Chapter 1:

Chapter 1: Loner Joins A Club.

My High School Life is not a Romantic Series, It's a Psychological Thriller!


“Kanegawa Hirotaka.”

I hear a female voice mention my name. Though I dismiss it as something that’s purely fabricated by my imagination. It’s dismissal time and the class is empty. I should be home by now, but I’m stuck here doing homework that I forgot to do today.

“Kanegawa Hirotaka.”

Well, it seems that my imagination is very persistent. Though I will not give in, I promised myself that I will finish this homework so that I could return to my warm bed as soon as possible, no matter what.

“Kanegawa Hirotaka!”

“Argh!”

I find myself screaming. My right-hand hurts, as if it had just been stabbed by a pen. My head feels woozy all of the sudden, and my vision isn’t doing any better. Upon lifting my head, I see a silhouette of a person standing next to me.

“Hmph. I called you multiple times, you know? I thought you were dead or something.” a female voice calls out. Evident from the object that she is holding in her hand, I was—in fact—stabbed by a pen.

“And your instinct was to stab me?”

“Consider it your consequence for not waking up.”

“Waking up? But I wasn’t…”

On my table, lay an open book that contains the maths problems that I was supposed to be doing. Though instead of seeing the answers to those maths problems, a pool of drool covers almost half of the page.

“...asleep.”

“You still have drool all over your mouth.”

I immediately wipe my mouth with my hand. It seems that I’m yet again fooled by my hyper-realistic dream. Somehow, it even managed to simulate the absolute boredom that comes from doing math. How my brain is capable of doing that but is incapable of memorizing simple math formulas is beyond me.

“How long was I…”

“Asleep? You were already drooling when I came here ten minutes ago.”

“Oh…”

“I’m assuming these are your glasses. You threw them at me when I was calling your name.”

“Ah… Uhm. Sorry.”

I have developed a habit of throwing objects at people who try to wake me up from my sleep.

Don’t ask me why.

Once I regained my sight, I could properly see the person standing right beside me. She has a pretty tall stature for a girl, though it’s apparent that I’m taller than her. While her cold expression stares deeply into my eyes with disgust, she is admittedly pretty cute. Though her eyes do radiate a hint, no, a ton of sadism. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine her stabbing someone with a pencil. In fact, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine her stabbing someone with a knife.

“Here. The student council sent this to you.”

I grab the envelope and open it. Inside, lay a folded piece of A4 paper. It seems to be a letter of some sort. After I finished reading it, I couldn't help but ask…

“A recommendation to join the deputies?”

“Yep.”

“Your yep implies that this is a normal situation.”

“Seeing how you were sleeping when you were supposed to be doing your homework, I’d assume that it is normal.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m implying that you, Kanegawa Hirotaka, are worthless.”

“Thank you for the assessment. However, I am already self-aware enough to know that I won’t amount to anything in life.”

“I’m glad that you’re up to speed with the situation. I shall leave you to it then,” she says.

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere that’s none of your business.” she says as she walks away. The wind sweeps her skirt as she turns.

“What? I still don’t understand what this letter means.”

“So?” She halts her steps.

“Explain it then!”

“Ah, perhaps I overestimated your intelligence. Could you read the letters printed on this paper right here?”

“Do you think I’m stupid or something?”

“Yes.”

I could feel the blood in my veins boiling.

“Listen here lady, I will not hesitate to smack anyone I find annoying, regardless of age or gender.”

I am truly a warrior of equality.

“Is that a threat I hear?” She says as she walks closer to me.

“Perhaps I should call…”

I’m sensing that she’s going to do something horrible. She puts her hands around her mouth and…

“Teacher! Someone is threatening to assault me!” shouted with all her might.

“Wha-? You ass-”

“Teacher! Oh please come here and save your delicate student!” she shouts, even louder this time.

“Shut up! You’re far from delicate!”

“Apologize.” she replies in her normal voice.

“What?”

“Please! Anyone! Call a teacher!” she continues to shout.

“I’m sorry! Satisfied?”

“That’s not sincere. I am going to continue screaming now. Hel-”

“Listen! I’m sorry, all right?”

“...”

“Help me! Please! Someone!” she continues.

“Hey! Look, I’m really sorry. Truly deeply sorry. I bow to you in humiliation for how sorry I am.”

She turns her sharp gaze towards me.

“Then bow.”

“I did!”

“Didn’t see it.”

“Just because you didn’t see it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

“Perhaps shouting is more efficient. Hel-”

I immediately tilt my body to the front, forming a bowing motion.

“I apologize,” I say with the most sincere tone I could manage.

“There we are. We’re all educated, aren’t we? Why must we use brute force to resolve something?”

What a brilliant actress. I bet she’d make a killing in Hollywood. But she’s here instead, stabbing me with a pen.

“Damn you!” I say under my breath.

“What was that?”
“Nothing. Now, explain what the hell is this stupid club named the deputies and why I’m recommended to it!”
“I can’t answer two questions at once, for I only have one mouth.”

“Are you being annoying just for the sake of it?”

“Your fault for making me wait while looking at your drool-covered face,” she says coldly.

“Fine…first question, why am I recommended to the deputies?”

“Although no one at the top brass told me who recommended you or for what reason. If you have a decently sized brain the answer to it is obvious.”

Is she saying that I have a smaller brain than average?

She pauses. My anticipation and curiosity grow, eager to find out what her answer is.

“You are, basically, useless.”

So much for the anticipation.

“You told me that already!”

“Perhaps, but I think it will be news to you when I mention that this is a way for the school to make use of useless students like you. You, a slug of a person inhabiting a class that’s known for its horrible grades and behaviors, must have no after-school activity, am I correct?”

“Y-yes.”

Does she really need to mention that!?

“Therefore, you are considered to be a student with low participation. It’s only natural that the school decided that it’s time you’re put to good use. So, they decided to throw you into a random club somewhere. Though I am in fact doubtful that a person as hostile and lazy as you could be utilized to good use.”

While I am tempted to enforce my policy of equality, I hold back.

“So, what are the deputies, then?”

“Excellent question.”

“That’s the only question left!”

“I assure you. It’s an extracurricular activity fit for a person like you.”

“How so?”

“Well, it deals with all sorts of cases involving students' misdemeanors. Even though this school is a prestigious one, we unfortunately still have a lot of delinquents running around.”

She looks at me as if signaling that I am one of those delinquents she was referring to.

“Misdemeanors?”

“Cigarette smuggling, vandalism, dishonesty during examinations, or other illegal behaviors such as those.”

Her choice of words is painfully formal.

“Huh. Don’t we have teachers for that already?”

“What’s this? Are you implying that the teachers here are too incompetent to deal with delinquents that the school needs to form a club filled with one to assist them?”

“I never implied that!”

“How sickening of you, mocking our educators like that.”

She pauses. Perhaps waiting for my response. But I stay silent. I find it useless to form a defense. She seems like the type of person that would defy whatever her opponent has to say, even when the statement is simple facts like water is wet.

“It’d be easier if a delinquent captures other delinquents don’t you think?” she says, after an uncomfortable twenty-second long pause.

“After all, it’s a great way for worthless students such as you to redeem yourself. Speaking of which, you should be going to the club room now.”

“But what if I, for example, went home instead. And then, told you that you could stick this letter up your nose?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Yeah, completely hypothetical, just for the sake of argument.”

“Then, I would simply...”

Her hand moves as fast as lightning. I simply could not form any sort of defense. While it only came in contact with my left cheek for a second, the pain felt like it would last for an eternity. It feels like whatever dignity I have left is scraped away, not that I have many in the first place.

“And then, I’d tell you that you would risk your scores being deducted.” she continues.

“How sly.” I say in horror, still agonized by the pain inflicted upon my cheek.

“Afterall, you need to have a whip to make a donkey work.” she replies with a smirk.

メ メ メ

Defeated, I walk towards the hallway and into the designated club room. While I find it unpleasant to be compared to a donkey, what she was saying does have a certain truth to it. A donkey would never work unless his master had a whip. The same can be applied to your humble narrator. A no-good delinquent who slacks in class, that is what I’m most known for. Just ask around. Although I’m sure the majority of people would just scratch their heads in confusion as you mention my name, trying to recall whether or not a Kanegawa Hirotaka exists.

Suffice to say, I am a person with no aim or goals in life. I won’t go out of my way to actually put any effort into anything. Joining an after-school club is far from my intention, especially a stupid and senseless one named the “deputies.” But if the threat that my scores would be deducted is true, which most likely is because the school looks down upon inactive students, then I better play it safe. My scores are low enough as is and I’m barely even passing at this point. So if joining this stupid club is a way to prevent my scores from being lowered, I would gladly choose to attend it.

I think gladly isn’t the right word. But you get my point.

As my motto goes: let’s just get this shit over with. 

Makech
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