Gotou Hitori didn't just have one dream—
She had two.
[Gotou Hitori's Dream]
2. The Lonely Social Recluse Also Yearns for Friends!
Dream Level: ★★★
Dream Description: From childhood to now, she's never been able to integrate into groups. No friends, no lunch partners, only ever exchanging bentos with the teacher during field trips...
Gotou Hitori wishes to escape this tragic existence! Help her make real friends on campus!
Dream Reward: 5,000 Dream Points.
[Accept] or [Decline]
Touji narrowed his eyes slightly, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his desk.
After some consideration, he chose to accept only the second dream quest for now.
As an Apprentice Dream Weaver, he could only accept five quests at once—And worse, once accepted, they couldn't be abandoned.
He had already taken on two long-term dreams from Utaha-senpai. Accepting a third one, especially something as commitment-heavy as "form a band," would be reckless. Especially when he didn't even plan to form one.
Besides, with Gotou Hitori now enrolled at Toyosaki, there was no guarantee she'd even meet Ijichi Nijika like in the anime. After all—he had transmigrated. The flow of fate may have already changed.
If she did meet Nijika or the band thing started organically, he could always accept the first dream then.
No rush. Be patient. Touji's sharp eyes swept away from Gotou Hitori as he finalized his decision.
By now, most of the students had arrived. They were already clustering into small groups, chatting cheerfully and naturally forming their social rings.
The cliques were obvious.
The flashy gyaru types gathered at the back. Boys with trendy cuts and earring studs clustered near the windows. Sports types—loud and full of energy—gravitated toward the center. And the quiet, plain-looking ones stuck to corners like scared rabbits.
High school was supposed to be a fresh start— But in truth, people didn't change that easily.
Some tried to debut with a new look or personality, but it rarely lasted. Most fell back into their old habits and joined groups where they felt safest.
Touji watched all of this quietly.
Yamanoto Kuma-ji, too, seemed to lose interest in Gotou Hitori and turned to the rest of the classroom.
Relieved, Gotou Hitori slowly relaxed— She let out a breath, slumped like melted mochi onto her desk, and covered her face with her band magazine.
Ugh… I want to go home…
Meanwhile, Touji's gaze was drawn to a particular girl near the center of the room— Dazzling blonde twin-tails, impossibly fair skin, blue eyes that sparkled with mischief.
"Blonde? Probably mixed," Kuma-ji murmured beside him. "Half, maybe."
Touji gave a small nod. "Sawamura Spencer Eriri," he muttered. "It's in the name."
"What do you think? Cute, right?" Kuma-ji asked, nudging him with a sly grin.
"She's alright," Touji replied coolly, though his attention was clearly on the golden exclamation mark glowing above Eriri's head.
He wasn't focused on her looks— He was more curious about what kind of dream she had.
To be a world-class doujin artist?To draw a hit manga? Or maybe… something entirely unexpected?
"You call that 'alright'?" Kuma-ji's eyes widened. "Your standards are too freakin' high!"
He sulked, then muttered under his breath, "Well, I guess if I had a beautiful onee-san like Kasumigaoka-senpai at home, I'd be picky too…"
Kasumigaoka Touji smiled slightly to himself, but before he could say anything more, the classroom door slid open with a sharp clack.
A young woman strode in, wearing a crisp black office lady suit paired with semi-translucent stockings that subtly highlighted her long legs. Her shoulder-length hair was tied up in a loosely elegant bun, some strands falling carelessly over her forehead. She stood at about 160 centimeters, with a bodyline that was graceful yet exuded a subtle allure.
Her doll-like face was deceptively sweet, but her sharp, focused eyes dispelled any sense of gentleness. Her expression was severe, lips set in a stern line, radiating a no-nonsense attitude.
She was like a predator standing atop the food chain—dangerously elegant and exuding an oppressive aura that froze the room.
The classroom, which just moments ago was buzzing with chatter and introductions, fell completely silent. Chairs scraped against the floor as students scrambled back to their seats. Within ten seconds, the chaos had vanished, leaving behind a stillness so sharp you could hear a pin drop.
"Is everyone here?" the woman asked in a calm but commanding voice.
Her question hung in the air. No one dared to speak.
Satisfied with the silence, she turned to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk with practiced ease, and scribbled her name and contact details in clear, precise handwriting.
"My name is Kojima Kana," she began, turning to face them with that same piercing gaze. "I'll be your Japanese Language teacher and also your homeroom teacher for the year."
She tapped the board twice. "Please write down my contact information. If anything happens, you may come to me directly."
The students, as if under hypnosis, wordlessly reached for their notebooks and copied the details without protest.
"Now then," she continued briskly, setting the chalk back into the tray, "we'll be heading to the auditorium for the entrance ceremony. Line up in pairs and follow me."
With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
"..."
"Dude. We're so doomed," Yamanoto Kuma-ji leaned over to Touji, whispering dramatically.
"How so?" Touji asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That's Kojima Kana-sensei. She's only been at Toyosaki for a year, but her nickname's already 'Oni-sensei'. Some even call her 'Kojima the Demon'!"
Touji blinked. "Kojima the Demon? That sounds like something out of a horror game."
"It basically is!" Kuma-ji hissed. "She's terrifying! Rumor says even third-years and delinquents make a run for it when they see her. There are stories of students being brought to tears with just a look. No mercy. Zero tolerance. She's a full-on drill sergeant!"
Touji glanced thoughtfully toward the hallway. "Impressive..."
Kuma-ji adjusted his glasses with a self-satisfied grin. "Heh. I know, right? I'm always on top of school gossip. You got any questions, just come to your senpai here."
"You're in the same year as me," Touji deadpanned.
"Senpai in spirit."
They chuckled as they followed the stream of students out of the classroom.
Trailing behind, Gotou Hitori shuffled timidly out of the room, her oversized pink tracksuit making her look even more out of place among the uniformed students. Just as she passed through the doorway—
"Gotou," Kojima Kana's voice rang out like a whip.
The girl froze in her tracks. Slowly, almost fearfully, she turned her head.
The teacher narrowed her eyes. "Why aren't you in uniform? And what… what is that? A school skirt over sweatpants?"
Even the unshakable Kojima Kana paused at the bizarre ensemble. For a few seconds, the infamous Kojima the Demon had no idea how to react.
But for Gotou Hitori, reality distorted.
From her socially anxious perspective, Kojima Kana had morphed into a towering, three-meter-tall tiger—a fearsome predator with vividly striped fur and a bone-chilling aura.
"HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT THE DRESS CODE?!" the tiger roared, fangs bared.
"I-I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry—!" Bocchi-chan dropped into a perfect dogeza right there in the hallway.
Thunk.
The speed, the desperation, the precision—this was the dogeza of a pro.
Students gasped, some covering their mouths, and others looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Yamanoto Kuma-ji stared with awe.
"E-Eh?! N-No, please get up!" Kojima Kana stammered, clearly caught off guard. She crouched down quickly to help her up, her sharp demeanor melting for just a moment.
Because she bent forward, her tight OL blazer emphasized her curvy figure even more—
But nobody dared to ogle.
The students stood frozen like statues, praying to every anime god in existence that they wouldn't be the next to be targeted.
…