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ArabicClassroom of the Elite: Surviving with the Intel System — Chapter 24
Chapter 24: A Gyaru’s Bodyguard
At some point, the news of Shimizu Akira joining the Boxing Club had thoroughly permeated the class.
The shift in the classroom’s atmosphere was subtle but distinct. Whispers trailed off when he walked past, and the casual eye contact from his peers now carried a heavy undercurrent of wariness. Advanced Nurturing High School operated on a strict hierarchy, and the Boxing Club comfortably sat at the absolute apex of the athletic food chain—a Tier-0 establishment. Much like the aggressive gyaru cliques that dominated the social ladder, a combat-focused club carried a natural aura of intimidation. Nobody wanted to risk getting knocked cold over a petty verbal dispute.
Akira, however, found the sudden apprehension slightly amusing. He preferred to dismantle problems with logic and communication; violence was merely a highly effective tool, not a first resort.
“Shimizu-kun!” Karuizawa Kei approached his desk, leaning forward with a bright, calculated smile. “When is the Boxing Club holding a match next?”
Recently, the blonde gyaru had been manufacturing an awful lot of excuses to strike up conversations with him. It wasn’t difficult to read the deliberate interest sparkling in her eyes, though her sudden fascination with combat sports felt entirely artificial.
“Two seniors are sparring next week,” Akira answered dryly.
“Then, how many ordinary people can Shimizu-kun take on at once now?” Kei rested her hands flat on his desk, leaning in close enough for the sweet scent of her perfume to drift across the space between them.
Akira studied her eager expression, genuinely puzzled by her obsession with his combat metrics. “Three or five shouldn’t be a problem.”
It was the honest truth. With his baseline physical specs, subduing a handful of untrained high schoolers would have been a trivial matter even before he ever laced up a pair of gloves.
“So cool!” Kei clapped her hands together, her eyes curving into delighted crescents. “Then, when you throw a straight punch, do you make those ‘pfft-pfft’ sounds like the guys in the movies?”
“That’s just to coordinate breath control with kinetic power while maintaining a steady rhythm. Beginners do tend to rely on it.”
Akira watched her nod along enthusiastically. She was significantly more talkative today than usual. Her delicate features were arranged into a picture-perfect mask of feminine admiration, and despite knowing exactly how thick she was laying on the flattery, he found it difficult to be annoyed.
A pretty girl showering a guy with undivided attention rarely provoked hostility. It simply reinforced a universal truth: a man’s tolerance for a woman’s ulterior motives was directly proportional to her physical attractiveness.
Still, the math didn’t quite add up. He distinctly remembered the entrance ceremony. Back on the first day of school, Kei had been practically glued to Hirata Yosuke’s side.
Without shifting his posture, Akira cast a brief, sweeping glance toward the opposite end of the classroom.
The sunny, universally beloved star of the Soccer Club was currently holding court, surrounded by his usual orbit of adoring classmates. As if sensing the observation, Hirata turned his head, caught Akira’s eye, and offered a bright, entirely unburdened smile.
‘He sees Karuizawa talking to me and doesn’t react at all,’Akira noted silently.’No jealousy. No possessiveness. They definitely aren’t in that kind of relationship.’A new detail clicked into place. Ever since that brief interaction at the very beginning of the semester, Kei and Hirata had barely spoken. Instead, she had spent the last several days hovering around Akira’s desk.’Could it be… she’s trying to scout me as a bodyguard?’
The realization brought a cynical chill to his thoughts. Being admired by a cute girl was a pleasant distraction, but being maneuvered into acting as someone’s personal meat shield was entirely different. In this cutthroat academy, nobody survived by playing the naive, honest fool.
“Is Karuizawa-san really that interested in the Boxing Club?”
Kushida Kikyo, who had been standing quietly nearby, suddenly chimed in.
“Ah~ Actually, I don’t care about the boxing itself at all!” Kei cupped her cheeks with both hands, her eyes sparkling with exaggerated mischief. “I just think it’s super cool when guys show off their upper body muscles!”
“That’s not a very pure motive~” Kushida teased, winking playfully.
“Hehe, what’s wrong with appreciating a good physique?” Kei retorted, puffing out her cheeks before shooting a deliberate, flirtatious wink directly at Akira.
Akira’s heart remained as calm as stagnant water.
To him, this wasn’t a romantic overture. The bubbly enthusiasm Kei displayed was nothing more than a calculated strategy to secure a ‘protective umbrella’ for herself within the class hierarchy.
“Well then, see you next time, Shimizu-kun!”
As Kei turned to leave, her slender fingers trailed downward, ‘accidentally’ grazing the hard lines of his abdomen through his uniform shirt. She gasped, her eyes widening in a theatrical display of shock. “Wow! So firm!”
Despite the bold move, the tips of her ears instantly burned a vivid, betraying crimson.
‘Huh?’Akira watched her retreat.’That reaction… that doesn’t match the seasoned gyaru persona she projects. Does she actually have zero experience interacting with guys?’He paused, glancing down at his shirt.’Wait. Did I just get blatantly groped?’
He supposed teenage hormones were a two-way street. Girls harbored just as much curiosity and desire toward the male physique as boys did toward them. A muscular build was bound to trigger a biological response.
Before he could dwell on it further, a small, folded square of paper resting innocuously on the corner of his desk caught his eye.
It hadn’t been there a minute ago.
Who put this here?
The question flashed through his mind, but this was hardly the environment to investigate. Kushida was still standing entirely too close to his seat, her clear, perceptive eyes tracking his shifting gaze.
“What’s wrong?” Kushida asked, her voice dripping with innocent concern.
“Nothing.” Akira smoothly swept the folded note off the desk and slipped it into his pocket. He would examine it later, behind locked doors.
Pivoting the conversation, he looked back up at her. “Speaking of which, does Kushida-san have any good ways to relieve stress?”
Kushida blinked, her eyes widening slightly at the abrupt change in topic. “…Eh? Why ask that all of a sudden?”
“No special reason. Just purely wanted to hear your advice.”
She smiled, radiating her trademark angelic warmth. “I see… For me, as long as I see my classmates happy, I feel very happy too. So… I don’t really need to go out of my way to relieve stress!”
Akira kept his expression perfectly neutral. “…Right. As long as you’re happy.”
Just trying to process the sheer psychological exhaustion required to maintain her two-faced facade made his own head ache.
Dismissing the topic, Kushida turned her attention to the neighboring seat. “Horikita-san, would you like to go get some coffee together?”
“No need.” Horikita Suzune didn’t even bother looking up from her book. Her rejection was crisp, cold, and absolute.
Kushida’s sweet smile didn’t crack a fraction of an inch. She merely sighed softly. “What a pity~” Turning on her heel, she drifted away to join a cluster of other girls. Soon enough, the classroom echoed with their bright laughter, the sound gradually fading as they walked out into the hallway.
The room quieted down. Akira assumed the brief interlude was over, ready to finally inspect the mysterious note in his pocket.
Then, Horikita Suzune slowly turned her head.
Her dark eyes locked straight onto him, her voice so intensely calm it bordered on eerie. “What do you want to eat tonight?”
Akira’s fingers froze against the wood of his desk.
He slowly raised his head, staring at the notoriously aloof ice queen, genuinely wondering if his hearing had finally failed him.