The faculty room of Shuchiin Academy smelled faintly of black coffee and freshly printed paper.
I stood outside the sliding door, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart. The adrenaline from my encounter with the centipede curse in the locker room was still burning in my veins, but I had to push it down. Panic wouldn't help me here. I needed to blend in.
Technically, today wasn't the first day of school. The semester had started three days ago, right when my past-life memories violently collided with Ren Ichijou's consciousness, leaving me bedridden with a massive fever.
I knocked twice and slid the door open.
"Excuse me."
Sitting at a desk near the window, buried under a stack of attendance sheets, was Shizuku-sensei. She was a sharp-eyed woman wearing a white lab coat over her dress shirt. I knew her well. Her father ran a major logistics company that was tightly allied with the Shuei-gumi. Growing up, she had essentially been an older sister to me and Raku—the kind of older sister who wasn't afraid to lecture us if we stepped out of line.
She looked up, her expression shifting from exhaustion to strict authority.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up," Shizuku said, standing up and crossing her arms. "Three days late to your first year of high school. I'm honestly just surprised you're walking under your own power, Ren."
I walked over and offered a deep, respectful bow. "I apologize, Shizuku-sensei. The fever was much worse than I anticipated."
She let out a sigh, picking up a rolled-up magazine from her desk and lightly thwacking me on the shoulder. It didn't hurt, but the familiarity of the gesture grounded me.
"Your father called the school himself to excuse you," she said, her tone softening just a fraction, revealing genuine concern. "He sounded incredibly worried, you know. He said you couldn't even stand up. I was half-expecting to hear your lungs had finally given out completely."
"I'm feeling much better, Sensei," I said naturally, offering a reassuring smile. And I meant it. The 'old' Ren was perpetually bedridden, isolated by his own fragile biology.
But with some miracle probably because of my transmigation 'Ren' body became healty.
"I respect Father, and I know how much pressure is on Raku as the heir, so I just want to focus on my studies and help them from behind the scenes."
Shizuku blinked, leaning back against her desk and studying my face. She was looking for the usual tired, sickly pallor, but I just met her gaze calmly. My posture was solid.
"Huh. Maybe that fever actually burned some energy into you," she muttered, a faint, proud smile touching her lips. "Good. Your father has enough on his plate with the Bee Hive gang without having to worry about you collapsing in the hallways. Come on, homeroom already started. Let's get you introduced before you miss first period."
Walking down the pristine hallways of Shuchiin, I kept my newly awakened 'Spirit Vision' dialed back as much as possible. I could still see the faint, blurry outlines of weak curses huddled near trash cans, but I refused to look at them directly.
Shizuku-sensei stopped outside the door marked Class 1-A.
"Listen up, brats!" she called out, sliding the door open. The chatter inside the room instantly died down. "We have a late arrival today. He's been out sick since the opening ceremony, so don't give him a hard time." She gestured for me to enter.
I stepped up to the podium, picking up a piece of chalk to write my name on the blackboard. As I turned to face the class, I took a quick inventory of the room. It was a surreal experience.
On the left side near the door sat Hachiman Hikigaya, looking completely dead inside. A few rows down, Chika Fujiwara was practically vibrating with energetic curiosity. And sitting right in the center row was Kaguya Shinomiya.
I recognized most of them. Back in my old world, these were just characters from popular rom-com anime I used to watch when I needed a break from my university coursework.
But here? They weren't just 2D tropes on a screen anymore. They were real, breathing people with their own lives, all mashed together in one absurdly elite high school. It was a bizarre crossover I never asked for, but I couldn't afford to get starstruck.
The moment Kaguya's eyes met mine, I braced myself. Her crimson eyes locked onto mine with an icy, calculating sharpness. Her posture remained flawless, her expression completely unreadable. She was dissecting me.
She was purely, coldly curious about the anomaly who had stared her down in the locker room with zero hesitation, and then casually walked away.
I smoothly averted my gaze, keeping my expression entirely neutral.
"Hello," I said, my voice steady. "My name is Ren Ichijou. I apologize for joining the class late; I came down with a rather severe fever over the weekend. I'm looking forward to studying with all of you."
It was a perfectly normal, unremarkable introduction.
"Right. Ichijou, your seat is in the back row, next to the window. Behind Kasumigaoka," Shizuku-sensei pointed with her clipboard.
I nodded, gripping my briefcase, and walked down the aisle. As I approached my desk, I glanced at the girl sitting directly in front of it.
Utaha Kasumigaoka was resting her chin on her hand, a notebook open on her desk. She had long, flowing dark hair and striking burgundy eyes that tracked my approach. We had gone to the same middle school, and she was one of the few who actually paid attention to me back then.
I pulled out my chair and sat down, quietly placing my bag by my feet.
"The fragile phantom of the Shuei-gumi actually makes an appearance," Utaha whispered. She didn't turn around, but her voice easily carried across the narrow gap between us. "How terribly dramatic. Are you aiming for the 'tragic, sickly intellectual' trope, or did you just get tired of staring at your bedroom ceiling?"
I didn't get flustered. I just opened my textbook and leaned forward slightly.
"Just a guy who finally shook off a bad fever, Kasumigaoka-san," I replied quietly. "No grand tragedies here. Just trying not to fall behind on the syllabus."
Utaha's pen paused. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing slightly. She was probably expecting me to either retreat into my shell or cough nervously, like the middle-school rumors of the Yakuza's glass-boned son suggested.
A tiny, amused smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "I'll be sure to keep the school nurse on speed dial, Ichijou-kun. Try not to pass out during the lecture."
"I make no promises," I smiled faintly.
As Shizuku-sensei began writing on the board, I finally felt a sliver of genuine relief. I had successfully integrated into the class, smoothed things over with my teacher, and established a baseline with Utaha. For a brief moment, things felt almost normal.
But as I leaned my chin on my hand and looked out the window, my *Spirit Vision* flared.
The sky outside was a clear, brilliant blue. But clinging to the side of the gymnasium building, perfectly camouflaged against the bricks to normal eyes, was a massive, shifting mass of cursed energy. It looked like a swollen, pulsing tumor with dozens of elongated, multi-jointed legs gripping the concrete.
There was no system prompt. No floating blue text telling me its grade or its stats. I didn't need the system to tell me anything.
The sheer, suffocating pressure radiating from the creature pressed against my chest like a physical weight. My Perception was screaming, drowning out the ambient noise of the classroom. My instincts, raw and primal, delivered a very clear, terrifying message: *If you look at it too long, and it looks back, you will die.*
It was vastly stronger than the centipede in the locker room. I slowly dragged my eyes away from the window, fixing my gaze firmly on the chalkboard, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.
High school was going to be a nightmare.