Practical Classroom: Kaoru Hanayama's Classroom of Merit

(Brain storage site)

(All characters in the book are over eighteen years old!)

April, the start of the school year.

A bus stop somewhere in Tokyo was crowded with boys and girls dressed in brand-new uniforms.

They were wearing burgundy jackets, the uniforms of advanced higher education institutions.

It was an elite school, established under the guidance of the Japanese government, like a dream come true. Facing the start of their high school life today, their faces radiated undisguised anticipation and excitement.

"A full-time boarding school sounds so appealing! This is the first time I've ever been away from my parents."

"And I heard there's even a movie theater and a coffee shop on campus! It's practically a city!"

"The employment rate and the rate of students pursuing further education after graduation are both 100%, I wonder if that's really true..."

Bathed in the spring sunshine, the bus stop has become a perfect scene of youth.

— right at that moment.

Thump, a sound.

The asphalt road trembled slightly. No, it wasn't an earthquake. It was more like some kind of heavy, rhythmic thud, approaching step by step from afar, each strike precisely hitting the intervals between heartbeats.

The noise and discussion ceased in an instant.

Everyone turned around. Then, they gasped.

Approaching along the sidewalk was a gigantic, ferocious beast. —No.

It was a human. However, its posture was far too unusual.

The man was easily over 190 centimeters tall, with shoulders twice the width of an average adult, and possessed an exceptionally broad frame.

Unconventional skeletons. And muscles as thick as steel that completely cover those skeletons.

The school-issued burgundy jacket, because of his unusually well-developed latissimus dorsi and thick pectoral muscles, looked as if even the seams might burst at any moment.

Most importantly, what captivated everyone's attention was his face.

Tragic.

Like a wild brown bear that has survived being torn apart by countless sharp blades, it bears deep scars.

That sharp gaze, simply by looking ahead, created the illusion that the surrounding air had suddenly dropped to tens of degrees below zero.

(A monster...!?)

(A gangster? No, why are they wearing school uniforms...!)

(Don't come any closer... Don't look at me... Don't walk this way...)

No one could make a sound.

Humans, long ago when they were naked apes living on the tropical savanna, had the survival instinct called fear etched deep into their DNA.

Faced with overwhelming violence, small animals will only take one action.

That's playing dead.

The dozen or so freshmen in front of the bus stop silently made way for him as he stepped forward. Everyone looked away, even their breathing was suppressed to a minimum.

Only the dull thud of shoes striking the asphalt echoed eerily.

Huashan Kaoru.

The leader of the Japanese yakuza organization, the Hanayama-gumi, is also a freshman who will be attending Advanced Nurturing High School starting today.

If we rewind a little, it was when Kaoru Hanayama was nearing the end of her junior high school years.

"General. If this continues, there won't be any high schools left for students to continue their education."

In the smoky Hanayama office, Kizaki, the academic advisor and the team's strategist, held a report card in his hand and sighed deeply.

The academic record of Hanayama, presented by Kizaki, an elite yakuza graduate of the University of Tokyo, can only be described as "disastrous".

Although classmates and teachers gave Kaoru Hanayama high praise in their messages, in the evaluation system with a maximum score of 5, apart from Physical Education which was a sure thing and Japanese Literature which barely got 3 points, all other subjects were 2 points or below.

"The high schools that are currently willing to accept you, General, are all bottom-tier schools that anyone can get into just by writing down their name... No, to put it bluntly, they are just garbage schools that are like dumping grounds for delinquents."

In response to Kizaki's words, Hanayama lit a cigar without changing his expression.

"...It doesn't matter, it's the same wherever I go."

"It's different! As the leader of the Hanayama Group, if we let you, General, waste three precious years of your youth in that kind of low-level school, none of the group members, including myself, would accept it."

As Kizaki said this, he tapped the top brochure with his finger.

It was a booklet with photos of men and women in burgundy uniforms laughing happily. It belonged to a national special school that touted itself as purely meritocratic, boasting a 100% college entrance rate and employment rate.

"The only school that recognized your unconventional abilities and was willing to accept you is this one: Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School."

"...I'm not going."

Kaoru Hanayama glanced at the flyer and uttered a brief refusal.

"Why, General?"

"That place... you can't leave campus for three years, right? What will happen to the group if I leave?"

Since becoming the leader of the yakuza gang, Kaoru Hanayama's massive figure has carried the lives of hundreds of members on her shoulders. It's not something that can be simply abandoned with the excuse of "going to school."

However, Kizaki had anticipated this rejection.

"General, please leave the group's affairs to us."

At that moment, the door to the meeting room opened, and dozens of menacing-looking men who had been waiting in the office rushed in.

Then—thump!

Everyone performed a dogeza (a traditional Japanese kneeling gesture) with the air of someone about to bang their foreheads into the floor.

"General!! You don't need to worry about our affairs!!"

"Please, please, please experience a proper high school life!!"

"We will hold on no matter what, so please go with peace of mind!"

The men's rough, pleading voices echoed throughout the office.

However, what shook Huashan's resolve the most was another reason.

"...And, General, this is also about your mother's expectations."

Upon hearing Kizaki's words, Hanayama's eyebrows suddenly paused.

Huashan's mother is seriously ill, and her life could be extinguished at any moment.

Recently, however, she has shown a recovery that can only be described as a literal miracle, and has begun to gradually regain her daily routine.

"Kaoru... watching you graduate as an ordinary high school student... that's the best medicine for me."

The smiling face of a mother on her sickbed.

Those were chains that bound Hanayama Kaoru more firmly than any violence or any powerful enemy.

A mother's wish. And, the loyalty that accompanied the group members' tears.

After enduring all of this, choosing to refuse this option is not something that exists in the benevolence of the Yakuza.