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A/N: Please don't give high ratings; three stars are enough. No gifts, just comments and discussion. I'm not doing this for money. I'm just practicing for original, long-term projects later. Also, the protagonist has no RC cells, so he lacks Ghoul perception. He can't see the non-plot Ghouls, like a missile without guidance.[I also added this cause Y'know mad respect for Author-san,Spam W in the comment]
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"Subaru-kun! Natsuki Subaru-kun!"
A sharp, impatient female voice sliced through the fog in his mind, snapping Subaru back to awareness.
His head throbbed, feeling as if countless needles stirred inside his skull. He struggled to open his heavy eyelids, and blinding white light forced him to squint.
What greeted him was a classroom.
The scent of old wood and chalk dust filled his nose. Sunlight streamed through the dirty windows, casting uneven shadows on the scarred desktop.
At the lectern stood a middle-aged teacher. She had her hair in a strict bun, with black-rimmed glasses on her nose. Her sharp gaze pierced through the lenses, fixed on him.
Around him were young faces in somewhat dated, dark-colored school uniforms—staring with curiosity, suppressed laughter, or simple indifference.
"Natsuki Subaru! There are limits to sleeping in class! Answer this question!" The teacher's voice rose an octave.
Subaru felt utterly lost. His heart pounded in his chest. The fear of a near-death experience still lingered, and now this absurd scene hit him harder.
He looked down at himself. He wore a dark blue school blazer over a white shirt. The wrist emerging from the cuff was slender and youthful, smooth with no signs of his true age.
This wasn't his body. Or rather… not the one he remembered.
[Detecting severe fluctuation in host's vital signs… Meeting emergency binding conditions…]
['Absolute Invincibility' System activating… Binding in progress… Binding successful!]
A cold, emotionless mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
[Core function activated: Granting host 'Superhuman Physique' optimization.]
[Optimization Projects:**
[・Basic Strength: Enhanced to 1000x ordinary human limits.]
[・Basic Speed (incl. neural reaction): Enhanced to 1000x ordinary human limits.]
[・Basic Stamina (incl. cellular vitality/recovery): Enhanced to 1000x ordinary human limits.]
[・Trauma Healing Ability: Enhanced to 1000x ordinary human limits.]
[Optimization complete.]
[Special Note: Due to insufficient energy, Ghoul perception ability cannot be provided. Host must locate Ghouls independently.]
[System energy depleted… Permanent shutdown…]
The flood of information rushed in so quickly that it nearly froze his thoughts. The mechanical voice fell silent as if it had never existed.
Then, an indescribable sensation surged through him.
He heard faint cracks from his bones. Muscle fibers felt like they were reorganizing and strengthening. His blood raced dramatically.
His senses sharpened impossibly. He could hear chalk scraping a blackboard in the next classroom, see the subtle veins on leaves dozens of meters away, and feel every cell in his body alive with explosive energy.
"Natsuki Subaru! Are you listening?!" The teacher's shout pulled him back to reality.
He snapped his head up and his gaze landed on the calendar on the classroom wall—April 15, 1998, Wednesday.
He quickly scanned the class schedule next to the blackboard, which displayed the school's name: Seijou High School.
1998? Tokyo, Japan? Seijou High? A teenager?
The flood of information crashed into him like a sledgehammer.
A plane crash… a brush with death… an absurd system… a body thirty years younger… thrown back in time to a Japanese high school in 1998?!
It was all as ridiculous as the bizarre dream.
Yet, the superhuman power within him, the hyper-real classroom, and the teacher's fiery glare made it clear: This was no dream.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. Memories began piecing themselves together.
A long-forgotten name struck him like lightning—Tokyo Ghoul.
In his own world, this anime—a mix of dark humor and brutal reality that somehow moved towards a "happy ending"—had captivated him in his youth. He'd watched it dozens of times, becoming very familiar with its characters, plot, and settings.
Kaneki Ken's painful transformation, Kirishima Touka's fierce protectiveness, Manager Yoshimura's tragic desire, Arima Kishou's power and fate… and those terrifying entities lurking in the shadows, looking human yet feeding on humans—Ghouls.
A cold sweat drenched his undershirt.
He scanned the ordinary classroom again, his gaze searching every classmate. Their once-normal faces now appeared cloaked in an ominous shadow.
He had crossed worlds… not into an ordinary 1998, but deep into the blood-soaked, grim universe of Tokyo Ghoul.
Just then, he noticed a few distinct figures.
By the window on the front left sat a girl with long, sleek black hair and a delicate profile. She focused intently on her textbook, a pen between her slender fingers, occasionally writing notes. She radiated an aura of gentle studiousness, peaceful like a painting.
But Subaru's mind instantly supplied her name and hidden identity—Yamori… no, wait. That wasn't right. The memory was scrambled. A girl… a Ghoul. The specifics were blurry, but the danger was unmistakable.
In the back corner of the room, a boy with a black guitar case seemed out of place. He sat upright, with short blue hair peeking out from under black-rimmed glasses. His gaze was overly calm, holding a sharp, scrutinizing edge. Even in his uniform, he exuded a confidence and pressure unlike a typical high schooler.
Subaru's heart raced—Arima Kishou!
The future "Reaper" of the CCG, undefeated and legendary. Here, now, just sixteen, already a Second Class Investigator. That guitar case likely concealed his weapon—a Quinque. He was clearly under orders, infiltrating this school on some mission.
Then there was a notable head of blond hair, leaning back casually in his seat, uniform jacket open to reveal a flashy t-shirt, a cynical delinquent grin on his face as he twirled a pen.
Tsukiyama Shuu? No, the timing and vibe were off. This was just a punk kid, a small-time troublemaker not yet touched by the bloody night that would change his fate.
Subaru turned away, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists.
Shock, absurdity, and confusion about the future twisted together, hitting his nerves. Yet, the immense strength beyond a normal human's provided a cold, solid anchor.
He had transmigrated. A system had granted him power and then vanished. He was at the starting point of the Tokyo Ghoul saga—Tokyo, 1998.
A dark stage of humans, Ghouls, and Investigators was beginning to unfold before him.
And he, a "transfer student" who knew bits of a future script, an anomaly with inhuman strength but no way to sense the predators surrounding him—how would he find his place in this harsh, yet oddly familiar world?
On the podium, the teacher's stern gaze was still fixed on him, waiting for an answer.
Subaru took another deep breath, suppressing the storm inside him, forcing his voice into the groggy, confused tone of a teenager just woken from sleep:
"Y-yes… I'm sorry, sensei. I was… a bit distracted."
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