"[excited]Is it curry today? How many servings can I have?" The classroom fell silent. It was Monday of the final week in September. Misora Municipal Capsule Middle School, Class 2-3. The moment their homeroom teacher, Morino-sensei, finished writing "Son Goku Kakarotto" on the blackboard, a smell drifted in from the hallway and ruined everything. The smell of curry. From the cafeteria kitchen, unmistakably, curry. All 32 students turned to stare at the transfer student. Kakarotto kept smiling, his gaze fixed straight on Morino-sensei. Morino-sensei was a woman in her thirties with glasses and a gentle-looking face. Like a Japanese teacher should be, she chose her words carefully and was usually composed. But right now, her expression was subtly twitching. "…Could you continue your self-introduction a bit more?" A brief silence. "[whispers]You won't continue, will you?" The teacher muttered softly and pulled a white tablet from her pocket. Antacid. She swallowed it dry. Several students in the class looked off into the distance. Kakarotto tilted his head. His black, messy hair swayed gently. He was about 165 centimeters tall. His build was sturdy, with broad shoulders for a middle schooler. He wore the black high-collared uniform, though the top button was somehow slightly loose. His bright brown eyes darted around the classroom, then returned to the teacher. His smile never wavered. He just kept grinning. "[gentle]Um, I'm Kakarotto. Nice to meet you!" That was all he said before bowing his head slightly. Self-introduction, done. Morino-sensei swallowed another antacid tablet. --- "Your seat is…the last row by the window. I'll show you." The far end of the classroom, the very back by the window. As Kakarotto walked that way, a girl sitting two rows ahead in the middle seat flinched. Chichi. Her long, deep green hair was neatly arranged. Calm gray eyes. She was about 160 centimeters tall and wore her sailor uniform perfectly. Third in the grade academically. Her dream was to become a doctor. You could tell just by looking at her. Right now, her face was completely red. (He came…he came, he came, he came!) Something pounded fiercely in her chest. Chichi gripped the notebook on her desk tightly. Kakarotto had been her childhood friend since elementary school. They grew up in the same neighborhood, lived just three houses apart, and walked to and from school together every day. She'd liked him since third grade. Six years. She'd tried to confess fourteen times, and failed fourteen times. Something always got in the way. Rain would fall, Kakarotto would trip, a classmate would interrupt. But today was different. They ended up in the same class again at the new school. This had to be fate. She was absolutely going to tell him today. (This time for sure…!) Kakarotto reached his seat. Diagonally behind Chichi. The distance between them, less than a meter. "[excited]Chichi! Long time no see! You've gotten bigger!" "[surprised]Huh…ah, u-um! Long time…!" Her face felt like it was burning. Her voice trembled. Six years of feelings were crammed tight in her throat. Now, say it now, this is the only chance— "[excited]By the way, it's curry today, right? How many servings do you think I can go?" Chichi's thoughts stopped. Kakarotto continued with sparkling eyes. At his old school he managed eight servings on curry day, he'd heard the portions here were bigger, and there was this person named Yamada in the kitchen who was really nice. Under her desk, Chichi slowly made a fist. The fifteenth failure was quietly beginning. --- "[cold]Don't come near my seat. You're in the way." A low, short voice. Just as Kakarotto was about to sit down, the voice came flying from the aisle side of the front row. When he turned, there was a man with dark navy hair. Sharp-looking, spiky hair. Burning red eyes. About 173 centimeters tall—tall for a second-year middle schooler. Arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, completely irritated expression. First in the grade, Bejīta. The guy who'd chosen the seat closest to the blackboard for himself. That's what the student next to him had quietly told them. "[gentle]Come on, Bejīta. It's the first day." Kuririn poked his face out from the side. Light blue round-shaved head. Warm golden eyes. About 168 centimeters—not much different from Kakarotto's height. His face was smiling softly. He always had that kind of face. Reading the room, trying to smooth things over. That was the first impression. "[angry]You're in the way too." Kuririn froze for a moment. Kakarotto looked straight at Bejīta, then smiled brightly. "[gentle]Bejīta's your name? That's a cool name." The class fell silent again. Bejīta's eyebrow twitched. His red eyes widened slightly, and then a blush slowly crept across his cheeks. "[angry]T-that's not the point!" He turned forward with a red face and said nothing more. Kuririn whispered to Kakarotto in a small voice. "[whispers]You really said that." "[gentle]Huh? I really thought it was cool." Kuririn gave a wry smile. Outside the hallway, the smell of curry from the cafeteria kitchen grew even stronger. --- Lunch break. The cafeteria kitchen at Capsule Middle School was on the west side of the first floor. Yamada, the cooking supervisor who made 500 meals a day, was happily arranging fresh curry today. Kakarotto came back for seconds three minutes after finishing his first bowl. Second serving. Third serving. "[excited]Delicious! Incredibly delicious!" Fourth, fifth. "[laughing]You really eat, don't you!" Yamada was a woman in her fifties with a sturdy build and a hearty laugh. Watching Kakarotto's eyes light up every time he came back for more, her face gradually brightened. Sixth serving. "[laughing]Our ace! Our ace finally came!" Seventh, eighth. By the time Kakarotto had polished off eight servings of curry, Chichi was waiting in the hallway. "…Hey. I need to talk to you." She kept her voice as calm as possible. Her face was probably red. She straightened her back and looked at Kakarotto with gray eyes. Kakarotto turned around. Still smiling. (Now's the time) Chichi's mouth was about to open—right at that moment— "[excited]Sorry! I'm gonna ask Yamada if I can do a ninth serving!" He ran off. Chichi was left alone in the hallway. She stood there for a while. Through the hallway window, she could see the green of Komoreby Hills. The sky was blue. The September wind was a little cool. Chichi slowly leaned her back against the wall and slid down to sit. (…Fifteenth failure too) She whispered in a voice no one could hear. --- After school. At the shoe lockers, Kakarotto was taking off his indoor shoes. "They wouldn't let me have a ninth serving today," he muttered to himself while casually changing into his outdoor shoes. "[angry]You really don't understand people's feelings at all! You're the worst!" At the sudden voice, Kakarotto looked up. Chichi was standing there. Her gray eyes were slightly red now. Her voice was shaking. But she was looking straight at Kakarotto. Anyone could tell she was angry. "[surprised]Huh? Did I do something?" He genuinely looked confused. He tilted his head, his black messy hair swaying, his brown eyes wide, looking straight at Chichi. (He doesn't get it. He really doesn't understand anything) Chichi's throat tightened. She couldn't tell if she was angry or sad anymore. Six years of something, all mixed up into a mess. "[angry]…You're the worst." She said it just one more time and walked outside. Kakarotto stood in front of the shoe lockers for a while. (What did I do wrong?) He really didn't understand. He'd eaten eight servings of curry. They wouldn't let him have a ninth. Chichi had called out to him. He'd run to the kitchen. Chichi got angry. He couldn't understand where or what had gone wrong. The wind blew, and the door in front of the shoe lockers rattled. Kakarotto went outside anyway. He just started walking. (I'll ask her about it tomorrow) He wasn't the type to worry deeply about things. That was who Kakarotto was. --- On the roof, Kuririn was alone. It was technically off-limits. But almost every student in the class knew you could get up there via the emergency stairs. Kuririn leaned against the metal railing, looking down at the school building below. The evening wind touched his light blue shaved head. His golden eyes were quiet. The direction where Chichi had been yelling earlier. Near the shoe lockers. Neither of them were visible anymore. (Chichi was…) Something caught in his chest. He couldn't quite put it into words. Ever since they were at the old school, he'd been aware of Chichi. Every time he saw her talking next to Kakarotto, his eyes would drift that way without him even noticing. He loved Kakarotto. He really did, as a friend. But because of Kakarotto, Chichi had a face like she was about to cry. Kuririn lowered his gaze and gripped the edge of the railing tightly. "[whispers]…I want to protect her." No one was listening. Only the wind heard. The sky over Misora City slowly turned orange. The sun sank toward Komoreby Hills. To the south of the hills was Komoreby Park, and from there to the Hayase River, Misora City's dusk slowly spread out. Kuririn stayed there for a while. He didn't decide anything. He just stood there, watching the sunset. --- On his way home, Kakarotto passed in front of the restaurant "Mogu Mogu-tei." It was an old restaurant at the edge of Hayase-dori shopping street. The owner, Tatsuo, called out "Welcome!" with his sturdy build. The Mogu Mogu set came with a large bowl of rice and three side dishes for 650 yen. He'd researched it before transferring and already liked the place. But today he walked past it. For some reason, Chichi wouldn't leave his mind. He still didn't understand what he'd done wrong. But he remembered her eyes were red. (Tomorrow…I'll ask her properly) When he got home, his grandpa would probably be preparing dinner. There were two commercial-sized refrigerators, and grandpa always made a lot. What would it be today? Kakarotto scratched his messy head a little and walked through the Higashioka residential area. Anyway, today had been his first day as a transfer student. He'd eaten eight servings of curry. He'd gotten into it with a guy with a cool name. Chichi had gotten angry at him. It had been eventful, he thought. The evening wind rustled his uniform. The edge of the sky was already completely dark.