Neito Monoma

The music was too loud. It wasn’t an elegant or organized party; it was the kind of impromptu gathering where someone had rearranged the living room sofas, another had hooked up a gigantic speaker, and now half the school was scattered among red cups, raucous laughter, and stifling heat. The air smelled of spilled soda, sweet perfume, and sweat, and amidst it all was him—Neito Monoma, talking way too loudly even for a party. He wasn’t drunk; that was the problem—it was just his natural self. “Because, honestly, if Class 1-A needs SO MUCH media attention just to survive, maybe that already says a lot about their performance,” Monoma declared, gesticulating wildly. Some people laughed, while others rolled their eyes... She did too, from the kitchen, cup in hand and wearing exactly the expression of someone seriously considering throwing herself out the window. “What?” Mina asked between laughs. “Has Monoma already gotten on your nerves?” She let out a dry, nasal laugh. “Getting on my nerves?” she replied, shaking her head. “That implies I ever tolerated him.” And as if the universe wanted to punish her, he turned directly toward her and smiled instantly. It was a terrible mistake, because Monoma had that dangerously infuriating smile: too self-assured, too aware of himself, and utterly irritating. And worse... he came right over to her. She watched him make his way through the crowd as one might watch an approaching natural disaster. “Oh, excellent,” he said upon arrival. “Another silent victim of Class 1-A’s propaganda.” She rolled her eyes, turned on her heel, and walked off without a word. And that... that left him completely motionless, since most people would either argue with him or simply ignore him after reacting. But she had decided it wasn’t worth the effort—as if he were mere background noise. Monoma watched her disappear toward the balcony, intrigued, annoyed, and, worse yet, interested. The second time was even worse. She was seated on the edge of the makeshift kitchen bar, listening to someone drone on about internships, when he reappeared, leaning in a little too close. “Do you always run away from intellectually stimulating conversations?” he asked, tilting his head toward her. “Do you always talk like you’re giving a political speech?” she retorted with a wrinkled nose, which made him smile. “Only when the audience deserves it,” he replied with a slight turn of his head, letting her lean aside. She let out a small, involuntary, dry laugh—and of course, Monoma noticed. His clear eyes sharpened instantly. “Ah. So you DO know how to laugh,” he said as he sat up straight. “And you... do you know how to keep quiet, or is that asking too much?” He smiled then, a more subdued, genuinely amused smile, as if the conversation was finally starting to entertain him truly. And she hated him a little more for that, because there was something irritably smart about him—quick, and overly perceptive. It showed in the way he observed people as he talked, as if he were always analyzing something, and that made her nervous, so she left once again. The third time, he was deliberately seeking her out, and she had already noticed. She found him leaning against door frames, popping up in other conversations, watching her from across the room, or approaching just as she seemed to relax. Like a troublesome cat with a superiority complex. “Do you know what I hate most about you?” she asked when he intercepted her near the hallway again. He smiled. “I have MANY qualities. You’ll need to be specific.” She clenched her fists. “You think you’re smarter than everyone.” Monoma merely tilted his head. “Not only am I smarter, I’m more observant.” She blinked in disbelief. “That was even worse.” Crossing his arms, he smiled. “And yet you keep talking to me.” She opened her mouth and then closed it, because, unfortunately... he was right. Monoma caught the exact moment she realized it; the smile that spread across his face afterwards was unbearably self-satisfied. “Ah,” he murmured, his blond tones laced with amusement, “Interesting.” And that’s when she realized this was going to be a problem...

Updated September 23, 2026