Yotsuba Mahiro never expected that Mayumi-san would actually give him a CAD.
She was beautiful, elegant, generous… and very, very rich.
Although it was only an older model general-purpose CAD, it was still surprising. From the way she handed it over, Mahiro could tell it was a personal hand-me-down from Saegusa-senpai, and that alone made it valuable. After all, a CAD that had been in the hands of the Saegusa family's daughter couldn't possibly be "bad," no matter how outdated the model seemed.
Mayumi-san even told him with a smile that he could keep using this one until he acquired his own.
Her words were casual, but her flushed cheeks told another story.
Mahiro understood the implication—after all, transferring a CAD was no simple gesture. A CAD was personalized to its owner; it was an extension of one's magic and combat style. Handing it to another person was nearly the same as revealing all your secrets.
It was, in a way, a form of trust. Or perhaps something more.
Still, Mahiro politely refused her earlier invitation to join the Public Morals Committee.
Becoming a Public Morals Committee member sounded like an honor at first glance, but in truth, it was exhausting work. Daily patrols, constant monitoring, and the endless trouble caused by other students—who in their right mind would want to waste their precious free time on that? And more importantly, club recruitment week was right around the corner. That was the busiest and most exciting time for any First High School student. It would be much better to join a club and enjoy himself, rather than deal with tedious patrol duties.
But Mayumi-san only smiled gently and told him not to rush his answer. He could take his time considering. She also asked him to stop by the Student Council room after school for CAD debugging.
"Ugh… so troublesome," Mahiro muttered under his breath.
And troublesome it truly was.
After school, the campus was filled with noise and commotion. The first day of classes had passed, and students had already started forming small groups, moving together as though invisible boundaries had already been drawn. Mahiro, who had been thinking of quietly slipping away, quickly discovered that things weren't going to be so simple.
On the bright side, his own little group had gained three new members. Besides Mitsui Honoka-chan and Kitayama Shizuku-san from his own class, Saijou Leonhard—Leo for short—had joined them as well. Leo was in the same class as Shiba Tatsuya and stood out with his strong physique and straightforward personality. He specialized in hardening magic, and just looking at him gave off a sense of raw strength.
But there was bad news, too.
Their group had already clashed with others.
At the school gate, Mahiro, who had intended to let Miyuki and the others leave first, ended up walking right into the middle of the commotion—and personally becoming part of the scene.
"It's about time you gave up! Miyuki said she's going home with Yotsuba-kun, so what right do you have to interfere?!"
"Who Miyuki goes home with is her own freedom! What right do you have to decide that for her?!"
Mizuki-chan, her cheeks adorably puffed, stood with determination as she confronted a group of male students blocking their way.
"M-Mizuki, wait…!" Miyuki herself, who stood behind her brother Tatsuya, looked flustered and embarrassed by the misunderstanding.
The cause of the conflict was almost laughably simple.
There had been friction between the two groups since the morning. By the time school ended, jealousy and resentment had piled up until several male students, unable to bear it, deliberately stepped forward to cause trouble. At its core, the issue was the same as always: Miyuki's beauty and excellence had captured their attention, but their prejudice against Course 2 students made them furious at the idea that she associated freely with them.
"Miyuki, we need to talk to you," one of the boys demanded arrogantly.
"That's right, it won't take long. Just give us a little of your time."
Their words carried selfishness and condescension, and Leo couldn't help but laugh coldly.
"Ha! You guys sure like the sound of your own voices. If you had something to say, break time was more than enough."
Beside him, Chiba Erika stepped forward with a smirk, her tone sharp as a blade.
"You're calling it a 'discussion'? Don't make me laugh. If you really wanted to talk, the first thing you should've done is ask Miyuki-san herself. Ignoring her wishes, surrounding her like this… what part of that counts as a discussion? You're already in high school, and you can't even understand such a simple principle? I can't imagine what your poor parents must think."
"Shut up!" the lead boy shouted, his face red with fury. "People from other classes, and worse, weeds like you, have no right to criticize us Blooms!"
The moment his reckless words echoed across the training ground, the air grew heavy with tension. Every Second Course student present glared daggers at the loudmouthed boy. Their hostility was sharp, almost tangible, yet the group of First Course students carried themselves with an arrogant calm, their superiority complex dripping from every gesture.
School rules explicitly forbade students from using the derogatory term "weeds" to describe Course 2 students. Though in practice, the rule was often ignored, using it openly at the school gate was practically begging for trouble.
The Course 2 students nearby glared at him, their anger plain.
But what surprised everyone was that the first to step forward wasn't Leo, nor Erika, but Mizuki—the gentle, bespectacled girl often thought of as fragile.
"You guys—!" she began, her voice trembling with anger.
But before she could speak further, a hand gently pulled her back.
"Yotsuba-kun?!" Mizuki gasped.
Mahiro stepped past her, his calm eyes fixed on the group of boys.
"Leave it to me," he said quietly.
The ringleader's glare sharpened. His name was Morisaki Shun, a descendant of one of the Hundred Families, known for their rapid-fire casting style. His pride was as high as his temper.
"You?" Morisaki Shun—leader of the First Course group—let out a mocking laugh. His narrowed eyes glinted with contempt. "Don't act so smug just because you happened to earn Saegusa-senpai's favor! You're nothing but the Yotsuba Family's discarded trash! I don't know what dirty tricks you pulled to worm your way into Ichiko, but someone like you—an outcast, a dropout—belongs in the weeds! You don't deserve to even stand next to Shiba Miyuki!"
The venom in his words caused a ripple of outrage through the crowd. Even Miyuki, who was normally composed, flinched, her lips pressing into a tight line as her eyes flashed with fury. With elegant precision, she pulled out her CAD, the silver instrument gleaming in her hand. A storm of psions began to swirl faintly around her, a sure sign of her magic surging to the surface.
But before she could unleash it, Mahiro raised a hand to stop her.
"Hah… interesting choice of words," Mahiro said with a calm smile, though the anger in his tone was unmistakable. He stepped closer, eyes locked on Morisaki like a predator narrowing in on prey.
"Mahiro-kun, matte!" Honoka cried, rushing to his side. She tugged at his sleeve desperately. "If you use magic here, you'll be violating school rules! Let's… let's just call the Public Morals Committee, ne?"
"That's right," Kitayama Shizuku added coolly, though her expression remained unreadable. "This isn't the official dueling arena."
Mahiro chuckled lowly, brushing off their concerns. "Magic? Against the likes of them? Don't be ridiculous. I don't need magic to deal with trash."
His casual dismissal froze the air more effectively than any spell could. The words were like pouring fuel onto an already raging fire.
"Yare yare daze… this is going south fast," muttered Erika, scratching her head as if in exasperation. Despite her words, a dangerous grin tugged at her lips. She could practically feel the First Course students bristling, their pride boiling at having been looked down upon. With a swift motion, Erika's hand slipped inside her jacket and gripped the collapsible baton hidden there. She was ready.
"How dare you…!" Morisaki snapped, his pride pierced beyond repair. "Fine, I'll show you your place, baka!"
He raised his CAD—a sleek, pistol-shaped model—and leveled it directly at Mahiro. Sparks of psion activation waves flared around him, sequences layering quickly as his magic took shape.
The onlookers gasped.
"H-he's casting Rapid Fire magic!" someone whispered.
"Mahiro-kun, abunai!" Honoka shouted.
But Mahiro only smirked. "Idiot… don't you know that within five meters, fists are faster than spells?"
The trigger was pulled—yet in that instant, Mahiro's figure blurred.
To the eyes of most students, he seemed to vanish completely, leaving behind only a rush of wind. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared directly in front of Morisaki, the distance closed faster than a thought.
"Eh?! Did he… pre-cast an Acceleration spell?"
"No," Shizuku replied, her calm voice slicing through the murmurs. "That was just his raw physical speed."
Miyuki's eyes widened slightly. "So fast…"
Morisaki barely had time to process the shock before Mahiro's hand shot out, seizing him by the face with terrifying precision.
"Know your place."
With a merciless slam, Mahiro drove him headfirst into the ground. The impact thundered through the courtyard, cracks splintering outward across the stone floor. Dust rose, and the sickening thud of skull against earth silenced the crowd.
"Ugh—!"
The collective flinch was almost audible. Even Erika froze mid-motion, her baton halfway drawn, and Leo, who had been seconds from casting his fortification magic, halted in disbelief.
"Oi oi… that was a bit too much, wasn't it?" Erika muttered, though her smirk betrayed her thrill.
The students watched in stunned silence as Morisaki lay groaning on the ground, his pride—and his face—both shattered.
Yotsuba Mahiro stood over him, calm and unshaken, his presence radiating the undeniable authority of someone who didn't need words or bloodlines to command respect.