Nanase-neesan came home from work late at night, so Shinji-kun usually left her cooked food in the refrigerator. Yesterday's portion was eaten completely by Nanase-neesan and she even said something like "how delicious your cooking has become, Shinji-kun!" So in this part I have succeeded as a man, all that remains is to improve the other areas. Tighten up my body so that I can give out a full-fledged jab and not pull my arm, strengthen the muscle corset so that my back stops hurting and in general - the body is your fortress, so you will have to go through this path again from beginning to end.
- Yamashita-kun. - Aya said, carefully finishing her portion: - you cook well.
- Thank you, Sato-chan. Glad you liked my cooking. - I nodded: - next time I'll cook something tastier. I wasn't expecting any guests, so...
- No, it was very tasty. - Aya bowed politely and stood up. I walked her into the hallway, noting that her skirt was clearly shorter than required by school regulations, and her legs were strong and chiseled, like those of a marble figurine.
- Thank you again for bringing me my wallet. - I said: - really, I shouldn't have bothered and brought it to me. I could pick him up tomorrow at school.
- I thought that you might not have enough money for something important today. - Aya answered me seriously, and looked around our wretched room with nine tatami mats. I nodded in response. She didn't say a word about the fact that Nanase-neesan and I lived in such conditions, and that she was worried that I wouldn't have enough to buy food, she just looked around and bowed her head. Without disdain, rather with understanding. I sighed. Apparently, the Sato twins knew firsthand what it was like to be without money in the evening, on the way home.
- Maybe I'll walk you home? - I said: - after all, it's evening and...
- Certainly. - Aya tilted her head. We left the apartment, I locked the door with the key, and we walked down the street. It was already getting dark, the lights were on, the spring air was quite fresh, but the schoolgirls here walked around with bare legs, managing to look quite healthy.
Having escorted Aya Sato-chan to her house without incident, which turned out to be not so far by local standards, I returned home and thought.
There was something that haunted me, as if some kind of midge was itching on the edge of my consciousness. But what exactly? Fight at school? A fight and a brawl is an event for Shinji-kun, but for me, who has already lived my life and seen not only fights, but also mortal fights... but what then? Yes, the body is poorly developed and it still needs to be trained and trained, then, when the pain in the stretched and overstrained muscles goes away, when the broken knuckles heal, then I have to do long and hard work to develop this body.
And then suddenly it dawned on me. Here it is! I raised my right hand to my eyes and clenched it into a fist, as if testing a new glove, stretching the skin at the folds. There was no pain. No pain, no abrasions, no swelling, nothing. But I clearly remembered the crunch, and even if there was no fracture or dislocation, after such a blow, Shinji-kun's unprepared knuckles were simply bound to swell. I got to my feet and walked around the room, jumped several times, waved my arms, twisted my neck, and performed a series of direct blows on the shadow. Nothing hurt anywhere. Hm.
I frowned. This needs to be checked. When Nanase-neesan came home late at night, opening the door with her key, the first thing she saw was me doing push-ups on the floor. Classic push-ups, full range until your chest touches the floor.
- Tadaima, Shinji-kun! - she sang, taking off her shoes and stretching: - and you, I see you're not wasting time! Well done! How many push-ups did you do?
- Ten. - I muttered, getting up. I couldn't tell my older sister that I lost count of push-ups after the first hundred.