Chapter 35: Devil

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Translator: Soafp

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Fifth Period

The fourth and fifth periods on Mondays, consisting of math and physics, are known among the 2-A students as the “Monday Trial.”

The sixth period is a relatively easier elective subject… art or music, making the trial feel even more intense, or so it seems.

“Gravity and universal gravitation are what we covered recently, right? So today we'll talk about potential energy—”

“““……”””

“Hey, we haven't even been at it for 5 minutes yet. Wake up!”

Even in an advanced school, after lunch and with an unpopular subject, many students begin to doze off.

But not me.

I haven't eaten, so I'm not sleepy.

Additionally…

The fact that it’s an unpopular subject means the average scores are lower. Thanks to devouring physics in my first year, I'd say I earned a solid 5th place in my year.

Therefore.

Sleepiness is zero (survival instinct maximized due to skipping meals).

Energy is infinite (to maintain my rank for the next test).

Right now, in the classroom, I am—“the strongest.”

“Look at Toumachi. The enthusiasm is different—”

“Eh? Th-thank you…”

“Toumachi is amazing! Your eyes are so intense!”

“Fufu.”

“…Thanks.”

“Anyway, let's move on~”

Since I dyed my hair rainbow, I’ve started getting praised more often by the teacher.

Being in the spotlight doesn't feel bad.

And I can clearly feel the intense gaze from Momiji-san each time.

It’s terrifying and I can't bring myself to look.

Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry for talking to you (mental collapse).

My mood swings are intense.

I'm so hungry… I need to focus on the class.

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Ding-dong—

“It's over…”

I poured all my energy into physics.

As a result, I feel like I could score full marks if this topic appears on the test.

I was so desperate that the teacher seemed overwhelmed by the end. I used about ten pages of notes in these 50 minutes alone.

I recorded every single word from the blackboard and the teacher. I demolished the practice problems in an instant. I was probably in the zone (getting carried away). I can't get enough of this feeling where my mind churns out instant answers.

“I'm going to eat now (INT decreased due to reaction).”

“Eh, Toumachi, are you going to eat now?”

“Yeah, that's right.”

“What's with that bread? Does Toumachi like that kind of thing? It's weird~☆”

“Yeah, that's right (self-important).”

As Hiiragi-san approached, I easily dodged her.

“Osaka-style jam bread.” It was buried at the bottom of the half-price sale basket… The sauce was jam-like, and the important part, the noodles, were missing.

To put it another way, it's like a cream-filled bread with sauce-flavored cream inside.

It’s bad. But because I’m so hungry, it seems somewhat bearable.

…

No, it's awful! My inner Kansai person is furious (possession).

“Toumachi, you like Rio, right?”

“Yeah, that's right—!? Cough!!”

I choked on the unexpected question (invulnerability removed).

She's truly a demon queen. Mostly due to her laugh.

Honestly, she’s far more troublesome than Yumesaki-san. In fact, Yumesaki-san is much kinder.

“It can’t be☆ You said ‘yes'!”

“Hey, stop teasing someone who's eating.”

However, Yumesaki-san, the delinquent, admonishes her.

See?

I might fall in love (troublesome).

“Eh, oh… Sorry, I got carried away because it's fun talking to Toumachi.”

“It's okay (eagerly).”

Then Hiiragi-san, looking up with a pout, apologizes. I couldn’t help but respond.

What demon queen? She must be a saint.

Moreover, “It's fun talking to Toumachi”—that can't be a mishearing, right?

“T-Toumachi is too easy to get along with…!”

“…Fufu.”

(silently eating bread)

While the two noisy voices in the background, I enjoy the sauce that ravages my tongue (it's bad).

I'm starting to understand the situation.

I should just keep dancing in their palms (thought abandonment).

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“Okay, Rio and the others are heading to music now☆”

“…You should hurry up.”

After receiving such a kind comment, I quickly moved. Choosing art, a different subject from them, in the past was the best decision ever.

Art Room

There are no assigned seats in this room.

Six large tables for four are arranged, allowing people to group together with their friends.

What am I trying to say? That it's hell for loners (despair).

So, in cases like this, I pretend to be a latecomer and choose a seat away from any groups or empty nearby seats.

In other words—this seat at the far right in the back!

Here, it's a special seat with no one around. “I've won”—

“…”

“!?”

Just as I thought that, she appeared in front of me again.

It's Momiji-san.

[――“S-sorry, I…”――]

Ohhhhhhh!! (freak out).

That rejection from earlier—yet here we are, alone at this desk.

It's tough. She's probably quietly laughing at this pitiful loner (paranoia).

Unlike the demon Hiiragi, she attacks mentally from a different angle.

You could say—“a devil”?

Devil Momiji-san. Oh, that's definitely rude.

“…”

“…”

Silence all around.

I was thinking about trying to talk to her—

[――“S-sorry, I…”――]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!! (second freak out).

The past rejection flashes back again.

My instincts are afraid to open my mouth.

“Umm…”

However, as I struggled with this conflict, I heard a tiny voice—no, even smaller.

A mosquito (super rude).

“?”

“…!”

I inadvertently looked at her face.

From behind her long bangs, her tearful eyes peeked out.

“Um…”

“!”

Then she hid her face behind a large sketchbook used for art.

This is painful.

“…”

But then, a story about a painting we studied in art popped into my mind.

Hamlet.

“To be or not to be, that is the question”—the famous line from this work.

If I were to summarize it in one sentence, it would be “a tragedy where revenge leads to further revenge, with no salvation.”

The timeless masterpiece of Shakespeare, which created many famous paintings, crossed my mind.

That's right, revenge bears nothing.

Even if the person in front of me were a devil.

I should extend my hand.

“E…”

“…Here.”

I cut one page from my notebook with scissors and wrote this with a mechanical pencil, sliding it over to her.

“Excuse me for sitting next to you”—such a polite request (scared).

“…”

Her surprised expression.

Then, her face turned slightly red.

…What does this mean?

“—”

Just as I was thinking that, she suddenly pulled something out of her pencil case. There was indeed an expression of “joy” on her face (I think).

Yes. This reaction isn't from Momiji-san. She really isn't a devil—

“!?”

I thought so.

But it was the calm before the storm.

What she pulled out was—a “rubber eraser.”

Something feels off (foreboding).

And of course, its only purpose is—

—“Erasure.” The sentence I wrote was being erased rapidly.

“…”

And then, Momiji-san stared at the “blank space.” She held a pencil tightly.

Just staring.

As if it were something detestable.

Is she trying to activate some curse?

Am I going to disappear… (maximum paranoia).

Ten seconds passed.

Thirty seconds passed.

One minute passed.

“…”

“…”

The bell rang, and the teacher entered the room while we remained in that state.

What is this, hell?

Is it some kind of twisted re-reversal?

—That's right.

The class isn't over yet.

I'll turn this situation around.