Tanaka-san Is Cuter Than the Main Heroine - Chapter 12: Tanaka-san and the Textbook

Chapter 12: Tanaka-san and the Textbook

“Nakayama, I didn’t think you were the type to snap like that. Got a low boiling point, huh?”

“Hey, cut it out. That’s hitting a little too close right now.”

First period had just ended.

I’d bolted out of the classroom the second the bell rang and was sulking in the hallway—when Machida (aka The Fool) strolled over and twisted the emotional knife without hesitation.

Seriously, this guy has no filter.

I was this close to cutting him off as a friend, when he suddenly clapped a hand on my shoulder and said,

“My bad. But seriously, that came outta nowhere, y’know?”

Ugh. Annoying.

I could’ve ignored him, sure—but I knew from experience that Machida wouldn’t shut up until he got it off his chest. So I gave up and let the conversation happen.

“You’re usually the guy who reads the room, right? But today you went full berserk mode, yelling like a man possessed. It was kind of intense.”

“…It’s not like I wanted to yell.”

“Because the ball almost hit a girl?”

“…W-Well, yeah.”

Still, talking to Machida wasn’t a total loss.

Because I managed to learn one extremely important fact—

Apparently, no one figured out that I snapped because of Tanaka-san.

Thank. God.

If anyone had misread that whole thing as some accidental love confession, I would’ve died on the spot from sheer secondhand embarrassment.

Relieved, I let out a small sigh… but at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder.

I definitely shouted her name loud enough.

How did nobody catch on?

That little mystery didn’t last long, though.

Because Machida casually followed up with:

“Truly worthy of the title ‘The Gentleman of Class 2-A.’ So noble.”

“…What kind of cringey nickname is that? That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

Out of nowhere, I’d been slapped with a nickname that felt way too high-class for a mob like me.

I’d never even heard of it before today.

So naturally, I jabbed my elbow into Machida’s side and muttered,

“You totally made that up. Don’t lie.”

“Guh—! I’m not lying, I swear! For real, man! Apparently, the second-year girls put together a bunch of rankings recently. Stuff like ‘cutest,’ ‘most popular,’ ‘coolest,’ all that junk. And for ‘most gentlemanly guy’? You ranked number one!”

To my surprise, Machida actually defended himself with a straight face and a serious tone.

And the thing is—I know this guy.

When he lies, his voice always goes weird and high-pitched.

This time? Totally normal.

…Still, I wasn’t convinced.

I mean, from an objective point of view, I’ve never done anything that could be called “gentlemanly.”

Not once have I pulled off any smooth manga-style save-the-heroine stunts.

No dramatic rescues. No prince-like charm. None of that.

“What part of me says ‘gentleman’? I mean, even I know I’ve got a pretty filthy mouth.”

I looked at Machida, fully expecting him to agree with a classic “Yeah, no kidding.”

But instead—

“Huh? I dunno. I don’t really think you’re that bad.”

He didn’t take the bait.

Huh?

I turned to look at him—and for once, Machida had this rare, dead-serious look on his face.

“It’s not so much what you say—it’s what you do, y’know? You’re always quietly helping people out without making a big deal of it. And when the rest of us were losing our minds over the whole Shikihime craze, you were the only one calmly handling prep for the culture fest and sports day. People notice that stuff.”

“That’s not even a big deal though. Besides, the only reason you guys got a bad rep was because you ditched your responsibilities and ticked off the girls.”

“Ha! Okay, fair.”

And here I was, listening all the way to the end like an idiot, thinking maybe I had some kind of hidden charm or appeal.

Nope.

Turns out I just look decent because the bar is buried six feet underground thanks to every other guy being hopeless.

So being called “number one” or “a real gentleman” doesn’t mean anything.

Zero hype. Zero satisfaction.

“From now on, try thinking about how your actions affect other people, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah, no kidding. Hearing you say that really hit me.”

Machida nodded solemnly, like he’d just had a major breakthrough or something.

Guess he finally realized how much of a clown he’s been lately.

Here’s hoping the rest of the guys start getting their act together too.

Feeling like I’d done my good deed for the day, I casually tossed out, “Anyway, I’m gonna hit the restroom,” and walked off.

…Truth is, I’d just remembered I hadn’t gone once all morning.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

Just as I was about to reach the washroom, a voice called out to me.

I turned around—and there she was.

Reno Fuyusara.

One of the Shikihime.

“You need something?”

Of all people, I definitely didn’t expect Reno Fuyusara—famous across the school for hating guys—to strike up a conversation with me.

So I asked carefully, half-expecting her to scorch me with a death glare.

“Um…”

But to my surprise, the usual cool, no-nonsense Fuyusara was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, she stood there fidgeting, eyes darting all over the place like she was totally lost.

If it were Kaisei she was talking to, I’d get it—she clearly doesn’t know how to act around someone she likes.

But me?

I’m just a background character.

And this? This was literally the first time in my life I’d ever exchanged words with her.

So yeah—I had absolutely no clue what was going on inside her head.

I stayed quiet and waited to see where this was going.

Eventually, she seemed to come to a decision. She took a small breath, like she’d finally made up her mind, and then—

“…Thanks.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away like nothing ever happened.

“…Huh? What was that about?”

She didn’t explain, didn’t elaborate, didn’t give me anything to work with.

No idea what she was thanking me for.

Still, she didn’t seem upset or anything, so I figured it wasn’t worth stressing over.

With that, I finally made it to the bathroom and took care of business.

…And then—

“Ah, crap. I forgot my textbook.”

Back in class, while getting ready for the next period, I realized something was off.

The textbook that was always in my bag?

Gone.

I thought back for a second—

Right. I’d taken it home three days ago to finish some homework.

“…Eh, I’ll figure something out.”

It’s not like someone stole it or anything.

This one was 100% on me.

No chance of running home to grab it now, so I just sighed, gave up, and quietly sat down—hoping, praying I wouldn’t get called on.

A few minutes later…

“Alright then, Nakayama-kun. Could you read from page forty-eight for us?”

“…Y-Yes.”

So much for that prayer.

Why is it that you only get called on specifically during times like this?

I glanced around, hoping to borrow a textbook from someone nearby, but of course—

The one other guy who forgot his textbook today had already claimed the spare.

Of course he did.

(Welp. Guess I’ll just take the L and get scolded.)

I mean, I had no one to blame but myself.

I forgot the book.

And I chickened out on telling the teacher ahead of time.

Totally on me.

“Sorr—”

“Nakayama-kun, here.”

Just as I was about to come clean, a textbook slid onto my desk—like some quiet little miracle.

I looked over.

It was Tanaka-san.

She’d handed me her book, already opened to the right page, even pointing to the exact paragraph.

How the hell was I supposed to admit anything now?

“‘The olfactory sense of animals is—’”

Thanks to Tanaka-san’s perfect timing and quiet kindness, I somehow made it through the reading and survived the moment.

“…Whew. Thanks, Tanaka-san.”

“…No problem at all. We’re supposed to help each other when we’re in a pinch, right?”

The moment I sat back down, I turned to Tanaka-san and thanked her properly.

She smiled, her cheeks softening into this gentle, happy little expression.

Too cute.

I swear, that one smile had enough healing power to cleanse my entire soul.

But as I glanced back toward the front of the room, I noticed something—

Tanaka-san’s textbook was still sitting on my desk.

“…Oh, right. I should give this back.”

“…Okay.”

I picked it up and held it out.

Just as she reached to take it—our fingers barely brushed.

“~~!?”

And in that exact moment, Tanaka-san recoiled like she’d just grabbed a live wire.

With neither of us holding the book anymore, it dropped straight to the floor with a loud thunk.

The entire classroom turned toward her.

Every. Single. Person.

“S-S-S-Sorry!!”

Her face, already pink, went full-boiled-octopus red in an instant.

She dove down, snatched the textbook off the floor at warp speed, and started bowing over and over, apologizing like she’d just triggered a national emergency.

Watching her panic like that, I got hit with a tidal wave of guilt.

Right then and there, I made up my mind:

I had to do something to make it up to her later.