Chereads / The Lying Detective / Chapter 4 - CHAPTER-4 "Friendless Detective"

Chapter 4 - CHAPTER-4 "Friendless Detective"

I kept walking through the seemingly endless hallway in the second-year section, my face as emotionless as ever. The students around me, all in their black and white uniforms, barely registered in my mind.

Each one seemed to blend into the next, and I couldn't help but wonder what my own class was going to be like.

Of course, I already knew my grade and I will explained that later on how.

Still, my mission was now clear as day, get to the classroom BEFORE everyone stares at me for being late. With this single objective in mind, I picked up the pace, trying to move with purpose.

But before I could make any significant progress, I heard heavy footsteps approaching me. Instinctively, I glanced over my shoulder, my expression still as blank as ever.

What I saw was... Kinda unexpected to be honest

A student was walking toward me in a yellow uniform.

Yes, yellow. Not black, not white, yellow. His eyes were a strange mix of yellow and orange, and he had short but long at the same time, white hair that almost glowed in the dim hallway light.

Considering the distinct lack of black or white in his outfit, I immediately deduced that he must be someone important.

"Hello there! You're a second-year student, right?" he called out with far too much energy. "I'm Hastur Kiiro, a third-year student and the president of the student council!"

"...Cool," I replied, my voice deadpan. I already know what the student council was but you all already know the summary of it if you have go to school

"Didn't know Japan allowed hair dye in schools..."

"I WAS BORN WITH THIS WHITE HAIR MAN!"

Hastur suddenly yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway. His face turned red, and he quickly regained his composure as a bunch of students look at us. "Ahem! Sorry about that... But you must be wondering why I'm talking to you, right?"

"...Yeah. Sure, I guess," I replied, shrugging indifferently.

"Great!"

Hastur chirped, pulling out a clipboard filled with papers. He flipped through the sheets with a level of enthusiasm I hadn't seen since Ayaka dragged me into a changing room. After a moment, he stopped, his finger landing on one of the papers.

"I decided to help you out since you looked a bit lost!" He grinned, as if solving some great mystery.

"You're Losherk Andrew, right?"

"Yes..." I said, suppressing a sigh. I did not put my full legal name to stay anonymous for a quite a bit.

"Then you're in... Class 2-D!..."

Hastur declared triumphantly. He paused for a moment, glancing between me and the paper as if confirming something crucial, probably because of my grade class.

"... Well! To get there, you'll need to turn left, then right, go straight ahead, and take another left! You'll arrive safely under the guidance of the president!"

He pointed at himself with a wide, proud smile that made me reconsider the benefits of transferring to another school....

"Right..." I replied flatly, staring at him.

"But, President... Where did you get that yellow uniform?" My face remained expressionless, but inside, I was genuinely curious on the inside mentally

"Oh!" Hastur perked up even more, as if waiting for this exact question.

"The school allows students who've done extra work or joined something important, ike the Student Council, to wear colorful clothes! So naturally, I picked my favorite color. yellow!"

I blinked... "Of course you did..."

"Isn't it great?" Hastur said, twirling in place like a sunflower.

"You see, being part of something big comes with perks, and different colored uniforms are just the beginning!"

I nodded slowly, considering his words. I mean, a colorful uniform just to prove you've joined something important? That seemed... excessive. But then again, if that's what it took to ditch this gloomy black outfit, maybe it was worth considering.

"Right," I said, my voice still devoid of emotion. "That sounds... fascinating." Hastur didn't seem to catch the sarcasm. Instead, his eyes sparkled with even more enthusiasm.

"It is! I mean, look at me! Do I not radiate leadership? Do I not look like the beacon of this academy?"

I blinked at him, deadpan. "You look like a human traffic cone..."

There was a brief moment of silence as Hastur processed what I said. Then, much to my surprise, he chuckle

"Good one! See? You've already got the spirit! Friend with me, and you'll be wearing bright colors in no time!"

"Right... But I don't want to be with you traffic cone." I muttered again. Hastur's energy was almost exhausting to be around.

I know that you might think I wanna join something important such as the student council group but I already denied this from the beginning.

Inorder to feel freedom and do anything with it as it is limited, you must do what you wish for with it.

I never have once a normal scene in my story, a kid with genius level intelligence?, is that normal?, and so this what drive me to do what I wish in this school, seeing how a normal person live... I forever envy people with personality...

"Well, thanks for the directions, President Hastur..." I said, trying to end the conversation before it spiraled further.

"No problem, Andrew!" Hastur replied, giving me a cheerful salute. I watched him walk away, his yellow uniform practically glowing in the dim hallway.

With that, I turned and resumed my journey down the hall, a little more resigned to the chaos of this academy. Following the directions, left, right, straight, and then another left, I finally arrived at my destination.

Class 2-D.

I had known this would be my class from the start, and now I can explain how I ended up here. It all began with the entrance exams and look up on the internet of the exams question on the last entrance exams since I know it would be almost the same.

I employed a technique I call the "50% of 1%.", the name come from the fact that I know I will be the only on with this types of scores.

The goal was simple, to avoid being fully understood by anyone. You have to make yourself appear ambiguous, like someone who could fit into multiple categories.

That's where my poker face comes into play. From this point forward, I'll have to maintain a perfect 50% on everything, grades, behavior, preferences, so no one can read me.

So they will not know what I like, not what I dislike, not how I act, not what is my personality and certainly not who I love. So when I got the lowest possible grade class, I wasn't surprised.

In fact, I had expected and wanted it. Since I expected people here to not be that intellect enough to deduced and read through my act and myself.

I entered the classroom. It was quiet, but not completely empty. Five students were scattered around the room and three were in a group. This was my home for the school year, whether I liked it or not.

I decided to sit in the middle-right section of the class, next to the window. It was a strategic choice, not too close to the front where I might be seen as a teacher's pet, but not all the way in the back where students are often stereotyped as slackers with bad attitudes.

And not all the way in the middle to seem smart to look like that I know I wouldn't be any one of those stereotypical seaters.

This seat allowed me to blend in, neither standing out for the wrong reasons nor drawing unnecessary attention.

As I waited for the classroom to fill up, I found myself staring out the window. The rain had started suddenly, its droplets splattering rhythmically against the glass.

While this might be a mundane event for most, I found it oddly fascinating. The sky had been clear moments ago, and now, water was cascading down, creating intricate patterns on the window. Despite my emotionless expression, I couldn't help but admire it.

I watched as I favor In a big waterdrop to win against another giant waterdrop in a race to the bottom, as I later see that my favorite water drop lose.

Lightning Strike

"AAH!"

Several students screamed as the room momentarily lit up from the bright flash. Their sudden reaction pulled me away from the window, and I turned my attention back to the classroom.

It had filled up quickly. There were now twelve students, and I was surprised by how fast they had entered.

Forty minutes had passed since I first arrived, yet the room had gone from empty with only six student to a container buzzing with life.

I scanned the room, noticing that while some students gathered in small groups, most were absorbed in their smartphones, paying little attention to their surroundings.

Laughter and chatter began to fill the air as students settled in, but my attention was diverted when I heard the sound of the door opening again. Another student entered.

"Alright, here we are! I'm sure this is your classroom!" It was Hastur, the same student council president with the yellow uniform and white hair. Beside him was another student, someone I had seen before of course... It was her.

She have short white hair, wore the standard black uniform, and carried herself with a composed, confident posture like always when I first see her in that alleyway of the convinenced store.

She had handled that group of thugs in the alleyway with ease, and I hadn't stepped in because, well... she didn't need my help.

She was strong, and I knew it. But now, here she was, in my class. Who's Probably gonna go up to me and 'talk' about that encounter and especially where I ran off away from her.

"Hm?... Well, alright then, kinda unexpected to see this is my class, but I'll take it-" She began talking, but as soon as she spotted me, she stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment, clearly recognizing who I was. I could see the flash of acknowledgment before she quickly turned back to Hastur, pretending nothing had happened.

"Hm? Is something wrong?" Hastur asked, noticing her hesitation.

"No, no... nothing's wrong... So, all the desks are numbered, right? Which one's mine?" She said, smoothly redirecting the conversation.

"Yep! Here you go." Hastur handed her a slip of paper before waving goodbye and walking out of the room.

Sokota glanced at the paper, then began navigating the desks, her eyes scanning for her assigned seat. She eventually stopped at the empty desk next to mine and sat down with a sigh.

"...Why is it this one..." she muttered under her breath, but I heard it clearly. I knew why she was frustrated, sitting next to the guy who didn't help her when she was dealing with those thugs must've been uncomfortable

But I didn't help because I knew she didn't need me. She had more than enough strength to handle them on her own.

"..."

"..."

We sat in silence for a while, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her pull out a book. No, wait... it wasn't a book. It was a 'manga'.

From what I remembered, manga was essentially a Japanese comic, and people who were into tech and pop culture, especially otakus, loved them. Thanks to Ayaka for that knowledge.

At first glance, I might have assumed that she was an "otaku," a person obsessed with computers or aspects of pop culture to the detriment of their social skills. But from our brief interactions, I could tell she was different.

Despite being someone who enjoyed manga, her social skills were sharp from how I see. She hadn't hesitated to speak to Hastur or even engage in conversation earlier.

She wasn't shy or nervous, which is something most socially awkward people would've been.

This was evident in her calm and composed demeanor. She didn't avoid awkward situations like this one, sitting beside me, even after what had happened in the alleyway.

She didn't let her interests in pop culture or manga interfere with her ability to communicate effectively. And that made her more intriguing than I had initially thought.

She was confident, adaptable, and far from socially inept. She was not someone to underestimate I guess...

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I saw the teacher enter the classroom. By then, the room had completely filled with 24 students.

The teacher walked in quietly, introducing himself as he scanned the room with sleepy yet piercing eyes. His black hair, both long and short in uneven patches, swung as he finally stood upright.

"... Hello, everyone. My name is Chasi Maddoti, and I will be your homeroom teacher for this year,"

he began, his voice deep, masculine, and tired, the one that sound like 'mhmm, come to me my little kitty'. He didn't seem enthusiastic about it, as if the weight of this responsibility had already worn him down.

"I'll be teaching you the basics, math, science, gym, and everything the school system throws at you, along with a few extra things from the government, thanks to some funding they've put into this school..."

He sounded like a man who had long given up any pretense of excitement about teaching. His tone was weary but firm, his eyes almost glazed over as if he was reliving past disappointments.

"Anyway, for today, we'll be keeping it light. Later, you'll need to attend the entrance ceremony," he continued.

I scanned the room. It was clear that several of the students weren't even paying attention. One girl in particular caught my eye.

She was caressing her ear while pretending to listen, her face turned away from the teacher. It was a subtle movement, but significant.

In psychology, touching the ear often indicates a subconscious attempt to block out unwanted noise, like the "hear no evil" monkey.

This girl wasn't just daydreaming, she was actively tuning out the teacher's words, signaling that she had no interest in what he had to say.

Her lazy expression and slouched posture only confirmed my suspicion, she wasn't someone who valued authority or instruction.

"..."

The teacher's eyes widened for a brief second when he noticed her behavior, almost as if he recognized it. It was then I realized that this teacher was no ordinary high school instructor.

He had the instincts of someone trained in psychology. A former student or professor of the subject, perhaps?

"Alright, since we only have a few hours before the entrance ceremony starts, I won't be bothering you much today..."

Chasi announced, his tone softening despite his harsh appearance.

"Why don't you all take a few minutes to introduce yourselves to the class? Of course, it's completely optional... If you don't feel like it, that's fine too..."

A self-introduction? To a class that wasn't even listening? The irony wasn't lost on me. But as soon as Chasi mentioned the entrance ceremony, I saw the students start to put their phones away, realizing that maybe they should pay attention after all.

Apparently, even these Class 2-D students knew how important and boring the ceremony was.

But my earlier assumption about the teacher was being proven correct.

The way he picked up on that girl's subtle body language and his shift in attitude afterward pointed to a deeper understanding of psychology.

His eyes had widened slightly when he noticed the ear-touching gesture, showing that he recognized the behavior for what it was.

Then, he had softened his tone and backed off, offering the students a break with an optional self-introduction. This wasn't just kindness. It was a strategic move.

People respond to kindness, especially when they're given the choice to rest or participate. By showing leniency and allowing students to opt out of the introduction, Chasi was subtly gaining influence.

He knew that by playing the "good guy," students would feel more comfortable around him despite everything about him, and they wouldn't hold him in contempt the way they might with stricter teachers. It was a classic psychological tactic, exert control through a show of kindness.

"Yeah, guys! I think we should all introduce ourselves!"

a boy's voice chimed in. He was clearly popular already, especially among the girls. His overly cheerful demeanor and charismatic delivery were enough to charm half of the class girls from how I see...

"It's a great way to get to know each other! Who wouldn't want to make friends on the first day?"

His tone and presence were designed to appeal to the group, but it was all surface-level. A Handsome devil? Sure. Kind? Maybe. But beyond that, nothing about him really stood out...

Girls seem to have this odd fascination with charm, especially the superficial kind. But me?

I prefer someone practical. You know, someone who can actually cook, not that I am gluttonous, and also introduce me into the difference between soap and shampoo, and doesn't drag me into conversations about fashion all the time and then say "B-BuT AnDrEW!, iT lOoK sO SoPhisTiCateD On yOu!"...

"Anyway, my name is Muraka Kamikas! I'm really excited to meet all of you and make you impressed with my skills and I can't wait to become friends with everyone outside and inside!"

And just like that, the whole class erupted into applause as Muraka finished his introduction, beaming as he sat down.

His confidence had clearly set a precedent. By stepping forward first, he encouraged others to follow suit. And like clockwork, the next student stood up, though with far less assurance.

"Uh-Uhmm... H-Hello everyone!... Um..."

A timid girl with blue hair and glasses shakily rose from her seat. Her voice trembled as she tried to introduce herself, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. And just like that, I could tell there would be students who would struggle to take the first step due to their inherent lack of social skills.

Seeing her discomfort, Mr. Chasi spoke up, his voice gentle yet firm despite his harsh looking appearance

"It's okay if you don't want to introduce yourself... Social anxiety is a real thing, and you don't have to push yourself.... You can sit down if you are uncomfortable."

Relieved, the girl nodded and quickly sat back down, her face red with embarrassment. The room was quiet for a moment before another student stood up, ready to introduce himself.

This boy had a slim, athletic build with dyed yellow hair and brown eyes that seemed to light up with enthusiasm.

"Hey, what's up, everybody!? I'm Yuki Yagami! I'm really looking forward to making friends with all of you. I'm all about sports and physical education, which is the only reason I got into this academy!"

He grinned broadly as he spoke and chuckle, his confidence feel infectious. Once again, the class clapped, impressed by Yuki's enthusiasm. But as the applause died down, the next student made a far more unusual entrance.

Without warning, the boy sitting next to Yuki suddenly stood up and placed his foot on the desk, pointing dramatically at the ceiling.

"Yo! What's up, guys! I'm Saki Tamura! You should know, I'm a traditional NEET," he declared proudly, causing a few raised eyebrows. "Oh, do I have posters of three-million-year-old lolis in my room? Of course! And I only came to this school because it's the best place for me to learn, and yes I do have high academic despite my scenario. Thanks, and I'll try my best to make friends!... if that's even possible."

An awkward silence followed his introduction as he sit down quietly. Saki sat down quickly, his expression faltering as he seemed to realize just how strange his words had sounded by looking down at the table

And, for a moment, I debated whether or not to clap. In the end, I did, mostly to save him from complete social ruin. Soon enough, the rest of the class joined in, and the awkwardness lifted, if only slightly.

"..."

"..."

My expression mirrored Mr. Chasi's, both of us unsure of how to process what we had just witnessed.

The modern slang, the peculiar behavior... It was moments like this that made me feel like an old man complaining about "kids these days." Though I wasn't old, I figured I'd make an exception just this once.

The silence in the room broke when another student stood up. She had short brown hair, styled in a way that was unmistakably trendy, like something you'd see on a typical Tik Tok personality. Her presence was much more calculated, as if she knew exactly how to draw attention.

"Hi, everyone! My name's Kei Kiruma!" she said, flashing a bright, practiced smile. "I'm super excited to be here and can't wait to get to know you all! I love making videos," it look like I wasn't wrong... "hanging out with friends, and, like, trying new outfits." She giggled, clearly enjoying the spotlight. "So yeah, if any of you are into social media, hit me up! I make some content together!"

Her introduction was brief but effective. The girls in the room seemed to nod approvingly except the one next to me, and a few even whispered among themselves, already enamored by her confidence. As she sat down, it was clear that Kei had already captured the attention of a significant portion of the class.

But the energy in the room shifted again as the next student slowly rose from his seat.

"Yeah... I'm Kafka Oshino," he muttered, not bothering to raise his voice.

"I don't really care much for introductions, but I guess I'll do it since everyone's doing it. I'm here because I heard the school's got good facilities, and well... I'm not exactly into hard work."

He shrugged. "But hey, I like games and chilling, so if anyone wants to hang out and do nothing, I'm your guy."

ZERO life, ZERO love, ZERO girlfriend, ZERO boyfriend, ZERO hope, ZERO traits, ZERO friends, ZERO unique traits, ZERO Social Skills, NO BALLS, this guy future career is dark as a gorrila, but also has not zero eyes but FOUR EYES.

The class remained quiet for a moment, unsure whether to applaud or not. Kafka's introduction lacked enthusiasm and ambition, but his honesty about his laziness earned him a few chuckles from the back of the room. Reluctantly, a few students clapped...

As another student stood up amid the applause, the room quickly fell into silence. It was the girl sitting next to me, the one I had ignored in the alleyway and avoided later. Do I regret it? Maybe.

"...Hello, everyone! My name is Sokota, and I'm an otaku! I love reading manga, especially genres like Shounen, Romance, and Mystery-Thriller! I even have an entire bookshelf full of manga that I've read!"

She- I mean Sokota, pulled out her phone and showed a picture of her bookshelf, packed with manga, to the entire class. A few students whispered among themselves, and soon many of them walked over to our desk to take a look. I noticed the satisfied smirk on her face as she reveled in their attention.

But after the initial excitement died down, it seemed Sokota had more to say.

"Uh-Uhh..." she stammered, suddenly looking nervous.

I glanced from the rainy window back to Sokota. I could see from her expression that she was sweating and struggling with the rest of her self-introduction. And soon enough, I understood why.

"It's totally okay, Sokota!~" Kei from the class called out encouragingly.

"Yeah! Do your best!~`" Saki dramatically pointed his finger toward the ceiling, shouting in an attempt to motivate her.

As their positive words echoed through the classroom, I noticed Sokota becoming even more nervous.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and though she smiled and gave them a thumbs up, I could tell those words were only adding to her anxiety.

Statements like "Do your best!" and "It's totally okay!" can sometimes come across as pressure for someone who is already extremely nervous.

The person receiving them may feel obligated to live up to those expectations, which only makes them feel more rushed, more pressured. Sokota was clearly feeling that weight.

Seeing this, I decided to help. Moving my chair closer to her, I whispered quietly so only she could hear.

"Just take it slow. No need to rush. To be 'the best at the best', at what you doing, you have to be calm and focused. Relax, and everything will flow naturally. That's when it's truly absolutely 'totally okay'..."

I turned my gaze back to the window, not wanting to make a scene. When I glanced back at her, I saw Sokota blushing slightly, her smile returning.

"...You're pretty smart, emo-looking dude!" she giggled, clearly more at ease now.

She continued her introduction to the class, talking about her daily routine and bragging about how she always gets a full eight hours of sleep.

I, on the other hand, hadn't slept in four days, so I wasn't sure if I should be impressed or envious.

Like I said before, phrases like "Do your best!" or "It's absolutely okay!" can often feel forceful or demanding to someone under stress. It can make them feel worse if they can't immediately meet the expectation of doing their best.

Instead, I offered words that allowed Sokota to take her time. By encouraging her to move at her own pace, I helped her reduce the pressure she felt.

"Alright, everyone, settle down and return to your seats," Mr. Chasi said, standing at the front of the classroom.

"Unfortunately, we don't have time for everyone to introduce themselves now, because we need to head to the entrance ceremony. Please follow me outside."

I stood up, my mind still reflecting on what I had observed in the class. Each student here was unique in their own way. Sokota stood out the most, but the rest of the class was also filled with distinct personalities.

Perhaps this would be the place where I could experience something new, maybe even feel emotions like joy and a sense of belonging. I'd have to engrave the memory of this place into myself.

But something about this place intrigued me even more, the idea of "friends." Everyone seemed so keen on making friends, but what actually defines a friend? If they're in your classroom, dorm, or if you shake their hand, does that make them your friend?

The term just a vague label people use to navigate social structures? I was here, trying to blend in, needing allies to survive the semester, but the idea of a "friend" was still too vague for me.

I thought about Ayaka and Sokota. Could I consider them friends just because they talked to me? I could probably count Ayaka as a friend given everything she had done for me, but Sokota...

Now that I thought back to her introduction, she didn't mention anything about wanting to be friends with the class.

Considering her sharp social skills, perhaps she, too, found the concept of friendship to be a bit vague and overrated, just like I did.

As I stepped outside, waiting in line next to Sokota, I let out a small sigh. This place was already proving to be more chaotic than I had anticipated.