The cafeteria was massive, far larger than any school dining hall I'd ever seen in my previous life.
Sunlight filtered through a series of skylights overhead, casting warm light across spotless tables and polished serving counters. Students lined up in orderly rows, chatting in cheerful voices while waiting for their turn. To any outsider observing this scene, it would look exactly like what you'd expect from a refined academy: elegant, peaceful, and civilized.
To me, though, it felt like entering a gladiatorial arena where I was scheduled to fight but hadn't been told the rules yet.
The moment Kaito and I walked through the entrance, conversations softened throughout the room. Not stopped entirely—that would've been too obvious—but they definitely quieted, voices dropping to hushed tones as eyes drifted toward us with what people probably thought was discretion.
It wasn't discreet at all.
Kaito moved through the cafeteria with the easy confidence of someone who'd walked this path a thousand times before, a familiar king navigating his castle. I followed half a step behind him, resisting the very strong urge to press myself against a wall and try to blend into the background like a poorly textured NPC that the game developers forgot to animate properly.
He stopped at a table near the windows—of course it was near the windows, because that's where important conversations always happened in these scenarios—and sat down without ceremony. I took the seat across from him, very aware of how exposed I felt with my back to most of the cafeteria.
Within seconds, at least a dozen girls had subtly repositioned themselves for a better view of our table.
Kaito unpacked his bento with the kind of practiced elegance that suggested he'd done this performance many times before. Everything was perfectly arranged: rice, vegetables, what looked like tamagoyaki, all presented like something from a cooking magazine.
Silence stretched between us, filling the space with awkward tension. Just long enough to become uncomfortable, but not quite long enough for me to justify breaking it myself.
Finally, he spoke.
"When the principal told me there would be another male student, I honestly thought it was some kind of administrative mistake."
I kept my expression as neutral as possible. "Believe me, I thought the exact same thing."
That was putting it mildly. I'd thought reality itself had made a mistake.
He studied me with that same analytical gaze from earlier, his eyes moving across my face like he was trying to read something written there in invisible ink.
Not hostile, exactly.
Not friendly either.
Just... carefully evaluating.
"You don't look particularly surprised by any of this," he observed.
I forced a small, tight smile. "Let's just say I had some time to mentally prepare myself for the situation."
'Bro, I was spiritually lost DAYS before I even woke up in this world', I thought but obviously didn't say.
His eyebrows drew together slightly, creating a small crease between them. "Most guys would be panicking right now if they found out they were the second male student in an all-girls academy. The implications alone would be overwhelming."
"I guess I'm not like most guys, then."
He made a soft humming sound in the back of his throat. Not agreement. Not disagreement. Just acknowledgment that I'd said something, that he'd registered it and filed it away for later consideration.
Across the cafeteria, girls continued glancing over at our table. Some did it subtly, pretending to look at something else while their eyes tracked us peripherally. Others were more blatant about it, simply staring with undisguised curiosity. A few had gathered in small clusters and were whispering among themselves like generals planning military strategy.
I reached for the cup of tea that had been provided with the standard lunch set, hoping the simple action would give me something to do with my hands and distract me from the scrutiny.
It was jasmine tea.
Of course it was jasmine.
The preferred beverage of slice-of-life protagonists everywhere, practically a genre requirement.
Kaito leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice even though no one was close enough to actually overhear us. "You understand that this situation is... delicate, right?"
"I do," I said simply.
"There's already tension building," he continued, his tone taking on a more serious edge. "This academy isn't used to change—any kind of change, really. And the students definitely aren't used to having choices."
When I heard this I I titled my head with a hint of surprise.
'So he always knew that he was in a kingdom filled with women who all wanted only him?'
Choices.
Routes.
Options.
In the original game, there was no second male character. No alternative. No competition for affection or attention. The protagonist existed in a carefully controlled ecosystem where he was the singular point around which everything revolved.
Kaito's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and he finally said it plainly, without euphemism or dancing around the subject:
"You being here changes everything."
I met his gaze directly, refusing to look away even though part of me wanted to. "I didn't make that choice neither did I ask to be here."
"I know," he said, and there was something in his voice, not quite sympathy, but maybe understanding. "I know you didn't."
A brief pause settled between us, and I could see him weighing something internally, deciding how much to say or how far to push this conversation.
Then, surprisingly, his tone softened just a fraction.
"Look," he said, "I don't dislike you personally."
He hesitated for just a moment, then added with brutal honesty:
"Yet."
Comforting.
Truly comforting to hear.
He sighed, and for the first time since I'd met him, he actually looked somewhat tired. "Just... don't make trouble. That's all I'm asking. Keep your head down, go through the motions, and let things settle naturally."
"I have absolutely no intention of causing trouble," I said, and I meant it completely.
He looked distinctly unconvinced by that statement, his expression suggesting he'd heard similar promises before and knew exactly how they usually turned out.
And honestly? I couldn't blame him for the skepticism.
Because I was unconvinced too.
Trouble didn't need intentions or deliberate actions to manifest. It only needed circumstances, proximity, and the inevitable momentum of narrative events that neither of us could actually control.
And right on cue, as if the universe itself had been waiting for the perfect moment to prove my point—
A shadow fell across our table, blocking the sunlight from the windows.
I looked up.
A girl stood there, holding a lunch tray with perfect posture and an expression of cool composure. She had long silver hair tied back with an elegant black ribbon, a presence that commanded attention without demanding it, and eyes that seemed to calculate three steps ahead of whatever conversation she was about to have.
The Student Council President.
Aria Valente.
High-ranking heroine in the game's hierarchy. Main route material, the kind of character whose storyline typically involved political intrigue, hidden vulnerabilities beneath a perfect exterior, and dramatic confessions in the rain.
A politician in a pleated skirt, basically.
Her gaze drifted over Kaito briefly, acknowledging his presence with a slight nod, then settled on me with focused intensity.
"Pardon the intrusion," she said, her voice perfectly controlled and pleasant in that way that suggested she'd practiced this exact tone in front of a mirror. "May I speak with the new transfer student for a moment?"
Kaito's polite smile tightened just a fraction, a tell so subtle most people probably wouldn't have noticed it.
I stood up slowly, uncertain what protocol demanded here. "Yes?"
She tilted her head slightly, evaluating me with those calculating eyes, taking in every detail of my appearance and probably my body language as well.
Then, in a voice that carried just far enough to be heard by nearby tables:
"I would like to formally request your attendance at tomorrow's student assembly."
The cafeteria went silent.
Not gradually this time.
Instantly.
Like someone had hit a mute button on the entire room.
Assembly? What assembly? And why did I need to attend it?
Kaito stiffened in his seat. "President, that's really not—"
She raised one hand in a graceful gesture that somehow managed to silence him without appearing rude.
"I believe the student body deserves proper answers and clarity regarding this unusual situation."
Her eyes remained locked on mine, unwavering.
"You are a disruption to the established order. A deviation from the norm. And this academy has a responsibility to address such matters sooner rather than later, for the benefit of everyone involved."
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry again.
So much for keeping a low profile and surviving until graduation.
Aria stepped back gracefully, maintaining that perfect posture, her voice cool and absolutely final:
"Please meet me in the student council room after homeroom today. We have arrangements to discuss."
Then she turned and walked away with measured steps, her silver hair catching the light as she moved.
Conversation resumed throughout the cafeteria almost immediately, but it was different now, heavier, more charged, crackling with speculation and interest.
Kaito exhaled slowly and rubbed his temples like someone fighting off the beginning of a migraine. "...And here we go. This is exactly what I was worried about."
I sat back down slowly, moving like someone in a daze.
Not speaking.
Not really thinking coherently.
Just acknowledging the simple, unavoidable truth of my situation:
Day one.
Lunchtime.
And I had already been publicly noticed, carefully evaluated, and formally summoned by the student council president for what was essentially going to be a political interrogation.
I'd wanted a quiet route through this world.
A normal, unremarkable route where I could just exist in the background.
A simple survive-until-graduation route that wouldn't cause problems for anyone.
Instead, I was being scheduled for what amounted to a public trial in what was supposed to be a dating sim game.
Wonderful.
Truly wonderful.
Spiritually speaking, I wasn't just lost anymore.
I was in complete freefall, and I couldn't even see the ground coming.