The Handsome Boy I Saved from Getting Beaten on the Train… Turned Out to Be the “Prince” of an All-Girls School

Volume 01: The Person I Helped Turned Out to Be the Prince of a Girls’ School

Chapter 01: A Handsome High School Boy Was Getting Beat Up on the Train

“What the hell are you lookin’ at, ha!?”

It was Monday morning—the worst day of the week.

Just like always, I, Saito Kujou, 16 years old, got on my usual morning train for school. Same time, same car.

By some miracle, I’d managed to grab a seat and was dozing off, trying to sneak in a few precious moments of sleep…

When suddenly, I was jolted awake by someone yelling.

(Tch… Come on. Can’t a guy enjoy his rare sleeping time in peace?)

When I opened my eyes, I saw the commotion happening near the train door.

A rough-looking guy with bleached hair, wearing construction-site style baggy pants—the classic troublemaker outfit—was totally losing it.

“You’re the one staring at me! What’s your problem!?”

He was shouting at a student in a school blazer.

The student he picked a fight with?

A slender, stylish high school boy wearing a cap, his hoodie pulled up over his blazer, and a mask covering his face.

One of those cool, modern-looking pretty boys.

But come on… That’s not the kind of response you give to a guy looking to start a fight!

“You wanna glare at people, huh!? You got a death wish or something, punk?!”

Guys like that—your typical delinquents—tend to blow up the moment they feel disrespected.

It’s like their entire identity depends on not being looked down on. The second someone treats them a little roughly, they snap without thinking.

And sure enough, this guy in the construction pants was no exception.

He immediately grabbed the high school boy by the collar and started yelling in his face.

It brought back some memories—

Back in middle school, in my countryside public school days…

Because I had good grades, the teachers thought I’d be “a good fit” for class rep.

And so, I kept getting dragged into fights between the class troublemakers.

Not a fun time.

“Get off me!”

“You got a mouth on you, punk!?”

(Someone stop them already…)

I glanced around the train at the nearby seats, but everyone had the same idea—

They all looked away.

Yeah.

That’s the smart choice.

Honestly, I was doing the same.

Because getting involved?

That only brings trouble.

If I stepped in and got punched, I’d obviously hate that.

It might even mess with my school life.

And if things got heated and I ended up throwing a punch too, then I’d be the one getting dragged off by the cops.

Now, if the one being harassed was a girl or a kid, maybe someone would jump in to play the hero like in a light novel.

But when it’s just two guys?

That kind of noble courage never shows up.

And to top it off, the guy getting grabbed didn’t look like some helpless victim.

With his stylish looks and calm attitude, it kind of looked like a fair fight between two equals.

“You wanna fight, ha?”

The guy in the construction pants finally snapped—and threw a punch.

His fist landed square on the high school boy’s cheek.

And the moment I saw that—

“Whoa whoa whoa!”

Before I even realized what I was doing, I jumped up from my seat and practically dove straight into the fire like an idiot reaching into a bonfire for a chestnut.

(What the hell am I doinggggg!? Also, what even was that ‘whoa whoa whoa’!?)

I honestly didn’t know why I stepped in.

Maybe it was muscle memory from being a class rep in middle school and breaking up fights all the time?

Either way, I’d spoken up now—

Which meant I’d officially been noticed.

“…Hah? This ain’t your business, so stay the hell out of it.”

The guy turned to me, eyes bloodshot with rage.

“Yeah, but… y’know, hitting people’s not cool.”

You can’t reason with someone who’s that fired up, so I kept my words short and simple.

While the guy’s attention was fully on me, I quietly moved the high school boy behind my back, shielding him without making a big deal out of it.

“Mind your damn business!”

“Whoa whoa whoa.”

I’ve seriously been saying nothing but “whoa whoa whoa” this whole time…

While repeating that useless phrase, I carefully watched the guy in the construction pants.

He was actually shorter than me.

Judging by his clothes, he probably worked at some kind of construction site, but he wasn’t that big either.

Physically speaking, I had the advantage—especially since I’d been hitting the gym lately for… reasons.

He looked more slim than strong—probably just young.

And those pants looked practically brand new, so he likely hadn’t been on the job long.

Plus, the fact that he was throwing a tantrum in public like this only made his face look more childish.

(So he’s just a kid too… Still, if it comes down to it, I might be able to handle this.)

Thinking through all this helped me calm down a little.

Maybe my shift in attitude showed, because the guy didn’t come at me right away like he had with the other boy.

Delinquents like him don’t go picking fights with just anyone.

They go after people they think they can beat—people who look scared.

He must’ve taken a good look at my build and decided to wait and see for now.

Muscles don’t betray you.

That said, I still had no idea when he might suddenly throw a punch at me—

So I casually shifted my school backpack down in front of my stomach.

A hit down there is a game over no matter how big or strong you are.

Also… it seriously freaking hurts.

“Aren’t you on your way to work right now?”

“The hell’s your problem, huh?! Quit runnin’ your mouth!”

“Whoa whoa whoa.”

Yep. My ‘whoa whoa whoa’ strategy was still going strong.

It might look pointless, but in situations like this, making the other person waste time is actually really important.

Especially considering where we were right now.

(Man… it’d be great if someone came to help around now…)

I glanced around at the other passengers, silently begging for backup—

But every single one of them quickly looked away.

(Yeah… figured as much!!)

Well, to be fair, I’d been saying nothing but ‘whoa whoa whoa’ this whole time.

If I’d made some grand, rousing speech that reignited the long-forgotten sense of justice buried in those old dudes’ hearts,

Maybe—maybe—one of them would’ve gotten swept up in the moment and jumped in.

But hey, if I had the kind of charisma to pull that off, I wouldn’t be just a regular high school kid, now would I?

“Tch, I’m done with you. Hey, you—get off at the next station.”

Ughhh…

Great. Now that guy in the construction pants has completely shifted his target to me.

He’s probably thinking something like this:

“Big guy, but doesn’t look like he’s used to fighting.”

And he’s not wrong.

But he’s also calculating that since we’re in public, someone might step in or get in the way.

So if he waits until we get off the train—

Somewhere quieter with no interruptions—

He might actually have a chance to win.

And… yeah, that sounds about right.

As you can probably tell from the whole “former class rep” thing, I’ve always been the good student type.

Never been in a real fight—only ever stepped in to stop them.

But still…

That’s exactly why I’ve got a pretty solid grasp on how to deal with guys like him.

“Get off at the next stop, punk.”

After growling that, the guy plopped himself down on one of the seats.

And like clockwork, the surrounding passengers all quietly scooted away from him.

“Sure. That’s my stop anyway.”

And it actually was—my school was just outside the next station, so no big deal.

He didn’t even react to my response.

Just started fiddling with his phone, completely ignoring me.

So I guess this means a temporary truce… until the train reaches the next station.

I happened to notice how he was sitting—legs spread wide, taking up as much space as possible.

It kind of reminded me of how wild animals puff themselves up to look bigger as a threat display.

Anyway, since this is an express train, it’ll still be a few more minutes until we arrive.

“Um… excuse me… I’m really sorry. This all happened because you tried to protect me…”

I turned around when I heard the voice from behind.

The high school boy stood there, clutching the hem of his blazer, looking like he was about to cry.

Ah… sorry.

I was so focused on dealing with that wannabe gangster, I completely forgot about the person who actually got hurt the most—him.

“Don’t worry about it. I jumped in on my own. Are you okay where he hit you?”

“Y-Yeah. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Right after you get hit, your adrenaline’s still pumping, so it doesn’t feel too bad. But the swelling usually kicks in later, so you should try to cool it down. Uh… hang on a sec—here, take this.”

I rummaged through my school backpack and pulled out an ice pack from my lunch cooler bag.

“T-Thanks.”

Even though we’d just met, he accepted the ice pack without hesitation and gently held it to his bruised cheek.

From his appearance, I figured he was one of those trendy, fashionable types…

But turns out he was a really sweet and polite kid.

His presence helped calm me down a bit, too.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m… Rei Hoshina.”

“I’m Saito Kujou. Rei, things might get a little more complicated after this, but there’s one thing I really want you to remember—you didn’t do anything wrong. Not one thing. When the adults ask you what happened, just tell them the truth. That’ll help protect you, and it’ll also help protect me. So please, okay?”

“Uh… okay.”

Rei nodded at my words, though he probably didn’t fully get what I meant.

Still, thanks for listening seriously to my totally self-preserving advice.

“Are you okay, Lord Rei!?”

“Rei-sama!”

As soon as our conversation ended, a group of high school girls rushed over to Rei, clearly worried about him.

Rei-sama!?

Wait—what?

Is this guy super popular or something?

Man… being handsome really is unfair.

“Uh, hey—you there. You go to the same school as him, right?”

“Eek!? Y-Y-Yes!”

I called out to one of the girls wearing the same school uniform as Rei, and the whole group squeaked in surprise like I’d just thrown a bucket of cold water on them.

Yeah… suddenly getting talked to by a guy is already a lot,

But being approached by someone involved in this whole train drama?

Yeah, I’d be freaked out too.

Still, I didn’t really have the luxury to worry about that right now—so I hoped they’d bear with me.

To avoid letting Mr. Trouble-pants overhear us, I stepped into a spot where I could block his line of sight and spoke in a quiet voice, making sure he couldn’t see the girls’ faces.

“You all saw what happened earlier, right? If the school or the station staff asks for statements later, can I ask you to tell them what you saw?”

“Y-Yes!”

Honestly, I thought they’d back off and say, “Don’t drag us into this!”

But surprisingly, they agreed without hesitation.

“Thanks. It’ll help Rei for sure—and honestly, it’ll help me out too.”

I put my hands together in a small gesture and politely asked the girls for their help.

In situations like this, the people who choose to stay silent and look the other way aren’t necessarily bad.

Most of them actually feel guilty or ashamed afterward for doing nothing.

And it’s exactly because they carry that guilt that, when someone like me—who jumped headfirst into the mess—asks them directly for help, they’re more likely to listen.

I was finally calm enough to think about things from that perspective.

“Y-Yes, we understand.”

“Thanks.”

I gave them a grateful smile as they nodded.

Even if their answer was just to keep things smooth for now, that was okay.

Even if they didn’t end up giving a statement, I was sure the other passengers around us had overheard this whole exchange about “needing witnesses.”

Adults aren’t reckless like me.

They don’t openly take risks or stir up trouble.

But in return, they’ve carried with them mountains of regret—built up over years of bitter experience.

Regrets like:

The aching thought of “If only I’d done something back then…”

The times they clung to their pride and found themselves cornered.

The times they ran away, only to be haunted by it.

The times they gave up on themselves.

The guilt of betraying the voice of their own conscience.

And those memories?

They always come rushing back at night—right when you’re lying in bed, trying to fall asleep.

So maybe…

Just maybe, someone who wants to sleep peacefully tonight might go up to a station staff member later and offer to give a statement.

It’s a small hope—

But way more realistic than expecting someone to step in during the heat of the moment.

Just then, the train began to slow down.

A calm voice over the intercom announced that we’d be arriving at the next station soon.

“Hey. Time to get off.”

The guy in the construction pants stood up with a lazy sway and called out to me.

I didn’t respond—just quietly moved to stand in front of the train door.

Maybe he was feeling good about the fact that I wasn’t resisting or putting up a fight,

Because he followed right behind me without complaining.

This station usually had a lot of people getting off,

But for some reason, everyone gave me and Mr. Construction Pants a wide berth,

Leaving an awkward bubble of empty space around us near the door.

“Doors will open on this side.”

The announcement played, and the train doors slid open.

“WE’VE GOT A VIOLENT INCIDENT ON THE TRAIN—SOMEONE CALL A STATION ATTENDANT RIGHT AWAAAAAY!!”

As soon as I stepped onto the platform, I shouted from the bottom of my lungs—

A level of volume I never imagined myself using in everyday life.

“What’s going on!?”

My desperate yell, thankfully, didn’t get drowned out by the usual noise of people getting on and off the train.

It reached a station attendant nearby loud and clear.

And luck was finally on my side—

There just happened to be a staff member posted right by the train door where we got off.

But then…

“I’m calling for backup right now!”

The nearby attendant was a petite woman,

And after seeing the situation, she bolted off to find reinforcements.

Okay.

Yeah, that was a good call.

Given her size, it made total sense to go get help.

But here’s the problem.

Until that backup gets here…

I’m stuck alone. With this guy.

Dammit.

Still not a guaranteed win yet!

“You little rat! You just snitched on me, you piece of crap!!”

Alright.

Now I’m face-to-face with an angry dude in construction pants, all alone on the platform.

The question is: how do I stay in one piece long enough for help to arrive?

“Whoa whoa whoa.”

Even now, I had no choice but to fall back on my trusty old phrase.

“You said we’d settle this one-on-one, didn’t you!?”

“Yeah, uh—I don’t remember ever agreeing to that.”

Dude, I don’t know the rules of your monkey mountain brawling rituals.

Still, the guy was practically foaming at the mouth, ready to lunge at me any second.

Where’s that station staff backup…?

It probably hasn’t even been a full minute yet,

But it feels like time’s warped and slowed to a crawl.

I had to stall him somehow.

Just as I was racking my brain for an idea—

Something perfect popped into view.

“Don’t make this worse than it already is! I’ll press this thing, I swear!”

I yelled that loud enough for others to hear,

And dramatically pointed my index finger at a pillar on the platform.

Right there, at the tip of my finger, was a bright yellow box…

With a very noticeable big red Emergency Stop button.

“Wha—!?”

I didn’t actually plan on pressing the button.

I mean, I wasn’t even sure if this situation technically qualified as an emergency where you’re allowed to press it.

Sure, the train was definitely delayed because of this whole mess,

But hitting that big red emergency stop button felt like crossing a line I wasn’t ready for.

So instead—

I decided to put the pressure on him by making it his choice whether or not this scary-looking button would be pushed.

“…L-Like I care.”

He tried to sound tough, but his voice had clearly lost its edge.

He was definitely shaken now.

Yeah, that makes sense.

No one wants to be the reason something that serious gets triggered.

Turns out, this guy—Mr. Construction Pants—wasn’t completely out of touch.

Once he calmed down a little, he did care about how people saw him and felt some level of shame.

But see, that’s where the problem lies.

In situations like this, if you’re the type who can still be reasoned with—

You’re also the type who gets completely thrown off-balance when someone pushes back.

“You heard me, right? Whether or not I press this button is up to you! Think carefully! From the way you’re dressed, it looks like you’re heading to work, yeah? You really wanna make this mess even worse? I’m saying this for your own good, man!”

…Of course, when someone says, “I’m saying this for your own good” in a situation like this,

nine times out of ten, they’re only thinking about themselves.

Just like I was right now.

“Hello there~! Is something going on here?”

Phew…

Finally. Help had arrived.

“The man in the construction pants assaulted a high school student on the train. I’m willing to give a statement as a witness. Please call the police.”

As a small group of station staff gathered around us, I finally relaxed.

I took my finger off the emergency stop button and calmly explained the situation.

“Y-You bastard!? You were going on about not wanting to make a big deal out of this, and now you’re the one making it worse!”

At last, Mr. Construction Pants seemed to realize he’d been completely played.

But hey—too little, too late.

By now, a few male staff members had already surrounded him.

Still…

Since he was about to be handed over to the police, I figured maybe I should at least send him off with some cool parting words.

“Whoa whoa whoa.”

Yeah.

I couldn’t think of anything remotely cool to say.

Man, I really am lame.