Youth is a lie, an impulse. Those who celebrate youth often deceive themselves and those around them. They face everything in their circumstances with a positive outlook. Even if they commit so monuntal mistake, they regard it as a symbol of youth, etched... etched...
Uh... I forgot the rest.
Anyway, all you normies, just explode for !!
In a dark corner that even the KTV laser lights couldn't reach, Fuyuji, brimming with resentnt, crunched on potato chips while visually violating the boys and girls who were beaming with smiles, harmoniously enjoying themselves with their companions, singing joyfully together.
Sunday afternoon, Class 1-A welcod its first class gathering since the start of school. Katsuragi had booked a massive KTV room. Since the morning, he had been making various preparations—drinks, snacks, fun little gas, all fully provided—striving to leave the Class A students with a wonderful mory.
However, happiness belonged to them. Fuyuji had nothing.
"Here..."
Fuyuji slurped a mouthful of jelly and passed the potato chips in his hand over to Morishita.
"I don't want this. I want the chocolate inside those bamboo shoot cookies."
"I'll get it for you later."
Fuyuji turned and offered the potato chips to Yamamura. "Yamamura, do you want so?"
"Thank you, Fuyuji-kun..." Yamamura accepted the potato chips and thanked him in a soft, quiet voice.
Fuyuji stood up, preparing to go get the mushroom mountain chocolates. He preferred those.
"Fuyuji-kun, please get a sweet milk as well." Shiraishi, sitting close beside him, made her request with a smile.
"Alright..."
"My brother, what do you want?"
Fuyuji then asked Kamuro, who was huddled in the corner playing on her phone.
As soone tone-deaf, Kamuro had originally planned to slip away right after the opening. With forty people, no one would notice if one went missing. However, Fuyuji was far too despicable. He saw through her intentions at a glance and used an order to threaten her. Only then did she have no choice but to remain here in humiliation.
"Nothing." Kamuro glared at Fuyuji irritably, then lowered her head and continued playing on her phone.
As expected, the excitent was theirs. Fuyuji felt only inner peace.
After leaving his own dark, comfortable seat that shunned light and love, Fuyuji's attention was imdiately drawn to another existence that shared his plight.
Kito Hayato, a male student who possessed an equally distinctive aura. At this mont, he, too, sat alone in a corner, silently observing the n and won illuminated by the multicolored spotlights. Half of his demonic face was hidden in the shadows, a vacuum zone carved out around him by the crowd.
Fuyuji picked up a drink and walked straight over to him, handed it to him, and sat down.
"Kito-san," Fuyuji patted his shoulder amiably, wearing an expression that said, 'As expected, we are the true brothers here.' "Say no more. Let's use tea in place of wine and drink until we're drunk."
For Kito, who had experienced this kind of treatnt since childhood, this scene was sothing he was long accustod to.
Instead, he looked bewildered at Fuyuji, who had suddenly rushed over and completely imrsed himself in this act on his own. For a mont, he didn't even know what to say. He could only dryly echo, "Cheers..."
Two bottles clinked together in midair, producing a dull sound.
Fuyuji squeezed even closer to Kito and sighed with emotion, "As expected, we are Stand users of the sa type, solitary souls rejected by the world. But it doesn't matter. It's not that the world rejected us; it's that we rejected the world! Co! Down another one!"
Kito raised his hand and looked at the label on the drink. There wasn't any alcohol either. How was he already drunk?
Also, he recalled the direction Fuyuji had co from just now... His lips twitched a few tis, but in the end, he didn't voice it.
"Oh right, where's Hashimoto-san? Isn't he with you?"
"Over there." Kito nodded his chin, gesturing for Fuyuji to look in that direction.
Under the neon lights, Hashimoto was pulling out all the stops, using sweet words and cunning phrases, flitting like a flamboyantly dressed butterfly among the girls and boys, having the ti of his life.
"Tch..." Fuyuji clicked his tongue. "That guy Hashimoto really is a traitor, a double-dealer. To think he'd betray our class."
Although he truly didn't have much goodwill towards Hashimoto, Kito felt he was being a bit unfairly blad here.
After shooting the breeze with Kito for a while longer, Fuyuji got up, swaying slightly, and left this place of tranquility. He was off to embark on a new campaign.
Was he... really not drunk?
Watching Fuyuji's back, Kito voiced a soul-deep question.
Wandering around, Fuyuji arrived at the spot where the event organizer, Katsuragi, and his hanger-on were.
At this mont, the two were seated on the sofa with the widest field of vision, able to see all their classmates at a glance, ready to handle any issues at the first sign. Several other classmates were also nearby, chatting with them.
"Katsuragi-kun, you can't let Shinji and the others steal your thunder! Get up there quickly and show off your singing voice. Let them know your prowess. This way, you'll gain even more trust from the classmates."
Totsuka was egging Katsuragi on desperately from the side, urging him to go up and belt out a song.
Katsuragi seriously compared Shinji's slightly magnetic male voice and then recalled his own deep, low voice, akin to a pit. He felt that Totsuka wanted him to go up there and make a fool of himself.
"Yahiko, singing isn't sothing I'm good at. In comparison, Shinji-kun's voice is far more suited to livening up the atmosphere." Katsuragi frankly admitted his weakness.
"No! I believe Katsuragi-kun can definitely do it!"
"Yeah, Katsuragi-san. How do you know it won't work if you haven't tried?"
Fuyuji, chewing on his straw and holding his drink, smoothly inserted himself into the conversation.
"Wh-What are you doing here?" Totsuka beside him was startled by Fuyuji's sudden ambush.
Totsuka was sowhat apprehensive of Fuyuji. This guy was not only unreliable but had also usurped Katsuragi-kun's standing in the class. And even Katsuragi-kun himself trusted him deeply.
What was worse, even he himself vaguely felt that this guy was formidable.
Damn it! He must have used so despicable thod to confuse him! His loyalty to Katsuragi-kun is absolute!
"What brings Fuyuji-kun here? Would you like so snacks?" Katsuragi showed considerable warmth towards Fuyuji's arrival and casually picked up a snack from the table to offer him.
"Katsuragi, I've co to critique you."
Fuyuji straightened his face, clasped his hands behind his back, and began pacing slowly around Katsuragi, like a middle-aged leader criticizing a young trainee who had made a mistake.
"The classmates are all enjoying a wonderful ti. As the class leader, how can you sit here with such a stern face? This will make the classmates feel constrained and unable to freely showcase their singing voices. You must take a leading and guiding role, fully exert your subjective initiative, and enhance class cohesion. Only then can you maintain class stability in the increasingly fierce class struggles ahead."
"But..."
A drop of cold sweat slid down Katsuragi's forehead. He tried to explain, "Actually, I've never tried singing at a KTV before. I'm not very confident in my voice."
"How do you know it won't work if you haven't tried? Ichinose told that she also rarely went to KTV to sing before, and now she handles it with ease, doesn't she?"
Faced with the Ichinose offensive that Fuyuji brought out, Katsuragi revealed an unprecedented panic. He waved his hands vigorously. "Forget it. I—"
"No need to explain. The path of life lies beneath your feet. How can you abandon the starry sky above out of fear of the distant horizon? Go, Katsuragi! We are with you!"
Fuyuji spoke with impassioned fervor. Seizing the mont, he picked up the microphone on the table and, facing the entire crowd, called out with deep emotion:
"Everyone! Let's welco Katsuragi Kohei to sing us a song!"
The voices in the room ceased instantly. All eyes turned towards Katsuragi's direction. In a flash, enthusiastic applause erupted.
"Katsuragi! Katsuragi! Katsuragi!"
Totsuka and Fuyuji once again ford a united front without prior agreent, waving their hands and cheering him on wildly.
Driven by the two of them, cheers rapidly spread through the crowd.
"Katsuragi! Katsuragi! Katsuragi!"
Katsuragi looked at the Class A students gradually surrounding him, forced his gaping mouth shut with effort, his throat bobbing a few tis. His brain went into a crash state. His originally gleaming bald head slowly beca tinged with red, white suffused with crimson.
"Did you hear that? That is the voice of your classmates. Go. Together, let us step into that unknown battlefield and seek out new scenery."
Without allowing any argunt, Fuyuji directly shoved the microphone in his hand into Katsuragi's grasp and pushed him towards the large screen in the center of the KTV. He stumbled two steps into the middle of everyone's field of vision.
And Fuyuji himself turned and left the clamorous scene behind. Just as he ca lightly, so he left lightly, leaving not a single cloud behind...
Katsuragi ca back to his senses. He looked at the microphone in his hand, then looked left and right, only to find the stage completely empty, save for himself. Surrounding him were the clustered Class A students.
That "we"... where did the "we" go?
He frantically turned his head, scanning every corner of the crowd, trying to find the culprit who had pushed him up here—Fuyuji—so he could drag him up to keep him company as well.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Fuyuji's departing back in the distance. Just as he was about to call out, "Fuyu—"
"Katsuragi-kun, I've already queued up a song for you! This one, 'Sekai ni Hitotsu Dake no Hana,' is definitely perfect for you! Co on! Show the whole class your singing voice!"
Totsuka rushed over excitedly and forcibly pressed down Katsuragi's hand, which was extended into midair.
"..."
Katsuragi stared blankly at the incredibly excited Totsuka for a mont, then suddenly spoke with a solemn face. "Yahiko, let's sing it together."
"Haah?"
A short while later, amid the wild laughter of the entire class, two stamring, hesitant voices rose up in the center of the KTV.
Having concluded one battlefield, Fuyuji, with swaggering, valiant might, rushed non-stop to another battlefield. A new storm had already erged! How could he stand still?!
In the ga area, the class heartthrob Satonaka Satoru was being pulled by Nakajima, Hiroshi, and a group of girls to play board gas. Beside them were a few other friends who often hung out with them.
Damn it! To be so popular with girls!
Jealousy hesitated for only 0.01 seconds. Fuyuji steeled his resolve. He would return a bright and clear world to this age that celebrated youth!
With his intent clear, Fuyuji launched a Don Quixote-style charge at the class's ultimate normie.
They happened to have just finished a round of Werewolf. Fuyuji made his grand entrance. "Deal in! I'm not that great at this!"
"Eh, Fuyuji-kun wants to play too? Sure!"
The normie group welcod Fuyuji and even brought him drinks and snacks.
Fuyuji gulped down half a bottle of orange juice, indicating he would absolutely not surrender.
The ga soon began. A few players sat scattered around the table.
Day one. Without the slightest hesitation, Fuyuji decisively jumped the gun and declared himself the Seer, initiating his tactic of calling a deer a horse.
"I accuse Satonaka! He's a Werewolf! I saw it with my own eyes!"
Huh? ?
Satonaka quietly checked his own card and confird he was indeed the Seer, not a Werewolf. The person he had investigated last night was Fuyuji. But that guy was the Hunter!
Hampered by the trust Fuyuji commanded in the class, Satonaka couldn't defend himself, and the accusation was too outrageous—saying Fuyuji was the Hunter. In the end, he died with unresolved grievances.
One Villager died during the night. Day two, Fuyuji continued to lead the rhythm, using the power of "I Reckon," supplented by shifty eyes and inconsistent semantics from start to finish, successfully taking down one Werewolf.
During the second night, the Witch went into overdrive and directly took down a Werewolf.
Stealing his kill?!
Could this be tolerated? Fuyuji decisively used "calling a deer a horse" again.
The Witch, grasping the two iron bars of justice, desperately proclaid her innocence but still couldn't match Fuyuji's righteous aura and was voted out.
This ti, everyone began to feel that sothing was slightly off. The gazes directed at Fuyuji turned strange.
Day three night, the Werewolves pressed the attack and took down another Villager.
Dayti. Everyone stared at Fuyuji with dark, brooding eyes.
Stare~
"Why are you looking at ? I'm ironclad Good! Believe in . I will lead you to victory." Fuyuji spoke without changing expression.
Helplessly, truth was only ever held by the few. Faced with the surging will of the people, Fuyuji, with unyielding integrity, preferred death to surrender, and was honorably eliminated.
The young warrior fell at the final mont before dawn. Fuyuji executed a Mutual Demise technique, taking the last Werewolf with him.
"Phew—"
Having successfully won the ga for his faction, Fuyuji wiped a non-existent bead of sweat from his forehead. "Truly a thrilling and exhilarating duel."
"Only YOU think that, right?!"
The remaining classmates, still utterly baffled by the end, complained in unison.
Having concluded his final campaign, the aged and decrepit Fuyuji set foot on the road back to his hotown.
In his youth, he had resolved to wander the world with his sword. Taking the best sword in the village, bidding farewell to the village chief, he ventured into the vast world.
Now, having achieved fa and success, his might shaking a region, it was ti to wash his hands of it all and retire from the wandering life.
Following the scent of rice paddies in his mory, crossing the ridges between fields, passing the haystacks, Fuyuji once again returned to that small village. The acquaintances of the past were still there.
"I'm back from my debauchery."
Morishita looked at the empty-handed Fuyuji.
"Where's the stuff?"
Fuyuji fell into a prolonged silence.
"I forgot..."
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