A few days later, during the lunch break on a Friday right before a holiday, the classroom of Class 2-A was filled with noise and commotion.

"—One hundred million just this week, isn't that amazing?"

"—No, it's beyond amazing..."

"—But seriously, isn't it the video site that's crazy for handling that many views at once?"

"—Yeah, the site's impressive too, but what's truly amazing right now is the video itself."

"—Stuff like this actually happens, huh?"

The classmates gathered in the classroom were all staring intently at their devices.

Displayed on their screens was a video posted on a major video-sharing site. Just a few days ago, it was the same video that became a hot topic topic because Takeuchi-kun had performed breakdancing in it.

Initially, the number of views barely reached three digits. When Kousuke Tokumoto—Class 2-A's most notorious masochist—first checked the video, it hadn't even hit a hundred views. But somehow, it seemed to have gained views over time.

"—Takeuchi-kun, this is practically your dancer debut!"

"—Isn't this wild? It's probably not just Japan, right?"

"—There are tons of comments in English and other languages I don't even understand."

"—Whoa, you're right!"

"—Ugh, I can't read any of this."

The lively atmosphere was reminiscent of the day before the cultural festival, buzzing with preparations.

And, as usual, at the center of it all was him.

"No, the one dancing in the middle is Kousaka from first year. I was just dancing in the corner."

The handsome guy never thought that participating in a single dance event would have such lasting repercussions. What's more, considering the view count, Takeuchi-kun, who is quick to grasp public trends, understood that the situation was now unavoidable.

He couldn't help but think, 'Isn't this getting a bit out of hand...?'

If Takeuchi-kun hadn't been dressed in women's clothing, it wouldn't have been a problem. In fact, for someone dreaming of entering the entertainment industry, this could've been the ultimate surprise opportunity. He would have embraced it wholeheartedly. A handsome high school breakdancer—it had a pretty nice ring to it.

However, the person on screen was completely slotted into the comedy category.

He was exposed in full visual kei-style cross-dressing, trembling backstage alongside Nishino. To make things worse, throughout the video, he was kicked around by Rose and Gabriella, looking utterly pitiful. It was far from the ideal image he had hoped for.

And yet, that very video garnered over a hundred million views in just a few days. He somehow managed to feign composure and respond lightheartedly to his classmates' comments. Yet deep down, he felt like an office lady whose homemade sex tape had just been leaked as revenge porn.

On the other hand, the futsumen was secretly basking in a sense of fulfillment.

"........."

Sitting at his desk, he quietly stared at the device in his hand.

On the screen, the problematic video was playing repeatedly on it.

"...Not a bad performance at all."

Apparently pleased with how his dancing had turned out, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the footage. He hadn't practiced for days on end just for show. Now that the results were out and his efforts were being recognized, he appeared genuinely pleased.

Scattered among the comments were a few remarks about his dancing.

『He looks like a beginner, but he's giving it his all.』

『His moves are pretty sharp.』

『He seems oddly comfortable dancing in drag... Maybe that's his thing?』

『Actually, skirts might just be the perfect costume for B-boys.』

『Not gonna lie... Would smash.』

...and so on.

"Oi, Takeuchi and Nishino, can I have a word?"

Just then, the homeroom teacher entered the classroom.

It was Otake-sensei, the teacher in charge of Class 2-A.

Lately, unable to bear his thinning hair, he had been considering a self-funded hair transplant.

With over a decade of service under his belt, he's saved up a decent amount, so his wallet's got some room to breathe. The cost of 1,500 grafts was around one million yen.

In recent years, having long missed his chance to marry, the middle-aged man harbored a faint hope that if his hair situation improved, he might even attract some of the female students. Such were the faint hopes of this middle-aged man, leading him to consider investing in his lonely scalp.

"Eh? Me?"

"What is it, Otake-sensei?"

In contrast to their balding teacher, the two boys who answered were blessed with thick, full hair.

Not a trace of scalp could be seen between any strands.

"Come with me to the staff room for a bit."

On Takeuchi-kun's desk, there was a barely touched bento box, probably purchased from a nearby convenience store. Without paying any attention to this, Otake-sensei called them out unilaterally. He was becoming less and less tolerant towards his students with full heads of hair.

The futsumen and the ikemen were unexpectedly summoned to the staff room.

* * *

After moving through the building and walking down the hallway for a while, Nishino and Takeuchi-kun arrived at the staff room.

Compared to the other classrooms, this room was somewhat more spacious. The two of them headed straight to the front of Otake-sensei's desk, which was set up in a more secluded area. Standing face-to-face with the teacher seated at his desk, the conversation began.

"Eh!? An assault incident?"

The one who raised his voice was Takeuchi-kun.

"Yeah, that's right. Apparently, a member of the YouTube club who published your dance video got into an argument with another member over receiving ad revenue—something called 'AdSense,' was it? They ended up fighting with a knife in the clubroom and were caught by the club's advisor."

As soon as they arrived, Otake-sensei immediately explained the reason he had called them in.

The topic that came up was related to what had just stirred excitement among the students in Class 2-A. However, this time, it was presented from a much more serious angle—revealing a more troubling situation within the school.

"I'm not too familiar with the details, but according to what I heard from the club members, it seems like tens of millions of yen are involved. You two—have you heard anything about this? The school normally doesn't interfere with off-campus activities, but if it starts causing trouble within the school, we can't just ignore it."

"No way... seriously?"

Even the ever-composed heartthrob hadn't anticipated this.

He had figured some money was involved, sure. But he never imagined it would escalate into a fight between students right on school grounds. He had expected some sort of approach from the video's uploader, but being called out from an unexpected angle completely caught him off guard.

"Um... has this been reported to the police...?"

"Don't be stupid. Doing that would get everyone into serious trouble."

"......"

"You might not know this because you're still minors, but for crimes like theft or embezzlement, once the amount involved exceeds a million yen, even first-time offenders might not get probation. They could go straight to prison. Got it? Jail time. That means someone from your own school could end up in a juvenile detention center."

Otake-sensei is a teacher who has deeply rooted himself in the school. He is fully committed to working there until retirement and has no intention of stepping down, even if asked. As such, the school's reputation is of great importance to him, as it directly affects his income. He absolutely had to avoid any situation that might lead to an external audit.

To maintain favorable evaluations from the vice principal and principal, this was a non-negotiable matter. Since he also serves as the grade level head, any police involvement related to students in his year could impact his chances of promotion. In some cases, it could even result in demotion.

Only those with exceptional skills, those born into wealth, or those who have given up on everything can afford to live purely and righteously while disregarding income. Otake-sensei, at the very least, does not fall into any of those categories.

"I heard that filming at the venue wasn't restricted, but did any of you give permission for the dance video to be published? The person who uploaded it online claimed it wasn't part of a club activity, but merely a personal hobby."

"No, we only found out about the video after it had already been posted."

"So in other words, it was filmed without permission."

'I see.' Otake-sensei said, nodding with his arms crossed, seemingly understanding the situation.

"I don't really want to say this kind of thing, but don't do anything that might damage the school's reputation, okay? I heard you participated using the school's name. And you even involved Gabriella-san, who just recently transferred here..."

Having said what needed to be said and asked what he wanted to know, a lecture naturally began to spill from the teacher's mouth. Put negatively, it might seem like nagging; put positively, it was a talk full of messages. Lately, this impression had become particularly strong, earning him that reputation among students across all grades.

It was during such a moment that something happened.

With a loud bang, the staff room door burst open. Instinctively, the teachers present turned their gazes toward the entrance. The door was at the back of the room. Naturally, Nishino, Takeuchi-kun, and even Otake-sensei also looked in that direction.

Standing there—was a female student, covered in blood.

She appeared to have cut her face, with blood streaming steadily down her right cheek. It wasn't gushing, but it certainly wasn't stopping either. The chest area of her uniform was stained red from the dripping blood.

"GIVE IT BACK!! IT'S MY LAPTOP, SO HURRY UP AND GIVE IT BACK!!"

Her desperate voice echoed throughout the staff room.

Her expression was filled with rage. Ignoring her injuries, she strode forcefully into the room. It seemed she was indeed searching for her laptop. She came to a sudden stop and scanned the area, her gaze darting across every corner of the space.

Eventually, it appeared she had found what she was looking for, and she hurried toward it. A nearby teacher moved to intercept her, but she quickly dodged and picked up speed.

Her eyes were fixed on an unidentified teacher's desk.

On top of it sat a clamshell-style laptop, lavishly decorated with cute stickers—meticulously adorned to look pretty. However, smears of blood clung to its edges, giving the whole thing a rather grotesque appearance.

She snatched it up, clutched it tightly to her chest, and sprinted toward the exit.

And in that moment, her eyes met Takeuchi-kun's.

"!"

It seemed she hadn't noticed his presence until just now.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

But that moment of shock lasted only a second.

"I'm the one who filmed that video! I-It's my video!"

She raised her voice, letting her claim echo through the staff room.

Then, without missing a beat, she took off running—dodging the teacher who had moved toward her and leaving the staff room behind.

"Hey, wait!" someone called. Despite the voices calling after her, she paid them no mind, and the frantic patter of her footsteps quickly faded into the distance, eventually disappearing completely.

Among everyone who witnessed the commotion, the most surprised was Takeuchi-kun.

Never in his life had a girl treated him with such sharp hostility.

Even the full power of his good looks—usually more than enough to charm anyone—seemed to crumble in the face of a few tens of millions of yen.

"Otake-sensei, is that girl the club member in question?"

Nishino asked in his usual blunt tone.

As always, there was no sign of improvement in his attitude.

"Ah, y-yeah, that's right..."

"Those injuries will leave scars. Someone should take her to a doctor soon."

"......"

Why is this kid always so full of himself?

Otake-sensei was so stunned by the whole incident that he didn't even have the energy to scold him.

* * *

After a series of events, the after-school period arrived on the same day.

Right after homeroom, Nishino headed to the classroom used by the Breakdance Club, with Takeuchi-kun in tow. As they stepped inside, they found Kousaka, the club president, along with Rose and Gabriella already there.

"Sorry we're late."

"Yeah, sorry for the delay. Otake's lecture went on way too long."

With their arrival, all of the club's members were now assembled.

The reason they had gathered was due to a message Kousaka had sent to everyone's phones—a summons asking them to meet in the clubroom after school. The message had been sent around the end of lunch break. Incidentally, for Nishino, this marked the second time he had exchanged contact info with someone at school—Rose being the first.

Following that, through club activities, he had obtained more contacts: Gabriella was the third, and Takeuchi-kun the fourth. Perhaps feeling a quiet sense of pride, Nishino found a bit of fulfillment as his phone's address book gradually became livelier.

"No, I should be the one apologizing for calling you senpais out so suddenly."

"Anyway, to get straight to the point—it's about that video, right?"

As soon as they arrived, Takeuchi-kun took the initiative.

Given how unpleasant the whole situation was for him, it was clear he wanted to maintain control. If possible, he hoped the video would be deleted immediately—all because of that damn cross-dressing. A handsome guy's self-inflicted misfortune.

For the record, he had already submitted a takedown request to the video site.

"So, you already knew about it, huh?"

"Well, yeah. It's been such a hot topic."

"I'm really sorry for causing you all trouble..."

"Nah, now's not the time to worry about that. What's done is done, right? No use dwelling on it. Let's just focus on what to do next. It's not like any of us did anything wrong anyway."

"T-Takeuchi-senpai..."

Kousaka's eyes began to sparkle as he gazed at Takeuchi-kun.

And for some reason, there seemed to be a slight bulge beneath his pants.

"I heard the rough details from Otake at lunch today. Something about it turning into a bloody mess, right?"

"Ah, about that... I already reached out. The account that posted the video had an email address listed, so I casually messaged them to ask if they'd consider getting in touch with us."

"I see. Thanks, Kousaka."

"N-No problem... To be honest, that's really all I've managed to do so far."

"I've also sent an email requesting the video to be taken down."

"Really? Thank you so much, Takeuchi-senpai!"

Kousaka responded with a smile.

At that moment, someone spoke up amidst their exchange.

"What? Takeuchi-kun, are you going to delete the video?"

It was Nishino, looking a bit disappointed.

For better or worse, this whole incident had been entertaining for the futsumen. He thought it wouldn't hurt to keep at least one video as a memento. That way, a few years down the line, they could rewatch it during a class reunion and laugh over drinks or something.

Ironically, Nishino was the person who should have been the first to demand the video to be deleted.

"You're not seriously planning to leave it up, are you?"

"...Is that bad?"

"Come on, there was a bloodshed on campus, right? With a knife involved! We can't just ignore that."

"When you put it like that... yeah, I guess it is a problem."

"......"

Rose, while keeping quiet, seemed somewhat uneasy about Nishino's unexpected flip-flop. Still, she didn't appear too concerned either. After all, Nishino had crossdressed when he was on screen, and Adam—the one who did his makeup—had done a great job, so she figured it would probably be fine whether the video remained published or not.

Either way, since Takeuchi-kun insisted, everyone had no choice.

"So, we're all good with getting the video taken down, right?"

Takeuchi-kun summarized the opinions, checking with everyone.

No objections were raised.

Even Nishino, reluctant as he was, wasn't about to go against the rest of the group just to keep the video alive.

"Alright, let's move forward with that plan then."

Satisfied with the consensus, Takeuchi-kun nodded with satisfaction. Getting everyone on the same page must've been a relief. Now, as long as his takedown request was approved, the problematic cross-dressing scandal would blow over as just another fleeting rumor. With that thought, he tried to calm his heart.

After all, life is long—these kinds of embarrassing episodes probably happen to anyone at least once.

"By the way, whatever happened to the idea of turning this circle into an official club?"

With the topic brought up by Takeuchi-kun having settled, Rose spoke up.

Her eyes were fixed, staring directly at Kousaka.

"Ah, w-well, about that... um... I'm sorry."

"I wonder if there's some sort of problem?"

"I submitted the application right after break, and it was accepted. But they said it'll be discussed at the end-of-month meeting, so... there's a chance this recent incident might affect the decision. It seems to have become a topic of conversation in the staff room too."

"...that so."

Upon hearing Kousaka's explanation, both Nishino and Takeuchi-kun seemed to sink into a somewhat gloomy mood. Leaving aside the futsumen, who had been full of enthusiasm from the beginning, the handsome guy—who had shown a fair amount of dedication—didn't seem to harbor any negative feelings toward the club itself.

On the other hand, Rose saw this as a perfect opportunity to shift the mood entirely.

"In that case, this club is in a precarious position, isn't it...?"

She said with a serious expression, acting as if she were deeply concerned.

But inside, she was laughing mockingly to her heart's content.

"......."

"But it became a good memory, didn't it?"

"Y-Yeah, senpai's right!"

The blonde lolita was determined, even if a bit forcefully, to go and wrap up the breakdancing club.

Meanwhile, beside her, the silver-haired lolita silently nodded in agreement. Her glances kept darting toward the futsumen, probably still bothered by the incident where she had accidentally kicked him on stage. Her desire to distance herself from him was palpable.

She looked like a small animal trembling before a large carnivorous beast.

"Well then, shall we agree to keep quiet for the time being?"

"Yeah, sounds good. We'll keep things quiet until the end-of-the-month meeting."

"Agreed."

"Understood."

"......"

The activity policy for the time being was unanimously decided.

A resolution was reached.

Immediately after, something happened.

Suddenly, Nishino's device started vibrating.

"...Sorry."

Pulling the device out of his pants pocket, he checked the caller ID displayed on the screen. The name that appeared was that of a certain bartender who owned a bar in Roppongi. None other than Marquis.

The moment he confirmed the name, he immediately shoved the device back into his pocket.

"Was that alright?"

"Yeah, just a nuisance call. Don't worry about it."

"......"

Since she was standing right next to him, Rose had also caught a glimpse of the screen. She couldn't help but feel somewhat concerned, thinking it might not be right to just ignore it. However, Nishino himself showed no sign of being bothered in the slightest.

"My bad for cutting off the club activity discussion."

For him right now, the club meeting took precedence over any work-related requests.

Nevertheless, Marquis was persistent today.

The phone vibrated twice, then three times, pausing briefly only to ring again and again. Each time, the device in the futsumen's pocket buzzed, its faint vibrations reaching those around him. The ringtone itself was silent, but even so, it was impossible for the others not to notice.

"Nishino, do something about that already."

A similar scene had played out back when they were preparing for the cultural festival.

The futsumen would even go so far as to set alarms, putting on an elaborate act. At least, that was how Takeuchi-kun saw it. He figured it was just Nishino sulking because his opinion on how to handle the video hadn't gone through.

In the end, it was nothing more than Nishino's own fault for always trying to act so cynical.

"...Yeah, you're right."

Once Takeuchi-kun had called him out, even the futsumen had no choice but to comply.

With a reluctant look, he pulled the device from his pants pocket.

"Sorry, but I need to step out for a bit."

His way of speaking irritated others, as always.

After briefly excusing himself, the futsumen left the classroom. Once he had passed through the door and stepped into the hallway, he operated his device to answer the call. Without missing a beat, a deep, gruff voice belonging to Marquis came through.

『Finally got through, huh?』

"What do you want? I'm busy right now."

His tone was downright rude, laced with obvious irritation.

『Sorry, but I need to talk to you. Come to my place tonight.』

"That's quite sudden."

『Can you make it?』

"I wouldn't mind if you told me now, right here."

『I feel bad asking, but I want to talk face-to-face.』

Marquis's voice carried an unusual seriousness.

Perhaps because of that, this time Nishino complied without a fuss.

"...Fine."

『I appreciate it. I'll be waiting.』

"......"

After confirming the response, he ended the call without saying anything further.

And just like that, the futsumen's after-school plans were unexpectedly set.

* * *

After finishing his club meeting, Nishino headed straight for Roppongi.

Once he left the school, it was only a few minutes on foot to the nearest station. From there, he would transfer between several trains, making the trip to his destination take a few dozen minutes. Perhaps the reason he spent the journey imagining all sorts of possibilities was because summons from Marquis were so rare.

The road he walked on was a narrow street, about three to four meters wide, where the boundary between the sidewalk and roadway was ambiguous. Vehicular traffic wasn't heavy; perhaps just occasional cars belonging to local residents passed by. It was a typical, modest stretch of a school commute route, found anywhere.

It was during this walk that it happened.

With only a few hundred meters left until the station, a motorcycle approached Nishino from behind. It was a mid-sized sportbike. The rider was a man of average build, clad in a full rubber suit and a full-face helmet.

To an onlooker, he likely appeared as just another vehicle passing through.

However, the moment the bike closed to a certain distance behind the futsumen, the rider's movements changed. His right hand left the handlebars and moved towards the tank bag. With a swift motion, he pulled out a rod-shaped object strapped to the side bag.

It was a large knife.

Without losing momentum, the motorcycle bore down on Nishino from the rear. The knife was held level with the ground at a height aimed directly at his neck. The plan was likely to use the vehicle's speed to slash through him in one swift motion.

In a matter of seconds, the blade closed in on Nishino's throat.

"—!"

The moment the edge was about to bite into flesh, a high-pitched clink rang out.

The grunt of pain came from atop the vehicle.

The motorcycle continued on its way as if nothing had happened.

Watching this, Nishino muttered with a shrug and a touch of irony.

"...Not gonna happen. I saw your reflection in the window of the house across the street."

He spoke to no one in particular as he watched the direction the man had vanished.

His reaction seemed incredibly practiced, but that was only because he spent his daily life constantly anticipating such scenarios. Whether that counts as a creepy hobby or a practical skill depends entirely on the time and situation.

At the very least, if Shimizu-san caught him doing this at school, he'd surely be stuck with the label, "Nishino-kun, you're seriously gross." However, having repeated these experiences, it's something one can't easily dismiss these days. In his life, at least, it's a classic chicken-and-egg situation.

"......"

Halting his steps, Nishino casually reached down towards the road.

Lying there was the hilt of the knife, its blade shattered.

The rider had apparently dropped it. He picked it up and inspected it with a bored gaze. The way he stood there—one hand thrust into his trouser pocket with an air of self-importance—was an unconscious habit. It was a pose ingrained in his very bones.

"...Well, not like I'll learn anything from this."

He muttered briefly and tossed the metal hilt aside.

The dry, clattering sound echoed through the otherwise deserted alley.

Resuming his walk, the futsumen's feet headed toward the station with the same steady pace as before. He didn't seem shaken in the slightest. Thinking that everything would become clear once he met Marquis, Nishino set his sights on Roppongi.

* * *

Following the ambush on the school route, the rest of the journey passed without further incident.

The interaction that followed took place at his destination: a bar located in Roppongi. Nishino sat across the counter from Marquis. A "Closed" sign hung on the entrance, and no one else was in sight. Only the two of them occupied the space.

"So, what's this business that was worth summoning me for?"

"Ah, right..."

As usual, the futsumen held a glass in his hand.

At the bottom sat about two or three centimeters of amber liquid.

The dialogue proceeded as he tilted the glass, sipping it bit by bit.

"Do you remember what I told you before?"

Marquis, on his side of the counter, stood without any particular task, speaking in a flat tone. His gaze was fixed directly on Nishino, watching his every move as if he'd even forgotten to blink.

"You've been full of nagging complaints lately. So, which one are you referring to?"

"Regarding that girl you picked up at your last job."

"Ah, right. You warned me back then to stay away from that woman."

"That's right."

Nishino recalled the events of a few days ago.

Just like today, he remembered being called via phone and heading to the shop. The message conveyed then was: No matter what happens to that woman from now on, you must absolutely not get involved.

How did that relate to today's summons?

After thinking for a moment, the answer came quickly.

The sniper attack aimed at Gabriellia's forehead at the breakdancing event. And then, the ambush he'd just faced on the street moments ago. In Nishino's mind, the series of events clicked into a single chain.

"I see. So I drew the short straw, huh."

"That's how it is."

Nishino gave a small nod and tilted his glass.

In the otherwise silent bar, the sound of his throat gulping echoed with strange prominence.

"My life's the only asset I've got. Sorry, but I won't be doing business with you from now on."

"......"

Marquis's words carried a force that allowed no argument.

It was clear he wasn't posturing or joking.

"That drink will be your last one here as well."

"...That's a shame."

In response, the futsumen merely tossed out a casual remark.

Given their relationship—something like landlord and tenant—it wasn't the kind of work where either could force the other. A certain level of trust had always been necessary. And because Marquis had made his refusal clear, Nishino couldn't press the matter any further.

At the same time, he understood why the large man before him had summoned him here.

The words slipped out naturally.

"Give my regards to the guest in the back, too."

"—!"

He spoke casually as he rose from his stool.

There were no other customers in the shop besides him.

It was a shot in the dark, with no real evidence to back it up.

However, the man before him showed a much more visible reaction than he had expected. The way those broad shoulders twitched was striking in the quiet, motionless bar.

Thanks to that, it was easy for Nishino to understand.

Realizing what Marquis was harboring, he decided to make a swift exit.

"Thanks for everything, Marquis."

Staying any longer would lead to a poor outcome for both him and Marquis. Conversely, if he cut ties at this very moment, the cowardly bartender in front of him wouldn't suffer any future disadvantage. That was his reasoning.

"......"

As it turned out, his speculation was correct.

From behind the counter, a gaze filled with unspoken words was directed at him. Yet, the man's mouth never opened again. The presence of someone holed up in the back room, monitoring the floor through security cameras, robbed Marquis of the chance to take that step forward.

"...See ya."

Nishino felt a sense of relief at the man's safety, yet a tinge of sadness as well.

Cling-clang.

The bell attached to the entrance door rang with a light, pleasant sound.