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There’s never a good time for monthly assembly, but E-Class would have to say that it's definitely worse on the main campus.
Chairman Asano, that stuck-up old fart, clearly has nothing better to do than waste everyone's time with yet another stuffy speech. "Perfect Pedagogy: Maintaining the Best Educational System Possible," he'd titled his lecture.
The fact that he'd thought to name his own lecture shows how pretentious the man is. "I'm a teacher of the highest caliber," he seems to be saying, "so I must make sure to remind everyone of this fact with a title that's as big as my head."
"Students of Kunugigaoka, our education system is one of the best in the world and is to be commended," Asano drones on, his voice like a slow-acting sedative. "However, one must be willing to put in the necessary effort to maintain the integrity of the school's reputation."
"Thus, I will now discuss the importance of adhering to the school's rules and regulations..." Asano continues on for what feels like hours, droning on about every single rule and regulation in existence.
Yoshida yawns. "This is so boring..." he drawls, his eyes drooping and his head lolling to the side. "I wanna fall asleep right now."
Terasaka is no better off. He's scrolling through Tiktok, but he's at least smart enough to have his volume on mute. "Oi, you guys see this?" he whispers, his finger sliding over his screen. "There's a video here that tells you how to make cheese out of chocolate milk."
Yoshida makes fake dry-heaving sounds. "What? That's disgusting!" he exclaims, shuddering. "I bet not even Koro-sensei would eat that!"
"Yeah, and it's impossible, anyway." Muramatsu adds. "You need bacteria for that. Something about cultures and fermentation?"
Terasaka snorts. "I've got that handled." He whips out a carton and spits into it, smirking. "There. That's the best bacteria there is. Besides, it's worth a shot, right?"
Yoshida nods reluctantly. "Better than listening to him," he says, jabbing a thumb at the Chairman.
Muramatsu knows this isn't going to work, but he's at that ripe age in which peer pressure is the most effective. "Fine. I guess I don't have anything else better to do..."
The boys huddle together, squatting to conceal their illicit activities from the Chairman. They ignore the odd looks from their fellow E-Classers.
The first step is to heat up the milk. "Oi, Yoshida, do me a solid," says Terasaka. "Hold your lighter under it. About five minutes should do."
Muramatsu pulls out his phone and sets a five-minute timer.
Yoshida slips out his lighter and holds it under the carton. The carton begins to burn.
The boys' eyes light up with glee. "Now shake it a bit, give that milk some room to settle and stuff," Terasaka orders.
Yoshida shakes the milk, then holds it back in place.
Two minutes into the experiment, a sickly sweet and sour smell begins to waft from the milk. The boys ignore it, but by four minutes in, it becomes impossible to ignore.
"It smells weird," Muramatsu comments.
"Shut up, man." Terasaka growls, eyes fixed on the milk carton.
Five minutes comes and goes. Yoshida turns off the lighter. "It's done."
Terasaka shakes the carton. To his immense displeasure, there's not a single chunk of cheese. He frowns. "What do you mean, done?" he asks.
"It's been five minutes," Yoshida grumbles. "I dunno about you, but I can't hold my lighter for longer than that."
Terasaka's glare would have probably made a lesser man run. "Come on, we're almost done. Just a little longer!" he insists. "Surely, that won't hurt your limp noodle body." He flexes his triceps, rubbing it in his face.
Yoshida opens his mouth to respond, but his words are lost as the smell of the milk wafts over the gym.
Chairman Asano's eyes widen. "What is this... unorthodox stench? Who is responsible for this olfactory terrorism?"
Muramatsu swallows. He knows that in about thirty seconds, that smell will be traced back to the E-Class section.
The boys blanch, staring at Yoshida's lighter.
"Put that shit away!" Muramatsu hisses. Yoshida hurriedly jams the lighter into his back pocket, but he can't disguise the charring on the milk carton.
If the chairman sees the charred carton, he'll know the boys used a lighter. Despite the boys' disdain for rule-following, they've actually memorized the rules to aid in their troublemaking. Under the Prohibited Contraband section of the school handbook, lighters are categorized under the Weapons section. And according to the stupid handbook, bringing a weapon to school results in an automatic expulsion.
Well, not if you're a popular student with loads of cash, but definitely for some bottom-of-the-barrel delinquents like themselves.
Muramatsu exchanges glances with Yoshida. They're thinking the same thing: Terasaka has to take the fall.
Yoshida buzzes his lips. "PFFT!"
Muramatsu's eyes light up. He knows what to do. "Terasaka! You farted!" he shouts, dramatically pointing a finger at his friend. "You stinky piece of shit!"
The entire auditorium turns to look at Terasaka. Terasaka's face is red with rage. "Hah?! What you looking at me for?! I didn't do nothing!"
The other E-Class students turn their heads, all of them eyeing Terasaka with disgust. "That smell is so strong," Shiota moans.
"Terasaka, how can you be so gross?" Maehara gripes.
Akabane grins, turning to Terasaka. "Wow. Talk about putting the toilet in eau de toilette!"
A ripple of laughter spreads through the gym, but is quickly silenced by an icy glare from the Chairman.
Terasaka grits his teeth. He wants to hit those jerks so badly, but he knows it'll only make his punishment worse.
"Terasaka. Do you take pleasure in defiling the air with your noxious flatulence?" asks Chairman Asano. His voice is colder than the popsicles the boys ate on their way down to the main campus.
He turns beet red but can't help but snicker at the stuffy words.
The Chairman goes on, ignoring his student's silence. "Do you think this is a laughing matter? Because I can assure you that this is not a laughing matter. You are disrupting the entire student body!"
He flushes, his laughter dying out. He fidgets, suddenly uncomfortable in the spotlight.
"Terasaka. Detention, for the next two weeks. One more offense, and you'll be expelled. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir..." He rubs the back of his head with his hand, his cheeks flushed.
"Good. Now, back to where we left off. The importance of maintaining the integrity of our school's reputation..."
But Terasaka doesn't care anymore. He's too busy wallowing in his shame.
Yoshida and Muramatsu notices his discomfort and feels guilty. It was necessary, and yeah, it was pretty funny, but they didn't really want to embarrass their friend.
"Sorry, dude," Muramatsu apologizes. "I'll cook you up a bowl of beef gyudon."
"Yeah, and I'll take you on a motorcycle ride," says Yoshida, patting Terasaka's shoulder.
He gives them a withering glare and cracks his knuckles, but he deflates, slumping.
Yoshida and Muramatsu sigh. They're gonna have to help their leader out of a slump again, huh...