The classroom was an aesthetic crime scene.
Grey walls. Black screen. Beige desks. A color palette so lifeless it could induce existential dread. If you ever wanted a visual metaphor for a corporate dystopia, this room had it covered. But hey—after cramming a semester's worth of work into a single all-nighter? Everything feels lighthearted in comparison.
Well. Maybe not getting stabbed.
Though I wouldn't know. Never been stabbed. Probably not fun.
I stepped into the room—broadly modern and aggressively minimalist.
The seats were already filled, and naturally, I was the last one in. A group clustered at the front-right corner caught my eye immediately. Vibrant hair, loud personalities.
If this wasn't a fictional world, you'd swear they were a group of art students wasting tuition on "self-expression" instead of employability.
At the center of their conversation was a girl with pink hair, her red blazer fighting to stay modest. She spotted me and smiled, walking over with a hand extended like we were long-lost friends.
Her skin was fair, fingers slender—too smooth to belong to anyone normal.
"Hey! I'm Honami Ichinose. Looks like we'll be classmates. Hope we get along," she chirped.
I stared at her hand just long enough to make it awkward. Then I dragged my gaze up to her eyes—mine bleary and half-hostile, courtesy of yet another sleepless night.
Apparently, the curse of sleep deprivation had carried over into this world too. Joy.
"Hhm," I let out a grunt-sigh hybrid. "Will do… Little Miss Bubblegum."
With that, I turned and made my way through the desk maze toward the back-left seat by the window—obviously the main character spot. No schoolbag on the desk meant it was still up for grabs.
I left Ichinose hanging on purpose.
Why? Because I know her type. She'll go out of her way to be friendly with everyone.
So the more aloof I act, the harder she'll try.
Push and pull. Cold and warmth. A little mystery always goes a long way.
Why am I doing this, you ask?
Because, my sweet summer child, she's the future.
Class president. Decent person. No way she gets expelled.
In a few years, she'll be stacked with power and connections.
I'm just trying to get in on the ground floor.
I sat down, placed my small case-like bag under the desk, and rested my arms.
Around me, a few classmates muttered and shot me dirty looks, no doubt offended on Ichinose's behalf.
Cute.
Little tantrums from kids who think glaring is a form of combat.
If only they knew the trauma that was fluid dynamics—that's a real enemy.
I chuckled to myself and let my head fall onto folded arms.
Darkness.
Silence.
Peace…
"Norihito Watanabe?"
A soft voice called out, followed by a gentle shake.
I woke up from my dream of... nothing.
Blinking up, I found myself the center of attention with Chie Hoshinomiya standing at the front of the class. She had a paint look in her eyes.
I didn't remember much about her. I wasn't some COTE die-hard. It had been years since I read the novels.
But she looked more or less how I imagined: light brown hair, soft features, a pink top with flower patterns. Her smile was warm—but knowing this world, probably fake.
The entire class was staring at me.
A student was just finishing their introduction, walking back to his seat. So I guess it was my turn.
I glanced to my side—and there she was. Ichinose.
Right beside me.
Strawberry-pink hair glinting in the light, hand still half-extended from waking me up.
Why was she seated in the back row? I expected her to take the front.
Guess life's full of surprises.
I stood up, stretching slightly.
"Arrg," I cleared my throat.
"Good mornin'—or evening—pick your pleasantries. You already heard my name, probably multiple times. My bad. Deep sleeper."
I scratched my cheek, voice dry.
"I'm Norihito Watanabe. I like reading novels, learning weird stuff, and not getting involved in drama. If you've got beef or baggage, go vent to a wall. I don't care.
Oh—oops. Slip of the tongue.
Anyway, that's it. Thanks. I'll be in your care. Or not."
I dropped back into my seat.
Ichinose blinked. The teacher blinked.
A beat of silence.
Then Hoshinomiya laughed it off and transitioned smoothly into her explanation about the school's unique system—how points work like currency, how we're evaluated, yadda yadda.
I didn't need to listen. I already knew the script.
Let them act like this is all new and amazing.
For me?
This was just chapter 1 . pre game knowledge the real trouble comes in the shape of a very much an emotional protagonist .
hahha