The Wild Pigeon

The Japanese Literature teacher, bald in the middle as ever, held a book in one hand and paced down the aisle in his leather shoes, hands clasped behind his back.

But that wasn't what Mikage Touji was concerned about right now...

The month-long conduct examination had ended, which meant students could afford to slack off a little in class. That gave someone the perfect opportunity to strike.

At that moment, Mikage Touji sat in his chair with a dark expression. Ever since the previous class, he had been under constant attack from eraser crumbs launched from behind him.

Morishita Ran!

How dare you be the first to break the "Mikage-Morishita Friendly Non-Aggression Pact"? This was more than ordinary arrogance. You had to be hit back hard!

"A will is something read after its author has passed away. It can have a profound impact on the reader." The Japanese Literature teacher walked past their desks.

But there was a problem: Morishita Ran sat behind Mikage Touji. He couldn't just turn around and attack her.

Morishita Ran, meanwhile, occupied the high ground and could launch an attack at any moment. It was like a commanding position on an ancient battlefield, or a natural barrier—easy to defend, difficult to attack!

Damn it! She's shorter than me, so why does she sit behind me while I'm stuck in front?!

"Thunk~"

A barely audible sound came from above Mikage Touji's head. Eraser crumbs slipped through the gap between his collar and neck and fell down his back.

I've had enough!

Mikage Touji decisively turned around and appealed to his potential ally.

His ally was taking notes. Her pale-gold hair fell over her temples, covering half of her delicate profile and giving her the beauty of a woman glimpsed behind a half-drawn curtain.

Shiraishi Asuka noticed the signal Mikage Touji sent her. She gently tucked her hair behind her ear, tilted her head, and looked at him with eyes that seemed to speak.

Need something?

Help me, Mother Shiraishi!

Sure...

You really are a god! Shiro-Gate...

With one ally secured, Mikage Touji's fighting strength surged. The tide of battle had turned, and he was now on the offensive.

But Morishita Ran was no pushover. She had clearly noticed the two of them communicating, and her vigilance had increased.

"I have never told anyone about this. If I've kept it from even you, then naturally I haven't told my relatives. I haven't even been honest with my wife." At the far end of the classroom, the Japanese Literature teacher began walking toward them.

Now wasn't the time to start a fight.

Both sides realized this at once and tacitly began ramping up their logistical preparations.

Shiraishi Asuka turned slightly to one side, propped her chin on one hand, and watched the two of them. With the other, she tapped the desk rhythmically with her slender fingers.

Morishita Ran pretended to focus on her textbook, but her hands were busy doing something under the desk. Her naturally expressionless face was the perfect cover.

Mikage Touji held up his textbook to hide half his face. He silently calculated the trajectory of the coming fight while discreetly preparing his secret weapon.

Everyone understood that the Japanese Literature teacher's next pass by their seats would be the signal for battle!

"This sentence captures the loneliness he carries, his secretive nature, and his deepest 'regret.'"

The Japanese Literature teacher's voice grew solemn, and he walked past the aisle between the three of them with an unchanged expression.

The instant the three of them entered the Japanese Literature teacher's blind spot!

Take this!

With blinding speed, Morishita Ran pulled a makeshift slingshot from her desk drawer, assembled from a pen, tape, and a rubber band. She had also added a "bottle cap" barrel, dramatically increasing the number of shots she could fire.

With a whoosh, eraser crumbs flew toward Mikage Touji like falling flowers scattered by a heavenly maiden.

A cold glint flashed in Mikage Touji's eyes, and a sneer curled his lips. I knew you'd try that.

He quickly raised his textbook behind his head like a shield and blocked the entire attack.

Then he lowered the book, turned around, and prepared to strike back!

But in just a few seconds, Morishita Ran had reloaded and unleashed another shower of eraser crumbs.

Morishita Ran, masaka!

Mikage Touji stared in shock at the smug glint in Morishita Ran's eyes.

Kisama-sama! Had she prepared a bottle cap for each batch of eraser crumbs, so she could just switch to the next one after firing?

Mikage Touji let out a long sigh. Since you're so merciless, hitting me with a saturation attack, don't blame me for showing no mercy and using an energy weapon!

Let's destroy each other!

Mikage Touji decisively pulled out the energy-refraction device he had borrowed from his ally—a mirror. The afternoon sunlight reflected off it and straight into Morishita Ran's face.

Take this—Solar Beam!

"He cannot share this burden with the person closest to him, the one who will be by his side for the rest of his life. It speaks to the depth of his guilt, and how painful it is to keep bearing that guilt." The Japanese Literature teacher's voice remained heavy with sorrow.

This silent war had unfolded in the span of just a few seconds.

But both of them had forgotten one thing: once a war began, it couldn't be stopped by people alone.

This was a battle of pride to the death!

For a time, a world-shaking clash between kinetic and energy weapons unfolded in the lower-left corner of Class A's classroom, grinding even a corner of the Great Path away.

"Ding~ Ding~"

The dismissal bell rang right on time.

In the lower-left corner of Class A, two figures lay slumped over the same desk, one face-down and the other on her back.

They were probably dead.

"Mikage Touji," Morishita Ran lay face-down on the desk with her eyes shut, her long lashes damp. "Let's call a temporary ceasefire and sign a new 'Morishita-Mikage Friendly Non-Aggression Treaty.'"

"This level of fighting has already exceeded what we can handle."

Mikage Touji rested his head on Morishita Ran's desk, staring blankly at a white patch on the ceiling. Eraser crumbs kept falling off him from time to time.

"You want to sign a new 'Mikage-Morishita Friendly Non-Aggression Pact'? Sure. First, pay the penalty for breaking the agreement."

"It's the 'Morishita-Mikage Friendly Non-Aggression Treaty'! I'll buy you dinner once."

"Fine, on the condition that the treaty clearly says 'Mikage-Morishita Friendly Non-Aggression Pact.'"

"Then there's nothing to discuss?"

"...All right, we'll each make a concession. The agreement's name stays as it is. Two dinners, and I get to pick the restaurant."

Morishita Ran reached out with her eyes still shut and felt along the desk until she found Mikage Touji's head. Then she held out her hand.

"Don't take me to that western restaurant from last time. It was a huge hassle."

Mikage Touji reached upward, felt around, and took Morishita Ran's hand.

"Deal!"

On the thirty-first day of the Mikage-Morishita Calendar, peace returned to the world once more with the signing of the third "Mikage-Morishita (Morishita-Mikage) Friendly Treaty"...

Wild Pigeon

After school, the sun began to sink below the horizon.

Golden rays painted the layered waves. With a long, deep whooshing sound, they rolled in from afar toward the coast of Advanced Nurturing, crashing against the breakwater and turning into sprays of snowy white foam. Salty droplets scattered through the air.

The clear cries of a few seagulls occasionally cut through the roar, mingling with the sound of the waves.

An undeveloped patch of land lay in the southeastern corner of Advanced Nurturing. Few students came there, and over time it had become a place where animals gathered.

Mikage Touji sat on a bench with the bread he hadn't finished eating that day. He rubbed it between his fingers, scattering crumbs to the ground like snowflakes.

Nearby pigeons tucked in their wings, lowered their heads, and bobbed them forward and back as they hurried toward Mikage Touji's feet in tiny steps, cautiously pecking at the bread crumbs.

Mikage Touji sat perfectly still, his eyes fixed on one particularly plump pigeon.

That's right! He hadn't lied to Ichinose Honami. This pigeon really existed!

He had been coming here to feed the pigeons a lot these past few days. The reason was that when he had used Detection some time ago, he had faintly sensed the simple emotions of these animals.

For example, the one eating fastest at his feet was probably happy, with a hint of cunning.

The one ambling around his feet was probably relaxed and carefree.

The ones flapping their wings and circling low in the sky were wary and curious.

But this plump pigeon was different. It had "wise" eyes and often tilted its head to look at Mikage Touji with one eye, its gaze dull and vacant.

And the emotions it showed were far richer than ordinary.

Mikage Touji could even vaguely tell what it meant when it cooed.

For instance, right now, it was probably saying, "Is this human a bit of a dummy or what..."

Mikage Touji's smile gradually faded.

The plump pigeon kept cooing, standing calmly in place. "Why did he stop smiling? Did he not think that was funny..."

"..."

Hold it in. He had to find a way to tame this one-in-a-million king of pigeons, then show it off to Morishita and Yamamura.

He had already picked out a name for it: Wild Pigeon.

Mikage Touji held a blank expression as he poured the bread crumbs into his palm and held it out to the pigeon. He made a soft kissing sound, trying to lure it over.

In response, he got a plump white behind.

"..."

Mikage Touji forced himself to keep his face straight and took a deep breath.

Hold it in. Hold it in. Pokémon had taught him that the rarer the creature, the harder it was to catch—and the more valuable it was. How did the protagonist in those Pokémon novels catch Pokémon?

He forced a smile and asked kindly, "What kind of food do you like?"

The plump pigeon spread one wing, turned its head, and pecked at its body twice. "What kind of bird language is he speaking? Why do humans keep talking to pigeons? Do they think pigeons can understand them? Sigh... They must be crazy..."

"..."

Mikage Touji considered using a Master Ball—otherwise known as a butterfly net—to scoop it up and take it home, then slowly tame it.

In the end.

Mikage Touji, exhausted in body and mind, tried every trick he could think of but still failed to catch the pigeon's attention. The plump pigeon flapped its wings and flew off with a flutter.

Before leaving, it even thanked the silly human for giving it a free buffet and said it would remember him.

Mikage Touji clenched his teeth and pinched his thigh, barely managing not to grab it in a chokehold and take it home on the spot.

He patted his palm to shake off the remaining crumbs, then stood up in a huff and strode toward the school building.

He and the pigeon probably just didn't have a strong enough bond yet. If he fed it for a while longer, it would recognize him as its master, and then he could slowly settle the score for everything that had happened before.

Otherwise, if he forced it, what if it couldn't MAGA-evolve later?

He'd be the one losing out, wouldn't he?

It was an animal rarer than one in a million—no, one in a hundred thousand might not even be enough. He had been using his skill to search all over Kouiku these past few days, and he had only seen this one.

Mikage Touji muttered to himself as he walked along the school path with both hands in his pockets, fuming.

A figure stood in his way up ahead.

Mikage Touji paid him no mind and moved to the side, but the figure shifted too, blocking his path again.

"?"

It was a boy wearing glasses, his face calm. He wasn't very tall, probably around 170 centimeters, and his uniform was neat and tidy, making him look serious and meticulous.

Mikage Touji tentatively stretched out his long leg and took a big step to the side.

"..."

The figure adjusted his glasses. Since his legs were a little shorter than Mikage Touji's, he took two steps to cover the same distance.

"Who are you?"

Once he confirmed that the boy was here to see him, Mikage Touji—already furious over the pigeon—wasn't in much of a mood to be polite.

"Nagumo was right. You really are different." The man raised his head and met Mikage Touji's gaze. His sharp eyes and steady voice carried a hint of authority.

"I'm Horikita Manabu, the Student Council President."