Classroom of the Elite, I Also Want to Be a Good Person

Aoyama continued to walk forward with a triumphant smile, still wearing his mask of composure.

Seeing this, Sakura pouted and followed closely by his side, sticking to him like a shadow.

"Are there really such cute girls among the first-years?"

"Vice President Aoyama is as dashing as ever."

"Do you guys know who that cute girl is?"

With the handsome man and the cute girl walking toward Keyaki Mall together, they drew the gazes of countless students.

Compared to the widely known Aoyama, the nameless, cute girl who seemed to have popped out of nowhere attracted even more attention.

"That's Yamauchi, the one they call one of the Three Idiots of Class D, isn't it?"

Because of Aoyama's intervention, most first-year students had extra pocket money, so many went to Keyaki Mall on Sunday, including the Three Idiots from Class D.

At this moment, Yamauchi was staring at Aoyama with envy, jealousy, and hatred.

"Aoyama-kun... I'm not very good at dealing with him."

"He even spread rumors that I confessed to him and he rejected me; that is completely baseless."

Avoiding eye contact with Yamauchi, Sakura gripped Aoyama's right wrist tightly with both hands, her tone very serious.

"Even if you didn't tell me, Sakura, I would be absolutely certain it was a lie," Aoyama replied with equal seriousness.

He knew Sakura was worried he might misunderstand, fearing he would actually believe she liked a freak like Yamauchi and had been rejected after confessing.

In the hierarchy of girls' social standing, even just being confessed to by Yamauchi was a negative point, let alone confessing to him and being rejected—that could practically be considered bullying.

The mere act of confessing to Yamauchi could be classified as bullying; among the oddballs of Class D, Yamauchi was in a league of his own.

"If you want, Sakura, I can make Yamauchi apologize for the rumors and clarify the truth in front of everyone."

As long as he found some random guy to provoke Yamauchi's competitive nature, Aoyama was certain Yamauchi would repeat his old trick, bragging about how a girl had confessed to him and been rejected.

Once he recorded that, he would have ironclad proof.

If he wanted to be ruthless, it wouldn't be hard for Aoyama to engineer Yamauchi's expulsion.

After all, unlike smart people, someone like Yamauchi who lacked a shred of brainpower could be lured into violating school rules without much effort.

"I... I don't really want to draw attention to myself. Besides, getting a classmate expelled would sour the class atmosphere, and we might even lose class points."

"If class points are deducted, Horikita-san might hate you, Aoyama-kun."

Even Sakura could see how obsessed Horikita Suzune was with class points.

"I've already prepared myself to be hated by Suzune." Aoyama ignored Yamauchi and continued walking. "But since you still want to keep that dowdy disguise, I won't force you."

As someone influenced by 21st-century internet culture, he hated people who made decisions for others under the guise of "doing it for their own good."

Therefore, he usually followed his friends' wishes, unless there was something to be gained.

"I'm sorry, Aoyama-kun." Like a wilted eggplant, Sakura lowered her head.

In her heart, she wanted to ask about the relationship between Horikita and Aoyama, and why he was prepared to be hated by her.

But given the atmosphere, Aoyama would likely only answer her first question at most.

"There's nothing to apologize for."

Answering casually, Aoyama and Sakura finally arrived at the digital store.

The shop was filled with numerous cameras, yet only one staff member was on duty.

After all, the consumers were primarily students, and few students would spend a large sum of money on a camera when their phones could generally satisfy their photography needs.

"Aoyama-kun—"

The moment they stepped into the store, Sakura hugged Aoyama's arm and pressed against him.

The F-cup softness sealed his right arm firmly between two mountains, without a sliver of space left.

Chapter 60: Fishing

"Does he disgust or scare you?" Aoyama stared directly at the sleazy-looking middle-aged man in the digital store.

With a rat-like face and a short, stout build, his eyes were turbid and even more repulsive than a street thug's; he was the kind of man any girl would find lecherous just by his gaze.

His very existence was enough to make one feel uncomfortable.

"A little..."

"If he were one of your fans, Sakura, would you think the same?"

Under the murderous glare of the sleazy clerk, Aoyama grabbed the end of Sakura's ponytail and gently stroked the fiery red strands.

For the first time, he saw blatant disgust on Sakura's face.

Unlike the frequent annoyance she showed toward Kamuro, this was clear, heartfelt revulsion.

"Eh?! My fans?"

Not expecting Aoyama to suddenly say something that sounded like a reproach, Sakura's body stiffened, her expression becoming lost and bewildered, leaving her to instinctively hug Aoyama's arm even tighter.

"Yes, an idol's fans. Although it sounds a bit harsh, there are quite a few people like that among them."

In Japan, idols are a concrete profession, not some vague concept like "he's good at basketball so he's my idol."

For a modest sum of money, one can purchase a product like a handshake ticket to shake hands with their favorite professional idol.

Pay a little more, and you can even pose for intimate photos in specific positions.

"Smiling while holding the hand of someone like that and offering encouragement—that is the basic requirement of a professional idol. Can you do it?"

In his chats with Sakura, Aoyama learned that she was well-protected by her manager, so she had considered returning to being an idol after graduation if she couldn't find anything else she wanted to do.

"For the time being... I suppose I can't."

"Actually, the answer I'd rather hear is, 'I wouldn't do something so disgusting.'"

Regardless of how you spin it, being a professional idol—a job that relies on one's youth—is hardly a good career path.

"Whatever I say next, just pretend to agree." Without waiting for an answer from the bewildered Sakura, Aoyama led her toward the shop clerk.

Manipulating an extremist, fanatical "brain-dead" fan is not difficult at all.

Just get it done.

"The screen is half-black. Could you take a look and see if it can be repaired? The warranty card is right here."

With an intimate air, Aoyama opened the bag hanging on Sakura, took out the broken camera and the warranty card, and placed them both on the glass counter.

"Yes, let me see."

The man picked up the camera with both hands, his face tight as he suppressed his anger to begin the inspection.

After a while, he gave his verdict that it could be repaired, then handed the repair form, which required the customer's information, to Sakura, who had shrunk back to Aoyama's side.

"This is my camera." Aoyama looked calmly at the man, who seemed to be harboring some expectations.

"Impossible. I was the one who sold it to this student at the time; I remember it clearly."

A flash of anger crossed his face as the middle-aged man, wearing a name tag that read Kusuda, retorted.

"What's hers is mine, and even she herself is mine."

Aoyama's lips curled into a smirk as he stroked Sakura's delicate, smooth cheek and buried his face in her hair to take a breath.

A pleasant, soothing fragrance filled his nose.

"Isn't that right, my dear girlfriend?"

"Mm..."

Sakura, whose face had been full of worry and confusion, saw her expression instantly shift into immense joy and shyness.

Her voice was soft and weak, like the whimpering of a kitten, making her look incredibly endearing.

"Understand now, old man Kusuda?" Aoyama turned his head and sent a look of contempt toward the man, who was struggling to suppress his emotions and wearing a jealous expression.

"I... I understand--"

Answering with a hint of gritted teeth, Kusuda very reluctantly handed the repair form to Aoyama.

With a look of disgust, Aoyama pinched the form with his fingertips and placed it on the table, then began filling in his own room number and phone number.

"Meet at Palette Cafe at eight tonight. We're going to stroll by the beach tonight and do some things lovers do."

After finishing the form and leaving it on the table, Aoyama draped his arm frivolously around Sakura's shoulder and led her straight out of the shop.

Even without seeing the man's face behind him, he could imagine just how much anger and jealousy the man was feeling.

If they weren't in public, the possibility of the man flying into a rage and starting a fight would not have been low.

"Understood, I'll prepare well." Clutching the corner of Aoyama's shirt, Sakura leaned her entire body against him.

Looking every bit like a couple, the two left the man's persistent, lingering gaze.

Afterward, they went to a cake shop that had good reviews among students.

"Aoyama seems to really like cake."

By the time the cake was served, Sakura had basically returned to a state of calm.

Watching Aoyama tuck in with a look of pleasure on his face, she couldn't help but temporarily cast aside her worries and offer a smile.

"Sweets are justice." After swallowing a mouthful of fluffy, sweet cake, Aoyama declared with conviction.

Whether in his past life or this one, he had always been a lover of sweets, especially favoring fluffy cakes with a moderate level of sweetness; he wished every day of the 365 days in a year could be his birthday.

"That's nice. I don't really dare to eat too much."

After placing her small hand under the table to pinch her own stomach, Sakura's expression suddenly turned somewhat dim.

She remembered what Aoyama had said when they entered the digital shop; clearly, Aoyama didn't seem to like professional idols.

"Does Aoyama hate idols?"

"If you're asking if I like or hate them, the answer is neither." Aoyama scraped the cream off the plate. "But in terms of career paths, I don't recommend it, because the competition is fierce and you have to do things you hate."

"I'd rather perform a trapeze act than hold the hand of an old man like that and genuinely encourage him."

"...That's true." Sakura, her mood somewhat clouded, nodded with a wry face. "But what does 'trapeze act' mean?"

"A trapeze act, as the name implies---"

Aoyama chuckled playfully, then his right index and middle fingers transformed into little figures, hopping across the tabletop until they reached the edge.

With a sudden leap, the little figures vanished from the desk.

"That's so like Aoyama."

Sakura gave a bitter smile, then shifted the topic, bringing up why Aoyama had pretended to be her boyfriend at the cafe.

Not knowing that the middle-aged waiter was her fanatic fan, she couldn't fathom why Aoyama would do such a thing.

Though, she was quite happy about it herself.

Even knowing it was a pretense, Sakura's heart overflowed with happiness, especially when the warmth of Aoyama's body was transmitted to her.

She was so happy she wished time could have stopped at that very moment.

"I was fishing. The way that guy was looking at you, Sakura, was not right, so I wanted to test him."

"Then, is the date at the beach tonight real too?"

Compared to how Aoyama was fishing, what Sakura wanted to know right now was whether that was true or not.

If it were real, she would be able to feel Aoyama's warmth even more.

"To fish, one must cast bait. I'll be counting on you then." Aoyama patted Sakura's head, his tone incredibly gentle.

He wasn't Jiang Taigong, after all; he hadn't reached the level where fish would willingly jump onto his hook.

Chapter 61: Honestly, it's quite smooth

A white short-sleeved shirt and light gray knee-length shorts.

Dressed in a refreshing outfit and ready to fish, Aoyama arrived at Palette Cafe.

A beauty with ice-blue eyes and a pale pink long skirt swaying in the breeze was being hit on by an upperclassman.

"She already has a companion and is not in a state to accept any advances."

Naturally walking up to Sakura's side, Aoyama skillfully took her hand while she was in a flustered state, even interlocking his fingers with hers.