I know this is a bit sudden, but I’d like to ask a question.

What do you know about Shounen Manga?

Have you seen it in passing?

Have you grown up with it?

Or maybe you have a friend or family member that’s really into it and is always shoving the new hot thing in your face.

I’d say I like them well enough.

I think I was about five when I saw a boy with a rubber body break out of a wooden barrel at sea.

I was seven when I saw a man power up by going blonde after his best friend died.

And when I was nine, I started reading a story about a dull middle schooler who was being raised to become the head of the strongest mafia family in Italy.

They were interesting stories with fun main characters who, no matter the odds, fought on and were rewarded for their strength, stubbornness, and trust in their friends.

These three traits are the essence of shounen manga protagonists.

And unfortunately, Aya Ikeda fit that description to a ‘T’.

Strong to an obscene degree, stubborn as mule, and, if what my dad always told me was true, steadfastly loyal to anyone she considered a friend.

And in the end, it all created a woman who I couldn’t stand.

A woman who, when I was five-

“Mom, I’m hungry. Can I eat dinner now?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

“May I eat dinner now?”

“Well, of course you may… if you can land a hit on me.”

“Moooom.”

-forced me to train with her for hours on end every weekend and would withhold food from me until I completed an almost impossible task.

A woman who, when I was seven-

“Don’t run away. It’s just a bluff charge, honey!”

“It’s a bear, Mom!”

“It’s just a cub, sweetheart!”

-told me we were going camping and then trapped me in a steep pit with a bear cub for half a day.

And a woman who, when I was nine-

“Stop crying, baby.”

“I wanna go home!”

“I know, I know. But you really didn’t do that bad.”

“It exploded! Why did it explode?!”

“I don’t know, hon.”

-put me behind the wheel of a car, which I then proceeded to crash into the large window of an empty burger place.

Not long after that, my dad and I moved away from Konmachi and I hadn’t heard anything from my mother in the six years that passed after that.

Unfortunately, at age fifteen, in the office of the headmaster of the school that I was attempting to transfer out of, there she sat.

Aya Ikeda in the flesh.

Same short blue hair with the infernal cowlick that I’ve been cursed with.

Same blue eyes that shone with a light of devilry.

Same stupid grin that I learned at a young age meant that nothing good would come my way in the next few moments.

It felt like a bad dream.

Like I’d wake up back in my apartment in a cold sweat, drool trailing down my cheek.

Sadly, no matter how hard I bit the inside of my cheek or dug my nails into my palms, I didn’t wake up.

And she just kept on grinning.

“Honestly, it’s hard to believe that you’re standing here right now. That uniform looks really good too.”

I didn’t respond.

The knots in my stomach remained tightly tied, like shibari for my intestines.

“To tell you the truth, when Edie out there told me that someone was impersonating me on the phone last month, I didn’t expect to connect to the line and hear my darling boy on the other end. And really, it was a good impression if not for the voice being a bit too high.”

Get to your point.

I always hated when she did this.

Instead of getting to the point when I did something wrong, she had to break it down line-by-line and condescend to me.

Aya Ikeda was a great many things, patronizing being at the forefront of them all.

“That said, I was so excited to hear that you were interested in enrolling that I barely even thought about what transferring you two months into the semester would be like for you.”

Her smile looked almost sheepish for a devil woman.

“Unfortunately, looking at your most recent grades from your former school and your transcripts from Junior High, I can’t say that many other schools in Konmachi would be willing to take you in if you were to leave.”

“What?!” I couldn’t help the bit of offense that creeped into my voice, “My grades aren’t that-”

“Aren’t that bad, I know. But they aren’t all that good either.” The blue-haired monster behind shrugged her shoulders, “ If your grades were terrible, most schools would take you in so they could ‘fix’ you, reap the benefits of saving a possibly troubled youth from delinquency or NEEThood. Stuff like that’s always good for government funding.”

Should I be hearing this?

“If your grades were good, it’d be a no-brainer. You’d bring up the class average, maybe help other kids who fall behind for a bit of extra credit. Then you’d be even better for a student council position, have them parade you around for the next group of prospectives while they dangle college recommendations in front of your face.”

I’m probably not supposed to be hearing this.

It felt wrong.

Sorta like seeing backstage at a concert and finding out that the entire band you were just cheering for had been pretending to play while a prerecorded track played in the background.

In less than five minutes, I had been made to dread the idea of adulthood.

Though the phantom of my childhood’s past certainly wasn’t done there.

“And so, looking at these factors, it’s been decided by yours truly that you’ll attend the next three years here at Aotoya, on a special merit scholarship.”

At this, she flashed me a big toothy grin, a simple action that sent my fight-or-flight system into overdrive.

“But I don’t-”

“You see, this is a school that prides itself on meritocracy amongst the student body. Now whether that merit is shown through academics or athletics, we don’t really care.”

She waved a hand as if to illustrate her indifference.

Aya Ikeda, people: the spitting image of child wonder.

“But, as I said before, your scholarship is special. Your uniform, books, and tuition are all covered. You’ll be expected to keep your grades above failing, of course, but that’s not the worth we expect you to bring to the table.”

Okay, rude.

“Then what do you-?”

“Expect of you? I’m glad you asked.”

“Please stop cutting me off.”

“If you weren’t so predictable, I wouldn’t feel the need to.”

I hate you.

That was a thought I kept to myself, of course, as the woman who called herself my mother pulled out a smartphone and began to fiddle with it.

Pi! Pi! Pi!

Moments later, my phone sounded in my pocket.

I looked at the devil woman behind the desk, who simply smiled a bit wider.

“Check it.”

To be honest, I really didn’t want to.

But, I was pretty sure that something even worse would happen if I did.

I didn’t know what ‘something even worse’ entailed, but I wasn’t gonna take any chances.

So I pulled out my phone and opened up the notification that popped up on my Lock Screen.

Champion Sound

You have completed 1 Bout.

Grading: WIN

“‘Champion Sound’?”

“Our merit tracking app, it installed itself onto your phone the minute you received your ID. Scroll.”

I obliged.

Current Merit Status: Below Average

Bout Types Completed: Scuffles (1)

Number of Bouts Required For Satsisfactory Status: 3

Recommended Bout Types For Current Merit Level:

Scuffles, Throwdowns, Skirmishes

What the hell is any of this?

“All of that is what’ll keep you here. At the end of every month, you’ll be assessed. If your merit is ‘satisfactory’ or above, your scholarship continues as is, you get to stay and attend classes as you are. If not-“

“I get kicked out?”

Turnabout was fair play, right?

What she was about to say was obvious enough.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Honestly, seems like a win. I was here to withdraw anyway.

If I didn’t show results, I’d get kicked out and… well, I figured I’d figure that out afterwards.

Unfortunately-

“You really shouldn’t cut people off, son. Especially when you don’t know what they’re going to say.”

-I was met with yet another condescending smile.

“Tsk.”

“Now, as I was saying… If your merit is below ‘satisfactory’, you’ll be put on probationary status. The teachers will have you under close watch and, during your lunch periods, you’ll be spending some time here with Edie and I.”

Good God…

And then, the woman rose from her chair and slowly stalked around the wooden barrier between us.

Step!

Step!

Step!

It reminded me of a nature documentary that I’d watched with my dad when I was younger.

It was about big cats, the most notable of them being the Tiger.

Step!

Step!

Native to Asia, weighing up to 308 kg, and with a bite force of 1,050 PSI, it was the scariest predator in that documentary to me.

All because-

“And if you should go a full month on probation without rising back up to ‘satisfactory’, you’ll be taken out of regular courses and put on a special mentorship program…”

-it was the closest.

Step!

Her steps came to a stop directly in front of me as she laid a hand on my shoulder, and my skin crawled.

Her words, spoken with a smile like all the others, came out in a purr, “…with me.”

To me, she might as well have been baring her teeth to snarl.

Any snark I might’ve had to retort was caught in my throat, like a mass of phlegm in the midst of a bad cold.

The big cat in front of me seemed to know this and just kept talking, leaning closer to whisper in my ear while a bead of sweat trailed down the back of my neck.

“Nod your head if you understand.”

Stiffly, as if my head creaked upon a rusty hinge, I complied.

“Now, we’ve spent enough time here. I want you to remember everything I’ve told you today and I want you to unblock my number. Right now.”

“I- I-”

“You’re- you’re- gonna do what I say. I’m your guardian, I need a way to get in contact with you that isn’t through the school and I feel like kids nowadays don’t keep up with their email as much as they should. Now, Unblock. The Number.”

“…”

I didn’t have a retort.

I hated it.

The whole situation.

The fact that no matter what I did, this woman would always be two steps ahead.

But no matter how much I hated it, I didn’t doubt for a second that she’d find some way to make me comply.

So I picked the path of least resistance.

With a swipe and a few clicks, my phone was unlocked.

With a single tap, my contacts were open.

I only had two.

But I didn’t unblock the number that called the night before.

No, instead, “You do it.”

I picked the path of least resistance.

And I watched her face light up.

That was the key to dealing with Aya Ikeda.

Man, to think that the first day was only half over and it was already the second worst day of my life, so far.

But the big cat looked like she caught a canary as her fingers tapped speedily against the keys on my screen.

She was fast, but I already knew that.

So, when her fingers stopped and my phone just… disappeared, I didn’t even flinch.

I felt the weight in my pocket just a moment later.

And with that… the contract with the devil is sealed.

And the devil herself seemed pleased as punch.

Clap!

“Now, our time’s just about up and I have to get back to work.”

Right, yes, she was still the head of this administration.

“Afternoon classes are about to start, but you don’t have to worry about that today. I’ve assigned one of our most trusted first years as a guide to you.”

“Why not a third or second ye-?”

“She’ll be showing you around the campus, letting you know what’s what, and answering any questions you have.”

“Hasn’t she only been here for two months more than me? Why is she-?”

“Anywho, she should be showing up right about-”

Knock! Knock!

She turned her head to the door, calling, “He’ll be out in a second.”

Then she turned back to me.

“Now. Two things before you go. One on-record as your Headmaster, the other off-the-record as your mom.”

Text it to me. Then I don’t have to hear your voice.

“Alright.”

Path of least resistance.

“Ahem. First, as your Headmaster: I’d like to wish you a fine career here at our school. We have high hopes for you here.”

You’ve just spent the past ten minutes telling me how trash I am, but alright.

“And second, as your mother: Love you~”

How strange, she said she had something else to say, but I didn’t hear a thing.

“Now get out of here.”

“Gladly, ma’am.”

I don’t think I ever moved as fast in my life as I did to reach that door.

I guess I just figured that literally anyone standing outside that door would be better than my present company.

So when I opened the door-

Slide!

“Yo. Ready to go?”

-I didn’t expect to be greeted by the tanned truant from earlier.

However-

“Yeah, sure. Where to?”

-I certainly wasn’t going to spurn her.

***

“Over there’s the Nurse’s Office, she’s here from Monday to Wednesday so if you get hurt, make sure it’s on those days and that it’s an interesting injury. She’ll leave you waiting for thirty minutes if it’s not.”

“It’s probably a stupid question to ask in this school, but is that allowed?”

“She has tenure.”

“Ah.”

Walking with my new guide was turning out to be the least stressful part of my day so far.

We had been through the first floor, the second, and were taking a break near a stairwell to the third floor.

Compared to pretty much everyone else that I’d spoken more than two words to at Aotoya (Mr. Li, Ms. Day, and my unnamed new best pal in Class 1-5 excluded) she was calm, cool, and collected every time she spoke and when she spoke, it was with a vibe that seemed kinda familiar.

She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t talk down to me, or try to fight me… honestly, if it wasn’t for the display in the classroom earlier(which I was pretty close to just ignoring), I might’ve fallen head-over-heels for her then and there.

But, I am a man of sense.

I can think with the head on my shoulders.

“Oh right, almost forgot to mention, don’t expect to see many of our upperclassmen here during the week. The school’s pretty big on self-driven study and individualism, especially in third year, so don’t be surprised if there are some unfamiliar faces around campus once a week.”

But, dear god, if she keeps talking like that, I’m gonna become a man of culture.

We keep those thoughts to ourselves though, children. So shhh.

“Okay, where to next?”

“Well, next-”

Ding-Dong, Bing-Bong

She was cut off by the ringing of a school bell.

“Ah, actually, why don’t we call it here today? I’ve got some errands to run before I head home, so what say we meet here early tomorrow and I’ll show you around the East Side?”

She seemed almost bashful as she spoke, but still… cool, somehow.

You know what? Maybe I misunderstood what I saw this morning. Things happen.

They really do, which is why-

“Yeah, sure. Uh, where do you wanna meet up? The classroom or…?”

“How about the station? I shouldn’t be as as late as I was-”

“Hey, Inoue! There you are!”

-I should’ve expected the peach-haired chump that beared down upon us as soon as he saw us through the crowd of people that filed into the hallway from the upstairs classrooms.

Wait, no, Dad told you about that. Stop it.

I have this bad habit of thinking a bit negatively about people upon first impressions.

I very rarely say the things I think out loud, but people seem to catch on easily enough.

So maybe the fellow wasn’t a chump, perhaps he was actually a really nice, if overly enthusiastic, person.

Dad always told me to think positively about these things, so I had to try.

Though-

“Why are you backing away?”

“No particular reason.”

-my guide’s attempt at a slow and subtle escape in a crowd that was composed mostly of people shorter than her did not fill me with confidence.

I think that I lost even more confidence the second the guy reached us and…

Crap, I didn’t ask her name… Uhhh… Inoue, that’s what the guy called her.

Inoue seemed to tense up immediately.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible if you weren’t looking for it, but I was.

And it was the first visible discomfort I’d seen from her in the whole time we’d been talking.

So of course, my impression of Mr. Peach was in the gutter before he even said a word to me.

And then he opened his mouth.

“Inoue, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all day, but you didn’t show up before homeroom and nobody knew where you were!”

And he was loud.

In a way, not unlike a child who didn’t know any better.

And Inoue, “Right, yeah. Mhm.”

She wasn’t having it.

It was clear that her latest impression of Mr. Peach was just as good as my first.

Clear to everyone but Mr. Peach, seemingly.

“I wanted to ask you-“

“No.”

Uncharacteristically sharp.

From what I knew I’d been exposed to, of course.

“Please give it some more-”

“No.”

“But-”

“Not happening.”

“Please-!”

“I said no, Fujiwara.”

I began to feel like I was witnessing something that I shouldn’t have been.

“Inoue, I challenge-!”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll fold you like the sticky part of an envelope.”

“Hurck!”

Snrrk!

Never mind, it was more of a comedy sketch at that point.

I couldn’t help the little snort that left me.

Unfortunately that seemed to alert Mr. Peach- Fujiwara- to my presence.

Seeing his eyes snap directly to me was frightening in a way.

“Who might you be?”

His eyes were a shocking shade of pink.

And I got a real good look at them as he got right in my face.

And I mean, right in my face. Personal space be damned, I suppose.

And he just kept talking at the same volume and the same informality that he’d been using with Inoue.

“You must be new. I don’t recognize you. I didn’t see you during lunch either. Let me guess, you’re the new transfer that everyone’s talking about?”

He was really deep in my bubble.

“Uhhh.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond because he just kept talking.

“To think you’d get into a fight on the first day of school. And not only that, but you defeated someone like Yamaguchi as well. In two strikes, even! Quite impressive! So with all that said, I feel as though I'd be remiss not to ask, how would you like to join the Ju-?”

Nudge!

I felt a hand push me back gently as a taller figure stood in front of me.

“Fujiwara, no.”

Inoue’s voice was as cool as ever, but there was a bit of an edge to it.

And Fujiwara, for the first time in the conversation, looked cross with her.

“Inoue, I can hardly understand why you keep refusing to join, but you have to understand that it’s far past unreasonable to block other people from joining my club.”

“Club?”

“Ignore it, Aoi. It’s not something you’d be interested in.”

Okay, getting oddly familiar for having just met me today.

Though, I could help this strange feeling that tugged at me from my chest.

One that kept telling me that this situation was oddly familiar.

For just a moment, Inoue wasn’t the one standing in front of me.

No, it was a small girl with short brown hair and fair skin, covered in dirt and dust and scratches.

She held an arm out in front of me, her little feet dug in to the dirt, even if her little legs trembled.

“Aoi said no!”

I blinked and that little girl was gone, Inoue having taken her place again.

The heck was that?

And in the time that I’d ended up flashing back, the argument in front of me had gotten more heated… on Fujiwara’s end at least.

“You’re being incredibly unaccommodating today!”

“You haven’t been flung from a window yet, so I’d say I’m being way nicer to you than I should be.”

“Why are you so defensive of him?!”

“Because he’s new and he’s my friend, and I find you generally offensive to the senses.”

I could see Fujiwara physically recoil from the verbal blow that he was dealt.

Damn, that’s a crit.

The hit clearly rocked the peach haired boy, but he still had enough strength to turn to me, even as Inoue tried to block him off.

“Y-yeah, well, I challenge-”

He was cut off again, by me this time.

“No thanks.”

“Huh?”

“You were gonna challenge me to a Bout, right? No thanks.”

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna fight you.”

“Hah?!”

Is that really shocking?

Inoue took this as a chance to grab my shoulders and start walking me away from this situation.

“Well, you heard him, Fujiwara. He’s outta here, don’t talk to him again after-”

It feels like most conversations in this school involve people interrupting each other.

“Aoi Ikeda, The Judo Club challenges you to a wagered throwdown!”

Pi! Pi! Pi!

Inoue gripped my shoulders harder.

“Darn it…” I heard her hiss.

Oh, that’s probably bad.