The Story of How I, a Guy Who Couldn’t Care Less About School Castes, Somehow Ended Up Making All the Five-Star Gals Fall for Me - Chapter 01: A Five-Star Gal Suddenly Talks to Me

Chapter 01: A Five-Star Gal Suddenly Talks to Me

The Five-Star Gals—better known by their nickname, the Fives—sat firmly at the very peak of the school caste pyramid.

Hari Suitengu. Hinawa Hiwatari. Miyu Chigira. Platina Kongouji.

The four of them had been close friends since middle school.

Whenever these girls—each with looks that could rival real celebrities—gathered together, the air around them turned into something like an untouchable sanctuary.

At Gingamine High, their popularity was idol-tier.

It wasn’t just about who your favorite was—most of the student body adored them as a whole, like die-hard fans “supporting the entire unit.”

Because of that, an unspoken iron rule spread among their admirers: never disturb the perfect balance of the four.

Nobody knew who came up with it first, but everyone followed it like well-trained fans.

To let the girls enjoy their high school life in peace, the rest of the class kept a respectful distance.

For them, being a group of four was sacred—something you simply didn’t mess with.

That said, the Fives weren’t cold or unapproachable.

When needed, they could talk with anyone just fine.

They joined in on group projects, took part in class events, and acted as proper members of the class.

They never used their status as the “Five-Star Gals” to control the atmosphere or lord it over anyone.

From the moment they entered the school, those four beauties completely monopolized everyone’s attention.

And when they moved up to their second year… somehow, all four of them ended up in the same class, 2-D.

That coincidence was so unbelievable, people actually called it the “Gingamine High Grand Cross.”

The best year.

The best class.

The best visuals.

Their classmates could only thank their lucky stars for being placed alongside them.

The excitement was like scoring front-row tickets to your favorite idol concert—pure, over-the-top joy.

But when idols and their fans gather, something else inevitably forms: an invisible “wall.”

Even the guys and girls who would normally sit at the top of the caste in other classes kept their distance from the Fives.

Just standing next to them made the difference in “level” painfully obvious, so most didn’t even bother forcing interaction.

The Five-Star Gals were on such a different plane that no one even thought about competing with them.

They weren’t just popular—they were revered as something sacred, untouchable.

Nobody dared to dig too deep into their world.

And yet—without even trying to break that wall, there was one boy who ended up being invited past it.

☆☆☆☆☆

Mid-May. A quiet self-study period.

Golden Week had passed, and most of the class relationships had already settled into place.

Meanwhile, Ikoi Kizuki was surrounded by a bunch of big, scary-looking baseball club members—who, despite their intimidating size, were practically in tears as they begged him to help them study for the upcoming midterms.

Their advisor was notoriously strict: even if you were a regular starter, flunk a test and you were benched.

So these muscle-bound giants—built to smash home runs—were now hunched over like timid puppies, desperately glaring at their textbooks.

“Honestly, I don’t even know what I don’t know!” was about the level they were at.

And yet, Ikoi patiently guided them through, helping them at least reach the point where they could handle some self-study later at home.

In the middle of that wall of muscle, Ikoi looked almost painfully plain.

His face? Neat enough, but without any standout features that left an impression.

At first glance, he was the very picture of an average high school boy.

He wasn’t handsome enough to instantly catch a girl’s eye, nor was he sloppy or ugly.

He wore his blazer properly, just as the rules required.

No dyed hair, just a light, natural cut that showed he cared about basic grooming.

His height was neither tall nor short, his build on the slimmer side.

Even his indoor shoes weren’t especially dirty, and he didn’t wear any accessories.

At the same time, he wasn’t so plain that you’d immediately write him off as “boring.”

It was hard to pin down anything definite about him—what group he fit in with, what hobbies he had, what kind of “type” he was.

Ikoi Kizuki was… an ambiguous presence.

Anonymous.

“Kizuki, seriously, you saved us! No way we’re failing now!”

“From here on, you guys gotta handle it yourselves.”

“Yeah, yeah! But you better come watch our next game!”

“I’ll be expecting a monster home run.”

Despite their over-the-top thanks, Ikoi didn’t make a big deal of it.

He just brushed it off casually and started heading back to his seat.

Since the teacher had stepped out, the classroom was noisy and chaotic—friends dragging desks together, little groups chatting here and there.

That meant Ikoi had to loop around the back of the room to get through.

Near the very last row by the windows, though, there was a strange “empty pocket” of space.

And of course, the reason was pure Class 2-D.

The Fives had pulled their desks together and were sitting in their usual little circle.

Just the sight of those dazzling gals gathered like that gave off an aura that made it hard to approach.

Especially if you weren’t particularly close with them.

But to her, none of that mattered.

“Hey, hey, Ikoi! Listen to this!”

Hinawa Hiwatari spotted him walking by and instantly called out.

Her cheerful, too-loud voice rang out across the room, completely ignoring the fact it was self-study time—and instantly drew everyone’s attention.

Her first impression?

She was exactly what anyone pictured when they thought of a stereotypical gal.

Hinawa had long blonde hair streaked with pink highlights, and her well-shaped ears were lined with multiple piercings.

Her nails were long and decorated with intricate nail art, a scrunchie circled her wrist, and thanks to her excellent figure, even the school uniform looked different on her.

She left the top buttons of her shirt undone, shortened her skirt, and tied a cardigan around her waist, which only made her slim figure stand out even more.

Her sharp features and curvy proportions drew eyes whether she wanted them to or not.

Her personality was just as dazzling—bright, cheerful, and openly friendly with everyone.

In short, she was the kind of girl who caught people’s attention the moment she walked into a room… and left them wondering where to look.

“Hiwatari-san, it’s still self-study time. Maybe don’t be so loud.”

Even though she suddenly called out to him so casually, Ikoi didn’t get flustered.

The only thing that surprised him was that she actually remembered his first name.

“It’s not like I’m being that loud. You’re the one walking around instead of staying in your seat.”

She pointed toward the desk Ikoi had been at just moments earlier.

The group of baseball guys sitting there were clearly thrilled that Hinawa was even looking their way.

“I was just helping them study for the midterms. They’re in trouble.”

“Ohh? So you’re close with those guys?”

“Not really. We talk sometimes, that’s all.”

Ikoi didn’t have any fixed group of friends he always hung around with.

To him, everyone in the class was equal—no one above, no one below.

If someone talked to him, he’d answer.

And if needed, he’d be the one to speak up.

“Right? Ikoi doesn’t really give off the vibe of being super close with anyone.”

Hinawa looked genuinely pleased that her impression was spot on.

There wasn’t a trace of condescension in her tone—no mocking, no mean-spirited teasing.

And that absence of shallow prejudice was exactly why people liked her.

Just talking with her had this strange way of giving you energy.

Her pure, unfiltered smile was dazzling, and before you knew it, you found yourself warming up to her.

She was a natural people-charmer.

“You girls are always together though.”

Ikoi glanced at the rest of the Fives.

Miyu Chigira greeted him with a soft little smile and a small wave.
Platina Kongouji only gave him a lazy side glance.
And Hari Suitengu? She didn’t even bother hiding it—she ignored him outright.