All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Before the next teacher entered the classroom, Kotomi quickly called for everyone to quiet down.

If her memory served her right, this next class would be Math with Nakamori-sensei.

Nakamori-sensei’s strictness had made quite an impression on most students in less than a month. His usual workload was manageable, but if any student provoked him, the entire class would face extra assignments.

Class 1-F had suffered several rounds of increased homework this past month—everyone, that is, except for Izumi Kotomi herself.

Every time there was a homework increase for the whole class, Nakamori-sensei would specifically add, ”Everyone will have an additional page…except for Izumi.”

Not only Nakamori-sensei but other teachers, too, would remind her that she didn’t need to complete any extra assignments, just the usual amount.

At first, a few students felt indignant, thinking the teachers were playing favorites. But once the midterm scores came out, showing Kotomi ranking first in all of Tokyo, all grievances disappeared. Now, they were willing to call her Boss Izumi with full respect!

A student scoring first in Tokyo right off the bat—who wouldn’t protect someone like that?

Forget extra assignments—if any teacher could have a student like Izumi Kotomi, they’d treat her like a precious jewel.

After waiting a few minutes outside, Nakamori-sensei finally entered, smiling and noticing how Kotomi had quieted down the class.

To everyone’s surprise, Nakamori-sensei didn’t look as stern as usual. Instead, he wore an expression of delight, making him appear ten years younger, almost as if he had ”Happy” written across his face.

Did the sun rise in the west today? Nakamori-sensei, actually smiling in class?

Nakamori-sensei walked to the podium, placed his book on the desk, and smiled as he said:

”Good morning, everyone! I imagine you’ve all received your scores by now. Honestly, this midterm was quite difficult, especially in Math—even I found myself frowning at parts of it, only to realize, oh, right, I helped write some of those questions myself! So if you didn’t do as well as you hoped, it’s understandable.”

With that, most of the students’ pent-up resentment shifted squarely toward him.

No wonder the questions were so merciless! The teachers had decided on mercilessly hard questions to begin with!

Now that they knew Nakamori-sensei helped write the test, a collective mental stampede ran wild in each of their minds.

Oh, how our fists itch!

”Look, this was a first attempt, so it’s natural to feel unprepared. No matter how you did, this time around, no one’s going to hold it against you. So don’t worry—no one will bring up your scores at next week’s parent-teacher conferences. But if your midterm scores are as disappointing, well, brace yourselves for the storm!”

Although Nakamori-sensei was smiling, his words sent a chill down several students’ spines, and they subconsciously shrank back, mentally promising themselves to work harder.

After all, to avoid losing their allowance, having their phones confiscated, or tasting their parents’ belts and dusters, they needed to get serious before the midterm.

Just as the saying goes:

—I love studying; it makes my mom happy. When my mom’s happy, the whole family’s happy.

After the usual post-exam talk, Nakamori-sensei’s expression softened, and he beamed as he said:

”But I’m very pleased and proud that someone in Class F stood out in this challenging exam.

”To overcome the questions and all the competition—this, to me, defines a true achiever. As a teacher at Sobu High School, I’m honored that such talent has appeared among our first-year students. And as your math teacher, I’m especially honored that this star is from my class.

”Congratulations to Izumi Kotomi, who achieved the top score in Tokyo, the highest in her year, with a fantastic score of 1,047!”

With those words, Nakamori-sensei led the class in applause, which soon filled the room.

Kotomi, though thoroughly enjoying the attention, couldn’t help thinking that from the moment she arrived at school today, she’d been constantly showered with applause.

Though Nakamori-sensei was thrilled, he was aware that this was math class, not homeroom. After a few more compliments for Kotomi and encouragement for the other students, he picked up his chalk and began the lesson.

Kotomi, however, just a few minutes into the lesson, took out her phone and started playing Azur Lane.

Who knows if Nakamori-sensei noticed her slacking off? Either way, he’d likely pretend not to see anything for a while.

”With your scores out, you’re getting a lot more attention, Kotomi, though you already got plenty from teachers and classmates before,” said Megumi, sitting beside her, twirling her pen with practiced ease.

”It’s fine. But I do think that soon, some other homeroom teachers might approach me, asking if I’d be interested in transferring. Just imagining having to turn down all those requests to stay here in Class F feels like a hassle,” Kotomi sighed.

Anyone who heard her would think, Wow, that’s such a humblebrag! Especially those top-tier students she had outperformed.

Kotomi could practically see it: the students in Class 1-A, who’d grown used to looking down on students from other classes, finding out her score, only to watch as their expressions turned ”delightfully colorful.”

Taking advantage of Kotomi’s distraction, Megumi quickly lowered her hand, reached into Kotomi’s skirt pocket, and deftly retrieved a small recording device, which she slipped into her bag with a sigh of relief.

When Kotomi had walked past her earlier, Megumi had secretly slipped it into Kotomi’s pocket, intending to retrieve it now.

Finally, I’ll get to hear exactly what Arisu Sakayanagi said to my Kotomi, Megumi thought to herself.

Just recalling the way Arisu had acted as though she were close to Kotomi, calling her ”little Kotomi” so familiarly, Megumi felt her mood darken.

”By the way, Megumi, your midterm score is also really impressive! You got a 797—that’s better than some students in Class 1-B. Have you thought about transferring?” Kotomi asked casually.

”Not at all. I didn’t even mention the option to my mom. If I did, she’d definitely push me to switch classes, and I don’t want that,” Megumi replied without hesitation.

”Oh, I see. I guess you have your reasons. For me, I just don’t want to transfer because I wouldn’t be able to take time off as easily if I were in Class A.”

”My reasons are… numerous.”

”Eh? Not going to tell me?”

”Secret for now.”

”Pfft! Stingy!”

Kotomi pouted, acting a bit sulky as she turned away, her beautifully delicate face adorably puffed up, tempting anyone nearby to give her a playful pinch.

A smile curved at Megumi’s lips. Although she longed to gaze openly at Kotomi, full of love, her rational side reminded her that such impulses could end up hurting Kotomi.

So, as Kotomi turned her head, Megumi let her emotions overflow silently, gazing at her with warm, unspoken affection.

To me, just sitting next to you, enjoying your scent, savoring the sweetness in your breath, basking in every smile you give me is enough. You may not know this yet, but soon I’ll make sure you understand, my precious silly girl…

Megumi’s eyes sparkled with tenderness as she looked at Kotomi, her silent thoughts whispering like a love letter.

Just as expected, by the end of the day, teachers from other first-year classes had all approached Kotomi, either straightforwardly or subtly probing to see if she had any interest in transferring.

Kotomi’s answer was consistently clear.

Refuse, refuse, and refuse again.

Even the homeroom teachers of Class 1-B and 1-C approached her with offers every bit as tempting as Class 1-A’s.

The competition between the top three classes was even fiercer than outsiders could imagine. It wasn’t just the students competing intensely—homeroom teachers were also vying passionately to surpass each other.

Though they weren’t exactly at each other’s throats, the homeroom teachers of these three classes would seize any opportunity to gain an advantage and cling to it.

So, even after hearing that Kotomi had turned down Kyuukai Yachiyo of Class 1-A, the teachers from Classes B and C were undeterred, each taking turns to approach Kotomi throughout the day.

The result? Before they could get very far, Kotomi turned them down flatly.

This made the first-year teachers all begin to question their life choices.

What on earth does Shizuka Hiratsuka have that we don’t? They couldn’t understand why Kotomi was so insistent on staying in Class F. At this rate, they thought, she’d probably refuse to so much as budge an inch from her seat, let alone transfer.

As one after another pondered these existential dilemmas, only Shizuka Hiratsuka felt absolutely triumphant.

Every time she entered the teachers’ room, she was met with the envious stares of her colleagues. Of course, this made her overjoyed.

Plus, knowing that the ”Little Witch” chose to stay in Class F meant that she, as the homeroom teacher, could bask in Kotomi’s beauty during free periods without a care.

All day long, Shizuka Hiratsuka’s smile never left her face.

When her mother, Yuko Hiratsuka, called her on a video call and saw the unmistakable happiness on her daughter’s face, she thought that perhaps her hopes had finally come true—had her daughter finally found a boyfriend?

Tears of joy filled Yuko Hiratsuka’s eyes.

When Shizuka saw her mother’s emotional reaction, she hurriedly explained that her mood had nothing to do with romance, but was due to the achievements of one of her students.

The moment Yuko learned the truth, her face changed immediately.

The fists of this hopeful mother clenched in frustration.

Sensing her mother’s simmering frustration, Shizuka quickly ended the call, fearing that if she waited even a second longer, her mother’s fist might shatter the screen, cross time and space, and land squarely on her nearly-thirty-year-old face.

Just before she disconnected, Shizuka heard her mother’s furious roar, ”Next time we meet, if you don’t bring someone home, I’ll tear you apart!”

Though Yuko might not actually tear her apart, Shizuka had grown up under the ”storm of motherly love” and could tell her mother was genuinely upset this time.

Just the other day, Yuko Hiratsuka had been invited to the wedding of a high school friend’s grandson, only to find out that her friend’s grandson had already been married for years. This wedding was for her friend’s great-grandson.

That was it. Knowing her classmates were all either grandmothers or grandfathers now, some even watching their grandchildren get married—it was a breaking point for Yuko Hiratsuka.

What used to be marriage prodding every six months became monthly reminders, and now, every time she saw Shizuka, she urged her to find someone.

The bar had lowered from marriage to just finding a boyfriend. Yuko would be satisfied with just that.

”Ugh… how scary. The next time I’m supposed to have dinner with Mom is November 6th.” Shizuka took out her phone with trembling hands to check which day that fell on.

When she saw it was a Saturday, she let out a sigh of relief. Well, just a little relief.

There was still a bit of time before November, but if she didn’t bring a partner to that meal…

It might not just be a mother-daughter dinner—her mom might actually tear into her.

And just thinking about the matchmaking suggestions from her aunts and uncles during New Year’s gatherings made Shizuka rub her temples in frustration.

Should I find a fake boyfriend?

But even a fake boyfriend wasn’t easy to find. Besides, her standards had always been high. She couldn’t just settle for anyone, even in a pretend relationship.

Shizuka didn’t have many requirements in a partner, but they were challenging to meet. She wasn’t looking for someone incredibly successful—she’d be happy to work hard together with her partner. She could even accept someone much younger.

The one non-negotiable requirement, though, was that they needed to share her worldview, and she had to like their personality.

As for looks, she didn’t have high expectations there either; she only asked that they be someone she could fall for at first glance.

These standards were like a fortress wall, repelling countless suitors and leaving Shizuka single to this day without ever having been in a relationship.

Shizuka herself thought it wasn’t a big deal—she actually enjoyed her independence.

”How strange, though. When I think about it, the only person I can think of who fits these criteria is… Kotomi? No, no, my mom’s scaring me to the point of losing my mind! Kotomi’s my student, for heaven’s sake! I need to figure something out before my mother explodes.”

As she muttered to herself, a drop of cold sweat trickled down her temple.

She racked her brains, but by the end of the day, she still hadn’t come up with a solution.

On the other side, Kotomi had no idea about the mental storm Shizuka Hiratsuka had been going through. She had been comfortably napping on her desk, only to shoot up the moment the bell rang, spring-loaded from her seat, and reached for her backpack.

But then she noticed the chemistry teacher was still up at the blackboard, chalk in hand, mid-equation, with no intention of ending the lesson on time.

If anything, the teacher seemed more likely to extend the class.

Kotomi, halfway through packing up her things, stood out like a sore thumb against the quiet concentration of her classmates and the continued lecture from the chemistry teacher.

”Ah…”

Kotomi’s movement drew the attention of the entire class, including the chemistry teacher.

The teacher’s still lecturing, but here I am, standing up and packing as if I’m ready to leave… and the teacher’s watching.

Slightly embarrassed, Kotomi gave a sheepish smile, suddenly unsure whether to sit back down or keep standing.

The chemistry teacher let out a soft, exasperated chuckle. Normally, she would have reprimanded a student for something like this. But with a star student like Kotomi? She could hardly blame her.

After all, achieving the top score in Tokyo on an increasingly difficult exam showed she had every reason to feel at ease in class.

With a sigh, the chemistry teacher set down her chalk, stopped writing the equation, and addressed the class:

”Let’s wrap up for today. This material is difficult, and if I cover too much in one session, you might find it hard to absorb. Use your free time to review and reinforce what we’ve covered. Bring your questions to me tomorrow. Alright, class dismissed!”

With that, the chemistry teacher picked up her materials and left the room.

Nearly walked into the door…

”Wow, Kotomi! You actually got our chemistry teacher, the queen of overtime, to wrap up early. And by just a single minute!”

”If it weren’t for your dramatic act, she would’ve easily lectured for another half hour.”

”See? Kotomi’s the forever goddess of our class!”

”Haha… it was probably just a coincidence the teacher finished early.”

As her classmates showered her with grateful looks, Kotomi gave a bashful smile.

She grabbed her bag, said a quick goodbye to Megumi, Yukino, and Yui, and left the classroom with Mashiro Shiina to head to the art club.

She could feel curious gazes on her as she walked, but she pretended not to notice, keeping her head down.

As soon as she entered the art club, she was surrounded by club members, all eager to hear about her first-place rank in the Tokyo midterms—a story that had already spread across Sobu High.

No doubt, by tomorrow or the day after, it would reach other schools too.

”Kotomi! I only got a 430 this time. Can you help me learn how to study? In middle school, I used to get over 500,” pleaded Emi Tsujimoto, nearly in tears.

A drop in scores like Tsujimoto’s was pretty common.

Many students who did well in middle school found their grades dipping once they started high school and faced their first major exams.

Kotomi didn’t have much advice for cases like this. After all, her high scores were due entirely to the system’s learning abilities.

”Keep a steady mindset, read your materials, and practice,” Kotomi said, giving Tsujimoto an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

If anyone else had said this, Tsujimoto might have felt it was just a brush-off. But coming from the Tokyo first-place winner, it carried a whole new meaning.

Tsujimoto felt like she understood; Kotomi’s high scores must stem from a calm, collected attitude, while she herself had been overly cautious, too afraid to make mistakes.

Feeling enlightened, Emi Tsujimoto looked gratefully at Kotomi.

”Thank you, Kotomi! I think I finally get it now. From this moment on, no one will understand the right exam mindset better than I do!”

Kotomi wasn’t sure what Tsujimoto had imagined, but as long as she’d found her motivation, Kotomi smiled back encouragingly.

”Yes, yes, go for it! Aim for a high score in the midterms!”

After answering a few more questions, Kotomi finally found a free moment to sit down and lift the cover on her unfinished painting.

Looking at the partially completed canvas, she smiled genuinely.

There was just a bit left to go.

By next week, it would be done!

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