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443 – The Unpredictable Toyogasaki Academy
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 15:16:21 +0000 UTC“Such a ridiculous stunt… I’m guessing it wasn’t you who came up with it, Miss Sakura?”
“Wahahaha! Covering my ears and ringing a bell? I’d never do something that stupid! You’re too funny, Utaha-chan.”
Yamauchi Sakura laughed boldly, denying it without batting an eye while Kasumigaoka Utaha stood before her with a magazine in hand, looking two parts helpless, three parts exasperated, and completely speechless.
“Eriri also does her share of stupid things, but hers always have a very… distinct signature to them.”
Kasumigaoka glanced down at the magazine.
Inside was an article that broke down the “perfect body type” for the new generation of women, analyzed from body proportions, health status, social context, and historical trends.
She didn’t even need to check the byline—this was clearly written by the man she loved most.
The data was thorough, the arguments solid, and the rhetoric dazzlingly persuasive.
No one but Kyousuke could pull that off.
Those with better writing than him couldn’t lie so shamelessly; those who could lie that shamelessly didn’t have his crystal-clear, scientifically logical reasoning.
And even if someone matched him in both, they wouldn’t be dumb enough to hand such an article to Eriri of all people—someone capable of writing a world-class academic paper wasting that ability on something this utterly meaningless.
Only the ever-debating Sakura could dream up such a harebrained scheme—and only Kyousuke would have the leisure (and the mischief) to go along with it.
“Mohahaha! Utaha-chan, you really are too funny!”
Sakura denied it again, clearly determined to never admit anything.
As it happened, this was a magazine Ueno Naoka had been subscribing to for years.
And thanks to a certain blonde “accidentally” over-ordering two hundred extra copies, the surplus was “not to be wasted”—meaning every family member got one, and the rest were distributed to classmates free of charge.
“Sakura-san, do you know the fastest way for a fool to become a smart person?” Kasumigaoka asked.
“Reincarnation!” Sakura replied instantly and with such conviction it was almost touching.
“…Honestly, why do I even try having serious conversations with you?” Kasumigaoka sighed, lowering her head. Then, almost resigned, she added:
“Even if your brain isn’t sharp, as long as you surround yourself with people even dumber, you’ll look smart by comparison.”
Someone like Eriri—if she didn’t have Sakura and Kyousuke egging her on—would quickly realize how childish she was being.
Unfortunately, she was surrounded by people who enjoyed nonsense even more than she did.
“But Utaha-chan… aren’t you having fun too?”
Sakura leaned forward, elbows on her knees, smiling brightly and speaking with genuine warmth.
Kasumigaoka’s smile froze.
That frozen moment was when she realized—oh no, she really was enjoying this.
She could see it reflected in Sakura’s bright yellow eyes: her own face, delighted and completely invested.
The brunette rose from her seat and strolled into the courtyard, stopping beside the blonde princess who was painting.
She leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in her ear.
Kasumigaoka was right—everyone’s brand of stupidity was uniquely their own.
Even as a child, Yamauchi Sakura had wanted to claim the nickname “Beautiful Idiot” for herself, debating with Kyousuke at length to prove how dumb she was—only to give the title to Hojou Mikiko in the end, out of friendship.
Her way of doing things was as sunny as her personality: full of absurd logic, wildly unpredictable, purely for her own amusement.
She never asked for understanding or forced acceptance.
Unlike the prideful arrogance of Hojou Kyousuke or Kasumigaoka Utaha, Sakura’s pride was different—infectious, not repellent.
Take, for instance, her current “master plan” for Eriri—establishing a “perfect body” standard based entirely on Eriri’s figure.
It was idiotic, childish… and yet, somehow, charming.
From what Kasumigaoka knew, after Naoka (credited as the second author) got so pestered she started leaking behind-the-scenes details, the idea actually caught fire at Toyogasaki Academy.
And now? The drama club and cheer squad had decided to team up with the art club and textile club to hold a public debate in front of the entire school.
The reason these four clubs were the main players was simple: their respective “champions” were Kasumigaoka Utaha and Sawamura Spencer Eriri.
Of course, the debate topic wouldn’t be “Kasumigaoka Utaha vs. Sawamura Eriri – Who Has the Perfect Figure?” Instead, it was:
“Should the definition of justice be determined by breast size?”
The red-eyed witch had been bored—until she heard the title and burst out laughing.
This was a win–win. If the affirmative team won, Eriri could cry her heart out. But if the negative team won…
Truthfully, Kasumigaoka was looking forward to that outcome even more.
When the debate ended, she could already picture Eriri’s fan club girls rushing up to another classmate, cheering:
“Congratulations, Kashiwagi Eri-senpai! Small busts are the true justice! Flat chests are perfection!”
“Hold your head high, Sawamura-senpai! This is a glorious victory—small has triumphed over big!”
“Who needs big breasts? They’re nothing but the path of evil!”
The blonde idiot’s expression in that moment would be priceless.
Kasumigaoka could already imagine those golden twin tails drooping lifelessly.
And she, in turn, would step forward, bow solemnly, and say with utmost sincerity:
“I’m sorry, Sawamura-san. I admit that small busts are the true standard of female perfection.”
Just the thought made Kasumigaoka’s wine-red eyes sparkle with wicked delight.
She glanced back toward the courtyard—Sakura looked supremely confident, while Eriri seemed lost in thought.
The scene was so absurd she nearly laughed out loud.
That was Yamauchi Sakura for you—unpredictable and impossible to pin down.
Any situation she touched would veer off like a runaway dog into completely unknown territory.
If Kasumigaoka was a witch, then Sakura was a sorceress. Poor Eriri, believing her nonsense… so adorable.
Kasumigaoka was eagerly awaiting tomorrow’s debate.
She had even hired a professional film crew, with a dedicated camera trained solely on Kashiwagi Eri, to capture every flicker of emotion as she broke down and slid into despair.
Unfortunately, before the event could take place, Toyogasaki Academy scheduled a disaster-preparedness drill.
The drill itself wasn’t the highlight.
The highlight… was the evacuation slide from the rooftop.
“Wow, she’s sliding fast!”
A graceful, beautiful blonde lady covered her mouth in surprise.
“Yeah… she does seem faster.”
“Maybe it’s the material of the school uniform?”
“No way, it’s obviously her weight!”
“Idiot! Kasumigaoka-senpai isn’t fat!”
“Idiot, don’t frame me—I never said she was fat, just… heavier!”
“But weight does affect sliding speed—”
“Oh, oh! Look, Sawamura-senpai really is slower than Kasumigaoka-senpai!”
“So I guess to survive an evacuation, we should all eat more and… uh… gain a bit of weight.” The blonde lady’s tone was light and refined.
“But if you get too heavy, you might get stuck.”
“Just aim for Kasumigaoka-senpai’s level.”
…
On the flat ground below, the teachers in charge of the disaster drill noticed something odd.
For some reason, the girls coming down later were sliding much slower—almost as if they were deliberately using their hands and feet to brake.
“Hey! That’s dangerous! You need to come down in one go and let your body weight carry you!”
A whistle-wearing teacher shouted upward.
The teachers on the roof began urging them as well.
But strangely, the more they shouted, the slower the girls slid.
The supervising teacher’s expression soured, and he moved to scold them—only to notice the girls’ faces were even more tense than his own.
Seriously, what was going on? Disaster drills weren’t exactly new. Were they that nervous?
He softened his tone.
This was the rooftop, after all—if someone panicked and jumped, that would be on him.
His back instinctively bent forward as he tried to reassure them with the gentlest voice he’d ever used:
“It’s okay. You’re not going to fall out. Your weight will keep you pressed to the slide, and you’ll zip straight down to the ground—totally safe. Even Kaneda, whose father’s a sumo wrestler, landed perfectly fine, right?”
But to his dismay, his kind words only seemed to make the girls more nervous.
The boys, on the other hand, were perfectly cooperative… though they kept timing their slides, comparing results, and for some reason, comparing weights.
What on earth did sliding and body weight have to do with each other? The P.E. teacher frowned, deep in thought.
Meanwhile, the girls who’d already come down were busy discussing how fast they slid, launching into heated debates about it.
Kasumigaoka Utaha, who had already slid down and was now walking with the group toward the evacuation area, had no idea any of this was going on.
It wasn’t until after the drill, when she returned to the classroom, that she heard the story from two of her devoted fangirls.
“Idiots,” she said bluntly. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face.
Whether she was slim or not had nothing to do with those morons—Kyousuke’s adoring gaze was all the validation she needed.
She’d understood since childhood: if you cared too much about other people’s opinions, you’d never accomplish anything.
But when she heard the original remark that started it all, spoken by none other than Kashiwagi Eiri, she did feel a twinge of exasperation.
“Don’t worry, Kasumigaoka-san! Even if you’re a little heavier, you’re still perfect in my eyes!”
“That’s right! No matter the outcome, Sawamura-san’s figure can’t compare to yours!”
The two fangirls comforted her while professing their loyalty.
After spending a little more time around her, they’d realized Kasumigaoka wasn’t as unapproachable as the rumors claimed.
…Well, okay, she was hard to get along with.
Even as her die-hard fans, they couldn’t lie about that.
She clearly had no interest in making friends, and treated anyone who tried to get close with complete disdain—like an apex predator who could crush you with a single look.
Fortunately, during the last “war” (a.k.a. The Hojou Kyousuke Girlfriend Bookstore Awards Incident), they had unwaveringly sided with her, earning the rare privilege of speaking to her directly.
Once you could actually talk to her, her charm came through.
Too proud to lie, she always gave a straight answer when asked.
As a result, they’d learned a lot of inside information—like the existence of the so-called…
“Wife War.”
Beneath the calm surface of everyday life raged a treacherous, unpredictable battle where even someone as formidable as Kasumigaoka had to fight with all her strength.
Sawamura was the opposing force, surviving only through ignorance and luck.
Even without witnessing it firsthand, hearing about it from participants made the fangirls shiver at how terrifying this “Wife War” was.
“Big boobs are justice!”
The two cried out in unison—and the rest of the class picked up the chant.
By now, it wasn’t just about two people or four clubs—it had become an underclassman rebellion against the seniors.
Third-years like them were busy preparing for exams and exercised less, so gaining weight was natural.
And now these brats dared to mock them for sliding faster?
Outrageous. Did they forget the only reason they got the lower floors was because the seniors let them have them? In a real disaster, they would be the first to escape.
Too much!
“Victory to big boobs!”
“Yeah!”
The room shook with enthusiasm.
Kasumigaoka winced and rubbed her temples.
The debate was about to begin.
The gym was packed to capacity, with even the aisles and open spaces crammed with people.
Banners had been hastily made, and the cheer squad—full of shapely, die-hard “big boob” supporters—was dancing to fire up their team.
In the very front row of the audience sat a girl with hair like a waterfall of midnight and eyes like fresh blood.
She sat alone, poised and elegant.
Even though tickets were now being scalped, the two seats beside her remained empty.
Without speaking a word or changing her expression, her presence alone kept people at a respectful distance.
Then, with a warm smile, the golden-haired princess walked in.
Even though she was the opposing team’s representative, no one glared at her. In fact, they greeted her with excitement.
After all—this was Toyogasaki’s perfect young lady.
