On the second day of high school, everything began as usual when Yotsuba Mahiro opened his eyes.
Even if he had rushed all the way from the Yotsuba Research Division to enroll at First High, the Earth's rotation wasn't about to change just for him. What would change, however, was his social life—and that, for Mahiro, was already proving troublesome.
As he did yesterday, he washed his face, straightened his uniform, and stepped out of his dorm. But the moment he opened the door, he blinked in surprise.
A girl was already standing there, her posture perfectly polite, as though she had been waiting for quite a while.
"Mahiro-oniisan, ohayō gozaimasu!"
"Miyuki? …Where's Tatsuya? Don't tell me he left you alone?"
That's right. Unlike yesterday, today Shiba Miyuki stood before him by herself, her brother and guardian, Shiba Tatsuya, nowhere in sight.
Miyuki pressed her fingers together, looking a little embarrassed. "Onii-sama… went to meet Yagumo-sensei at the Research Division. He said he would be late, so today… it's just me."
"Tch. That Tatsuya… whether as a guardian or as a brother, he's really unqualified sometimes!" Mahiro muttered, clicking his tongue.
This wasn't even the first time something like this had happened. He clearly remembered back when they were in Okinawa—Tatsuya had been called away to a military base there, leaving Miyuki completely on her own. Back then, it had been Mahiro and Sakurai Honami who had stayed by Miyuki's side.
And now, it was happening again.
And to think Tatsuya had gone off to meet that bald monk, Yagumo Kokonoue of all people!
"It's fine," Miyuki said softly, her voice carrying the warmth of a spring breeze. "Even though Onii-sama is my guardian, he has his own duties and connections. I don't mind."
She said she didn't mind, but Mahiro wasn't blind. The faint strain in her smile gave her away. Miyuki was far too tolerant, far too forgiving. Any other girl would have blown up by now—or dragged Tatsuya back to the lab by the ear.
But Miyuki was different. She was Tatsuya's one and only fuse. Other than her—and perhaps their late mother, Miya—no one could ever rein in that overpowered monster of a brother.
"Well, in that case, since Tatsuya-nii isn't here… Mahiro-oniisan will accompany you instead!"
Mahiro puffed out his chest, stepped closer, and gently wrapped an arm around Miyuki's shoulder.
"Mm…"
Miyuki's eyes softened, and she leaned into him ever so slightly. Her porcelain-white cheeks bloomed with the faintest touch of pink, as if cherry blossoms had brushed across her skin.
"And… Onii-sama also said… that he feels relieved entrusting me to Mahiro-oniisan," she whispered so faintly it was like the buzz of a mosquito, yet Mahiro caught every word.
"Is that so?" Mahiro chuckled. "Isn't he afraid I'll steal away his most precious little sister one day?"
"Mahiro-oniisan, baka! Don't say such nonsense!"
Half-joking or not, Miyuki's face immediately turned a deeper shade of pink. She pulled herself away from his arms and glared at him with puffed cheeks. Her expression, so cute yet flustered, looked just like sakura petals scattering in the wind.
...
The following morning, Class 1-A of First High was abuzz with energy. Or perhaps, Mahiro thought, it was simply the nature of every freshman classroom on their second day.
Because most students had already mingled yesterday during orientation, little groups had already begun forming today.
Mahiro glanced at the terminal fixed on his desk. His seat was in the very back row, right beside the window.
Bad news: Miyuki's seat was farther away, surrounded by classmates already eager to talk to her.
Good news: his immediate neighbors were all beautiful girls.
Still, the atmosphere around him was a little… odd.
Even though Mahiro was from the prestigious Yotsuba clan, people seemed to deliberately avoid him. Many eyes snuck glances his way, but few dared to actually step forward. Perhaps it was because of the Yotsuba name, or perhaps because of the reputation of his mother and the unshakable authority their clan carried.
Mahiro sighed inwardly and adjusted the settings on his terminal. If they wanted to treat him like a dangerous bomb, fine—he had better things to do.
Just then, two girls approached his desk.
"H-hello! I'm Mitsui Honoka. Please, please take care of me!"
"Oh?" Mahiro raised his eyes.
Standing there was a petite girl with chestnut-colored hair tied neatly into twin tails. She fiddled nervously with her skirt hem as she introduced herself, her cheeks already flushed red.
Beside her was another girl—a calm-looking beauty with ashen gray hair and eyes that seemed almost glass-like. She observed Mahiro with an expression that betrayed little emotion, yet curiosity lingered beneath the surface.
Mahiro smiled, genuinely this time. "Nice to meet you, Honoka-san. I'm Yotsuba Mahiro. Please treat me well from now on."
The moment he smiled, Honoka nearly squeaked, her face turning crimson.
"K-kyaa…" She bowed quickly, clearly too flustered to maintain eye contact.
Mahiro chuckled softly. So this was Mitsui Honoka—shy to the core.
As for the other girl, she gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
"Kitayama Shizuku," she said curtly, her voice flat yet not unfriendly.
Mahiro nodded back. He had heard of her before. Kitayama Shizuku, daughter of the Kitayama conglomerate's head, Kitayama Ushio. Though her father wasn't a magician, he was a prominent industrialist whose name often appeared in the news.
The bell soon rang, signaling the official start of their first day at First High.
But as soon as the first class ended, the classroom erupted into commotion.
"Eh?! Who's that? She's insanely pretty!"
"You idiot, that's Saegusa Mayumi-senpai, the Student Council President! She's a third-year!"
"Wha—!? Why would the Student Council President come all the way to a first-year class? Don't tell me she's here for Shiba-kun?"
"Of course she is! Who else would it be?"
Amidst the excited whispers, the graceful Mayumi leaned into the doorway of Class 1-A. Her long hair shimmered in the light as she scanned the room. Once her eyes found her target, her lips curved into a playful smile.
"Mahiro-kun, could you come out for a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."
The boys in the classroom gasped in envy, while the girls whispered furiously among themselves.
…
"Mayumi-senpai, what exactly did you need me for?" Mahiro asked once they were seated in a quiet café nearby.
He had not expected the famed "Miss Perfect" of First High to personally take him out during the short break. She had even gone so far as to order coffee for him without asking, completely ignoring the stares of passing students.
But Mayumi didn't seem bothered in the slightest. She raised her teacup gracefully, took a sip, and then set it back down with a soft clink before meeting his gaze.
"Mahiro-kun," she began sweetly, "I came here to invite you to join the Public Morals Committee."
"...Eh?"
Mahiro blinked, his mind briefly scattering into question marks.
Wait, what? That escalated way too quickly! Was this already the main event?
Mayumi giggled behind her hand at his expression before continuing, "This year, there's still one vacant spot on the Committee. After some discussion, I nominated you."
She tilted her head mischievously. "And after a joint decision between the Student Council, the Committee, and the Club Union, it was settled—you'd be our newest member."
Mahiro let out a quiet sigh. "Senpai… please don't tease me like that."
He gave her a weary look. "We both know decisions like these aren't truly made by the so-called 'three-party discussion.' Isn't this just the Ten Master Clans pulling the strings again?"
"Ara~ you saw through me already?" Mayumi playfully stuck out her tongue. "But it's not entirely clan politics. Watanabe-san isn't from a Master Clan, after all."
"That may be true…" Mahiro conceded with a small shrug. "But even so, joining the Public Morals Committee requires every member to be fully equipped with a CAD and ready to enforce discipline by force if necessary. How am I supposed to do that? I don't even have a CAD yet."
"That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you here, Mahiro-kun."
Mayumi's eyes sparkled with mischief as she raised a slender finger to her lips, her playful smile tinged with mystery. Then, with a theatrical flourish, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a sleek, phone-sized terminal, setting it down gently on the table between them.
The device gleamed faintly under the café lights, its surface smooth and elegant. As it touched the table, the faint fragrance clinging to Mayumi drifted across the space between them.
Mahiro's eyes narrowed in surprise.
"This is—?"