"I'm Katou Megumi. I like… sweets, cooking, and shopping. I look forward to everyone's support."
Her tone was gentle. Soft-spoken.
Her self-introduction was so ordinary, it practically faded into the background.
By the time Katou Megumi sat back down, most of the class had already forgotten her name.
All eyes shifted to the next person.
Yukima Azuma stood up.
"I'm Yukima Azuma."
Then he sat back down.
That was it.
A beat passed.
Kirisu Mafuyu stared at him coldly, her gaze sharp as a scalpel.
One second.
Two seconds.
Still no follow-up from Azuma.
Without changing her icy expression, she tapped her hand on the podium.
"Yukima-kun… you know the drill. After class, come to my office."
A beat of silence.
Then, snickers.
Someone stifled a laugh. A few couldn't hold back their grins.
In Japan, self-introductions at the start of the school year are a big deal.
Get it wrong, and you could find yourself socially outcast by lunchtime.
Azuma's one-line intro should've been a recipe for instant isolation.
But that didn't happen.
By the time introductions began, 70% of the class had already talked to him, 80% had formed a solid impression, and 90% knew his name.
So instead of being seen as weird, Azuma just came off as teasing.
Bold.
Rather than alienating him, the class saw it as part of his charm.
If anything, it made him stand out even more.
Then came Aki Tomoya.
He stood up, chest puffed out, and declared:
"Hi everyone, I'm Aki Tomoya, a true otaku. My favorite anime is Jujutsu Kaisen, and my favorite game is Doki Doki Literature Club!"
"Over spring break, I had a heart-racing moment, and now I've made it my dream to create the greatest galgame of all time."
"If anyone's into galgames, let's talk! I plan to start a club. After graduation, I want to build my own game company!"
He spoke with passion. With clarity.
Too much of it.
The moment the word "otaku" left his mouth, the air shifted.
Students near him subtly adjusted their chairs.
A few leaned away like he was contagious.
Their eyes said it all:
"Yikes."
The initial reactions were judgmental. Then they became distant.
A slow, quiet retreat.
No one knew who this guy was—he just barged into the room and started monologuing about galgames.
It didn't matter how smooth he sounded.
He'd just pegged himself squarely at the bottom of the social ladder.
Kirisu Mafuyu's brow twitched. A vein appeared on her temple.
She tried to be patient. She really did.
But when Tomoya showed no signs of stopping, she finally cut in.
"That's enough. Sit down. Next."
Tomoya paused, visibly disappointed, but obediently took his seat.
He didn't seem to care about the growing distance between him and the rest of the class.
Yukima Azuma glanced sideways.
Eriri, seated to his right, had her head lowered so far it nearly touched the desk.
She was clearly praying to disappear.
She didn't want anyone to realize she knew Aki Tomoya.
But she did.
In fact, the two had been friends since elementary school—bonded by a shared love of otaku culture.
Back then, Tomoya's unfiltered enthusiasm had gotten both of them labeled as weirdos. Bullied. Ostracized.
Eriri had eventually transferred to Azuma's school to escape.
With Azuma's help, she slowly rebuilt her social life—and herself.
They grew close.
Eventually became a couple.
(Though the story behind that would come later.)
Now, Eriri maintained two identities.
Outwardly, she was the elegant ojou-sama.
But deep down, she still loved anime, games, and all things otaku.
She just… didn't want the two worlds to collide.
Thankfully, the tension from Tomoya's speech quickly dissipated when a bright, red-haired girl skipped up to the front.
"I'm Kita Ikuyo!" she beamed.
"I want to be friends with everyone! Call me Kita-chan!"
"I love music and traveling, and I'm excited to be here!"
Her voice was clear and confident.
Her smile? Infectious.
With her cheerful energy and cute appearance, Kita Ikuyo immediately warmed up the room.
The cloud of secondhand embarrassment lifted.
The rest of the self-introductions flowed smoothly after that.
The first class didn't cover anything important.
And as soon as the bell rang for break—
"Yukima-kun."
Kirisu Mafuyu shot him a look.
The class burst into laughter.
Of course, the problem student would get called out first.
Azuma let out a theatrical sigh and followed her out of the classroom.
But once they were alone in the hallway, his carefree expression returned.
They walked side by side toward the teachers' office.
"Oh my, Kirisu-sensei. Bringing a student to the office this early?" a middle-aged female teacher teased.
Kirisu rubbed her temple, looking visibly drained.
"Yeah. He's a handful."
"Wait, me?" Azuma said innocently, pointing at himself.
The teachers in the office chuckled.
Kirisu gave him a light tap on the head. "Quit joking. Come here."
Azuma followed her to her desk.
"Honestly, I was worried about you," she said, sighing.
That kind of self-introduction usually spelled trouble.
But clearly, the class hadn't minded.
If anything, Azuma had already established himself as someone too charismatic to ignore.
Kirisu could see it clearly. As an adult, she was far better at reading social dynamics than the students.
But there was still someone she was worried about.
She furrowed her brows.
Aki Tomoya.
That boy had practically painted a target on his back.
Kirisu could already sense it: unless she kept an eye on things, he was headed straight for isolation—and possibly worse.
She made a mental note to monitor the situation.
But that wasn't the real reason she'd called Azuma here.
She got straight to the point.
"Yukima-kun, would you like to be the class president?"
Azuma blinked.
Class president?
With his looks, ability, and social pull, he was practically tailor-made for the job.
Kirisu was clearly hoping he'd take it off her plate.
But Azuma didn't even hesitate.
He shook his head.
Hard pass.