Tokyo: Idol Girls have absolutely no bad intentions!

"Speak, what is it?" Takikawa casually flipped through the textbooks between the two of them, pretending to be nonchalant.

The thin textbook seemed weak in Takikawa's hands.

Is it really possible to say this now? Ito expressed doubt.

It won't turn into another situation where the beautiful white kitten is toying with poor Tom.

"Stop dawdling..." Takikawa's tone turned unfriendly. "Are you going to tell me or not? If you don't, you'll miss your chance."

With a sharp flick of her fingertips, a seemingly elegant but actually crude page-turning motion tore a small hole in the page she had just turned.

If someone treats their own textbooks this way, it's hard for Ito not to suspect that the other party has left some kind of trap waiting for him.

She should know that it was her book, right?

Taking a deep breath, as if making a decision, Ito placed his palm on the textbook, stopping the other person from turning the page.

Because of this action, Takikawa looked up and met Ito's serious gaze, abandoning his slightly frivolous attitude.

"So what exactly happened?" She kept glancing at their clasped hands. "Is it related to Sakura?"

"How did you know? You haven't heard about it either..." Ito's grip tightened. "I need your help."

"Just a guess." Takikawa naturally withdrew her hand and flexed her wrist. "After all, besides Sakura, I can't guess anything else that would make you ask me for help."

She paused, then added, "Of course, there's also money."

The last sentence was actually unnecessary. Ito told Takikawa the whole story, but omitted some unimportant details.

Talk of new goals or similar statements has absolutely nothing to do with how things are going.

After saying his last sentence, Ito waited for Takikawa's opinion.

Have you heard similar rumors?

“…Tsk.” Takikawa looked disgusted and distanced herself from Ito.

"Actually, I'm also a victim in a way." Ito was afraid that the other party hadn't understood and that there would be a misunderstanding.

"Tsk!" This time the sound was even louder, and Takikawa didn't even try to hide it. "So what? Should I praise you?"

"You need to reflect on yourself! Who exactly caused this situation?!"

I am truly ashamed, and this time I am genuinely ashamed, not just pretending.

Ito lowered his head and humbly accepted the criticism.

But it was precisely Ito's attitude of letting her teach him a lesson that made Takikawa even angrier.

"It's because you've always been like this that you've pushed others into the fire!" Takikawa's tone rose. "You always think about running away from trouble; you have absolutely no sense of responsibility!"

"This time too, this time before, and what about the future?! Do you intend to hide forever?!"

"If the problem isn't solved, it will just be passed on to other people."

I waited quietly for the other person to finish venting all their emotions, intending to communicate slowly afterwards.

“Ito…” Takikawa finished cursing, seemingly exhausted. He took a deep breath and called out the other person’s name, his voice hoarse with fatigue.

Ito looked up and met his gaze into her aquamarine eyes, which were usually clear, pure, and like a gift from heaven, but now appeared dark and somber.

Even Ito's heart couldn't help but clench.

"You're such an idiot!"

Takikawa's voice rang out abruptly, just as the sharp, piercing school bell rang.

Before Ito could respond, she suddenly turned her head and pushed hard with both hands, roughly separating the two desks with a loud "bang".

She moved her desk to where it was supposed to be and took the textbooks that were originally placed between the two of them.

This lesson was Mr. Huci's history lesson.

The petite teacher, Ms. Toji, carrying lesson plans that were almost half her height, immediately sensed the strange and tense atmosphere in the back of the classroom as soon as she entered.

She exaggeratedly grabbed her arms with both small hands, pretending to feel a chill, and even shook her shoulders in cooperation.

"The essence of 'Mountain Cherry' is actually a tragedy..." she said, distributing lesson plans as she spoke these nonsensical words. "So the story is set from the very beginning as a path to misfortune."

After Ito took the documents, Ms. Toji's small hands did not let go.

The two men's hands were silently grappling with each other over the documents, the paper groaning under the strain, and the once smooth paper instantly became crumpled and wrinkled.

What exactly is this guy planning to do?

"Ito, your script is set in modern times, right?" she suddenly asked, bringing up topics unrelated to the course.

"Y-yes." Ito was puzzled, and the other person suddenly let go of his hand. "So what?"

Ms. Toji's face turned serious, and she patted Ito's shoulder with a thick stack of papers, saying, "I told you not to pay attention in class before."

What does this have to do with not paying attention in class? Ito silently endured it, waiting for the other party to explain.

“In different eras, even in the same scenario, the same group of people will make different choices.”

Therefore, nothing remains unchanged in the course of development.

She finally let go, her gaze sweeping meaningfully over Ito and Takikawa.

She tossed the remaining lesson plans onto Ito's desk, saying, "So even a tragedy can turn into a comedy."

After saying those words, he turned and returned to the podium.

Looking at the thick stack of half-printed portraits of Tokugawa Ieyasu on the table, Ito's lips twitched.

So this guy only remembered the correct lesson content halfway through.

However... Ito turned his gaze to the right. At that moment, Takikawa was secretly talking to the girl at the table in front of him, with an undisguised sweet smile on her face, seemingly completely unaware of Ito's gaze.

I turned my gaze back to the azure sky outside the window, where a few birds flew by.

Whether it's the future or the present, the outcome is still unknown...

Perhaps there's some truth to what Mr. Toji said?

When the class ended, Ito stood up, intending to leave his seat, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and looked at it.

The screen displayed the sender: Takikawa?

He looked up almost immediately, his gaze passing through the noisy crowd, and looked to the side with a puzzled expression.

Takikawa was surrounded by several girls, and they seemed to be having a great time chatting, not at all like someone who had just sent a message.

He looked down at the short text message on his phone in disbelief.

This guy.

Takikawa: "The rumor originated from the basketball club."

Really...

Chapter 157 Kuroko's Unscientific Basketball

I bought a cream bread after leaving the convenience store.

Ito had considered that Asada Sakura's impulsive decision to make him breakfast and lunch yesterday might have been just a passing fancy, but he never expected that her enthusiasm would fade so quickly.

As a result, Ito was unable to adapt for a while.

Could it be that the comforter has cheated? Or has the tatami mat broken up with her?

Some absurd thoughts popped into his mind: was it because the pillow in her arms was too attractive that she completely lost interest in cooking?

Recalling Asada Sakura's matter-of-fact expression this morning, she argued that it was out of consideration for his "health".

"The thought that Ito-kun would force himself to finish all the food so as not to disappoint the girl makes me feel... I shouldn't have 'harmed' you like that!"

Using this seemingly considerate excuse, she effortlessly shirked all responsibility, claiming that she "didn't want to add any burden to Ito-kun."

If we consider that Chinatsu Morikami was also present, then the breakfast cancellation was barely understandable, but the lunch bento boxes were also canceled...

No one prepared this for him.

He tried to find an answer, but only received a warning look from the other person, as if continuing to speak would lead to something he couldn't look at directly.

"Ugh, I'm really worried sick." Ito opened the bag of cream bread and walked towards the gymnasium.

According to the information that Takikawa-sensei gathered, the initial rumors originated from the basketball club.

Although this struck Ito as particularly odd, upon closer reflection, it all made perfect sense.

He hadn't forgotten the incident that happened earlier that morning; that guy with the full beard named Tanaka seemed to be from the basketball team.

He thinks he has an insatiable sense of justice, but in reality he only acts on his own ideas and will do impulsive things if he is swayed by others.

Ito doesn't believe that no one was behind that incident.

After all, it just so happened that they were looking for trouble with him, it just so happened that it happened in public, and it just so happened that they knew Mori.

With so many coincidences combined, there must be something fishy going on.

As you open the iron gate of the stadium, a strong sense of testosterone hits you.

The gymnasium at Hibiya High School is shared by all clubs. In addition to the track and field and swimming clubs, sports such as volleyball and gymnastics are also held here.

Beneath my feet is a smooth, warm amber-colored solid wood floor that reflects the light streaming in from the high windows and emits a faint, unique scent of tung oil and sweat.

The floor is clearly marked with lines representing various functions such as basketball courts, volleyball courts, and badminton courts, in different shades of color.

Although it's lunch break time and not club time, there are still people in the gymnasium.

Take, for example, Tanaka, who keeps shooting from the free-throw line.

I sat in the audience seat next to him and watched the other team shoot.

His original purpose in coming here was to try his luck and see if he knew anyone.

A familiar face has indeed appeared. It seems that the person came over as soon as get out of class ended and started training without even changing clothes.

As Tanaka shot the ball into the basket one after another, sweat soaked his back and soaked his shirt.

His movements were concise, efficient, and without any hesitation.

With a flick of the wrist and a flick of the fingertips, the basketball traces graceful arcs, and the crisp, clean sounds of it swishing through the net echo continuously.

However, the opponent seemed to think that wasn't challenging enough. He lightly touched the ground with his foot and retreated without hesitation to the three-point line.