When class finally ended and our homeroom teacher stepped out, the usual rhythm of the room began. Some students left immediately, their chairs scraping across the floor as they rushed to freedom, while others stayed behind to chat or gather in small groups.
Yeah, "teacher," not "professor." This was still an academy, not a full university. Everything followed the same structure as the original high school setting; same homeroom, same class divisions, same social games. The only difference was that everyone here had been aged up to eighteen and above.
Among those who stayed was Hirata, the green-haired guy who'd promised earlier that he'd introduce me to his circle of friends. In this school full of sociopaths and self-serving geniuses, he was one of the rare ones who actually seemed normal; a genuinely good person, or at least that's how it looked from the outside.
The first person he steered me toward was Ayanokouji, a quiet boy sitting by himself. In Hirata's well-meaning but ultimately naive mind, he probably thought pairing two perceived loners together would make it easier for us to connect, a simple solution to a complex social puzzle.
Yeah, a loner, my ass.
That assessment couldn't be further from the truth. The ice-cold Horikita wasn't just beginning to thaw in front of Ayanokouji; she was already showing signs of a deeper, more personal investment. And it wouldn't be long before Kushida herself would be irresistibly drawn to him, albeit for her own twisted and manipulative reasons.
And that was just the beginning. There was also Shiina Hiyori, that quiet bookworm, and Kei Karuizawa, the queen of the popular girls, and countless other girls in different classes and years who would all find themselves inexplicably attracted to him for a myriad of different reasons.
This guy, Kiyotaka Ayanokouji, wasn't some isolated outcast; he was a goddamn hidden Casanova, a magnet for female attention who operated from the shadows of his own manufactured anonymity.
"Ayanokouji-kun, this is Yagami-san. And Yagami-san, this is Ayanokouji," Hirata said with his characteristic earnestness, gesturing between us. "I really hope the two of you can become friends. After all, you both seem like you might be a good match for each other."
Okay... This was already getting painfully awkward.
Ayanokouji gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod and reached out his hand, his expression completely unreadable. "Kiyotaka Ayanokouji."
I accepted his handshake, my grip firm and deliberate, matching his own neutral pressure. "Narcissus Yagami."
I watched his eyes, looking for any flicker of recognition or assessment, but they were just dark, placid pools.
"Yagami-san," Ayanokouji began, his voice a low, even monotone. "Perhaps you also have foreign blood in your lineage?"
It was a probing question, disguised as casual curiosity.
"I don't really know for sure," I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "My father never really wanted to talk about that part of our family history. It's a closed subject."
He accepted my deflection without a second question, and we lapsed into a heavy, uncomfortable silence. Neither of us knew how to continue the conversation, and neither of us seemed particularly motivated to try.
Hirata scratched his cheek and gave a small laugh, clearly trying to break the tension. "Well, that was a little stiff, huh? Let me introduce you to someone else, Yagami-san."
I gave a curt nod, grateful for the interruption, and moved to follow him through the crowded classroom.
Hirata then guided me over to where Kushida Kikyou was holding court, surrounded by a group of enamored classmates.
When she noticed us approaching, her expression brightened instantly. Her smile was flawless; too flawless, the kind that made you wonder what was hidden behind it.
"Oh, we already know each other, don't we, Yagami-kun?" she said sweetly. "After all, we've already exchanged numbers. So, we're friends already, right?"
To be specific, that "friendship" was just for show. She'd gone around collecting everyone's contact info like trading cards, announcing to the world that they were all her friends. Everyone except Horikita, Ayanokouji, and Koenji, who she hadn't managed to approach yet.
"Yes, we're friends, Kushida-san," I replied, returning her smile gently.
She looked pleased with that answer. "See, Hirata-kun? We're already friends. So, Yagami-kun, if you ever run into any trouble, feel free to come to me, okay?"
Her voice was cheerful, warm even, but something about it carried that faint, practiced tone of someone who'd said those words a hundred times before.
I smiled again, but this time, quietly, I wondered, did she really mean it? Or was I just another name in her contact list, another mask to match her own?
Afterward, we didn't linger any longer in that spot as Hirata guided me across the room toward Kei Karuizawa and her little circle of followers.
When we arrived at the periphery of her social circle, Kei's eyes lifted to meet mine, her gaze openly questioning and laced with a sharp, unmistakable vigilance that she didn't even try to hide.
Well, as the only guy who knew her dirty little secret, of course she didn't want me anywhere near her, let alone stopping by to bother the fragile, carefully constructed peace she had built for herself here. The last thing she needed was the one person who could shatter her entire popular-girl facade just standing there, a constant living reminder of everything she was trying to bury.
But she wasn't a genuinely mean person at her core, just deeply, defensively guarded, a cornered animal pretending to be a queen.
She flicked her eyes from me to Hirata, her voice carefully neutral as she asked, "What is it, Hirata-san?"
"Karuizawa-san... I just wanted to introduce you to him," Hirata replied, his tone calm and infuriatingly reasonable, as if he were doing nothing more than pointing out a pleasant piece of scenery.
I gave a simple, curt nod in her direction, a silent indicator that this was entirely Hirata's idea, not mine. I wasn't the one seeking her out.
"There's no need, Hirata-san. I already know who he is," Kei stated, her tone dropping into a note of cold, dismissive finality. It was a verbal door being slammed shut, locked, and bolted.
Hirata's friendly expression tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second as he processed the outright rejection.
He was smart enough not to force the interaction any further and simply nodded with practiced politeness. "We shall take our leave, then."
The atmosphere around us instantly thickened into something heavy and awkward, the silence screaming with the obvious failure of the introduction.
It was painfully clear that Karuizawa's rejection wasn't just a refusal; it was an urgent, almost desperate plea for me to get away from her, and the entire interaction had crashed and burned before it could even start.
Maybe I should've just used Arisu's identity when dealing with her.
It would've been simpler that way.
Hirata looked at me with an apologetic expression. "Sorry, Yagami-san. I didn't know Karuizawa would react like that…"
I cut him off midway through his sentence, my own voice stern and leaving no room for his misplaced guilt. "There's no need to apologize, Hirata-san. And thank you for bothering to introduce me to others, Hirata. But I think that's enough for today. After all, Ayanokouji and Kushida are already my friends. You've just seen for yourself that not everyone likes being forced into a new social circle against their will."
Of course, that was just the superficial, polite reason I gave him to stop this tedious walking tour. The real, raw reason was that I had just realized how utterly tiresome socializing truly was, and I had no desire to ever put myself through it again.
This constant fake smiling, these hollow greetings, and this entire pantomime of fake socialization was already grating on my nerves. I wanted it to end it right now.
When I was with my other female self, my Arisu, I never had to hold back a single thought. I didn't need to pretend to be nice, and I certainly never had to mince my words, not even inside the privacy of my own mind.
But this? This tedious performance for the benefit of people I couldn't care less about? It was draining the life and energy right out of me.
"But, Yagami-kun, it's important to…" Hirata began, clearly wanting to convince me to continue this charade, to give it another try.
I hurriedly interrupted him before he could build up any more momentum.
"We are friends, aren't we, Hirata? Since we are friends, then please, just take care of me and respect my decision on this."
Hirata let out a soft, defeated sigh, finally relenting. "If you ever have any difficulty making friends again, please tell me, Yagami-kun... I will gladly help you."
"I think Ijuin-san behind me needs much more of your help than I ever will," I said, deflecting his offer and gesturing vaguely toward the class otaku.
Hirata scratched the back of his head in a gesture of genuine awkwardness. "Uhm... He said that real interaction is too troublesome and, urgh…"
He didn't finish his sentence, but I knew exactly what he meant. The guy behind me was a hopeless anime addict who couldn't extract himself from his precious virtual worlds and harbored a deep-seated resentment for the complexities of the real world and the real, breathing women who inhabited it.
"Okay, I understand. And thanks," I said, not wanting to discuss the otaku's social failures any further.
Hirata gave a final, resigned nod. "Then, I will not bother you again, Yagami-san... Goodbye."
"Goodbye to you too, Hirata," I replied, waving a dismissive hand at him, feeling a profound wave of relief that this entire introduction arc was finally over.
Now, standing alone in the aftermath, I was forced to realize a cold, hard truth: I was utterly suck at this. Maybe, I never should have even considered pursuing something as tedious and demanding as friendship in the first place.
For a moment, I caught myself thinking of her again; Arisu. I missed her cute voice, her flirtarious smile, that quiet understanding between us that needed no words.