Morning came way too clean.
The sunlight slid through my curtains like it had a job to do. No drama. No warning. Just bright April light, and the quiet kind of calm that felt fake.
I sat up in bed and stared at my ceiling for a second.
This is it.
My first real "day one" at Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School.
ANHS.
The place where Class D got tossed like trash.
And where Ayanokōji Kiyotaka smiled like a normal person while he casually held a whole class by the throat.
I rubbed my face, then rolled my wrist.
The Omnitrix sat there like it always did now—smooth, metallic, and too damn heavy for something that could turn me into a living nightmare. My sleeve was still pulled up because I slept like a slob, so the watch was fully exposed.
I stared at it.
It stared back.
I grinned.
"Alright. Today we play nice," I whispered.
No response. No glowing. Just that silent, smug presence like it knew it had already won.
I got up, stretched, and walked to the mirror. Silver hair. Red eyes. Athletic build. High school uniform hanging nearby, freshly pressed.
I leaned closer to the mirror and tilted my head like I was checking if the world's beauty standards had changed overnight.
Nope.
Still unfair.
I clicked my tongue.
"Yeah, you're disgusting," I said to my reflection. "Like, criminal."
My reflection didn't argue.
I grabbed the uniform and got dressed. The blazer was sharp, the tie sat right, and the sleeves were long enough to hide the Omnitrix if I kept my wrist low.
Good.
I adjusted the cuff until the watch vanished under fabric.
I wasn't going to stroll into a government school wearing alien tech like it was a fashion accessory.
Not yet.
Downstairs, the house was already awake.
The smell of breakfast hit first—miso soup, grilled fish, rice, and something sweet. Our cooks didn't know how to do "simple." Even a "normal morning" in this house looked like a magazine ad.
The dining room was bright and wide, sunlight catching the polished table. My family was already there.
Father sat at the head like he owned the morning.
Tetsuya Senju.
Dark purple hair, neatly kept. Red eyes, sharp and calm. He wore a tailored shirt like it was armor. His face was handsome in that cold, "you'll lose the argument before you start talking" way.
Mother sat across from him, quiet but present in a way that pulled attention.
Yumiko Senju.
Silver hair like moonlight, golden eyes that felt warm and dangerous at the same time. Even when she was just holding a cup of tea, she looked like someone people would stare at without meaning to.
And then, the youngest menace.
Mei Senju sat with her arms crossed, cheeks puffed like she was trying to look angry but couldn't fully commit. Purple hair, golden eyes. Same perfect genes, just packaged with more attitude.
The moment she saw me, her eyes narrowed.
"Late."
I looked at the clock.
I was early.
I looked at her again.
"You're lying," I said.
"I'm emotionally accurate," she snapped.
Mother's lips twitched. Father didn't react.
I slid into my seat like I belonged there—which I did—and picked up my chopsticks.
"Good morning," Mother said softly, but her eyes checked me head to toe like she was making sure I hadn't exploded overnight.
"Morning," I answered.
Father's gaze moved to my wrist, just for a fraction of a second.
My sleeve was down. The watch was hidden.
Still, my spine stayed straight.
He didn't say anything.
Mei leaned forward slightly.
"So… you're really leaving for three years," she said, trying to sound casual, failing badly.
I took a bite of rice and chewed slowly.
"Yup."
"You can't even come home for holidays, right?"
"Not unless they let me."
"And you can't just call whenever you want."
"That too."
Mei's mouth twisted like she hated the school personally.
"So it's basically prison."
I shrugged. "A luxury prison with karaoke."
Mei pointed at me with her chopsticks.
"Don't act like you're excited."
I smiled without warmth.
"Oh, I'm excited."
Mei blinked.
"Why?"
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling like I was tasting the thought.
"Because it's a place built to test people. A place where rules matter more than feelings. A place where everyone thinks they're the main character."
I looked back down at her, grin widening.
"And I'm going to be insufferable."
Mei's face pinched.
Mother sighed like she already knew this would happen.
Father finally spoke, voice smooth and controlled.
"Kojiro."
I turned to him.
"Yes, Father?"
He placed a thin folder on the table. No, not placed—set. Like a judge laying down a sentence.
"The school's rules," he said.
I glanced at it. "I know them."
"Say them."
I chewed my fish slowly.
Mei whispered, "He's doing the thing."
I ignored her.
Father's eyes didn't move.
I swallowed, then sighed like I was being forced to recite basic math.
"Dorm life. No leaving campus without permission. No outside contact unless authorized."
Mother added gently, "Even family contact is restricted."
"Right," I said. "Unless there's an emergency or special approval."
Father nodded once.
"The school is not a normal institution," he continued. "It is designed to observe behavior. It is designed to evaluate you."
I smirked. "So… it's a huge social experiment."
Mei scoffed. "He says it like it's fun."
"It is fun," I said.
Mother's golden eyes softened.
"Kojiro," she said quietly, "just… don't do anything reckless on the first day."
I looked at her.
My mother wasn't naive. She knew what kind of son she had. But she still asked, anyway. Like a ritual.
I gave her a relaxed smile—one that looked nice enough to make people believe it.
"Of course not," I said.
Mei immediately pointed at me again.
"That's a lie."
I shrugged. "That's a maybe."
Father's lips pressed together. Not anger. Not amusement either. Just that controlled patience parents use when they're dealing with a kid who's a problem on purpose.
"Your family name carries weight," Father said. "Act accordingly."
I tilted my head.
"Father. The school literally ranks students into classes. They already decided how much weight I carry."
His gaze sharpened.
I kept smiling.
"And honestly?" I added. "If they think Class D is where the trash goes… I might enjoy proving them wrong."
Mother's eyes widened slightly.
Mei looked conflicted, like she wanted to insult me but also felt proud.
Father studied me for a moment.
Then, quietly—
"You were raised well."
I grinned.
"Obviously."
Mei groaned into her hands.
After breakfast, the goodbye was… weird.
Not emotional, not dramatic. Not like movies.
More like a tense, quiet moment where everyone tried to pretend this was normal.
Mother hugged me first.
It wasn't a tight hug. It was gentle. Warm.
Her voice was near my ear.
"Be safe," she whispered.
I smirked.
"Mom, I'm me. I'll be fine."
She pulled back and looked into my eyes like she was trying to memorize my face.
"I know," she said. "That's what worries me."
I didn't have a good reply for that.
Father didn't hug. He offered his hand.
I took it.
His grip was firm.
"Aim high," he said.
I smiled like a knife.
"I always do."
Mei stood to the side like she didn't care.
Then she walked up and shoved something into my chest.
A small keychain.
It was a stupid little charm shaped like a purple flower.
I blinked.
Mei's cheeks turned faintly pink.
"If you lose it," she said fast, "I'll kill you. So don't."
I stared at it.
Then at her.
Then I gave her a slow, mean grin.
"Awwww. You love me."
"I hate you," she snapped.
I slipped the charm into my pocket.
"Sure."
She looked away.
Mother watched it all with a soft smile.
Father turned away first.
The driver took me to the bus stop, and my family stood at the edge of the driveway, watching.
The car rolled forward.
I didn't look back again until I was halfway down the street.
They were still there.
The bus stop was already busy—but I got there early enough to pick my seat.
The air smelled like spring and exhaust.
I sat down near the middle. Not priority seating, not the back corner. Just a good spot to watch people.
First day energy is always the same.
Everyone pretends they're calm, but their eyes are darting. They're sizing each other up. They're deciding who matters.
One by one, students arrived wearing the same uniform.
Some looked excited.
Some looked bored.
Some looked like they wanted to fight the world before breakfast.
The bus pulled up.
Doors opened.
We got in.
The bus started moving, and the city slid by like a video on mute.
The bus picked up more and more passengers.
More uniforms.
More faces.
A salaryman stood near the front, face twisted in irritation, clinging to the strap like it offended him. His eyes kept flicking around too much.
Yeah. You look like the type who's been slapped in public before.
An elderly woman got on at the next stop.
She wobbled like a leaf.
Nobody moved.
Of course.
Japan's "politeness" had a limit. And the limit was "I don't want to stand."
Then I saw him.
Blond hair.
Perfect posture.
A long pair of legs casually crossed.
A face that looked like it had never once apologized in his life.
He was in the priority seat.
Rokusuke Kōenji.
And he looked exactly the same as he did in my memories—just older, taller, and even more convinced the universe existed to admire him.
He slid his earphones in like the world was background noise.
I felt my mouth curl.
Of course you're here.
Then I spotted another familiar face a little further back.
Brown hair. Plain. Average at first glance.
Ayanokōji Kiyotaka.
He sat quietly, eyes half-lidded, like he was already bored with the entire planet.
Beside him sat a girl with long black hair, straight posture, expression cold enough to chill the bus windows.
Suzune Horikita.
She looked like she could insult you without moving her eyebrows.
I leaned back slightly and exhaled through my nose.
I'm really here.
More passengers entered.
Then—
A girl stepped in like she belonged to the sunlight.
Warm smile.
Bright eyes.
Soft, friendly face that made people want to relax.
Kikyō Kushida.
Even on a crowded bus, she looked like "good news."
She stood near the front, holding the strap, her smile still polite even as her body swayed with the bus.
And there's the mask, I thought. Perfectly made. Perfectly worn.
Kōenji didn't even glance at her.
The bus kept moving.
The elderly woman stood right beside Kōenji's seat.
Her knees shook.
An office lady beside her finally snapped.
Her voice cut through the bus.
"Excuse me! Shouldn't you give up that seat?"
Kōenji didn't even take out his earphones.
He looked up slowly, like she'd interrupted something sacred.
Then he smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile.
It was a smile that said, I'm entertained by your suffering.
"I'm sorry," he said with light, mocking politeness, "but why would I stand?"
The office lady's face flushed.
"You're in the priority seat! It's common sense!"
Kōenji tilted his head slightly.
"Common sense isn't law."
The office lady looked like she might combust.
The elderly woman waved her hand weakly.
"It's fine… it's fine…"
But the office lady wasn't done.
"Young people these days—"
Kōenji held up a finger like he was correcting a child.
"First," he said smoothly, "you are scolding me as if you are my superior. You are not."
The office lady's mouth opened.
Kōenji continued like he was giving a speech.
"I am in perfect health," he said, voice calm. "Standing would cost more energy than sitting. I dislike wasting energy."
He smiled again.
"And I dislike wasting my time."
The bus went quiet.
People stared.
Not because they were shocked.
Because they were relieved it wasn't them.
Kushida's expression tightened for a second.
Then she stepped forward.
Her voice stayed gentle, but there was steel under it.
"Um… I think she's right," Kushida said, looking directly at Kōenji. "The lady looks like she's having trouble."
Kōenji's eyes swept over Kushida.
His smile changed, becoming almost pleased.
"Oh? A pretty girl," he said. "I'm having good luck today."
Kushida didn't flinch. She stayed polite.
"I'm not asking to be rude," she said. "But giving her your seat would be… the right thing to do."
Kōenji blinked slowly.
Then he shrugged like he didn't care.
"I do not care about being right," he said. "I care about my satisfaction."
Kushida's lips parted.
She took a breath, then turned to everyone else.
"Everyone," she said, voice louder now, "could someone please give up their seat for this woman? Anyone is fine."
The bus stayed quiet.
People looked away.
Some stared at the floor like it had answers.
Some pretended not to hear.
Kōenji leaned back, smug as hell, like he'd won.
I stared at the scene for two seconds.
Then I stood.
Smooth. Calm.
And loud enough.
"Here," I said, and my voice carried without me forcing it. "Granny, you can take mine."
The elderly woman blinked at me like I was a miracle.
"Oh—no, no, I couldn't—"
"You can," I said, smiling lightly. "I'm young. I'm durable. I bounce."
A couple people chuckled awkwardly.
The office lady looked like she wanted to cry from relief.
Kushida turned fast, her eyes widening.
"Thank you!" she said.
Her smile was bright—too bright.
But it still hit hard.
I gestured toward the seat. "Please."
The elderly woman hesitated, then slowly sat down.
"Thank you… thank you so much," she whispered, bowing her head again and again.
I waved it off.
"Don't worry about it."
I grabbed the strap and stood beside the seat like it was nothing.
But I could feel the stares.
The quiet approval.
That soft shift in the air when a crowd decides someone is "good."
Aura farm, I thought lazily. Easy.
Kōenji finally looked directly at me.
His eyes narrowed in recognition.
Then his lips curled.
"Well, well," he said, loud enough for me to hear. "Senju."
I smiled.
"Rokusuke."
Kushida's eyes flicked between us.
"You… know each other?" she asked carefully.
Kōenji smirked like she'd asked something obvious.
"We've crossed paths," he said, like that was all.
I leaned a little closer, still holding the strap.
"We were kids," I said casually. "Our parents dragged us to the same rich-people events."
Kōenji's smile sharpened.
"You make it sound so dull."
"It was dull," I said. "You spent half of it staring at mirrors."
Kōenji placed a hand on his chest, offended.
"Even as a child," he said, "I understood beauty."
I laughed once under my breath.
Kushida stared at us like she didn't know whether to laugh or be scared.
I turned to her with a friendly expression.
"Kushida-san, right?" I asked.
Her eyes widened.
"You know my name?"
"I saw your student name tag on your bag," I lied smoothly.
It wasn't even a good lie.
But she accepted it because people like her always did.
"Yes," she said quickly, smile returning. "I'm Kushida Kikyō. And thank you again. That was really kind."
I nodded. "Senju Kōjirō."
Kushida repeated it softly like she was testing how it sounded.
"Senju-kun…"
Careful, I thought. Don't get carried away. Slow burn. Slow. Burn.
Kōenji scoffed quietly.
"You're collecting admirers already," he said.
I glanced at him.
"Jealous?"
Kōenji laughed—actually laughed—like the idea was so funny he couldn't help it.
Then he put his earphones back in and turned away, like the conversation bored him.
I smirked.
Yep. Same old.
When the bus finally stopped, we all spilled out like water.
And there it was.
The gate.
A natural rock structure, tall and wide, like someone had decided, Let's make the entrance look like a fantasy school and see if anyone questions it.
Students in uniforms passed through it in streams.
I stepped forward and looked at the campus beyond.
Huge.
Clean.
Too perfect.
A school that looked like a small city.
I exhaled slowly.
So this is where the "elite" are made.
Behind me, I heard a familiar voice—sharp and cold.
"Wait."
I turned slightly.
Horikita had stopped Ayanokōji near the entrance.
She stared at him like he'd offended her by existing.
"You were looking at me," she said. "Why?"
Ayanokōji blinked calmly.
"Sorry," he said. "I guess I was just curious."
Horikita's eyes narrowed more.
Ayanokōji continued, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"You didn't think about giving up your seat for the old woman, did you?"
Horikita didn't even hesitate.
"No. I didn't. Is there something wrong with that?"
Ayanokōji's mouth twitched slightly.
"No," he said. "Not really. I didn't plan to give up mine either."
Horikita looked unimpressed.
Then she spoke with that flat honesty that felt like a slap.
"I didn't give it up because it would've been pointless," she said. "That's all."
Ayanokōji sighed.
I watched them for a moment.
Two people standing in the entrance of a school built on lies, having a conversation that already sounded like a warning.
Yep, I thought. It's starting.
I walked past them without interrupting.
Not yet.
Class 1-D.
Seeing it printed on the board outside the classroom made my mouth twitch up in amusement.
Of course.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was mostly empty.
Sunlight cut through the windows.
Desks were lined up neatly.
Nameplates sat on each one.
I scanned.
Found it.
Senju Kōjirō.
I sat down.
Then I looked one row behind me.
Ayanokōji Kiyotaka.
Directly behind my seat.
I froze for a half second.
Then I grinned.
You've got to be kidding me.
This was perfect.
The main character was literally behind me.
I leaned back in my chair and rested my chin on my hand, staring out the window like I was bored.
Alright, Ayanokōji. Let's see you up close.
Students began to trickle in.
The room slowly filled.
Some were already chatting.
Others sat alone, pretending they weren't nervous.
Kushida entered and immediately greeted people like she was running for class president.
Her smile didn't drop once.
Koenji entered like the room should've applauded him.
He walked straight to his seat, didn't acknowledge anyone, and immediately started grooming his nails like he was on a private jet.
People shifted away from him within seconds.
Kushida glanced at me and waved politely.
I nodded back.
Then Ayanokōji arrived.
He walked in, looked around like he was measuring the room, then sat behind me.
Horikita came right after and sat beside him, posture straight, expression cold.
She spoke to him almost immediately.
"That's a heavy sigh for the first day," she said.
Ayanokōji replied calmly.
I didn't turn. I just listened.
God. I love being in the middle of canon.
The first bell rang.
The room quieted.
A woman walked in with a sharp presence.
A suit. A ponytail. Delicate features, but eyes that looked tired and strict at the same time.
Sae Chabashira.
She looked like discipline made into a person.
"Ahem," she said.
Her voice was firm, clean, and not warm in the slightest.
"Good morning. I am the homeroom teacher of Class D. Chabashira Sae."
The room straightened.
Someone—probably Ike—whispered something stupid like, "Damn, she's hot…"
Chabashira didn't even glance his way.
She continued like she hadn't heard anything.
"For the next three years, I will be your homeroom teacher. The entrance ceremony will be held in the gymnasium in one hour."
She began handing out documents.
"Read the guide. It explains this school's special rules."
Pages flipped.
The room filled with the sound of paper.
My eyes skimmed the rules even though I already knew them.
Dorm living.
No leaving campus without permission.
No outside contact except special circumstances.
Even family contact restricted without authorization.
Three years in a cage, I thought, amused. But the cage has a café.
Chabashira continued.
"This campus has facilities such as karaoke, theaters, cafés, boutiques… You can live here without needing anything outside."
Then she held up something.
A sleek device—part phone, part ID, built for the school.
"Your student ID device," she said. "It functions as your identification, your wallet, and your key to the campus facilities."
The room murmured.
Chabashira's eyes didn't care.
"This school uses what is known as the S System," she said. "Points."
She explained that points were currency here.
Then she dropped the bomb.
"You have already been issued 100,000 points. One point is equivalent to one yen."
The room exploded.
"What?!"
"100,000?!"
"Per month?!"
People started whispering fast.
I leaned back in my chair, calm.
Here comes the honey.
Chabashira raised a hand.
"You can spend your points as you like. You may also transfer points to others. However—extortion and bullying are not allowed. This school monitors such behavior."
She paused, eyes sweeping the room.
For a moment, it looked like she was about to end it there.
Then she said, "Questions?"
Silence.
People were too busy imagining shopping sprees.
I raised my hand.
Chabashira's gaze landed on me immediately.
"Yes?"
I stood up slowly, like I had all the time in the world.
"Chabashira-sensei," I said casually, "you said the points reflect our 'value' and that the school evaluates talent. So… are the points always stable?"
The room got quieter.
Chabashira's eyes narrowed slightly.
I continued, tone polite but sharp.
"Because if the school is evaluating us, then it sounds like the 'allowance' could change. And you mentioned monitoring bullying. Monitoring usually means cameras, tracking, or reports."
A few students shifted uncomfortably.
I didn't stop.
"So, should we assume this isn't just a free gift? That the system is watching us, and the points are part of a bigger score?"
The room went dead quiet.
Then—
Chabashira smiled.
Not a kind smile.
A small, amused one.
"Interesting," she said, sounding almost entertained. "Senju. Is it?"
"Yes, sensei."
She looked at me like I was a puzzle.
"You are correct," she said simply. "This school evaluates students. And yes—your points are connected to that evaluation."
Murmurs spread.
Panic started on a few faces.
Chabashira raised her chin slightly.
"But," she added, "you do not need to know the full details on your first day."
I smiled.
"Of course."
Chabashira's smile deepened for a brief second.
"Good observation," she said. "I hope you can keep that brain active."
Then her expression flattened again.
"That's all."
She turned toward the door.
"Enjoy your school life."
And she left.
The moment she was gone, the room erupted again.
"This is insane!"
"100k points is real money!"
"I'm going shopping right after this!"
People were already talking like the trap didn't exist.
Like the school was Santa Claus.
I exhaled slowly.
This was to be expected, but I still couldn't hold my exasperation.
You idiots…
I stood up again, not because I wanted to lead them, but because if I didn't speak now, Class D would sprint into a wall like it was tradition.
"Oi," I said, loud enough to carry without yelling.
A few heads turned.
I didn't smile. Not fully.
"I'm not going to tell anyone what to do," I said, tone calm. "But if the government is giving teenagers this much money… it's not because they love you."
A couple students laughed nervously.
I continued anyway.
"Spend whatever you want," I said, shrugging. "But don't act shocked later if the school takes it back. Or cuts it. Or twists it."
Someone in the back muttered, "Who the hell is this guy?"
I glanced back lazily.
"The guy sitting in front of Ayanokōji," I said, deadpan.
A few people blinked like that meant something.
It didn't.
Not yet.
Kōenji laughed from his seat, soft and amused.
"My, my," he said, waving a hand. "Senju speaks like a man who has already seen the ending."
I looked at him.
"Careful, Rokusuke," I said. "You'll make it sound like I'm smarter than you."
Kōenji smiled wide.
"That would be impossible."
The class stared.
Kushida looked confused again.
Yeah. Keep watching, Kushida-san. Keep smiling.
Hirata stood up then, stepping in smoothly like a proper class leader.
"Everyone," he said, voice friendly, "we're all classmates now. We still have time before the entrance ceremony. I think we should introduce ourselves and get to know each other."
People murmured in agreement.
I sat back down, satisfied.
Good. Hirata's doing his thing.
Introductions started from the front.
A girl named Inogashira froze mid-sentence, voice shaking.
Some people said, "Do your best!"
Others said, "It's okay!"
Kushida stepped in gently and said something calmer, something that actually helped.
"Take your time," she told the girl, smiling warmly. "No one's rushing you."
Inogashira breathed and finished.
The room relaxed.
Angel mask, I thought. Perfect.
More introductions followed.
Yamauchi talked too much.
Some guy exaggerated his "sports history."
Then—
Kushida stood.
Her smile widened like she was made for this moment.
"My name is Kushida Kikyō," she said brightly. "I didn't come here with any friends, so I'd love to become friends with everyone. After introductions, please share your contact information with me!"
A bunch of students reacted positively.
Of course they did.
Kushida sat down, cheeks faintly pink like she was embarrassed by her own kindness.
I watched her carefully.
You're not embarrassed, I thought. You're performing. But you're good at it.
Then Ike stood.
He grinned like he thought he was charming.
"I'm Ike Kanji!" he said loudly. "I love girls, I hate pretty boys, and I'm looking for a girlfriend!"
The girls stared at him like he was an insect.
Someone mocked him with fake praise.
Ike bought it instantly.
I almost laughed.
Then it was Kōenji's turn.
He didn't stand properly.
He placed his legs on the desk like he owned the classroom and spoke like an arrogant prince.
"My name is Kōenji Rokusuke," he said smoothly. "As the sole male heir to the Kōenji conglomerate, I look forward to meeting you… ladies."
A few girls' eyes sparkled after hearing he was the heir of a rich conglomerate.
Others looked disturbed.
Kōenji smirked, pleased either way.
I tapped my fingers lightly on my desk.
Still a freak. You can't help but like him.
I watched silently as the introduction of all the other students went on even introducing all the unknown nameless sie characters, they all varied, different introductions, different people and different reactions.
Its fun to see things like this that wasn't in the novel.
Then Hirata looked toward me, I inwardly smirked as I knew this was coming.
"Senju-kun," he said politely. "Your turn."
I stood.
The room looked at me.
I could feel it—the silent judgment, the curiosity, the stares from girls, the sharp looks from boys.
I smiled.
Not sweet.
Not shy.
A smile that said, Yeah. Look.
"My name is Senju Kōjirō," I said clearly. "Nice to meet you."
I paused just enough to make them wait.
"I'm not here to play hero," I continued, tone easy. "And I'm not here to make enemies on day one either."
I glanced around the room.
"But," I added, grin sharpening, "I am here to enjoy myself. So let's try not to make these three years boring."
A few people laughed.
A few looked unsure.
Kōenji laughed out loud.
"Excellent," he said, clapping once. "At least you understand the purpose of life."
I sat down again.
Then I heard the chair behind me shift.
Ayanokōji stood when it was his turn.
His introduction was… plain.
Almost painfully normal.
"No special skills," he added finally, awkward but polite. "I'll do my best to get along with everyone."
People clapped pitifully.
Hirata smiled brightly at him like he was proud.
Ayanokōji sat down.
I didn't turn around, but I smiled faintly.
Still trying to disappear. Cute.
Some people refused introductions and walked out.
Horikita stood up briefly and left as well, looking like she'd rather die than socialize.
Hirata looked slightly hurt, but Kushida comforted him quickly.
Introductions wrapped up in a messy, normal way.
Then people began exchanging contacts.
Kushida moved fast, collecting names and numbers with perfect charm.
She reached my desk and smiled.
"Senju-kun," she said warmly, "Can I have your contact info?"
I pulled out the school device and tilted it slightly toward her.
"Sure," I said. "But only if you promise not to spam me with motivational messages."
Kushida giggled.
"I won't!"
She leaned closer, fingers quick as she exchanged info.
She smelled faintly sweet, like shampoo and spring.
She looked up at me.
"Thank you again for earlier," she said softly. "On the bus."
I shrugged, playing it cool.
"It wasn't a big deal."
Her smile stayed.
"It was to me."
For a second, her eyes felt… real.
Then it was gone.
And the mask was back.
Soon, it was time.
We lined up and headed toward the gymnasium for the entrance ceremony.
Students filled the halls like a tide.
Different faces, different classes, different futures.
The ceremony itself was… normal.
Important people talked.
We stood too long.
We listened to things that sounded like speeches from every school ever.
I kept my face neutral the whole time.
Inside, I was laughing.
This place is insane. And everyone's pretending it's normal.
When it finally ended, the sun outside looked brighter.
It was noon.
Students poured out.
Most headed toward dormitories.
Others formed groups immediately—cafés, karaoke, shopping plans already being made.
I stood near the steps for a moment, watching Class D scatter like they didn't realize they were already in a game.
I rolled my wrist slightly under my sleeve.
The Omnitrix was still there.
Hidden.
Quiet.
A trump card no one knew about.
I exhaled.
Class D… Ayanokōji… Koenji.... Kushida…
My smile returned, slow and satisfied.
Alright.
Let's start fixing this class. And let's start poking the main character until he talks back.
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THE END OF CHAPTER~
AUTHOR NOTE: Feel free to leave any suggestions.