Chapter 8: The Aftermath and the "Prince's" Pride

The day the mid-term results are posted is a bloodbath.

A crowd is crushed against the main bulletin board.

"I failed Physics!"

"I got a B- in English! I'm saved!"

"Where's Fuji-sama's name?"

"Where's Bloody Twilight's?"

As usual, the second I get close, the "Red Sea" parts.

Step, step, step.

The crowd goes silent. They know why I'm here.

I get to the front. My eyes scan the list.

My name.

Rank #1: Isuzu Aoi. (Total Score: 500/500)

A perfect score.

I feel a small, tiny, satisfied smirk pull at my lips.

I scan the list again.

Looking... looking...

Ah.

There he is.

Rank #2: Fuji Kenji. (Total Score: 499/500)

One point.

He missed one point.

I check the subject breakdown.

Physics. He missed one, 1-point question on applied physics.

My smirk gets wider.

I won.

"Congratulations, Isuzu-san."

That voice.

I turn.

Fuji Kenji is standing right behind me. He doesn't look sad. He just looks... thoughtful.

"You too, Fuji-san," I say. I make sure to put just a little emphasis on his name.

"A perfect score," he says, nodding. "Impressive."

"That one physics question must have been tough," I say, my voice dripping with fake sympathy.

His smile tightens. Just a fraction.

"I suppose I was... distracted," he says, his voice dropping.

"Oh? By what? Your fan club?"

"No," he says, meeting my gaze. His blue eyes are sharp. "I was thinking too much about that 'empathy' essay Principal Tanaka assigned."

I freeze.

He knew.

How did he know about that?! Did the Principal tell him?!

That... that... weasel!

"It was a fascinating topic," Fuji continues, that smug smirk back on his face. "Really makes you think."

He's messing with me.

He knows he's messing with me.

I want to wipe that smirk off his face. With a brick.

"Whatever," I grunt, and I turn and walk away.

I won the battle, but... I feel like he just won the war.

I'm stomping my way toward the gym, just to be alone, when I hear voices.

"C'mon, Mori! Just help us out!"

"Yeah, man, don't be a jerk."

I slow down, sticking to the corner of the building.

It's a group of guys. I recognize them. Sato and Kudo. They're on the soccer team. Fuji's "friends."

They've cornered a kid from my class. Mori. He's a shy, super-smart kid from the science club.

"I... I can't," Mori is stammering, clutching his books. "It's... it's cheating."

"Cheating? No!" Sato, the leader, says, putting a 'friendly' arm around Mori's shoulder. "It's 'collaborating.' Look, Fuji-kun aced his tests, so he's fine. But we... we're not geniuses. We're athletes. We need a little help with the make-up test."

"I... I have to go," Mori says, trying to squirm away.

Sato's grip tightens. His voice gets colder.

"Don't be like that, Mori-kun. We're all friends here. You wouldn't want... accidents to happen, would you? Like... say... your big science fair project? Things spill. Things... break."

My blood goes cold.

This... this isn't like Ayaka's dumb, loud bullying.

This is quiet. It's slimy.

It's blackmail.

I hate it.

I hate them.

I'm about to step out. I'm about to go full "Bloody Twilight" on these two-bit soccer jerks.

"That's enough, Sato."

The voice is cold as ice.

I stop.

Fuji Kenji is walking toward them.

His hands are in his pockets. His "Prince" smile is gone.

He looks... furious.

His teammates, Sato and Kudo, jump.

"F-Fuji! Hey, man! We were just... uh... congratulating Mori on his test scores!"

"No, you weren't," Fuji says. His voice is flat. "You were threatening him."

"What? No! We-"

"I heard you. 'Things break.'"

Fuji walks right up to Sato, who is a good three inches taller than him.

Fuji doesn't back down.

"We. Don't. Do. This," Fuji says, his voice dangerously low.

"B-but, Fuji... the test...!"

"Is your problem. Not his. You fail, you fail. You don't drag other people down with you. And you never use my name to do it."

Sato and Kudo look like they've been slapped.

"Get to practice," Fuji orders. "Now. And if I ever hear about you bothering Mori-kun again... you're off the team."

"You can't do that! You're not the coach!"

"You want to bet?" Fuji says.

Sato's face goes red, then white.

He backs down.

"Tch... fine. Whatever."

He and Kudo stalk off, shoving past Fuji.

Fuji just stands there until they're gone.

Then, he turns to Mori, and his entire face changes.

The "Prince" is back.

He kneels, helping the terrified Mori pick up the books he'd dropped.

"Are you alright, Mori-kun? I'm sorry about them. They're idiots."

"I... y-yes... thank you, Fuji-kun," Mori stammers.

"They won't bother you again," Fuji promises, giving him a reassuring smile. "I guarantee it."

I just stand there, hidden by the corner.

Watching.

He... he's a "good guy." A real, actual, cliché "good guy."

He defended the weak. He stood up to his own friends.

He's... perfect.

Tch.

How annoying.

I turn and walk away before he can see me.

My victory on the mid-terms... it suddenly feels a lot less satisfying.