The bell rang, loud and clear, cutting through the monotonous hum of classroom chatter and signaling the start of the much-anticipated lunch break.
Almost instantly, chairs screeched against the floor as students stood up, laughter and footsteps filling the hallway.
Seijirou, however, was already on his feet before most of the others could even think about unpacking their bento.
Without saying a word, without sparing so much as a glance at his classmates or anyone else in the room, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked out.
The usual happened the moment he stepped into the hallway.
Conversations died down.
Students who had been cheerfully gossiping or joking with their friends suddenly froze mid-sentence.
The corridor became strangely hushed, as if his presence alone sucked out the air.
Some students pressed themselves against the walls, while others hurriedly ducked into their classrooms, pretending they had forgotten something.
All eyes darted to him, then quickly away, afraid of making direct contact with the infamous delinquent king, Kageyama Seijirou.
Seijirou ignored them all, his expression listless, his mind already far removed from their fearful gazes.
He walked with calm, steady steps, heading straight for the library.
Unlike the cafeteria, the library was usually deserted at lunchtime, making it the perfect place to gather information in peace.
When he entered, the heavy wooden door closed behind him with a soft thud, and the world grew quiet.
The library was vast, lined wall-to-wall with towering bookshelves.
The air was cool, filled with the faint scent of paper and dust, the kind of smell only a library could have.
Shafts of sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating floating dust particles that danced lazily in the air.
At the center of the library sat the counter, behind which the library clerk rested.
She was an elderly woman with gray hair tied into a bun, a pair of round spectacles perched on her thin nose.
She looked calm, collected, almost scholarly, her thin fingers flipping lazily through the pages of a book she was reading for her own leisure.
Seijirou approached the counter, his heavy footsteps echoing against the wooden floor.
The old woman raised her eyes at him, but unlike the students outside, she did not flinch or cower.
Perhaps she had seen far worse in her lifetime, or perhaps she was simply too old to be intimidated by delinquent airs.
"Grandma," Seijirou muttered, resting a hand on the counter. "Do you have books related to artificial intelligence?"
The woman closed her book slowly, blinking at him behind her glasses.
She pursed her lips, thinking.
"Artificial Intelligence…" she repeated softly, her tone thoughtful. After a pause, she shook her head lightly. "Nothing specifically with that title comes to mind. But you can try the books about programming. Aisle six, left-hand side. There should be books there that might help."
Seijirou gave a curt nod. "Thanks, grandma."
He turned without another word and walked toward the direction she pointed at, his footsteps soft on the carpeted section of the library.
He entered aisle six, where shelves stretched high with rows upon rows of books, their spines neatly labeled.
His eyes scanned each title methodically, moving from top to bottom.
He saw introductory programming guides, textbooks on C++, Java, and Python, even books on neural networks and robotics.
His finger trailed along the edges of the books as he walked, brushing against the spines as he moved deeper into the aisle.
Finally, his eyes caught sight of a book whose title made his brow twitch in faint satisfaction.
Artificial Intelligence: Concepts and Applications.
Perfect. He reached out to grab it, his hand closing in on the spine.
But just as his fingers brushed the cover, another hand appeared from the other side, slender and pale, reaching for the exact same book.
Seijirou froze, his eyes narrowing slightly, and turned his head toward the intruder.
What he saw made him pause.
Standing beside him was a young woman, her presence completely different from the timid Rei or the cold Haruka.
She had long, straight black hair that reached down her back, her bangs falling long enough to cover almost half her face, concealing her eyes in shadow.
A pair of round glasses perched delicately on her nose, giving her an intellectual look, though her slouched posture told a different story.
She wore an oversized, baggy jacket that looked out of place with the pristine school uniform, as if she was intentionally trying to hide herself beneath it.
What drew his attention the most, however, was the small beauty mole resting just beneath the corner of her lips, trailing faintly down toward the left side of her chin and neck. Subtle, but striking.
Kageyama Seijirou immediately recognized her.
Fujiwara Touka.
One of the heroines.
In the game, she was known as the quiet, reclusive genius.
An eccentric with unparalleled intellect, obsessed with computers, hacking, and programming, but socially withdrawn to the point of near invisibility.
The moment their eyes met—or rather, when she tilted her head just enough that he could glimpse one sharp eye glinting from beneath her bangs—he felt his chest tighten with an uneasy tension.
Of all people.
Why another heroine?
Touka froze for a moment when she noticed Seijirou's sharp eyes land on her, his usual fierce, almost predatory aura pressing down like a storm.
Her fingers twitched against the edge of her jacket sleeve as if she wanted to disappear into it.
Then, after a faint stutter of breath, she bowed her head slightly and stepped back, her hand retreating as she gestured with a nervous tilt of her chin for him to take the book first.
Seijirou didn't move right away. He watched her silently, the book now in his grasp, but his gaze lingered on the girl in front of him.
She stood awkwardly, half-hidden by her hair, her shoulders hunched forward as if bracing for rejection.
She looked so painfully unremarkable, so easy to miss that most people wouldn't spare her a second glance.
But Seijirou knew better.
He tightened his grip on the book, his mind flashing back to the game.
Of all the heroines, Fujiwara Touka was the strangest.
She was the only one who never ended in tragedy, and yet she was also the one who left the deepest unease in the hearts of the players.
In every route where she wasn't chosen, she remained obscure for a long time, a quiet background character who barely drew attention in the early chapters.
Just another face in school, her beauty smothered beneath that baggy jacket and those curtains of hair.
Forgettable, almost invisible.
But then came the middle stage.
That was the time when she would transfor.
She shed her cocoon of gloom, revealing the hidden brilliance underneath. Her long hair tied neatly, her posture straightened, her eyes brightened.
She became the kind of girl that could steal the spotlight in any room, cheerful and brimming with confidence.
And the reason for that transformation was simple: she have found the love of her life.
Not the protagonist.
Not even Seijirou.
Just some ordinary background character, a faceless NPC in the game's script.
And yet, with him, Touka flourished. She bloomed into an incredible beauty, a charming young woman admired and adored by those around her.
By the end of those routes, she didn't just stop at being a high school sweetheart. She ascended, becoming a titan in her own right—a popular, glamorous CEO of a multinational tech conglomerate, married to her boyfriend, happily living a dream life.
But that was only when she wasn't chosen.
If you did choose her… if you thought you were clever, that you had discovered the "hidden gem" heroine who would reward your attention with a secret golden ending… you were dead wrong.
Because in Touka's route, nothing changed.
She remained the same gloomy, timid girl.
No matter how many dialogue options you tried, no matter how much effort you put into raising her affection points, she never bloomed.
Her jacket stayed on.
Her bangs stayed down.
Her voice remained low and hesitant.
And your relationship with her? It rotted.
It got worse and worse until it inevitably collapsed into a breakup.
A guaranteed bad end.
And that was the cruel irony of Fujiwara Touka. No matter what you did, she would only ever be happier if you weren't the one by her side.
She could only grow, only succeed, only shine, when she was left alone to be chosen by someone else.
That was why she unsettled so many players.
Because you weren't just losing her. You were forced to watch her become her best self in someone else's story, while you sat there powerless, clutching your bad ending.
Seijirou clicked his tongue quietly, annoyed at the memory. Of all heroines to meet here, now, why did it have to be her?
He looked at Touka again. She stood silently, half-bowed, as if bracing for him to lash out, her pale fingers tugging at the sleeves of her oversized jacket.
Still the same gloomy aura. Still the same timid presence.
And Seijirou couldn't help but wonder.
Would she end up the same way here?
Would she too grow into a shining star if she was left alone?
Or was this world different enough that even her "script" might change?
He shook his head faintly, irritated at himself for even thinking this much about a girl he hadn't even spoken to.