342 Is This the Strongest in Tokyo?
It felt like she had been floating in the clouds since birth, carried by wings, her bare feet never once touching the ground—a true angel.
For the first time in her life, the genius Yukinoshita Yukino witnessed what studying was like for ordinary people.
Katou-san... is really dumb.
No, that wasn't right. She's just... not that bright.
Actually—no, that wasn't quite it either. She's simply not a genius.
It was rude, but she couldn't help thinking it.
Of course, this wasn't because Katou Megumi had vaguely questioned her abilities before the tutoring session began. No, not at all. It was purely because Yukino had no friends and had never seen how regular people studied.
Like a stranger walking into a restaurant and checking out what others were eating, she found herself observing her surroundings, mimicking Hojou Kyousuke's teaching methods.
Isn't this basically the same as my plan of memorizing every question?
I could totally use this strategy when I tutor in Japanese later!
Meanwhile, Katou Megumi had no idea what sort of terrifying thoughts the girl beside her was brewing.
She was simply enjoying Hojou's tutoring with genuine joy.
His clear, vibrant voice was a far cry from the droning lullabies of their school teachers.
His dynamic tone kept her fully engaged, start to finish.
If she knew what Yukino was really thinking, Megumi might've dragged Kyousuke into a dramatic duel right there—a battle not just for superiority, but for the right to tutor her.
Only the victor could be her guide.
Kyousuke, for his part, didn't spare Yukino another glance.
He was completely absorbed in the eager, sparkling gaze Megumi gave him—a hunger for knowledge he rarely saw, and certainly not when he was tutoring Eriri.
That idiot always blamed her poor grades on him.
"It's all your fault!" she'd whine. "I can't focus because you're here!"
But the moment he offered to leave so she could study alone, she'd bare her little fang and yell,
"Heartless jerk! Cold-blooded scumbag! You trying to run away from your responsibilities!?"
Still, to her credit—even if she wasn't as obedient as Megumi—Eriri never threw her textbooks into the trash or gave up.
She'd just turn her golden curls into a bird's nest while furiously tackling problems.
Sure, she was a fool.
But a tenacious, determined one.
You could tell just by how her obsession with drawing had ruined her eyesight.
The joyful tutoring session only lasted about thirty minutes before it was cut short by Yukino's gentle voice.
The table was now filled with food.
Technically speaking, Yukinoshita and Katou were guests—but clearly, no one was treating them that way.
As always, it was communal dining.
While Kyousuke fought Eriri for the TV remote, Naoka was already thundering up the stairs to bang on Yamauchi Sakura's door and drag her and Mitsuha down for dinner.
"Awwww~ Hojou-nii's not cooking tonight? Booo~"
Yotsuba whispered beside him with disappointment—but it didn't last.
Her eyes lit up in the next instant.
Because the one cooking was her best friend: Yukino Yukari.
"Ahh, I missed this! Yukari's tempura! Yukari's grilled fish! Yukari's rice balls! Yukino's—"
She stared at the spread on the table, already drooling as she listed each dish.
A few minutes later, Sakura and Mitsuha came downstairs, arms linked like sisters in matching loungewear, looking every bit the close-knit pair.
Kyousuke found himself flanked by Yotsuba and his two new underlings.
So Sakura cheerfully pulled Mitsuha and Megumi over to sit beside her.
Kyousuke usually followed the old-school rule of no talking while eating, keeping quiet even with an empty mouth.
He liked to say, "Meals are the closest we get to heaven." (Mainly to trick others into letting him eat in peace.)
But with this many people, total silence would've made poor Eriri's nerves snap. She'd probably chew each bite 500 times in terror.
Not that Kyousuke had to initiate anything—Sakura had already started showering Yukari with over-the-top praise for the food, with Yotsuba as her enthusiastic hype girl.
Sakura gushed about how green the stir-fried veggies looked.
Yotsuba chimed in, "Like springtime!"
Sakura praised the perfect texture of the rice.
Yotsuba added, "Just like a smart rice cooker!"
Sakura—
Eventually, their nonsense hit Yukari's limit.
The strictest and most refined of them all, she wasn't about to let Sakura run the show forever.
Knowing Sakura hated being lectured, Yukari launched into a full-blown lecture—on the history and evolution of rice cookers.
It was super effective.
Yotsuba immediately put her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please, Master, no more…"
But Sakura's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
She looked just as eager as Megumi did earlier.
"Tell me more! Just a bit more—I love hearing this stuff!"
She didn't like reading, sure.
But if she wanted to win a future argument about cooking, she needed ammo.
Next time someone told her, "You can't praise cooking done by a rice cooker," she'd throw out Yukari's expert facts and silence them.
She didn't always understand what Yukari said—but she loved how smart it sounded.
Kyousuke remained silent, not because he was uninterested, but because his mouth was too full to talk.
No matter who sat next to him, his bowl always mysteriously refilled with food.
Back when Eriri lived at home, she'd shamelessly pile food into his bowl in front of her parents, giving some excuse about "not wasting food." Nowadays, she just barked, "Eat it!"
Today, though, Kyousuke noticed the pace had picked up even more.
Halfway through the meal, he realized Katou—sitting next to Yotsuba—was subtly feeding him like a stealthy ninja.
If it were someone shy or with a small appetite, they might've eaten until they burst without even realizing it.
Kyousuke gave her a smile, then wordlessly returned the favor—plopping a big chunk of meat into her bowl.
"Eat up! If you bulk up like a sumo wrestler, I guarantee you'll never be overlooked again!" he joked.
The bob-haired girl didn't respond—but her chopsticks sped up.
Now even Yotsuba's bowl was mysteriously overflowing.
The girl thought it was a loving gesture from Yukari or Hojou-nii and gleefully stuffed her cheeks.
As for her sister…
That idiot probably knew exactly how many grains of rice were in her bowl by now.
"Mitsuha, you okay? Stomachache?"
Kyousuke glanced at her.
She'd been quietly stirring her rice, head down.
He didn't bother asking if the food wasn't to her taste—he knew how easy she was to please.
Ordinary home cooking was her favorite, and even now, a simple chocolate cake could make her day.
"Mm-hmm~"
She looked up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, forcing a smile across her pale face.
Kyousuke's eyes flickered.
He was just about to say something when—
"C'mon, eat up! Yukari worked super hard on this after hearing you and Yotsuba were coming."
Sakura abandoned Yukari and plopped a big pile of ginger pork into Mitsuha's bowl.
"If you keep making that face, you'll ruin my appetite," Mitsuha muttered, glancing helplessly at Sakura.
"Finish all your meat! If you want to chase a happy life, you can't skip meals, Mitsuha!" Sakura declared with the air of a wise sage.
"Maybe save the philosophical life advice for after dinner? You're the one who's eaten the least so far," Naoka muttered.
At her words, everyone glanced at Sakura's bowl—almost untouched.
And just like that, as if responding to a signal, five or six pairs of chopsticks lunged toward her food all at once.
"Nooo!!" Sakura yelped, instantly clutching her bowl and shoveling rice into her mouth in a panic.
Dinner, movies, chatting…
As the sky darkened and stars circled the moon, Yukinoshita and Katou had already changed back into their school uniforms.
"Ehhhh~ Come on, Megumi, stay over tonight too~~ This is my once-in-a-lifetime request!"
Sakura clung to her hand, shaking it like a child throwing a tantrum.
She didn't leave out Mitsuha and Yukino either, turning to them with the same "once-in-a-lifetime" request.
"I wouldn't mind, but if I don't go home for two days in a row, my parents will worry," Megumi replied with a gentle smile, her voice as soft as ever—but firm.
Unlike her, Yukinoshita visibly flinched when she heard the "once-in-a-lifetime" line.
Mitsuha's expression was also hard to read.
"All right, everyone, give me your addresses. I'll take you home," Kyousuke appeared from the storage room with three middle school girls in tow.
The room was packed with gifts from publishers and merch companies, and the three girls were each carrying loads of items like little mules.
True to his "everyone gets a share" policy, Kyousuke had prepared bags for Mitsuha, Megumi, and Yukino too.
Outside the dorm, a black company van was already parked by the entrance.
Kisaki's efficiency was second to none—he'd only mentioned this morning that they needed new company vehicles, and by evening, it had arrived.
The driver? Hirata of course.
Why? Simple.
Not only was he the best driver in the company, but he could also fight.
To drive for the boss, you needed to survive blood and fire.
Today, when the new van arrived, the younger guys in the company all fought over the driver's seat.
They knew the boss had a big household—meaning the van would be in demand.
But this was Hirata.
The Right Fist of the Handless Demon.
He flattened all of them with one punch each—like casually picking his nose.
"Hirata, what happened to your face?"
Under the dorm's bright porch light, Kyousuke immediately noticed Hirata's bruised, swollen left eye.
"Thanks for your concern, Boss! I just tripped and fell!" Hirata shouted energetically.
"Onto someone's fist?" someone quipped with a grin.
"That's right!"
His voice grew even more spirited, making the two quirky girls, Kayo and Sachiko, itch to try it themselves.
"Will that affect your driving?"
Kyousuke didn't press the issue. He knew exactly what kind of men he had under him—restless unless they got into at least two fights a day.
"Not at all!" Hirata declared, pounding his chest.
He forced his eye wide open, and in the dim light, his battered face looked positively monstrous.
Yukino had heard rumors about Hojou Kyousuke—the most violent delinquent in Tokyo—and she knew he had plenty of underlings at school.
But only now, staring at the terrifying man in a black suit behind the wheel, did she truly understand what "Handless Demon" meant.
If even the driver was this scary, how terrifying must Kyousuke's hidden side be—the one who commanded these people?
In that moment, a certain quote from Sakura came to mind:
"Aren't we all blooming together in the spring breeze?"
Here, at the Ruyi Dorm, before girls like Sakura, Kyousuke was a warm spring breeze.
But in the world beneath the light, he must be the biting winter wind.
"All right, get in."
Instead of letting Hirata open the door, Kyousuke pulled it open himself, gesturing for the girls to board.
Sakura didn't try to stop them anymore.
Instead, she cheerfully said, "Yukino, Megumi—don't forget to watch the awards show tomorrow! Kyousuke and I will be on TV~~!"
Yotsuba and her two friends were the most excited, not the least bit intimidated by the fierce-looking driver.
They scrambled into the van and made a beeline for the back row, where they huddled together and started whispering conspiratorially.
Yukino glanced at the other two, then quietly took a seat by herself.
The van pulled away from the luxury residential area and merged onto Route 437.
By logic, Mitsuha should've been dropped off first since she lived the farthest.
But Kyousuke wasn't quite ready to part ways with her, and Yotsuba insisted on seeing her friends home first.
So ironically, the first to arrive home was Katou Megumi, whose house was just a short distance away in Kami-Ikebukuro 3-chome.
Kyousuke got out from the passenger seat, opened the door, and offered his hand to help her down.
"If you see any writers you like on TV tomorrow, text me. I'll get you an autograph," he said with a smile.
"Mmm, but actually~ I haven't read that many books. And the authors I like—I've already got all their signed copies~"
Megumi tilted her head, face upturned.
Under the streetlight, her black eyes shimmered with soft halos of light, quietly enchanting.
"I see... then I'll bring you a souvenir instead," Kyousuke replied, blinking in surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so into book signings.
"Thanks~ That'd be nice."
She said it lightly, but in her heart, Megumi knew—
The most valuable souvenir wouldn't be coming to her.
"Well, see you later then."
"Mm… huh?"
She nodded, about to say something more—
When suddenly, the front door of her house opened.
And the girl who could smile through the apocalypse instantly snapped into action.
Without a word, she yanked the passenger door open and shoved Kyousuke back inside.
"Safe travels! See you tomorrow!"
Leaving that line behind, she turned and dashed through the gate into her front yard without even a glance back.
"Huh? Mom? Where are you going so late?" Her voice was light and breezy, as if nothing had happened.
Just like Sakura said—when it comes to battles, strike first.
Megumi had learned this well from her sister.
Whenever her sister stayed out late and came home to find their mom still up watching TV, she'd immediately scold her with:
"Geez, Mom, still watching TV this late? Women your age shouldn't stay up—you'll wake up with wrinkles exploding across your face like fireworks!"
Megumi had always marveled at her sister's cunning and took mental notes of these "every girl will need this someday" tactics.
"Miss. Kyoko next door said she needed help with something. I'm just going to check,"
Megumi's mother, Tomoko, was startled by her daughter's sudden voice.
She'd been so focused on staring at the black luxury van that she hadn't even noticed Megumi's return.
"Auntie Kyoko again? Did she make too much kimchi?" Megumi asked playfully, rolling with it.
"Probably. That's about the only thing she can make," Tomoko chuckled, completely overlooking how her daughter had appeared out of nowhere or what that giant bag she was carrying was.
"Don't be out too long, okay?"
The girl offered a gentle reminder.
"Mm, don't worry," her mother replied with a smile.
———————————————————————
And just like that, a potential late-night "interrogation" vanished without a trace.
Swinging her arms lightly, Katou Megumi skipped into the house.
She casually informed her dad, who was still watching TV, that Mom had gone next door.
Then she headed back to her room.
She stripped off her school uniform and stood in front of her full-length mirror wearing nothing but a white cotton camisole and shorts, hesitating for a couple of seconds before cheerfully deciding to leave the laundry for tomorrow.
After changing into a pink-and-white striped sleep dress, her first instinct was to flop onto the bed and scroll through her phone.
But then her eyes landed on the big gift bag Hojou had given her, still sitting on the floor.
She opened it and took out the figures—Saitama-sensei, Genos, Mitsuha, and others—then carefully arranged them on the empty spots on her bookshelf.
It was a small bookshelf, mostly filled with study guides.
The few non-school-related books were fashion and beauty magazines—how to dress, how to do makeup, that sort of thing.
But this semester, something had changed.
Now there were manga, novels, even DVDs sitting on the shelves.
All related to Hojou Kyousuke's works.
Some she bought herself.
Others he gave to her. But to Megumi, those were two entirely different things.
A signed book, gifted personally by a famous writer—how could that not be special?
Megumi had never imagined she'd experience something like this. And with that special "buff" of his signature and message, she had genuinely grown to love his stories.
She pulled out a copy of The Devotion of Suspect X and opened to the title page. There, in Hojou's handwriting, was a personal inscription:
"The true meaning of 'ordinary' isn't being average or common—it's about being connected."
She'd repeated that line in her mind countless times—millions, probably. And every time, it stirred something deep in her heart.
Like a rushing current.
Like something trying to sprout from within.
It itched—made her want to press her hand against her chest and scratch at the feeling.
She didn't know if she'd truly grasped the meaning of that sentence. And she had no plans to ask Hojou what it meant, either.
She knew that whatever was budding inside her—if she kept nurturing it gently—it would one day grow into something towering and impossible to ignore.
For most people, just meeting the creator of a story they loved would be enough of a miracle.
But she had more than that.
She had a personal inscription.
She had tutoring from a genius after school.
Hngh…
She could feel it now. Just a tiny bit…
She was starting to get a little carried away.
Leaning back in her chair, Megumi stared up at the ceiling.
Her eyes landed on the lamp above her, its cover painted with a blue boat sailing under a crescent moon.
She'd planned to take out her notes and review the things Hojou had taught her earlier—but instead, she grabbed her phone, snapped a photo of the new figures on her bookshelf, and sent it to the family group chat.
Sure enough, not even two seconds passed before her cousin Katou Keiichi replied with a ridiculously long voice message.
Since her mom was over at Aunt Kyoko's, no one would be knocking on her door to disturb her tonight.
She casually ignored a call from her sister, switched her phone to silent mode, and turned on her desk lamp.
It was time to study.
She might be just an average, cute girl—but if she added "idiot" on top of that, wouldn't that make her not average anymore?
She couldn't let Yukinoshita-san look down on her.
Even the calmest, most composed girls have their own little prides. Their own tiny sparks of defiance.
Her "ordinary" meant that no matter where she went, no matter the situation, she could always stay right in the middle.
Right now, in her second year at Toyogasaki Academy—middle of the pack.
Next year, in her final year of high school—still middle.
When she applied to college, she'd aim for a top-tier school—but among those top-tier applicants, she'd still be solidly in the middle.
"The true meaning of 'ordinary' isn't being average or common—it's about being connected."
Don't forget that line, Megumi.
She'd never heard Hojou say it out loud.
But even so, in her heart, she could hear his voice saying it clearly.
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