Fearing Someone Dear

Later on, Arata Sato was casually strolling the hallways between classes when he heard someone being bullied in another class.

“Oi, Kanzaki,” a low voice drawled. “You really think you deserve to sit there?”

Ryoken-kun stood over another boy, one hand shoved casually into his pocket, the other resting on the back of the victim’s chair.

His uniform jacket hung open, tie loose, the very picture of effortless arrogance.
A faint smirk curled on his lips, too measured to be pure cruelty, too polished to be entirely sincere.

Haru-kun, the heir to one of Ryoken-kun’s father’s subsidiary companies, stared down at the floor. His knuckles were white where he gripped his textbook.

“S-sorry, Ryoken-sama… I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean what?” Ryoken-kun leaned in, voice soft, dangerous. “Didn’t mean to breathe the same air as the rest of us?”

A ripple of uneasy laughter moved through the surrounding arrogant students. They weren’t sure whether to be entertained or afraid, so they settled for both.

From the back of the crowd, Arata-kun watched irritably.

“What is this fool planning to do, staging such a poor act in front of everyone?” thought Arata as he shrugged his shoulders. 

Arata-kun had confidence; even his broken acting was better... maybe.

Haru-kun’s shoulders were shaking.

Ryoken-kun’s smirk stayed perfectly in place. And just beyond the ring of students, almost hidden, stood a girl.

Short hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Round glasses that kept sliding down her nose. A stack of books hugged to her chest like a shield.

Miyu-chan.

Her brows were drawn together with worry, and her teeth pressed into her lower lip. She watched Ryoken-kun and Haru-kun, eyes flicking between them, a storm of conflict tightening her expression.

Arata-kun let out a quiet breath.

“So that’s how it is,” he murmured to himself.

He stood, pushing his chair back with a soft scrape. Nobody noticed him move; all eyes were locked on the drama unfolding at the center of the classroom.

Ryoken-kun tapped Haru-kun’s textbook with a knuckle.

“What is this? You think studying is going to respect you? People like you dont need grades. You get ahead because people like me let you.”

Haru-kun flinched. Somewhere in the small crowd, someone snickered.

“Ryoken-kun, that’s a bit much…” one of the boys muttered, but not loudly enough to matter.

Miyu-chan took a small step forward, then stopped, fingers tightening around her books.

Arata walked straight through the circle of students, ignoring the muttered protests as he brushed past shoulders and bags. He moved quietly, casually, as if he were simply walking to sharpen a pencil.

He came up behind Ryoken-kun and, without a word, placed a hand on his shoulder.

He stiffened slightly and turned his head. The smirk on his face flickered when he saw who was standing behind him.

“Arata…-kun? Aren't you the merit boy who was on stage with Kujo-san?” he said, eyes narrowing.
“What do you want?”

Arata’s expression held a softness that didn’t reach his eyes. His smile was thin, curved just right. He looked like a saint, but his eyes told another story.

Haru-kun blinked up in confusion. The crowd shifted. Miyu-chan’s eyes widened.

Arata leaned down, close to Ryoken-kun’s ear. His voice dropped low enough that, at first, only Ryoken-kun could hear.

“I can sense it, you know,” Arata whispered.

“You’re fake-bullying him.”

Ryoken-kun froze.

“…What are you talking about?” he muttered, but his voice cracked and the sweat on his forehead gave it away.

Arata’s hand tightened on his shoulder just enough to remind him it was there. To everyone else, it looked friendly. Supportive, even.

“To impress her,” Arata continued softly.
“The girl with glasses. Miyu-chan. She was there during that little ‘bullying session’ near the campus gate this morning, too, wasn’t she? Standing in the crowd. Just like now.”

He didn’t dare glance toward Miyu-chan.

Arata-kun’s smile sharpened.

“You’re arrogant. You’re rich. You’re used to people watching you. Admiring you. Fearing you. But that’s not enough for you, is it?” Arata continued.

“You want one more person to look at you. Just her.”

“You don’t know anything,” he hissed back.

“What…?” he breathed.

Miyu-chan’s fingers loosened around her books, hope flickering across her face at the sudden stalemate.

Arata finally pulled back slightly and let his words spill into the open air.

“You shouldn’t be bullying one person like this,” he said. The malicious curve of his smile remained, contrasting strangely with the moral weight of his words.

“Even if it’s just for show. Even if it’s just to impress a girl.”

Ryoken-kun’s jaw clenched. “You—”

Arata didn’t let him finish.

“It’s your choice how you want to get her attention,” he said quietly.

“Some people confess. Some people show off their talents. You?” he shrugged.

“You decided to be the villain in her story. Fine. But if you’re going to play that role…”

Arata-kun spread his arms slightly, as if presenting himself.

“Then bully me.”

“Come on. Someone like her,” Arata flicked his eyes briefly toward Miyu-chan

“... would definitely care if a merit-based, studious model student like me had someone to fear. Someone like you.” Arata acted strangely innocent as he finished.

Ryoken hesitated.

Arata leaned in, dropping his voice again so only Ryoken-kun could hear.

“Because right now, you’re hurting someone who doesn’t understand the game you’re playing,” he continued.

“Haru-kun thinks this is real. He thinks he deserves this. You’re using him as a prop in your little romance.”

Arata-kun straightened, eyes hard.

“I can handle your act,” Arata-kun said.

“He can’t. So if you need a victim… take me instead.”

Silence swallowed the room, though most hadn't heard anything in the confrontation. Even the hallway noise seemed far away.

Haru-kun stammered, “A-Arata-san, you don’t have to… ”

Arata lifted a hand slightly behind his back, signaling him to stay quiet.

Ryoken-kun searched Arata’s face, looking for mockery, pity, anything he could grab onto and twist.

But all he found was that strange, malicious little smile… and an iron resolve backing it up.

He clicked his tongue. “You think you’re some kind of hero, stepping in like this?” Ryokan replied.

Arata chuckled under his breath. “Heroes don’t smile like this,” he said lightly.

“And they don’t ask to be bullied. I’m just… rearranging the roles a bit.” he added.

Miyu-chan swallowed, heart pounding. Her gaze darted from Haru-kun’s trembling hands to Ryoken-kun’s clenched jaw to Arata’s unyielding stance.

Finally, Ryoken-kun moved.

He grabbed Arata’s collar in one swift motion, fingers fisting in the pristine fabric. Gasps erupted.

“Fine,” he growled, loud enough for everyone to hear. “If that’s what you want, honor student… I’ll show you fear.”

Arata’s smile widened just a fraction.

“Good,” he whispered. “Make it convincing enough, idiot.”

Their eyes locked, one burning with pride and frustration, the other coldly calculating, something darker coiled beneath the surface.

Miyu-chan took a step forward at last. “Ryoken-kun!” she shouted, voice cracking but firm. 

“Stop it! This isn’t right!”

Every head turned toward her.

There it was, the attention Ryoken-kun had wanted all along.

Arata watched the flicker of surprise, the raw, unguarded emotion that crossed Ryoken-kun’s face when he heard her voice. For the first time that day, his smile softened into something almost gentle.

Hiro-kun rushed into the crowd and front as he heard what was happening here.

Hiro-kun was now used to Arata’s antics as he dragged him away from the serious confrontation.

Arata pointed two fingers at his eyes and back to Ryoken’s as he whispered, “I’m watching ya.” before getting dragged out by Hiro-kun.

The whole classroom was a mess. The arrogant students supportive of Ryoken’s behaviour were irritated, whilst Ryoken’s face softened in contemplation of his actions as Miyu-chan backed away, scared of him.

“Quite a scene, don’t ya think?” a sharp voice drawled.

Fuyumi Kujo, who had been silently watching everything, flinched and turned.

“Who even are you?” she asked.

“Just someone who can’t stand Arata’s guts,” the girl said, eyes narrowed.

“That fake hero act of his? Pathetic. Ryoken’s little performance was staged, and everyone knows it. The council does too.” She smirked.

“Arata has tamed Ryoken-kun, and even the oh‑so-perfect student president is meeting with him in the council room lately.”

Kujo-san murmured to herself, “Just what is he onto?”

“I’m Doumeki Setsuna. Nice to meet you Kujo-san.” she introduced herself.

"You're the one that won the badminton nationals last year werent you, Setsuna-san?" Kujo-san replied.

"Of course, and I plan on winning again this year," Setsuna-san added arrogantly.

"She's a headache to speak to..." thought Fuyumi Kujo.