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“Hey! Hoshikawa, what the hell is wrong with you!?”

The moment lunch break began the next day, Harutaki found himself being half-dragged, half-hauled across the skywalk by Nogami under the eyes of the entire class, until the two finally disappeared into an unused classroom in another building.

But this time, unlike before, the glances thrown his way weren’t just sympathetic; they carried a faint edge of hostility too.

[Second Year, Ranked Fourth? A Sudden Genius Emerges?]

“You can’t even keep yourself safe right now, can you?”

Nogami’s voice was sharp with irritation as she shoved her phone screen at him.

The post in question described how some nobody, a student of average grades who’d never made waves, had suddenly soared to the top ranks after the start-of-term exam, surpassing several well-known high achievers in their year.

And at the end of that post, the author attached a screenshot of an exam report card, one showing dismal scores across the board, claiming it was from that same student’s first-year finals.

The post never mentioned Harutaki’s name, but since the top ten students’ results were already posted on the school’s main stairway and bulletin board, it didn’t take much detective work to figure out who “the mysterious fourth-place student” really was.

And in the replies, over seventy of them, many voices chimed in with agreement.

After all, every student in Nichiya High knew exactly how brutal the climb up the academic ranks was.

If you were working hard, didn’t that mean everyone else was, too?

Most of them had been grinding for years with a single dream: Tokyo U, Keio, Teito, or some other elite school. Cram schools and private tutors were practically standard issue.

So how could an unknown face suddenly leap ahead in just one summer?

To believe that was to deny the brilliance of Tokyo’s top ten percent, or worse, to mock all their hard work.

“Ahh, that thing.”

“You’re even more at ease than I am, looking all laid-back like nothing’s wrong, what an irritating bastard.”

She kicked at his leg, fuming, scrolling through the comment section again.

Wasn’t she supposed to feel a little happy that Harutaki was now in a mess just like her? Wasn’t this the perfect time to gloat, to tell him “See? You said walking by the riverbank, you were bound to get your shoes wet someday!”

He’d gone and gotten himself dragged into the same trouble she was in, and somehow that made her even angrier.

Exactly!

Her frustration and anxiety weren’t just about the rumors, they were because this idiot who’d promised to help her couldn’t even handle his own situation!

And… no way.

He didn’t really cheat, did he?

Did this idiot seriously just beat her grades fair and square?

Nogami’s thoughts tangled in a knot of contradiction.

Part of her wanted Harutaki to prove his strength, to show that his ranking was real, so he could deal with the bullying and online harassment that plagued them both.

But another part, petty, childish, proud, couldn’t stand the idea of him actually being better than her.

If Harutaki really was the fourth-ranked genius, then what did Nogami Izumi have left to boast about?

Looks? They were on equal ground.

Athletics? Girls had a biological disadvantage.

Cunning? Maturity? Poise under pressure? He outclassed her in all of that.

And now, academics too?

“Say, Nogami-san. Why do you think this is a problem? Isn’t it possible the person who posted that thread… was me?”

He logged into his account, turned his phone toward her, and showed the editing interface.

“See?”

“You, why would you do that!? Don’t tell me your grand solution to my problem is to ‘share the suffering,’ so we both get roasted together!?”

Though… that idea didn’t sound completely impossible.

They were the only two people in Nichiya High being ostracized. The school’s resident outcasts.

But still, no. Harutaki was not the kind of guy to be that considerate.

He was the type to mock her helplessness with a smirk while lending a hand, only to ruin the moment by saying something like, “If you’re really grateful, flash me some cleavage,” or “A proper apology requires groveling, you know.”

Just picturing it made her fists clench tight.

“If you think pulling this self-sacrificing nonsense is going to make me fall for you, you’re delusional. Not in a million years. I honestly don’t get why you daydream so much, Hoshikawa.”

She tilted her chin up, giving him a sidelong glare brimming with scorn.

“When you end up where I am, don’t expect sympathy. I’ll be the first to laugh my head off, you idiot!”

“You really think too highly of yourself, Nogami-san. I’ve told you before, my type is Shihou-san. Not some foul-mouthed, ill-tempered delinquent like you.”

For someone like Nogami, pushovers never got anywhere. And Harutaki wasn’t looking for a goddess to worship, he was looking for a girlfriend.

He could take a little embarrassment if it got him somewhere useful, but this…

“Sorry, but I’ve gotta be honest,” he said, wearing that easy grin that only made her angrier. “Whoever ends up dating or marrying you, Nogami-san, is doomed for eight lifetimes straight.”

“Hoshikawa, you absolute scumbag!”

“Thanks. I do try to keep my good looks consistent with my villainy.”

This bastard, this infuriating bastard, he was the real tsundere here!

Nogami ground her teeth as she glared at his smug, self-satisfied face. She wanted nothing more than to throw him to the floor right then and there, to crush that handsome smirk beneath her heel and trample the arrogance right out of him.

“Anyway,” he said, steering the conversation back on track before it could explode again, “use that brilliant brain of yours and think, why would I do this?”

As he spoke, Harutaki quietly confirmed a troubling suspicion.

This girl probably liked him.

Just a little. But compared to the way she viewed everyone else, mere “ants” or “toys”, even that was extraordinary.

And getting tangled up with someone like Nogami Izumi? That was dangerous.

No matter how breathtaking she was, her looks, her figure, her family background, it didn’t matter.

Liking her, or being liked by her, was nothing but trouble.

Prideful, arrogant, cutting, cold, always standing above others, and never once considering their feelings.

Even if he’d managed to soften that attitude a little, she was still far from “ideal girlfriend” material.

She only ever cared about herself.

Unless he had a secret masochistic streak, there was no way Harutaki would accept a girl like that.

A man should never live his life kneeling, he thought grimly.

Whatever stirrings of affection he felt, they were only for those rare, fleeting moments when her softer side peeked through.

Her personality’s softness, of course. Not… anything else.

“Why you’d do this…” Nogami murmured, scrolling back to the top of the thread, mind spinning.

She had to admit, as much as she wanted to hate him, Harutaki wasn’t the type to cheat.

Assuming he hadn’t, there were only two reasons to make a post like this himself.

Either he wanted to make people believe his grades were fake, which made no sense at all.

Or… he wanted to prove the post itself was fake.

Yes. That was it. He’d created a false rumor to expose the nature of false rumors.

So then, why not just show proof directly? Why not reveal his method and clear her name?

After a pause, the answer came to her like a spark.

If a person under suspicion insists on their own innocence without any credible foundation, people rarely believe them.

In fact, the more they try to deny it, the guiltier they look.

People only believe what they want to believe. And once they’ve decided something is true, they’ll twist reality itself to keep believing it.

For example, even with countless pieces of evidence backing it up, there are still people who believe America’s moon landing was filmed on a Hollywood set.

And there are those who’ve never once left their hometown, yet firmly believe in the flat earth theory, insisting that the idea of a round planet is just another lie fabricated by those in power…

Not everyone was like that, of course, but what if?

What if Harutaki stepped forward as the “rumormonger,” and people thought she’d bribed him? Or fabricated the evidence herself?

Then the only way left to prove her innocence was to prove the system itself couldn’t be trusted.

“Hoshikawa… you’re trying to use this post to prove that any anonymous accusation on the school forum could just as easily be fake, aren’t you?”

But that still wasn’t enough.

No, this much alone wouldn’t convince the masses.

And why… why would he use himself as the tool to make that point?

Why stain his own name just to do it? Was it really… for her?

Ha. As if a few little acts of kindness could sway her heart.

What a naive idiot.

Dogs wag their tails to get pats on the head, not love letters!

She’d decided. Once this mess was over, she’d give him some reward.

A pat on the head, maybe. Or… a lap pillow, if she was feeling generous.