_____

  Jun let out a loud, intentional cough, signaling to the girl lost in her "action movie" that she was no longer alone.

  The girl nearly jumped out of her skin as she ripped the headphones off. She turned to see Jun standing there, her eyes wide and watery with panic.

  "This... this is... for Health and PE!" she stammered, her face turning a shade of red that looked physically painful. "Yumi-chan said it was... research material!"

  "I’d suggest closing that tab, Imukawa," Jun said, pointing at the monitor. "Class lets out in five minutes. You don't want the others seeing your 'research.'"

  "Right! Of course!" Her hand shook so violently that she couldn't even line up the cursor with the "X" on the browser. In a fit of desperation, she just held down the power button until the machine died.

  Once the screen went black, Natsumi Imukawa slumped into a chair at the conference table. She sat with her knees pressed together and her head bowed so low her chin hit her chest. Her ears were practically glowing red. She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

  Jun recognized her. She was a freshman from Class 4. He’d seen her around the first floor a few times.

  "Imukawa—"

  As soon as he spoke, she jerked her head up. "I'm so sorry!"

  "Relax. Take a breath." Jun walked out to the hallway to give her some space.

  The Haneoka High campus was laid out in a distinct "H" shape. The main wing faced the front gates, housing the faculty offices and specialty labs on one end and the standard classrooms on the other. A shorter wing contained the "Activity Block," where all the clubs and the Student Council were located. The Journalism Club was on the first floor of the Activity Block.

  From the hallway, Jun could look across the courtyard at the windows of his own classroom, Class 2, and the neighboring Class 1.

  Health class was still in session. The boys were out on the field, but the girls were inside. This week, Yuka was sitting by the window. Jun could see her profile clearly.

  Yuka surreptitiously pulled out her phone and sent a text.

  Yuka: We’re learning some very... interesting things in Health class today. (Dizzy bunny emoji)

  After hitting send, she glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and her eyes landed on Jun across the courtyard.

  She gave him a playful wink, stuck her tongue out, and then used a finger to trace a heart on the fogged-up glass of the window.

  Jun remained expressionless and shifted his gaze to Class 1.

  Haruka Mochizuki was also by the window. She was staring at her desk, occasionally glancing at the blackboard with a bored expression.

  Her eyelashes flickered, as if she sensed someone watching her. She looked out and locked eyes with Jun.

  Zip.

  She pulled the curtain shut instantly.

  When Jun returned to the club room, Natsumi had calmed down, though her ears were still pink.

  "I won't tell anyone," Jun said as he sat across from her. "And you don't need to apologize. Everyone sees that kind of stuff eventually."

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Natsumi nodded, fidgeting in her chair like a nervous penguin.

  The bell rang, and soon the hallway was flooded with noise. Ko Tsushima arrived with the rest of the crew, and everyone took their seats.

  Jun counted eleven members in total. Four upperclassmen, three freshmen, and a girl who must have been the "Yumi-chan" Natsumi mentioned. Yumi was sitting next to Natsumi, wearing a grin that screamed 'Mission Accomplished.' Whatever she whispered into Natsumi’s ear made the poor girl turn beet-red all over again.

  "Alright, meeting's in session!" Ko announced, and the room went quiet.

  "The school has a major project for us. For next year’s recruitment drive, the board wants a student-led promotional video. The Journalism Club is in charge of the concept and content strategy."

  This was a big deal for a high school club.

  "The brief is simple but vague: 'Showcase the spirit, creativity, and academic rigor of the Haneoka student body.'"

  "So basically, they want us to do their marketing for them," Yumi quipped.

  "It means we have creative freedom," explained Kasie, a sophomore.

  "Why aren't the pros doing this? We’re seniors; we have entrance exams to worry about," grumbled Kikuzaki.

  "The Principal said that any student who makes a significant contribution to the production gets a formal commendation," Ko added. "It’s a massive boost for college applications. Most universities in Tokyo will give you a break on the entrance cutoffs or a pass on the secondary interviews if you’re credited on a project like this."

  "Student-led media is the cornerstone of modern education," Kikuzaki corrected himself instantly.

  "So, we’re all in," Ko said. "Any ideas for a theme?"

  "Maybe we should look at what we’ve done in the past?" Jun suggested.

  Ko fired up the projector. Natsumi tensed up as he navigated the browser, but he stayed on the school’s official site. They watched several years' worth of recruitment videos.

  "They’re all the same," someone muttered.

  They checked other schools.

  "Still the same. Facilities, curriculum, shots of the library..."

  "Whoa, look at this one! It looks like a music video!"

  "That’s a performing arts school, they don't count."

  Silence fell over the room.

  "What do we have that they don't?" Ko asked.

  "What did you all expect when you first enrolled here?" Jun asked the group.

  "Youth!"

  "The 'High School Experience.'"

  "Romance and clubs."

  "And now that you’re in the middle of it, how does it feel?" Ko followed up, turning Jun’s question into something more philosophical.

  The freshmen stayed quiet. They were still in the honeymoon phase.

  "...I feel lost," Kikuzaki admitted.

  "Anxious," said Inamiya, a sophomore who was always buried in a book. Jun recognized her from the Geography briefing.

  "Actually," Jun said, making Natsumi jump slightly. "I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. What is the ultimate goal of my life?"

  "Ah, the existential crisis phase," the seniors chuckled.

  Ko sighed. "Trust me, you freshmen will be there by next year. The school counselor has a month-long waiting list right now."

  "If we’re talking life goals, there’s really only one that matters," Kikuzaki said with total confidence.

  "Money."

  "Hard to argue with that."

  "Fact."

  Of course, Jun thought. When you strip away the high school drama, it always comes back to the bottom line. Growing up in an orphanage had taught him that lesson early. Money wasn't just paper; it was the floor beneath your feet.

  But man is a greedy animal. Jun wasn't just worried about his own dinner anymore; he was thinking about the kids back at the home.

  "Let’s look at it another way," Ko suggested. "Not goals—fantasies. What’s your 'If I won the lottery' dream?"

  "I want to live at the top of Tokyo Skyscraper," Kikuzaki said. "I want to look down on the world."

  "I want to be a rock star. Sold-out show at the Tokyo Dome," Yumi said.

  "I want to write manga," Inamiya said, pushing her glasses up. "Dark, psychological, blood-soaked 'shoujo' manga."

  "I don't think you know what 'shoujo' means," Kasie teased.

  "...I want to be a cinematographer," Natsumi whispered. "I want to capture everything."

  "I want to take care of a whole bunch of kids," Jun said last.

  The room erupted in laughter.

  "What are you, a polygamist?" Kikuzaki laughed.

  "Total harem protagonist energy," Yumi added.

  "Very 'Tale of Genji,'" Inamiya noted.

  Jun didn't bother explaining.

  Ko clapped his hands, ending the debate. "Let’s go with that. The 'Fantasy' of High School. Let’s sell the dream and trick the next batch of freshmen into joining us!"

  He turned to the blackboard and wrote in large letters:

  "How Do You Live?"

  "Won't we get sued for that title?" Kikuzaki asked, squinting.

  "It’s an homage!" Ko said confidently. "Doesn't it sound meaningful? Doesn't it make you want to see what we have to say?"

  The group nodded.

  "Meeting adjourned! I’ll talk to the other clubs and the board. No objections? Good."

  Soon, only Jun and Ko were left in the room.

  "I know what you actually meant by 'taking care of kids,'" Ko said, leaning back in his chair. He was one of the few who knew Jun’s background. "Is that a thing for all you orphanage kids? That level of responsibility?"

  "They’re my family," Jun said. Like Haruka, he preferred not to answer direct personal questions. "When I was in middle school, I thought a drum kit looked cool. Those kids saved their snack money for three months—all twenty of them—just to buy me a used Tama Imperialstar for my fifteenth birthday."

  "It was second-hand, but it was expensive. I hated the shop owner for not talking them into something cheaper. Do you know how hard it is for a seven-year-old to give up candy for three months?"

  Jun smiled, but his voice was heavy.

  As they walked toward the gates, Ko turned to him. "Heading to work again?"

  Jun nodded.

  "Matsue, if you’re looking for a goal, why not aim to be the Hustle King?"

  "The what?" Jun asked, wheeling his bike.

  "The King of the Part-Timers. Work more jobs, make more money, and do it better than anyone else."

  On Monday, during History class, Jun looked at his notebook.

  3. High School Exit Strategy?

  Step 1: Become the Hustle King.

  _________

  Tuesday morning. July 2nd.

  Jun looked at the school calendar on the wall. They were less than three weeks away from summer break.

  His schedule for the day: Math A, Math 1, Geography, and PE.

  Jun hated Math. Or rather, he hated anything that couldn't be solved with pure memorization—Physics, Chemistry, the works. You couldn't "hack" a math competition by reading the textbook the night before; it required intuition. He didn't have time for intuition. He had money to make.

  To be the Hustle King, one needed a perfect grasp of time management. Efficiency was everything.

  But as he sat in class, he realized that "efficiency" was about to become very difficult to maintain...