The World's Strongest Little Brother

by Tsuyoshi Fujitaka

  A few of the girls nearby flinched. Maybe they thought he was talking about them. The label “Fujoshi” hung above their heads.

  I was right... the labels are actually changing.

  Yuichi took another look around. All around him, the labels were changing to things like “Lolicon,” “Siscon,” “Train Geek,” “Bookworm”...

  He began to feel a stinging pain behind his eyes. It felt like the pain associated with eye strain, but it faded after a while.

  “What’s wrong?” Shota asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Yuichi’s sudden activity.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  But this might be a problem after all, he realized. When he saw a label change, he couldn’t help but stop and think about it. That could really have an impact on how he lived his life.

  “Um, we were talking about my sister, right? About that... She’s got middle school syndrome. A really bad case.”

  “Middle school syndrome? She’s sick?”

  “No, not sick. Um, how to put it... It’s like being really obsessive about stuff.” Explaining would be more trouble than it was worth, so he just picked the closest easy example.

  “Hey, have you got a picture of your sister?”

  “What kind of guy would carry around a picture of his big sist—” But before he could even finish that thought, he remembered he had some photo booth stickers in his bag that they’d taken together. He’d said he didn’t want them, but she’d pushed them on him.

  “Oh, so you have got one? Let’s have a look!”

  “Fine...” He didn’t want to come off like an uncooperative jerk, after all. He reached for his bag, placed it on the desk and started rummaging through it.

  “Hey, what’s that?” Shota pointed at the bag. He’d taken interest in a hunk of metal poking out of it.

  “This? This is the Captains of Crush Gripper No. 4. It’s for improving your grip strength.”

  “Huh? That’s weird. Can I see?”

  Yuichi pulled the gripper from his bag and handed it to Shota.

  The Captains of Crush Gripper was an advanced gripper made by IronMind Enterprises, Inc., designed to improve your grip strength. They ranged from No. 1 to No. 4. To close No. 4, you needed a grip strength of about 160 kg. There was no way an average high school student could close it.

  Shota strained hard, trying to close it. Yuichi watched him out of the corner of his eye as he searched for the photo booth stickers.

  “What, class chaos on the very first day? What part of ‘wait quietly in your seats’ didn’t you understand? Well, whatever. Just take your seats already. I’m Hanako Nodayama, and I’m your homeroom teacher.”

  Yuichi’s search for the photo stickers was interrupted by a feminine, incredibly unmotivated voice. He stopped to look up at the teacher’s lectern.

  At some point, a woman bearing the label “Homeroom Teacher” had arrived in the room. She didn’t look comfortable in the suit she was wearing... to put it mildly. Her hair was a total mess, with a half-assed brown dye job. She didn’t seem to care about her appearance at all.

  “Let me say one thing to start off: Do not mess with me. Now hand out these print-outs. Um, you there. Split ’em up and pass ’em back. Everything you need to know for high school life is on there. You hear me? It’s all on there. So you won’t need me to explain anything or answer any questions. Got it?” Hanako forced the print-outs on the first student she saw.

  Their homeroom teacher’s attitude seemed to be having an immediately demoralizing effect on the class. The papers were passed out according to Hanako’s instructions.

  “Huh? I don’t think there are enough,” Shota said as he turned back to face Yuichi. It seemed Shota had gotten the last for their row.

  Yuichi looked around to see if any rows had gotten extra. It looked like Yuichi was the only one who hadn’t gotten one.

  “Excuse me, but I didn’t get a print-out,” Yuichi called out, holding up his hand.

  A few students turned to look at Yuichi.

  He suddenly felt a stinging pain behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut as the world turned white around him.

  “Hey, what’s with you? You got middle school syndrome or something? One of those ‘Hnngh! Be still, my right eye!’ types? Because high school seems a little late to start that stuff.” Hanako’s words were mixed with mocking laughter.

  “...Ah, sorry. It was just a sudden headache. I’m fi—” Yuichi began to sit up, then froze, his jaw going slack.

  “Zombie.”

  “Witch.”

  “Anthromorph.”

  “Dating Sim Childhood Friend.”

  “Vampire.”

  A whole crowd of people with bizarre labels were looking at him. Everyone’s labels were different. Before then, they had all just been “Classmate.”

  What’s going on? But he didn’t have more than a second to to think about it. Someone’s eyes were fixed on him. He turned to look, and felt a new chill run though him.

  “Serial Killer.”

  Their eyes met.

  A terrifyingly beautiful girl had affixed Yuichi with a cold, sharp gaze. Above her short-cropped hair floated the label “Serial Killer.”

  What does “Serial Killer” mean?! What would someone like that be doing here?!

  He didn’t understand it at all. He turned back pleadingly to “Ace Striker” in front of him, realizing at the same time that he could do nothing to help.

  “What’s with the gawking, huh? Trying to pick a fight with your homeroom teacher on your first day, are you?” Hanako’s drawl pulled Yuichi back to reality.

  “Oh, um, I’m sorry. I just didn’t get a print-out.”

  “Anyone have extra? Guess there’s not enough, then. Someone share with him.” The teacher sounded like she didn’t care the least bit how it turned out.

  “You can look at mine,” Shota said, offering his own print-out helpfully.

  “It’s up to you guys to read it for yourselves. Don’t come crying to me later saying that you weren’t aware of something. Now I guess we’ll use the rest of our time for introductions. Come up to the front in roll order and tell us who you are.”

  Yuichi looked at the print-out Shota had given him. It had a seating chart, too.

  “Serial Killer” was Natsuki Takeuchi. Her roll number was 37. Her seat was the second from the front on the right side.

  Even with all those weird labels like “Zombie” and “Witch,” “Serial Killer” seemed the most extreme. How else to interpret it other than that she was a murderer?

  For that matter, what do the labels even represent?

  He had assumed they had something to do with the person’s role in society, but he didn’t have any solid proof of that. Still, given what he had seen so far, they did seem to relate to the person’s life somehow.

  As Yuichi turned the problem over in his mind, the students began introducing themselves. Yuichi was #14, so he had a ways to go. He decided to listen to the introductions while he could. Maybe he’d gain some insight into the nature of the labels.

  “Zombie” was Risa Ayanokoji. She was a girl with two ponytails mounted high on her head.

  “Hello! I’m Risa Ayanokoji. I know my last name sounds pretty fancy, but we’re not rich, so don’t sponge off me, okay? I played volleyball in middle school, and I’ll probably do it in high school, too!”

  She seemed a bit on the dense side, but she spoke energetically enough. Her complexion was healthy, too. There was nothing zombie-like about her.

  I don’t get it... What does “Zombie” mean?

  Did it mean she was dead? But how?

  “Witch” was An Katagiri.

  She had long black hair, with bangs long enough to hide her eyes, and an aura of gloom all around her. She certainly resembled his idea of a witch.

  “I’m An Katagiri. I don’t have any hobbies, so I’ll keep it brief, but there is one thing I want to warn you about. I am in love with Takuro Oda, who sits in the seat
next to mine. I will not let anyone take him from me. If you try to go after Oda, I’ll kill you.”

  Huh? What the hell?!

  Yuichi had never heard such an intense introduction in his life. The rest of his classmates seemed to feel the same way. The whole room burst into whispers.

  Takuro, clearly feeling put on the spot, opened his eyes wide and flapped his mouth, dumbstruck.

  It didn’t seem like they knew each other. Yuichi couldn’t recall ever seeing her before.

  Above Takuro’s head, the label that had said “Friend” now changed to “Witch’s Beloved.”

  Could certain events be changing the words? In this case, it must have been An Katagiri’s introduction. Yuichi’s confusion deepened.

  “Hey, cut out the bad jokes. You’re scaring people. Besides, you’d just get sent to prison if you did that.” Shota’s joking voice rung out in the middle of the clamor.

  “I don’t care if I’m caught. After they release me, I’ll find Oda again and we’ll be married for life. If he’s already married by then, then I’ll kill his wife and children, too. So, Oda. If you try to marry anyone else, you’ll just be forcing them into a tragic end. If that’s what you want, then go ahead and do it.” She spoke the words with absolute confidence.

  Does “Witch” refer to her personality, maybe?

  “Anthromorph” was Yuri Konishi.

  The first thing he noticed was her glorious golden hair, which was bound up in a bizarre and complicated style. Her haughty bearing suggested that she was the daughter of a rich family.

  Despite the blonde hair, though, her name and facial features were both Japanese. Maybe she was half-Japanese.

  Whatever the reason, her eye-catching appearance sent whispers throughout the classroom, and her introduction only made it worse.

  “Let me begin by making one thing clear. I come from a wealthy family. Japanese law forbids class segregation, but as high school students, I am sure that you are aware that money creates differences in status. A person’s worth is directly connected to their wealth. In that respect, I stand high above commoners such as yourselves. You may think this nothing more than the arrogance of the wealthy, but we are about to spend an entire year together as classmates, and I do not wish to see any misfortune befall you. Thus, I thought it best to make certain things clear, to prevent any misunderstandings in your interactions with me that might give you later cause for regret. I advise you all to take this information into account before attempting to approach me.”

  Shota turned back to Yuichi. His gaze read “here’s another crazy chick.”

  Maybe she was as rich and powerful as she claimed. No normal person would have such an arrogant view of their classmates.

  But I don’t get how that makes her an Anthromorph...

  Yuichi was just growing more and more baffled.

  “Dating Sim Childhood Friend” was Yoko Sugimoto.

  Dating Sim?!

  “Witch” and “Anthromorph” were at least things he understood. But this label didn’t make any sense to him at all. Did that mean she acted like a stereotypical childhood friend you saw in dating games?

  She seemed like a totally normal girl. Her appearance and her introduction were both utterly unremarkable. But as he was thinking that over, his eyes fell upon a male student. He was “Dating Sim Protagonist,” and judging from the seating chart, his name was Koichi Makise.

  That’s right, they were talking to each other before, and I think she was teasing him...

  Maybe “Childhood Friend” referred to her relationship to him. It couldn’t have anything to do with Yuichi.

  “Vampire” was Aiko Noro. She was a petite, pretty girl with short bobbed hair.

  But she’s standing right in the sunlight... I thought that killed vampires? It was a clear day, with sunlight streaming into the classroom.

  “Um, I’m Aiko Noro! I chose this school ’cause it was the closest to my house, but I’m not too smart, so it was pretty hard to get in. I think I was right on the line. But I’m gonna work hard to study and have fun, too, so let’s do our best together, okay?”

  She seemed like a ball of energy. There wasn’t a trace of anything vampiric in her. Though she does seem a little pale for a Japanese girl...

  A little foreign, maybe? But that was the only remotely vampiric thing he could identify.

  The introductions had only made the labels more confusing. The only one that made any sense was “Witch,” and even then, all he knew about her was that she was a little eccentric. Yuichi was about to give up, when his attention refocused on a single person.

  “Serial Killer,” Natsuki Takeuchi.

  Her cold, sharp eyes and neatly arranged, short-cropped hair did give the impression of a killer.

  “I’m Natsuki Takeuchi. I just moved here from the country, and I’m feeling kind of overwhelmed by all the people here in the city. This school seems full of people, so I’ll do my best to learn from you all.” She seemed like a cold person, though it could be because of his preconceptions. There was something brusque and alienating about her.

  Still, the contents of her introduction had been entirely inoffensive. There was nothing in them to suggest that she was a murderer. Even so, Yuichi couldn’t take his eyes off that terrible label above her head: “Serial Killer.”

  At last, homeroom ended. Since there were no classes that day, they were free to go home. Yuichi thought about checking in with Takuro — now “Witch’s Beloved” — but he’d fled the classroom at his first chance. The other students were starting to file out, as well.

  Part of Yuichi wanted to run straight home, too, but he decided to stick around and sort out his thoughts. He remained at his desk with the seating chart, comparing labels, names, introduction speeches...

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Shota’s voice.

  “What’s with this thing? It doesn’t even work!”

  Shota returned the gripper to Yuichi. He’d apparently given up on closing it.

  “Well, you can’t go right to that one. If you really want to do it, I’ll lend you No. 1. You need 60 kg of grip strength to close that one.”

  “Nah, it’s not like I need that for soccer anyway. Can you close it?”

  “You know isometric training? I use it for that.”

  Isometric training was a type of muscle training based around holding a single position, like pushing an immovable wall. The little white lie seemed like less trouble than admitting that he really could close it.

  “Think I’ve heard of that. So, you’ve been scowling at that names list for a while.”

  “I figured I’d try to memorize everyone’s names.” Another white lie.

  “Oh, is that all? I thought you were ranking the girls or something. Let me see.” Shota snatched the list away. Of course, it was Shota’s to begin with, so Yuichi couldn’t really complain.

  Shota started making marks next to the girls’ names.

  “Natsuki Takeuchi, Aiko Noro, Yuri Konishi. Those are the top three. The next tier are Miyu Hirata, Sayaka Haraguchi... and An Katagiri, I guess. She seems a little crazy, though. Still, I’m glad we got a class full of hot girls.”

  Yuichi had been in no condition to think about it at the time, but looking back, he remembered that the boys had started whispering each time a girl got up to speak.

  “This is gonna be a great year! Well, I’d better get going. Gotta say hi to my seniors in the soccer club.”

  Everyone else in the classroom had left while they were talking. Shota stood up and left, too.

  Yuichi couldn’t just stay in the classroom. He decided to visit the bathroom before heading home.

  There were students from other classes out in the hall. “Peer” was the only label above their heads.

  Yuichi went to the bathroom, did his business, and washed his hands, lost in thought.

  He didn’t know what the labels were conveying. In fact, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to take them at face
value. I mean, come on... There’s no such thing as zombies or vampires...

  They had all read “Classmate” at first, but at some point, they had changed.

  Did it say something above his head, then? Maybe there was something new there...

  He looked up to check the mirror, but what he saw there was the last thing he expected.

  “Serial Killer.”

  Natsuki Takeuchi was standing behind him.

  “Hey. You were looking at me before, right?”

  “Um, this is the boys’ bathroom...” A chill went up Yuichi’s spine. He hadn’t even heard Natsuki’s approach. He’d been lost in thought, sure... but it was unbelievable that he hadn’t noticed her until she was right behind him.

  Something pricked against his back. It felt like a blade.

  “It doesn’t bother me, so it shouldn’t bother you. Now, answer my question. You were looking at me, weren’t you? Why? Do I seem that strange? I thought I was blending in.”

  “You looked at me first, right? So I looked back at you...” He remembered how he’d panicked and looked away right after meeting her eyes. Maybe that was what had tipped her off. Certainly he’d been looking at her a little longer than might be normal, but that shouldn’t have been enough to give him away.

  “Listen. I’ve had people look at me that way before. I recognize the shock in someone’s eyes when they find out I’m a killer. Would you please just tell me how you knew? It would be useful, for future reference.”

  The knife at his back moved ever-so-slightly. It was a threat.

  Yuichi was in a cold sweat. The label above her head must be true.

  “Are you a... serial killer?”

  She didn’t seem like she was about to kill him, so he treaded the waters carefully.

  “I guess so. I kill people pretty much daily. But I don’t like to bring that into my everyday life, so I haven’t tried to kill anyone at this school. That’s why I’m surprised that someone has caught on already. So, how did you know?”

  He wondered how best to answer her. He’d seen enough to know that any attempt to lie would backfire, so he opted for the truth.

  “I see words above people’s heads. It says ‘Serial Killer’ above yours. There are others in class, too, like ‘Witch’ and ‘Zombie.’”