First, he'd used her sweat-scented towel. Then he'd thoroughly massaged her feet—objectively degenerate behavior. So overall… her affection should've dropped, right?
Real-life affection points weren't like a video game—where you could just do a few interaction events and watch the bar rise, unlock a love route, and suddenly the girl's casting herself into your arms like she's under a charm spell, eager to try all forty-eight positions of Edo play.
No—real life didn't work that way. Feelings often plateaued. Sometimes, no matter how long you were around a girl, you still ended up just friends.
And if something did go wrong? That affection you spent months building up could vanish overnight like a sandcastle hit by a wave.
Because let's face it—reasons to like someone were hard to find. Reasons to dislike someone? Infinite.
Take your old best friend, for example. You haven't talked in ages. Then one day he messages you to borrow money. Are you really going to trust him like you used to?
Maybe, if you're sentimental—but you'd still hesitate, wouldn't you?
Money makes everything awkward. Conflicts of interest are affection-killers.
But Shion wasn't anywhere near that stage yet. Her feelings were still in the early bloom phase. It was way too soon to cash in.
And honestly, while Akira didn't know much about how to get women to like him, he was an expert in how to make them dislike him. That was thirty years of living as an unpopular man in his past life talking.
…Not that that was anything to be proud of.
So no need to fear getting yandere'd. This wasn't going to spiral into a love triangle bloodbath. Forget dating—he probably wouldn't even make it to a love rivalry.
Geniuses are just stepping stones on my path to becoming the supreme freeloader! Wahaha!
Akira cackled inwardly, drunk on his own chuunibyou thoughts, as he ran toward school.
And so, on the very first day of the new semester, he was already late.
Crossing the empty schoolyard, he entered the building, swapped into his indoor shoes, and reached the door of Class 1-A. Through the hallway window, he could see class had already begun.
And standing at the podium, teaching the first-period class… was none other than the person Akira knew best—his homeroom teacher, Kobayakawa Motoko.
And that made his brow crease in irritation.
If it had been any other teacher, he could've just slipped in through the back door and not worried about it. After a full semester of dealing with him, most teachers already knew what kind of student he was—a quiet, headphone-wearing, unresponsive delinquent. The quintessential problem child.
But Kobayakawa-sensei insisted on being a "responsible" homeroom teacher. She was weirdly obsessed with helping every last "troubled student." Especially him.
If he tried to sneak in now, she'd definitely notice. And she wouldn't just let it slide—she'd ask questions, even if she knew she wouldn't get answers.
All because, on his very first day after transmigrating, Akira had flailed around asking her for directions to his "home," and then never spoke to anyone else afterward. It gave her the wrong idea—that he was a selective mute who only opened up to her.
So troublesome…
Screw it. Might as well ditch this class and hang out in the infirmary.
He was about to turn and leave when he made eye contact with Kobayakawa.
Shit. She saw me.
Her eyes widened, and her face lit up with a delighted smile.
She was an adult, and yet she still wore her heart on her sleeve. Typical of a newbie teacher.
Kobayakawa quickly set her textbook down on the podium and strode over to the classroom door. She cracked it open, poked her head out, and called to the student who was already trying to flee.
"Kuroba-kun! First period's already started—why are you just getting here now?"
"..."
Akira stayed true to his signature style: total silence.
Kobayakawa was already used to this lack of response. She placed her hands on her hips, gave him the "what am I going to do with you" look, and waved him inside.
"Well, I'll let it slide since it's your first offense. Come on in."
Tch. What are you, my mom?
Stop spoiling your students like this!
Since he'd been spotted, there was no point in escaping now. Akira walked into the classroom through the front door, immediately becoming the center of attention.
He didn't mind the curious stares. He wasn't shy, and he didn't fear people.
But as he passed the front row near the windows, the class rep sitting dead center gave him a warm smile and greeted him.
"Good morning, Kuroba-kun."
"..."
Her classmates turned to stare at her like she was a rare animal. Their shock was palpable.
Akira ignored the greeting and kept walking… until she suddenly extended a foot under the desk to block his path.
Then, slowly and clearly, she repeated:
"Good. Morn. Ing. Ku. Ro. Ba. -kun."
Akira understood immediately.
She was saying: Don't ignore me.
Come on, Kuroba-kun. You can speak now, can't you?
If he ignored her again, she'd definitely get pissed… and Akira had already experienced what Hitomi Anri was like when she got mad. Better not poke that bear.
So, reluctantly, he opened his mouth.
"…Yeah. Morning."
"There we go."
Anri smiled, satisfied, and lowered her leg.
"Eh?!"
Behind him, Kobayakawa Motoko looked like she'd just seen a ghost.
And that's why he hadn't wanted to speak—it triggered a chain reaction.
Akira sighed internally. Guess I'll just ditch the "mute boy" persona altogether.
Maybe it was better this way. With his cover blown, Kobayakawa would stop babying him, and he could finally start enjoying a normal high school life.
He turned and bowed slightly toward the podium.
"Sorry, Kobayakawa-sensei. I thought it was still summer break… overslept. Won't happen again."
The excuse rolled off his tongue effortlessly.
Motoko gasped. Her breathing quickened, and her chest heaved with emotion.
"Kuroba-kun! You—you can talk again?!"
"Uh… yeah. My mutism cleared up over the summer…"
Really, it was just his Japanese proficiency hitting LV1.
"Kuroba-kun…! That's… that's wonderful…!"
She clapped her hands over her face, tears welling up and trailing down her cheeks.
Seriously? You're crying?
Akira watched dumbfounded as Kobayakawa's passion as a "newbie teacher with a burning heart" burst forth.
"Everyone! Let's give Kuroba-kun a round of applause! Today… he's been reborn!"
The classroom fell into stunned silence.
Akira wanted to die.
"Pfft…"
Hitomi Anri couldn't hold it in. She let out a delicate giggle—but, ever the lady, she quickly reined it in and began clapping first.
With the class rep leading the way, the rest of the class joined in one by one. A ripple of applause spread through the room—some hesitant, some enthusiastic. Someone even whistled.
"...!!!"
Akira broke out in goosebumps.
Are you kidding me?! I'm not Shinji Ikari—don't clap for meeeee!!
And that was how, thanks to his homeroom teacher and the class rep, Kuroba Akira—on the first day of the second semester of his first year—was officially reintroduced to the world.
A.k.a., his second debut.