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Akira was about to go to the cafeteria to eat when his phone suddenly rang.
He looked at the caller ID; it was Sato-senpai from the boxing club.
"Shimizu! Where are you now?" Sato's cheerful voice came through as soon as the call connected.
"Sato-senpai?" Akira raised an eyebrow. "Are we training today, and you want me to show up?"
"It's not about training! It's my own thing," Sato said. "A junior my girlfriend knows is getting bullied, and she wants you to come show your face—just for support. I don't think you'll need to do anything; just come watch."
"Alright, I'll be right there." Akira agreed.
Sato-senpai had looked out for him many times, so he had no reason to refuse this request.
"Then come straight to the window seats on the first floor of the cafeteria; we're all waiting here!"
After hanging up, Akira turned and walked towards the cafeteria.
As soon as he pushed open the glass door on the first floor, his gaze was drawn to the long table by the window, Sato-senpai was sitting there.
His sturdy physique, honed by years of boxing, was hard to miss—with his broad shoulders, you could spot him from three or four tables away.
Across from Sato sat a girl with a high ponytail, probably his girlfriend.
But there were more than just the two of them—the other third-year upperclassmen from the boxing club were also there. All of them were tall with broad shoulders and narrow waists, their school uniform jackets stretched tight over their muscles.
Their meal trays sat untouched on the table. They clearly weren't there to eat. Even sitting in silence, they had an intimidating presence that kept the surrounding tables empty.
"Shimizu-kun, over here!" Sato saw him and waved, his voice as loud as it was in the training hall.
"Coming." Akira quickened his pace and sat down at the long table.
"Shimizu-kun, you haven't been slacking off on training lately, have you?" Sato patted him on the shoulder, neither too lightly nor too heavily. "Are you getting enough practice in every day?"
"Yes, I train for about an hour and a half every day."
"Let me see..." A tall upperclassman glanced at Akira and smiled. "He's not exaggerating. Look at how steady his steps were when he walked over—he's definitely been working on his lower body."
The conversation shifted naturally to boxing—the feel of the new gloves, last week's friendly match with other schools, various topics flowing easily.
Sato's girlfriend listened quietly, occasionally adding a word or two with a smile when Sato asked her something.
However, after a few minutes of small talk, Sato's girlfriend suddenly turned to Akira. "Shimizu-kun, do you have a girlfriend now? If not, how about I introduce you to someone?"
"Uh…" Akira replied honestly. "Not yet."
"Oh? Perfect!" Sato slapped his palm on the table. "My girlfriend knows tons of girls, and she's got great judgment. Let her pick someone for you—it'll work out! But skip the third-years. You've still got three years here, so a first-year would be better. You could stay together longer."
"First-years? Sure, I know some." Sato's girlfriend laughed. "Actually, it's that cute junior I mentioned before, the one who asked us to help with the bullying."
When she said "cute," she winked at Akira.
Sato slapped his thigh. "Right! That junior! She's really good-looking and super gentle. She'd be a great match for you, Shimizu-kun!"
"Uh…senpai, let's handle the bullying thing first." Akira was caught off guard and tried to change the subject.
How did helping out turn into matchmaking?
Who were they even talking about?
Cute, gentle personality.
There weren't many first-years who fit that description.
"Hmm, we'll talk about that later. Here they come!" Sato suddenly narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the other side of the cafeteria. "It's those guys."
Akira followed his gaze and saw a group swaggering in from the entrance. Leading them was a boy with a buzz cut, shoulders swaying exaggeratedly as he walked.
He was stunned. He knew them.
Ishizaki's group from Class 1-C.
'How could it be them?'
"Let's go, everyone follow me." Sato stood up, his voice a few shades deeper. "The junior said it was this group of people."
The other boxing club upperclassmen stood up as well.
They all had physiques built from years of boxing. As they stood, their previously relaxed aura shifted, becoming sharp and focused.
Akira followed behind them as they walked over and blocked Ishizaki's path to the tables.
Ishizaki was about to call out to his classmates, planning to find some Class 1-B kid to mess with like usual, when he looked up and ran into a wall of people.
He tried to put on his usual tough act, after all, he was close to Ryuuen and walked around like he owned the place among the first-years, but when he saw the lineup in front of him, the words died in his throat.
The guys blocking his path were all half a head taller than him, especially the third-year upperclassman at the front. The guy was nearly 1.9 meters tall with shoulders like a wall—even more muscular than Albert from their class.
His school uniform collar had a third-year badge, and his arm muscles strained against his sleeves. Just standing there, he gave off a "don't mess with me" vibe.
Ishizaki swallowed hard. With that physique and that grade, this was someone he absolutely couldn't afford to piss off.
He could already imagine how long he'd be in the hospital if that fist connected.
"S-senpai, what can we do for you?" He dropped all his arrogance, his voice softer than usual. His heart was pounding. What the hell had they done to provoke these guys?
"You're Ishizaki Daichi, right? You guys have been bothering our junior and her classmates these past few days, haven't you?" Sato stepped forward, looking down at Ishizaki with no politeness in his tone. "I heard you're from Class 1-C? Listen up, from now on, you stay away from her and her classmates."
Ishizaki and his friends hunched their shoulders, not even daring to breathe too loud.
Sato glanced at them again, his tone softening slightly. "Look, I'll cut you some slack because of Albert from your class—that kid trains seriously in the boxing club, and his performance is solid. If he sparred with me now, he could probably last ten rounds. So we'll let this slide today."
He leaned in closer. "But if there's a next time, we won't be having a nice chat like this. Don't think hiding under surveillance will save you. We're about to graduate. We don't give a damn about class points anymore."
Ishizaki and his friends' faces went pale. Albert was one of the top three fighters in their class. From Sato's tone, this upperclassman clearly had a high position in the boxing club and didn't even consider Albert a threat. Was he the club president?
If they pissed him off and he got Albert kicked out, they'd probably get their asses kicked by an enraged Albert.
What was worse was what Sato said about graduating soon. Third-years about to graduate really didn't need to worry about school rules or class points.
If they were pushed too far, these guys wouldn't play by the rules at all.
Ishizaki felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but his mind was racing—he really couldn't remember which girl he'd messed with recently.
"Uh, senpai," he forced himself to look up, his voice uncertain. "Which junior are you talking about?"
Before Sato could answer, his girlfriend cut in, her voice cold. "Ichinose Honami from Class 1-B. You guys have been harassing her classmates these past few days. Even if you're competing with Class B for Class A, using methods like this is going too far."