Ichiro reached class 1-F, spotting two figures near the class entrance.

A red-haired and decent-looking boy of similar height as him and a girl with huge glasses, a little bit shorter but still above his shoulders. Her hair was blue and single-braided. They stood side-by-side, talking to each other, and were about to leave the class before he came.

“Good morning.” Ichiro bowed.

"Good morning," they replied in unison, returning the gesture.

"Excuse me, is this class 1-F?" Ichiro inquired, making sure.

"It is," the boy nodded.

Ichiro peered inside the classroom. It was a large, spacious room with rows of chairs and tables forming a semicircle. Locker cabinets were clustered behind the seating area, facing a podium at the front of the class. A giant whiteboard and projector screen stood behind the podium, but strangely, there were no other students present.

"Are you also in 1-F?" the boy asked, drawing Ichiro's attention away.

"Yes, I am.”

“Welcome! I’m also a 1-F student!” He suddenly extended his hand. “I’m Masato Kajiyama. I prefer to be called Masato if you don’t mind. Nice to meet you.”

Ichiro shook it, feeling a twitch in his brows at the mention of "Kajiyama."

"I'm Ichiro Matsuda. Likewise, you can call me Ichiro. Nice to meet you, too."

As he observed Masato, the braided girl bowed to her. “I'm Kanako Yonemoto. Like Masato, you can call me by my first name. Nice to meet you as well.”

“Thanks,” Ichiro replied to her bow. His sights went back to Masato again. "Forgive me if it's rude, Masato, but does your family have anything to do with that Kajiyama Corp?"

“Yes, he is...” Kanako began to say.

“K-Kanako!” Masato interrupted, flustered.

"...He's the son of the CEO himself," she finished, disregarding Masato's protest.

Ichiro narrowed his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

Ichiro then looked at Masato, who had already melted to the floor, thanks to Kanako’s revelation. His demeanor pointed out that he was anything but a person who came from a wealthy background – supposedly.

“...That’s quite surprising,” Ichiro commented.

Kajiyama Corp was a company known for mining and producing quality veylon crystals that power many electronics and vehicles worldwide – like Aunt Kaori’s sedan.

“He’s always like this, being humble and trying to hide his background from people because he can’t handle the attention,” Kanako explained as she adjusted her glasses. “He still hasn’t learned his lesson from middle school.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“What do you mean?”

“Like you, almost everyone instantly pointed him out as soon as he introduced himself. Yet, he never stops his futile efforts.”

“To be fair, if you didn’t say anything before, I might not know it,” Ichiro argued.

“Doesn’t matter. Sooner or later, people will know it eventually,” Kanako said firmly as she crossed his arms. “This guy has to deal with it.”

“...I refuse.” Masato retorted with a shaky voice, still melted to the ground. “...I haven’t given up to enjoy… a peaceful youth life…”

“You can find your peace if you embrace reality.”

“...Never.”

Comparing Masato's humble demeanor to his wealthy background, Ichiro wryly smiled. He then interjected, “Are you guys relatives? How did you know about Masato in middle school?”

“My parents have worked under Masato’s parents and were best friends for a long time,” Kanako explained. “Practically, we’re like families but from different blood. We grew up together and have been in the same school since kindergarten.”

“I see, but why did the scion of a conglomerate family enroll in a magic school?”

Masato slowly stood up again. He suddenly looked vigorous. “...Because I can do magic, albeit a little.”

He then opened his palm towards the air, and almost instantly, a small fireball appeared before it dissipated as he closed his fingers back. The level of mana and magic was weak but did not take Ichiro's astonishment.

“I thought the Kajiyama family were a non-magician clan?”

Masato scratched his head. “Not many people know, but my great-grandmother from my mother’s side was a magician. She wasn’t a particularly talented magician, though, and I just happen to inherit her genes.”

While everyone possessed some innate magical abilities, only a select few were considered true "magicians"—individuals who excelled at manipulating the elements and wielding powerful magic. These magicians often rose to prominence in society.

Some people could only control the flow of mana within their own bodies, without the ability to conjure or manipulate elemental magic like Ichiro's wind or Masato's fire. These individuals were formally known as "non-magicians" or "non-wielders."

The advancement of science and technology had opened new opportunities for those with limited magical abilities but the intelligence or resources to make progress. The Kajiyama clan, for example, leveraged their wealth and influence to increase their standing in society, despite their relatively modest magical talents.

"Even then, why a magic school and not a humanist one?" Ichiro questioned.

“The thought of me being the first from the family to graduate from a magic school in recent times excites them. My great-grandmother never had a formal education.” Masato explained. “They think the prestige will be useful for me and my family in the future.”

“I see.” Ichiro fell into silence for a moment before glancing at Kanako. “How about her?”

“She’s quite different,” Masato said. “She was pretty good at magic. I bet she is likely to be our class rep. No bias, by the way.”

“So, her parents are magicians as well?” Ichiro continued.

“Not quite,” Kanako explained to herself. “My father is, but my mother is a non-wielder.”

“Mixed-lineage?” Ichiro asked.

“That’s right.”

"Kanako inherited her father's affinity for magic," Masato explained, "and she's remarkably talented. I've seen her pull off some incredible spells."

Kanako adjusted her glasses once more. "I just have a knack for it, that’s all. I’m not special. If I were that good, I’d be in Jade Class already."

Ichiro wryly smiled at such familiar words.

"Trust me, she's being modest," Masato chimed in. "You should see her in action during classes. Isn’t that right, Class Prez?"

“Shut up, Masato.”

“Aww. You’re blushing! OUCH!”

Masato yelped as Kanako pinched his side.

“Stop it, Kanako! It hurts!”

“I don’t care!”

“S-STOP IT!”

Ichiro left the quarreling duo to their business as his sights wandered again towards the classroom. He then realized what he meant to ask from the beginning.

“Forgot to ask this, but where are the others?”

“A-a teacher already hauled them to the hall. We just arrived here when that happened, still with our bags,” Masato answered, still reeling from the pain.

“Why the hurry?”

“W-who knows? Just gotta obey the teacher, don't we?”

Kanako interjected, “She might come again, so we might as well go now.”

“Wait for me,” Ichiro said.

With that, he strode toward the lockers. He scanned the rows, eyes flickering over the neatly tagged doors, until he found his own. Placing his palm on the locker door, a soft click sound appeared. He opened the unlocked locker and stowed his bag inside before rejoining Masato and Kanako, eager to catch up before the opening ceremony began.