My thumb slides over the smooth, cold glass of my smartphone screen. The classroom hums with the low, chaotic noise of teenagers forming their social cliques. Chairs scrape against the floor. Someone laughs loudly near the windows.
I guess it is about time.
Under the cover of my desk, I press the red circular icon on the screen. The digital timer starts ticking upward. Zero minutes and one second. Zero minutes and two seconds.
I press the power button to darken the screen and smoothly slide the device deep into my right trouser pocket. The fabric of my uniform pants completely conceals the shape.
This girl's goal is to be friends with anyone. It is just a matter of time before she approaches me.
I do not like her.
A shadow falls over the scratched wood of my desk, blocking out the harsh afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall glass panes.
"You're Tal-kun, right?" she asked, her voice carrying a sweet, melodic pitch. "I'm Kushida Kikyou."
I do not hate her, either. Her personality is fine for me, purely as a functional element of this environment. She acts as a social hub, a massive router of information and secrets.
I look up from the empty surface of my desk.
Kushida Kikyou stands there. She wears her standard, perfectly tailored red uniform blazer. Her beige hair frames her face in soft, calculated waves.
Her smile reaches all the way to her eyes and projects a warm, harmless aura that completely disarms the average high school boy.
"I'm surprised," I say, keeping my voice flat and casual. "You can pronounce my name in my great grandpa's native language."
Of course she can. She probably practiced pronouncing my name in front of a mirror last night. That is the sheer, terrifying dedication of her social strategy.
"Yes," Kushida replies. She brings her hands together and clasps them neatly in front of her skirt. "My goal is to be friends with everyone. So it is only natural for me to pronounce your name properly. Did I do it wrong?"
Why her?
"Your pronunciation was correct," I reply as I shift my weight slightly in my hard plastic chair. " I see. You want to be friends with me, is that what you want to say?"
I know very well this girl's craving. She starves for validation and trust.
"Yes," Kushida says. She tilts her head slightly to the left and exposes the slender line of her neck. "Is that okay?"
She is using her charm. She knows boys are weak to that specific, helpless angle.
Very clever.
It is a biological exploit which triggers a protective instinct in the male brain.
"I guess I'll accept," I say as I offer a small, practiced smile of my own. "I'll be your friend."
I need this girl to execute my plan that's why I need to make her my pawn in this game.
"Really?" Kushida cheers cheerfully. Her eyes widen in genuine-looking excitement, her shoulders bouncing slightly.
It is easy to manipulate other people. I even tried in my previous life using Ayanokouji's method. You just have to offer them exactly what their core psychological defect demands.
"Yes," I say while holding up a single finger. "But there is one condition."
Kushida's eyes widen a fraction more. The bubbly energy radiating from her body freezes for a split second.
"What condition?" she asks. Her voice drops a quarter of an octave.
Her mask is very impressive. I watch her face intensely but I do not notice her eyes twitch even a single millimeter.
Most people, when hit with an unexpected boundary, show a micro-expression of annoyance or fear. She just displays polite curiosity.
"I'll be your friend if you let me call you by your first name," I say.
Calling someone by their first name signals intimacy. A very close friend. I can use this to make Ike listen to everything I will say. He is a pawn, too.
If Ike hears me casually dropping Kushida's first name, his jealousy will force him to respect my social standing. He will think I possess some secret charm.
Kushida thinks for a while. She brings her right hand up and put her index finger under her soft pink lips. It is a highly manufactured pose of contemplation.
"Okay," Kushida says as she nods slowly. "I accept, but only if you let me call you Mikhail-kun."
"Nah," I counter immediately. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. "I want you to drop the honorifics entirely. No 'kun'. No 'san'. Just Mikhail."
By us calling each other's first name without any polite barriers, it will override her brain, subconsciously tricking her into thinking of me as a genuine fixture in her life rather than an acquaintance.
Kushida blinks. The request breaks the standard etiquette of Japanese high school society.
"I accept... Mikhail," Kushida says, tasting the word on her tongue.
That response is expected. She wants to be friends with anyone so she will bend her own rules to secure a new connection.
"Give me your phone," I say, uncrossing my arms and holding my right hand out, palm up. "I will add my contact info so that we can talk whenever we want."
"That's a good idea," Kushida smiles again.
She reaches into her blazer pocket and pulls out a sleek, white smartphone and unlocks the screen with a quick thumb swipe. She hands the device over to me.
I take her phone. The screen displays a blank contact entry form.
It may look like I am simply adding my contact number to her phone, but my real objective is entirely different. I swipe a finger across the bottom edge of her screen and pulls up the background application carousel.
I quickly scan the running processes. I check the top notification bar for any red microphone icons. I need to check whether she is recording our conversation right now.
I can never let my guard down in front of her.
The background processes are clean.
She is not recording.
I tap my contact info into the keypad on the screen, save the contact under the name 'Mikhail', and lock the screen. I handed the white phone back to her.