and admire her from afar. But her newfound popularity didn’t sit well with everyone in our class. “Hey, new kid. Be a good girl and go buy me a Cheerio Cola at the vending machine downstairs, why don’t you?” said this new challenger as she waltzed up to Anzu’s desk and slammed a hundred-yen coin on top of it. It was Koharu Kawasaki—the aforementioned “hottest girl in class” according to popular consensus. With her bleached tawny hair in a permed, wavy, shoulder-length bob, her clearly less-than-finger-length skirt, and the backs of her indoor shoes crushed beneath her heels, she was pretty much a walking example of every possible school dress code violation. She was a very attractive girl, to be sure, but her haughty swagger and snobbish superiority complex definitely knocked her down a few rungs in my book. On top of that, thanks to all the rumors swirling around campus that she was dating one of the most notorious delinquents in the senior class, no one ever dared challenge her, which only inflated her ego all the more. With such a dangerous upperclassman at her back, it was plain to see how she’d remained the undisputed queen bee of our class for so long. “What’s ‘Cheerio’?” Anzu inquired, eyeing the coin suspiciously. “Wait, huh?” Koharu balked. “You’ve never heard of Cheerio before?” “Can’t say I have.” “Reeeally… Well, whatever. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can find it.” “Will a hundred yen be enough?” “’Course it will.” “Does it at least taste good?” “Uh, what does that have to do with anything?” “Do they have other flavors too, or just the cola?” “Just shut up and go already!” Koharu growled as she kicked the desk next to Anzu’s as hard as she could. Anzu didn’t even flinch. She just stood up, expressionless, and walked out of the classroom without a word.