The school bell rang, drowning the classroom in a rush of voices and scraping chairs.
"Remember, guys!" Mori-sensei's voice cut through the noise. "Tomorrow is the parent-teacher meeting. Don't forget to tell your parents!"
Daichi slumped back into his seat, muttering, "I don't know if my father will be able to come or not. He's so busy these days… comes home past midnight every day."
Haruto scratched his cheek, sighing. "Hmm, same. Don't even know if Mom can make it."
"Let's go," Daichi said, swinging his bag over his shoulder.
The two walked out together, quickly shifting topics to the latest manga chapter. Their laughter and excited chatter echoed down the corridor.
But just outside, leaning against the wall, stood Mori-sensei with arms folded. His sharp eyes tracked them until they noticed him.
"Sato," Mori-sensei called, curling two fingers in a come-here gesture.
Mori-sensei's gaze sharpened as Haruto stepped closer.
"Sato," he began, tone firm but not unkind. "I really want to have a proper conversation with your mother about your falling grades."
Haruto blinked. "Huh? Why?"
"You used to be the undisputed number one in the class," Mori-sensei said, folding his arms tighter. "But lately, your grades have slipped a little."
Haruto frowned. "But… I'm still at the top of the class."
"I know," Mori-sensei admitted with a sigh. "But the trajectory is downward. Especially since you and Nakamura spend so much time buried in manga at the library." His eyes flicked toward Daichi, who scratched the back of his head guiltily.
"…Fine. I'll tell her," Haruto muttered.
"Good." Mori-sensei nodded, then turned. "I expect the same from you, Nakamura."
"Yeah, yeah…" Daichi replied, clearly unsatisfied, his lips twisting into a pout.
The two of them walked down to the bicycle stand, the afternoon sun spilling across rows of bikes.
Haruto kicked at the gravel, brows knitted. "That bastard… Last time he was relentlessly flirting with my mom."
Daichi snorted, unlocking his bicycle. "Tch. That guy's a hundred percent womanizer, no doubt about it."
Haruto groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Damn it, now I actually have to tell her about the meeting. I can't even use the excuse that she's busy…"
"Yeah," Daichi said, mounting his bike with a smirk. "Otherwise, that bastard will ask for her phone number under the pretense of 'needing to talk to her.'"
Haruto's face twisted. "Oh, shit—you're right, Daichi."
Daichi chuckled, pushing off the ground. "Better guard your mom, man. Sensei's dangerous."
Haruto swung his leg over the bike, still grumbling. Daichi smirked, leaning on his handlebars.
"I mean, I can't really blame him," Daichi said casually. "If I were in my twenties, and I somehow knew your mom was single… I'd do everything to date her. Even if it meant dealing with a stepson like you."
Haruto's face heated instantly. "The hell, Daichi—fuck off!"
The two glared at each other for a second before bursting into laughter, their voices echoing across the empty bicycle lot.
As they rolled their bikes out onto the road, Haruto called out, "Oi, Daichi—I'll video call you later, after you're back from cram school."
Daichi gave him a look. "Why? You're not going home?"
Haruto shook his head. "No… I'm thinking I should just tell Mom about tomorrow's meeting today. That way she can ask her boss for permission in advance."
Daichi smirked. "Good idea. Saves you from Sensei's annoying face tomorrow."
"Exactly."
They reached the intersection, tires squeaking as they braked.
"Bye then," Daichi said, lifting a hand. "Call me later."
"Yeah." Haruto waved back.
Their paths split—Daichi pedaling toward cram school, Haruto toward home. Behind them, the faded board of Higashimurayama Minami JHS stood crooked, glaring in the harsh sunlight.
After twenty minutes of pedaling, Haruto finally rolled into the parking lot of a local kombini. He parked his bike in the shed and walked toward the back, where the staff room door usually was.
He grabbed the handle and gave it a twist—locked.
"…Huh." He knocked twice, waited, then leaned his ear against the door. No sound.
Shielding his eyes from the sun, he peeked through the narrow window. Empty.
With a sigh, he circled around to the front entrance, the automatic doors sliding open with a chime. The store wasn't huge—medium-sized, with aisles neatly packed with instant ramen, drinks, and snacks.
Haruto went straight to the counter.
"Yo, Haruto!" The girl at the register lit up. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Hi, Akira-onee-san," Haruto greeted back with a small smile. "How are you? College life treating you okay?"
Akira groaned, rolling her eyes. "Grinding, you know. Exams, part-time shifts, repeat."
"Yeah… figures."
He glanced around. "By the way, where's Mom? She should be in the staff room."
"Oh, that." Akira leaned over the counter, lowering her voice. "We've been keeping that door locked lately. Some stray cat keeps sneaking in and… well, pooping there."
Haruto made a face. "…Gross."
"Right?" She chuckled. "If she's not there, she must be in the manager's room. Wait here—I'll let her know you came."
"Thanks, Onee-san."
Akira ducked into the hallway behind the counter, leaving Haruto standing there with his hands in his pockets.
"Come in," came a squeaky voice from inside.
She pushed it open, only to be greeted by a thick wall of cigarette smoke. The air reeked.
"Geez, manager," Akira coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. "At least turn on the exhaust fan." She leaned over and flicked the switch herself, the fan rattling to life overhead.
Behind the desk sat the manager—a fat, sturdy man with a half-bald head and round glasses. He was hunched too close to his paperwork, sweat glistening at his temples.
"What do you want?" he asked, his mouth twisted in strange expressions as he made little grunts and hums.
Akira raised an eyebrow. "Where's Sato-san? Her son Haruto's at the counter looking for her."
"I… don't know," the manager stammered.
Akira narrowed her eyes. "…Whatever. She must be in the toilet then." She muttered under her breath and left, letting the door swing shut.
The instant it clicked closed, the manager slid his chair back.
"Ahh… continue," he murmured.
"Manager, my son is here," Miyuki hissed from under the desk.
"Don't worry, Akira will tell him you're in the toilet.
Just… hurry up and cum already, you old pervert."
She lowered her head again, resuming the act.
Meanwhile, Akira returned to the counter. A lone customer was waiting, and she quickly rang up the bill, handed back change, and bowed them off.
Then she turned to Haruto. "Your mom's in the toilet."
"Oh, okay," Haruto replied casually. "I'll look around for some things then."
"Sure," Akira said with a smile, already unlocking her phone and scrolling through Instagram as Haruto wandered off into the aisles.