Practical Classroom: Kaoru Hanayama's Classroom of Merit

"Splash!"

The sound of waves crashing against the shore now feels strangely distant.

(...Calm down.)

With her back to the sea, Horikita Suzune gripped the hem of her tracksuit tightly and took slow, deep breaths.

She desperately tried to use the power of reason to suppress her wildly beating heart.

Horikita is not a superficial person who judges people based on appearances alone.

Kaoru Hanayama is not someone who can be categorized as a delinquent high school student.

She had already vaguely sensed this from the moment she witnessed his abnormal violence and intimidating presence.

In the library on a day off, or in the classroom after school.

During the time she taught him mathematics using the peculiar logic unique to yakuza groups, the inference that he belonged to the underworld had almost become a certainty in her mind.

That's why she wasn't at all surprised when he said "I am Yakuza".

However, what the brain understands and what one actually witnesses are two completely different dimensions.

(That... isn't your average tattoo.)

The vibrant patterns that completely cover the back, and the figure gazing up at the sky on its back, already possess a striking power.

But what truly shook Horikita's rationality were the numerous knife and gunshot wounds that seemed to tear the pattern apart.

That was definitely not a cheap item engraved to follow trends or intimidate others.

That is the embodiment of true "karma," which is only allowed to be worn by those who have survived countless brushes with death and in the mire of violence and bloodshed.

To say that there was absolutely no fear would be a lie.

Logically speaking, that person should definitely be the most dangerous person who shouldn't be involved.

However, while feeling fear, her rational mind was also telling her:

So what?

(Even when there was no personal gain involved, he acted for the class. And no matter how strict my teaching methods were, wasn't he still clumsily and diligently taking notes?)

Regardless of the past, regardless of the demons or monsters I carry on my back.

The man who has gone into the sea to gather food on this deserted island is undoubtedly her classmate.

"……call."

After exhaling a long, heavy breath, his slightly trembling fingertips finally regained their composure.

Treating him as an ordinary, mentally challenged student is the most reasonable way to deal with him.

Just then.

boom!!

"What...!?"

A deep, rumbling sound, unlike anything I'd ever heard before, came from the sea behind us.

Horikita almost turned around reflexively, but worried that she might see that back again, she tensed her neck and stopped in place.

(What is he doing...? Could he have run into a shark again?)

Although she had heard rumors of sharks being hunted on luxury cruise ships, she had not seen it with her own eyes at the time.

Mixed with the sound of waves, the rough, splashing footsteps were approaching from the shallows.

"Horikita, that's enough."

From behind came Huashan's deep and calm voice, which was no different from usual.

Horikita took one last deep breath, put on an expression as if nothing had happened, and turned around with her usual slightly indifferent demeanor.

There was Huashan, who had roughly dried his soaked body and had already buttoned up his clothes.

The tattoo was completely hidden under the white suit.

He was holding two plump fish, each probably around 80 centimeters long.

"...You really did bring the fish back empty-handed?"

Horikita's gaze wasn't on Hanayama's face, but rather fixed on the limp fish dangling from his hand.

Strangely, the fish had no wounds from being pierced by harpoons, nor any marks from being rubbed by nets.

It just looked like he had fainted with his eyes rolled back.

"We just happened to run into a group of decent-sized ones."

Huashan casually fiddled with his wet hair and said nonchalantly.

"I just threw a punch in the sea. These guys just floated up belly up on their own. Much faster than using a net."

“…………”

Horikita was so shocked that he couldn't say a word.

But since he now indeed has two unharmed fish in his hands, then that must be true.

Adding to the shock of the tattoo, Horikita's brain was almost overloaded again.

"...Hey you, do you even realize how utterly illogical your words are? Creating a shockwave with your bare hands to stun a fish? Where did you come from, a human torpedo? If students from other classes saw this, they'd definitely keep their distance."

"I haven't done anything that would bother anyone if they saw it."

Huashan seemed completely unconcerned, and took out cigarettes from his suit pocket.

"Big principles are fine, whatever they may be. With this, Sakura should be able to eat at least a little bit."

Hearing those slightly rude but genuinely caring words, Horikita sighed softly.

(...As expected. He hasn't changed at all.)

No matter how gruesome the tattoo on his back is, no matter how extraordinary the violence is.

This concern for avoiding hurting others, and this clumsy attitude of acting for the sake of her companions, is exactly what she has seen in "Kaoru Hanayama" over the past few months.

"Yeah, that's true. Sakura-san should be able to eat grilled white fish with salt, right? ...Let's go."

Horikita quickened his pace slightly and walked alongside Hanayama.

Although she wasn't looking in his direction, her steps were much lighter and more determined than when she was facing the sea earlier.