If one fails to pay the price when it is due, the debt will be carried forward into the future.

Jinguuji Tsuki wanted to complain—he was the student council president, after all, and the homeroom bell had already rung, yet here he was, dawdling at the school gate.
But every time he saw Hoshinomori Hoshino walking with Sakurakouji Sakura, he would feel a strange, inexplicable anxiety fluttering in his chest.
“Good morning, Yagami, Jinguuji.”
Hoshinomori Hoshino approached with a bright smile, greeting them both.
Jinguuji Tsuki glanced at Sakurakouji Sakura beside her and echoed the greeting.
“How did your first day inspecting go?”
“Utterly dreadful! I’m seriously getting mad at those upperclassmen,” Yagami You protested at once, voicing her extreme dissatisfaction with the second and third-year students.
Whether or not they wore ties, put on makeup, or wore earrings—these were trivial things. The real issue was that everyone came over, staring at her in curiosity, asking if she was a lost middle schooler. It nearly drove Yagami You up the wall.
While Yagami You was venting her grievances to Hoshinomori Hoshino, Jinguuji Tsuki had already fallen in step beside Sakurakouji Sakura, asking how the two of them ended up coming to school together.
Sakurakouji Sakura simply said they’d met by chance on the slope and decided to walk together. Still, it seemed they had deliberately kept their distance to observe, and naturally, they had witnessed the scene between Jinguuji Tsuki and his classmate Iwasaki.
Changing into indoor shoes, they headed up to the second floor. Once Sakurakouji Sakura and Jinguuji Tsuki parted ways and entered the classroom from the front and back doors, the previously noisy hubbub dissipated at once.
As Jinguuji Tsuki walked step by step toward his window seat, the classroom atmosphere grew tense, as if he were entering the final boss chamber in an RPG.
Even without keen hearing, the people in the class made no attempt to suppress their discussion.
It was always the same: suspicion that Jinguuji Tsuki used underhanded means to join the student council, with Hoshinomori Hoshino included in the mockery for good measure. Right or wrong didn’t matter—it was all about the entertainment value.
Jinguuji Tsuki pretended not to hear, gazing wordlessly at the drifting white clouds outside the window.
Perhaps there are those who don’t care how badly they themselves are slandered, but the moment their friends are insulted, they burn with righteous fury—a hot-blooded, sunny boy.
If this were a manga, such a character would be the one always talking about “friends” and “bonds”—the protagonist of the story.
But Jinguuji Tsuki knew his own place well: he was nothing more than a liar, a scoundrel.
A shounen manga, founded on “friendship,” “effort,” and “victory,” would never choose someone like him to be its hero.
And in a story of delicate, beautiful romance, a character like him would serve only as the foil to highlight the protagonist’s depth of feeling, no matter how smooth his start; in the end, he would always be discarded by the heroine.
So, even when he heard the vile things said about Hoshinomori Hoshino, the boy simply sat quietly in his chair, wearing that nauseating, indifferent expression, as if he couldn’t care less.
He thought, if it were his former self—Jinguuji Tsuki before he got the system—
If he heard someone slander the girl beside him like that, he would have angrily pinned that person to the ground, clenched his fists, and pounded their nose until they begged for forgiveness.
Back then, Jinguuji Tsuki was probably sincere at heart—he didn’t know how to hide things, couldn’t tell a lie, straightforward to the point of foolishness.
But now, looking at his current self, there was little difference between him and a puddle of stagnant seawater dumped onto sun-scorched asphalt.
Just pretend he didn’t hear anything.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, a sudden, jarring sound came from the front row.
The noise drew everyone’s eyes, including Jinguuji Tsuki’s.
A girl with a side ponytail stood up in silence, walked to the podium, and picked up the textbook she’d thrown to the floor.
Feeling the entire class’s gaze on her, Sakurakouji Sakura was silent for a while, then scratched her head with a sheepish grin.
“Ahaha—math is just too confusing, I swear, I got so frustrated that I dropped my book without realizing it…”
After a few seconds of quiet, several classmates who knew her well burst into laughter.
“Oh, I thought you’d finally lost it, Sakura!”
“If you’re stuck, I can help you during lunch.”
“Really? Thank you!”
“Hey, the teacher’s coming.”
“Sakurakouji, what are you doing standing there? Hurry up and take your seat, homeroom is about to start.”
Sakurakouji Sakura stuck out her tongue with a grin, her gaze sweeping over the boy by the window in the back, then silently picked up her math book and returned to her seat.
…
…
At lunchtime, Jinguuji Tsuki headed to the old school building. The student council room was empty, so he sprawled on the sofa for a nap.
The aroma diffuser the principal had brought last week sat on the desk, its scent soothing him to sleep in no time.
What woke Jinguuji Tsuki was the sensation of someone playing with his bangs. Opening his eyes, he saw a round, rosy, adorable face, those bright big eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Puhuhu—Senpai, you’re such a lazybones, sleeping like a little pig.”
“What little pig?”
The sudden voice startled the girl, making her jump back several steps, arms raised defensively as she eyed the slowly rising Jinguuji Tsuki.
He took out his phone, checked his reflection in the front camera, then turned off the screen with a blank face and sighed.
“Yagami.”
“…Yes?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“It’s not that I’m bored or anything, but you looked so comfy sleeping, I just couldn’t help myself…”
Even with her big, pitiful eyes blinking up at him, looking just like a squirrel whose nest had been swept away by winter floods, with nowhere to go, Jinguuji Tsuki had no intention of being soft on her.
“Take them off.”
“If I come over now, you won’t hit me?” Yagami You carefully tested the waters.
“Before I change my mind.”
“Okay!”
Once Yagami You had removed all seventeen or eighteen of the pink hair clips from his head, clearly angling for a reward,
Jinguuji Tsuki immediately revealed his ugly Tokyo side, stretching out his deceitful hand, taking a shallow breath, and pinching the crown of the girl’s head. Her wailing echoed throughout the old school building.
“What’s going on? I heard Yagami’s screams all the way down the hall. This isn’t the kind of weird play the student council room is meant for, you know.”
The door swung open, and the student council president, Hoshinomori Hoshino, entered, shooting a curious glance at Yagami You and Jinguuji Tsuki.
“Jinguuji, I’ve told you many times, violence isn’t the answer.”
“I swear, this time it was all her fault.” Jinguuji Tsuki pointed to the girl rolling on the sofa.
Hoshinomori Hoshino began to assess the situation.
The boy still looked half asleep, his hair a wild mess, while a pile of cute, feminine hair clips sat on the coffee table. Hoshinomori Hoshino immediately pieced together most of the story.
“Yagami, it’s very rude to disturb someone’s nap.”
“…Ugh, I know I was wrong.”
Hoshinomori Hoshino shook her head, clearly used to these antics, then handed over the documents in her hand and got down to business.
“These are the schedule and event list for the sports festival. This afternoon during homeroom, the teachers will be discussing it with each class.
“While the student council isn’t in charge of organizing the festival, as president, I hope our members can set a good example.
“I don’t expect you to win anything impressive, just that you sign up for events and help boost morale.”
“Eh—sports festival.” Yagami You swung her legs restlessly, flipping the document back and forth.
“If I remember correctly, you’re pretty good at sports, aren’t you, Yagami?” Hoshinomori Hoshino said.
“Well… I’m average. I was in a sports club in junior high, trained every day except for the last semester of my third year, but I’ve slacked off since starting high school.”
Jinguuji Tsuki said nothing, skimming the document and only noting the individual events, automatically ignoring anything that required teamwork.
Given his physical ability, winning some individual events wouldn’t be hard for him, but he disliked drawing attention.
By the rules, every student had to sign up for at least one event, regardless of year. If Hoshinomori Hoshino hadn’t said as much, Jinguuji Tsuki would have drifted through the ball toss, keeping himself entirely in the background.
As for three-legged races or cavalry battles, those were never going to include the ostracized Jinguuji.
“Has the president decided which events you’ll join?” Yagami You suddenly asked.
“Well, I’m not very athletic, but as student council president, I can’t embarrass myself in front of you juniors.
“And this is also my last sports festival as a high school student. I don’t want any regrets, so I signed up for every event I could.”
“Wow!”
Yagami You clapped her hands in admiration. “No wonder you’re the president. You easily do things I never could—it’s so inspiring, it makes me want to bow down!”
Jinguuji Tsuki shot her a look, ignoring his over-animated junior.
“In any case, think about what you’d like to do for the festival. There’s still time, and if you really don’t want to join anything, I won’t force you. Just remember, the school rules say you have to sign up for at least one event.”
That last part was clearly aimed at Jinguuji Tsuki.
“Understood, Sergeant!” Yagami You saluted for no reason.

“I got it.”
On the way back from the student council room to the new school building, Yagami You skipped along.
“Hey, Jinguuji-senpai.”
“What is it?”
“If you can’t find anyone to join the festival with you, you can be my horse in the cavalry battle—ow, ow, ow—”
Jinguuji Tsuki released her head and said calmly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ugh, I mean the cavalry battle!”
“I’m a second-year boy. If I take part in the first-year girls’ cavalry battle, wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”
“Oh.”
A moment later—
“Then I’ll enter the second-year boys’ cavalry battle. I’m not embarrassed.”
Jinguuji Tsuki sucked in a sharp breath, staring at the little creature beside him in disbelief.
Was she actually a genius?
In any case, he set aside the cavalry battle for now. With ten minutes left before lunch break ended, Jinguuji Tsuki returned to the 2-A classroom.
In the past, Jinguuji Tsuki felt his classmates treated him like a faceless commuter on a crowded train—completely invisible.
But lately, he sensed he was being watched more and more.
Weren’t they supposed to pretend he didn’t exist? If this kept up, someone might just snap.
Well… obviously not.
In any case, Jinguuji Tsuki maintained his usual aloofness, never starting conversations, and rarely did anyone approach him.
This had become his daily routine. Ever since Ms. Aoyama left the school, he’d been treated as invisible by the class.
Perhaps this showed how much his classmates liked Ms. Aoyama as a teacher—Jinguuji Tsuki could only come up with such a clumsy explanation.
The first class of the afternoon was classical literature. Jinguuji Tsuki barely paid attention, but no one cared.
The classical literature teacher, Mr. Tanaka, was a middle-aged man, stern and rigid, with darting, beady eyes—especially frightening when he scolded people.
Most students didn’t like Tanaka.
He figured, compared to the gentle and beautiful Ms. Aoyama, anyone would prefer her, so they projected their disappointment onto Tanaka.
Actually, Jinguuji Tsuki didn’t mind Tanaka—at least Tanaka let him daydream during class.
Ms. Aoyama never would.
When she taught classical literature for 2-A, every time Jinguuji Tsuki spaced out, she’d throw a piece of chalk at his head.
If he dared dodge, she’d stomp down from the podium, and when the others weren’t looking, she’d secretly tug his ear.
Jinguuji Tsuki thought, that was less like teaching, and more like flirting.
Whenever he thought of that teacher, Jinguuji Tsuki’s heart grew heavy, as if shrouded by endless rainclouds.
He didn’t regret it, nor did he believe his actions counted as “saving” anyone. He completed the system’s tasks, all while fantasizing that he could still be a good person.
He imagined that if he didn’t hurt her, he could somehow rescue her.
But he had clearly overestimated himself. Kindness—that was the word farthest from him.
The more he dwelled on it, the more he realized—this was arrogance.
And arrogance, without the strength to match, always demands a price.
If you don’t pay it when it’s due, the debt only grows, to be collected in the future.
Better, then, to abandon these three years of high school, pin his hopes on a distant future—that, he could endure.
After all, it was only ostracism at school.
Compared to what she would face in life, anyone would call it a good bargain.