Practical Classroom: Kaoru Hanayama's Classroom of Merit

A comprehensive hospital located in Tokyo, surrounded by lush greenery.

After crossing the asphalt road marked with white lines, Huashan entered the hospital site.

Huashan was about to walk towards the ward when he stopped in his tracks because of the words of a nurse he passed by.

"If you're looking for Mrs. Hanayama, she's in the courtyard right now. She seems to be in very good spirits lately and is doing walking exercises little by little."

Upon hearing this, Huashan unconsciously quickened his pace slightly.

In the early summer, the courtyard is bathed in sunlight, with paths winding between the green lawn and brightly colored flowerbeds.

There, there was the silhouette of a woman pushing a wheelchair, slowly moving forward step by step on her own two feet.

"Mom."

Huashan called out briefly to that retreating figure.

The woman turned around. Although the pallor characteristic of someone recovering from a serious illness still lingered on her face, the despairing weakness she had once felt had vanished, replaced by a tangible vitality.

"Kaoru..."

A gentle, yet radiant smile bloomed on the mother's face.

Huashan stepped forward and gently placed his hand on the handle of the wheelchair.

His enormous hands did not hinder his mother's walking rhythm at all; they simply supported her weight quietly.

Don't push yourself. Take it slow.

"Hmm, it's okay. I've been feeling really light lately. More importantly... school? Today should be a school day, right?"

"I greeted the chairman and managed to free up some time."

The mother didn't press further; she understood her son's position better than anyone else.

The two walked side by side for a while in the sunlight filtering through the leaves.

Soon after, they arrived at the bench in the courtyard. After her mother slowly sat down, Hanayama sat down next to her.

"...Take a look at this."

Huashan took out his carefully preserved midterm exam paper from his pocket.

Mathematics: 42 points. Modern Chinese: 45 points. English: 47 points.

This is definitely not a score to be praised.

Ordinary parents would probably sigh; it's just a list of numbers that barely pass the minimum requirement.

However, Huashan placed those wrinkled answer sheets on his mother's lap with a proud, slightly boastful gesture.

"We avoided failing any subject."

That statement revealed a simple and pure sense of accomplishment that would never be expressed when conducting transactions involving hundreds of millions of dollars or lives in the underworld.

With trembling hands, the mother picked up the answer sheet.

The pencil marks were deep, and there were also several marks from erasing.

The sheer clumsiness with which he gripped the mechanical pencil, facing the desk, is evident even from the texture of the paper itself.

"...You've worked really hard, Kaoru."

A tear fell from the mother's eye.

Those weren't tears of sadness, but tears of deep gratitude for his son being able to experience the normalcy of youth—"toiling away on his studies, feeling joy and sorrow over exam scores"—just like other children.

"There's one more."

Huashan then took out the group photo that included all the members of Class C.

No one feared him as a gang leader.

They are imperfect, immature high school students, and within that circle, there truly exists Kaoru Hanayama.

"These are the guys in my class."

The mother brought the photo close to her face, gazing intently at each face.

"Everyone here has a nice face. You are, and so are your friends."

"...I'm not good at making friends."

Huashan slightly shifted his gaze and gave a short hum.

"I'm so glad. Really. I'm so glad you can be a good high school student."

The mother held the photo tightly to her chest.

His son, a typical high school student, was surrounded by his classmates in a sunny spot.

That fact became a more effective remedy than anything else, healing her heart, and Huashan quietly watched over all of this.

After taking his mother back to her ward and confirming that she had begun to breathe steadily and peacefully in her sleep, Huashan left the ward.

Walking down the clean, white corridor, a tall man wearing a white coat walked towards me.

The man with swaying red hair and walking with confident strides was none other than Kaho Momiji, the new attending physician for Hanayama's mother.

Huashan stopped and bowed deeply to the side of the corridor.

"Dr. Gao, I can never thank you enough for saving my mother's life. The Hanayama Group will definitely repay this kindness."

Faced with the profound gratitude from the pinnacle of the path, Hao did not stop. He simply raised the corners of his mouth slightly and waved his hand gently.

"Heh, don't worry about it. With the most advanced medical equipment and my skills, that kind of surgery is a piece of cake. Besides—"

As Hao passed by, he muttered something in a voice only Hanayama could hear.

"If you want to express your gratitude, go tell Lord Tokugawa. I received an exceptional medical fee from him in advance, enough to live a life of leisure. I simply completed my job."

Watching the genius doctor's back as he flipped up his white coat and left, Huashan quietly let out a sigh of relief.

(...I really can't hold my head up high in front of that old man.)

That afternoon.

Hanayama visited the Tokugawa Residence, a traditional Japanese house located in Tokyo with a large area.

In the meticulously maintained dry landscape garden, a startled deer makes a crisp "click" sound.

In the newly introduced tatami-floored Japanese-style room, a petite elderly woman sat on a cushion, sipping tea with relish.

"Oh, Hanayama! You've come at the right time. Well, have a seat."

Hanayama carefully entered the room without stepping on the threshold of the tatami room, folded his huge body up as if he were sitting upright on the tatami, and bowed his head deeply.

"Lord Tokugawa, I am truly sorry for causing you so much trouble this time, from my mother's treatment to the advanced education school enrollment arrangements..."

"Cheers! Let's skip those lifeless pleasantries! It would be best if your mother's health improved."

Tokugawa laughed it off and fanned himself with the folding fan he was holding.

Huashan raised his head, maintained his posture, and continued speaking.

"...There's another thing. When I left the school, the chairman of the board, Sakayanagi, asked me to pass on a message."

"Who was that again? Never mind, what did he say?"

"He hopes to get more funding and that someone can help with issues at the school; that's roughly the gist of it."

Tokugawa grinned, his smile deepening.

"I see. Since it was you who asked, I'll make the necessary arrangements."

"Thank you for your kindness."

"Clang! I told you, this is nothing but a trivial matter!"

Tokugawa took a sip of tea, and deep in his eyes shone the brilliant light unique to those who love to fight.

"Compared to that, Hanayama. Soaking in the school's lukewarm waters, your body hasn't rusted, has it? I'm really looking forward to it. Sooner or later, I'll see your fists once again stain the sand of that underground arena red with your heroic figure!"

Huashan remained silent, slowly clenching his enormous fist.

The dull thud of joints grinding together echoed in the quiet room.

Feeling the pressure of that fist, Tokugawa nodded repeatedly with a satisfied expression.

This proves that the monster, Kaoru Hanayama, has not lost his fangs at all.