Yo!
Before proceeding, just a thing to note, all characters are at least 18 years old in this story, they're in a university rather than high school. and a fair warning, this story is more erotic and perverted than it is plot.
So if you're good with that, welcome, and if not, I highly suggest not reading this as its more crack and ero than what you'd be comfortable with.
On a different note for those who'd like to stay.
This story does follow canon but only vaguely, so some events would be ignored, some would happen, and others would be a different take on it.
We'd also have some new major/minor events. So if you canon fanatics, this story is also not for you.
Now, please enjoy.
Start:
Kiyotaka Ayanokōji, twenty years old and entering the first day of his new life at the prestigious Advanced Nurturing University (ANU), stood quietly on the crowded morning bus.
Through the window, he watched as familiar streets blended into an unfamiliar horizon, his reflection hazily flickering against the glass. After five long years spent under Matsuo's gentle mentorship—years in which he had learned deeply about ethics, morality, kindness, and empathy—the young man felt quietly hopeful yet uncertain about the experiences ahead.
He recalled Matsuo's soft-spoken wisdom, steadying his nerves as he prepared himself mentally for whatever awaited at ANU.
Around him, the crowded bus vibrated softly beneath his feet, its passengers murmuring quietly amongst themselves, each absorbed in their personal worlds. Kiyotaka glanced around briefly, quietly observing the fresh faces of his new peers.
His gaze settled briefly on one student in particular—a tall, strikingly handsome young man who held a handheld mirror with such poise and elegance that it seemed almost comedic.
The youth's long golden hair shimmered in the morning sunlight, each strand meticulously placed to perfection. With gentle, practiced movements, he adjusted his hair, completely absorbed in self-admiration.
Kiyotaka watched him silently, a subtle amusement tugging at his features as he briefly considered what Matsuo might say about such blatant narcissism.
It was pretty funny.
As the bus rolled to its next stop, the doors hissed open, and a wave of fresh sunlight spilled into the aisle. Moments later, a delicate voice chimed softly through the morning murmurs, effortlessly capturing attention:
"Excuse me, could I get through, please?"
The voice belonged to a stunningly beautiful girl who stepped gracefully aboard, her mere presence immediately drawing the eyes of nearly every passenger. Her dirty-blonde hair cascaded down around angelic features, framing wide, deceptively innocent eyes and a flawlessly sweet smile. Yet it wasn't merely her face that captivated as she walked past gawking strangers who gave her room.
Her university uniform strained enticingly over an outrageously voluptuous figure, emphasizing huge round breasts that pressed visibly outward, wide feminine hips, and a massive, plush ass that bounced and wobbled with each step she took, somewhat noticeable even with her skirt concealing her bottom.
It went without saying, but anyone who'd see her skirt flutter due to the wind and was behind her, would feel utmost happiness.
Finding no vacant seats as she walked and moved around, the girl moved further inside, gently brushing past other passengers until she stopped just ahead of Kiyotaka, her presence momentarily captivating him.
He quickly shifted his eyes away, silently scolding himself for being distracted, reminding himself of Matsuo's gentle teachings of respect.
At the next stop, an elderly woman boarded, her frail, trembling hands grasping tightly at a nearby pole. As she struggled to remain upright, her thin body swaying dangerously with the bus's rhythmic movements, the passengers around her awkwardly pretended not to notice.
Watching, Kiyotaka could only offer his condolences.
He'd have honestly offered her his seat had he been sitting. Alas, the only thing he could do was offer silent support.
Quite the transformation he had underwent in the past years.
When the white room had temporarily shut down when he had been fifteen, his…father, though certainly not deserving of such a title, had sent him to Matsuo who looked after him in the next five years or so.
Kiyotaka had changed much since then.
As the masterpiece of the white room lost himself in nostalgia. It was then that an impatient office lady stepped forward and directed her attention towards the handsome, blonde-haired youth elegantly seated nearby.
"Excuse me, young man," she addressed him firmly, her tone edged with barely concealed annoyance, "you're sitting in a priority seat. There's an elderly woman clearly needing to sit down. Don't you think you should offer your seat?"
The handsome youth paused briefly, turning his elegantly sculpted face slowly toward the woman, an amused smirk dancing across his lips.
"Hmm?" He tilted his head theatrically, inspecting her as if noticing her presence for the first time. "Ah, my dear madam, you misunderstand entirely. While it's true this seat is designated 'priority', surely I am equally deserving. After all, my comfort and mental state contribute directly to the betterment of our society as a whole."
The office worker stared, mouth slightly agape, disbelief etched clearly on her tired features. "What on earth are you talking about? She's elderly; you're young and clearly healthy!"
He chuckled softly, shaking his head in an elegant gesture of mild disappointment. "Yes, precisely. Healthy and young, therefore fully capable of using this seat to optimal societal benefit. Think logically: If I'm at ease, relaxed, and rejuvenated, will not my potential to positively influence the world far exceed that of someone whose prime contributions are likely behind them?"
The woman blinked rapidly, clearly caught off guard by the outrageous logic. "Are you serious? Can't you see she's struggling just to stand? Have a heart!"
"Oh, I assure you, I have a heart—one full of compassion and foresight. But tell me, madam, don't you see the passengers around me not also possess a seat? Could you not, equally, ask them the same? Priority seats are just seats. These obligations you preach of is demanded from everyone, correct?" His voice was melodious, dripping with polite derision.
As though to further compound her agony, he then added. "Have you not noticed how none of them stood up despite that?"
His words stilled the woman, whose cheeks flushed deep crimson. Indeed, most passengers were now awkwardly averting their eyes, deliberately ignoring the entire exchange to avoid involvement. She opened her mouth to respond but faltered, suddenly unsure.
At this point, the beautiful blonde girl intervened gently, her soft voice easily cutting through the silence. "Please," she said sweetly, turning her bright red eyes toward the seated youth, "I understand your reasoning, but surely, just this once, you could show kindness and offer your seat?"
Her earnest, innocent plea rippled warmly through the bus, and several passengers nodded silently in agreement, touched by her gentle sincerity. Yet the youth merely laughed softly once again, gracefully shaking his head.
"Your kindness truly is charming," he praised her gently, "but kindness, you see, is a gift any person here might bestow—not merely myself. Might I suggest you persuade someone whose importance and comfort are less integral to society's grand tapestry?"
With his polite refusal evident, the girl's smile faltered slightly before she turned her attention elsewhere, softly requesting another passenger relinquish their seat instead. Finally, embarrassed by their collective silence, another passenger stood reluctantly, allowing the elderly woman to gratefully settle herself.
Having resolved the situation, the girl returned to her original standing position, directly in front of Kiyotaka, a soft sigh of relief leaving her delicate lips.
Suddenly, the bus lurched violently forward, tires slamming into an abrupt pothole with a deafening jolt.
The blonde girl emitted a startled, adorable squeak as she lost her balance, her petite body thrown backward with helpless momentum. Before Kiyotaka had a chance to brace himself, her enormous, plush ass—soft, pale, and outrageously thick—collided powerfully into his groin, smothering him utterly beneath its overwhelming softness.
Her absurdly huge cheeks completely enveloped his lower half, molding intimately around his bulge and pressing deeply against him in a humiliatingly erotic instant. The tremendous, doughy mass jiggled and wobbled heavily against him, bouncing seductively from the force of impact, practically swallowing him in the dizzying warmth of her impossibly voluptuous curves.
Kiyotaka's cheeks flushed deeply, embarrassment racing through his normally composed demeanor.
Internally, he felt a familiar wave of resigned frustration—once again, his bizarre curse of attracting erotic misfortune had chosen the worst possible moment to manifest itself.
The girl's angelic face instantly went crimson, mortified horror widening her eyes as she pulled herself forward, immediately detaching her massive ass from his thoroughly overwhelmed crotch. Her skirt fluttered slightly, her thick cheeks wobbling noticeably as she spun quickly to face him, trembling with embarrassment.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I'm so, so sorry!" she squeaked shyly and loudly, face flushed deeply. Her delicate hands fluttered anxiously, smoothing her skirt down over her massive curves, desperately trying to regain composure. "I—I didn't mean—I'm really, really sorry!"
Kiyotaka took a quiet breath, steadying his embarrassment, his voice calm despite the internal chaos. "It's alright. Please don't worry about it," he reassured her softly. His outward neutrality masked the deeper awkwardness he felt within.
Now despite having learned to be truly kind and empathetic in the last five years, able to have feelings and being capable of sympathy and pretty much growing a consciousness, there was one thing about Kiyotaka that remained largely unchanged.
And that was the fact that he still struggled extremely to show emotions on his face.
He could feel them and with great clarity, but it was extremely hard for said emotions to be portrayed in his face. As such, he currently looked like an emotionally dead fish, someone who was just so dead and bored with life.
So much so that even what happened just now, didn't affect him externally, though internally it very much had.
The girl offered a shy, sweet smile, eyes cast downward in apology. "You're…really kind," she whispered bashfully. "Thank you for being so understanding."
Outwardly, Kushida remained the very picture of gentle innocence. Yet beneath the flawless, angelic mask, her internal world had erupted into a comedic, utterly furious maelstrom of humiliation, rage, and overwhelming disgust.
'I hate him. I hate him so much. I HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE HIM!' her mind screamed in hysterical fury, her thoughts looping chaotically with exaggerated disgust.
Her thoughts didn't end there. 'This worthless, shameless, horrible, disgusting pervert just pressed his filthy crotch into MY PRECIOUS ASS! My perfect, flawless, beautiful, incredibly massive ass! How dare he!? How dare this nobody, this utterly bland-looking creep, humiliate me so completely!?'
She discreetly glanced up at his face again, eyes flickering venomously behind her innocent facade.
Look at him, standing there calmly, like nothing happened! Like this means absolutely nothing to him! What is he, some kind of emotionless robot? Did he enjoy it? Ugh, of course he did—men are all disgusting freaks. He probably planned this entire thing from the moment she had stepped onto this cursed bus!
Her fists clenched subtly at her sides, knuckles white with restrained fury, even as she shyly nodded her head at his calm reassurance.
'Just you wait, you perverted expressionless freak. I'll never forgive you for this humiliation. Never! I'll make you pay—I'll destroy your stupidly calm life! I'll embarrass you a thousand times worse than you embarrassed me today, I swear it!'
Would she expel him? absolutely not.
That was being too merciful and she had a lot of pain and hatred and sheer utter agony to inflict upon him.
Oblivious to the hilarious extent of her internal rage, Kiyotaka merely stood quietly, feeling slightly guilty despite knowing he had no control over the incident.
Finally, mercifully, the bus rolled gently to a halt, arriving at the impressive entrance to ANU. Students began shuffling toward the exit, eager to escape the awkward tension lingering in the air.
Quickly stepping away, Kushida hurried to disembark, desperate to put distance between herself and the source of her exaggerated rage and humiliation. Her massive, outrageously thick rear wobbled heavily beneath her skirt, the doughy flesh rippling hypnotically as she stepped down onto the sidewalk.
Kiyotaka quietly followed after her, stepping out into the sunlight. Despite himself, his gaze drifted downward, subtly captivated by the immense, mesmerizing sway of Kushida's incredibly fat butt. Even after the humiliating accident, he couldn't entirely dismiss his appreciation of such overwhelming softness and seductive bounce.
Ahead, Kushida moved quickly, maintaining a perfect mask of gentle innocence, yet silently fuming beneath.
With quiet resignation, Kiyotaka sighed softly, hoping the rest of the day at ANU would be far less eventful than this unfortunate first encounter—utterly unaware of the hilarious yet dangerously potent vendetta now silently brewing against him.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After the assembly, Students gradually filled Classroom 1-D, quietly shuffling into seats as hesitant whispers and soft laughter echoed throughout the spacious lecture room. Kiyotaka stepped calmly through the door, momentarily pausing to assess his new environment before slipping unobtrusively toward an empty seat near the rear.
The classroom buzzed gently with nervous first-day energy. Small clusters formed, each student quietly gauging one another, uncertain yet hopeful.
Kiyotaka himself felt calm curiosity, quietly observing these initial interactions with subtle interest.
University life promised new relationships, challenges, and opportunities—precisely the type of experiences he had prepared himself to embrace during his five years under Matsuo's gentle mentorship.
Settling comfortably into his seat, he glanced briefly toward his right, noticing a composed, dark-haired girl silently arranging textbooks and stationery with meticulous precision. Her black hair fell smoothly past her shoulders, framing a sharp, reserved face.
Her expression remained cold, seemingly detached, projecting an unmistakably solitary aura. He recognized her faintly from the bus ride earlier; she had been sitting quietly to herself, unnoticed by most passengers, absorbed in her thoughts. It seemed they would now be neighbors, seated quietly side-by-side.
Near the middle row, Kiyotaka spotted the strikingly handsome blonde youth from the bus.
He was seated casually, reclining with relaxed elegance, carefully adjusting his long golden hair using his handheld mirror.
His self-absorption appeared undiminished, earning him both curious and mildly annoyed glances from nearby students, yet he remained serenely indifferent to their attention.
Kiyotaka observed him briefly, mildly amused by the student's exaggerated narcissism, though he quickly shifted his gaze elsewhere, careful not to linger too long on any individual.
His attention shifted forward, casually scanning other classmates without dwelling heavily on anyone in particular. While he recognized the beautiful blonde girl from earlier standing among a group of chatting students, he purposefully avoided letting his eyes linger.
Memories of their embarrassing collision still quietly lingered, but he reminded himself to move beyond such incidents—focusing instead on calmly preparing for the upcoming homeroom.
As time passed, his observant gaze casually drifted across the classroom, noting subtle details most students were entirely oblivious to.
His attention sharpened as he began to detect multiple tiny surveillance devices subtly hidden throughout the room—not only tucked discreetly within ceiling corners but cleverly concealed behind certain areas that would make it extremely difficult to detect.
How very interesting…
While most students would never realize these devices existed, Kiyotaka quietly cataloged their locations, instantly aware of their true purpose: the university intended close observation of student behaviors, interactions, and perhaps even choices over time.
Before he could further dwell on the subtle implications, the classroom door gently opened, effortlessly commanding the attention of every student. A striking woman stepped inside, immediately quieting the remaining murmurs as she walked before standing at the lectern.
Sae Chabashira calmly surveyed Class 1-D, unaware or uncaring of her beauty mesmerizing most of her class.
Her face was stunningly flawless, and beautiful, framed by bangs of her dark brown hair that was untouched by the ribbon that caught most of her hair into a ponytail. Her delicate, pink, moist lips parted subtly. Her nose was button shaped, nestled between delicate cheekbones.
Beneath gracefully arching brows, almond-shaped brown-hued eyes peered calmly out, their profound depths veiled by lush sensual lashes.
A full ten out of ten in the face department.
Yet that wasn't the only thing about her that drew wonders and awe.
Her body too was responsible—curvaceous and outrageously feminine—that inevitably drew lingering gazes from students around the room. Her professional attire, a neatly pressed blouse coupled with a snug pencil skirt and sheer black pantyhose, valiantly struggled to contain her incredibly generous proportions.
Her chest pressed visibly forward, the massive, rounded curves of her ample breasts stretching the fabric so tautly it seemed ready to burst free with each subtle breath. The blouse dramatically tapered downward, hugging a remarkably slim waist before widening again to accommodate her lushly curving hips.
But unquestionably, it was Sae's thighs—her astonishingly thick, lavishly plush thighs—that utterly captivated Kiyotaka, and everyone else too. Her thighs were not merely full; they were absurdly, indulgently, obscenely thick. Smooth, dark pantyhose clung desperately to their overwhelming softness, every subtle movement sending gentle ripples through the luxurious flesh.
Sae cleared her throat gently, her rich, velvety voice finally slicing cleanly through the thick silence that permeated the classroom.
"Good morning, Class 1-D," she began smoothly, voice steady and reassuringly confident. "My name is Sae Chabashira, and I will be your homeroom teacher for the next three years."
She paused deliberately, allowing the significance of this long-term relationship to sink quietly into each student's consciousness. Her eyes, intelligent and quietly expectant, slowly swept across the room, briefly holding each student's gaze before calmly continuing.
"Before we proceed, there is something very important I must explain clearly—something you must understand carefully and completely." Her voice softened slightly, adding subtle weight to her carefully chosen words.
"As of today, each of you has received an allocation of private points deposited directly into your university-issued accounts. To put it simply, one private point is equivalent to exactly one yen."
Instantly, excited whispers rippled through the room, students eagerly tapping their phones to confirm their sudden wealth. Yet Sae waited patiently, poised and serene, allowing their brief moment of excitement before gently regaining their attention.
"These points are your currency within ANU," (ANU as in: Advanced Nurturing University) she continued softly, her voice quietly inviting their imaginations to wander freely.
"You may use them to purchase anything—" she lingered intentionally, emphasizing the word with subtle intrigue, "anything you desire within this campus. Food, clothing, books, electronics, entertainment, luxury goods, even personal services. Essentially, if you possess sufficient points, your possibilities here are nearly limitless."
Her voice resonated seductively, subtly encouraging fantasies of opulence and indulgence. The classroom buzzed gently again, imagination ignited by her enticing promise. Yet Sae, composed and patient, paused expectantly once more, her soft gaze quietly scanning for even one student willing to question her deliberately ambiguous explanation.
However, disappointingly, none did.
Students remained blissfully unaware of the subtlety carefully woven into her words, simply accepting the news of their newfound wealth at face value.
A barely perceptible flicker of disappointment passed momentarily through Sae's striking eyes, quickly concealed as she calmly continued her speech.
"Nevertheless, this freedom comes with considerable responsibility. Your choices and spending habits with these points directly reflect your worth as individuals and collectively as Class 1-D. While you currently have considerable freedom, managing these points wisely will be critical to your experience here."
She then added. "You might wonder how these points were determined. Simply put, they reflect the university's assessment of your worth—as individual students and collectively, as Class 1-D."
Her phrasing immediately piqued Kiyotaka's analytical instincts. He carefully dissected each word in his mind, quietly noting the subtle ambiguity:
Sae never explicitly guaranteed monthly allocations, never directly stated how frequently points would be granted. Yet the implication was so carefully veiled, so delicately crafted, that most students naturally assumed recurring monthly deposits without question.
Only Kiyotaka seemed quietly aware of her subtlety.
Sae waited hopefully again, silently inviting questions with her subtle expectant gaze. Yet once more, the room remained silent. With a gentle sigh of resignation, low and barely audible, she gracefully stepped away from the lectern, preparing to exit.
""If there are no further questions, this will conclude our introductory homeroom session today." She concluded smoothly before adding. "As your homeroom teacher for the next three years, I look forward to seeing how each of you decides to use your points," she offered quietly, voice carefully neutral.
Every eye followed her closely as she gracefully moved toward the classroom door. Most were hopelessly drawn to her lower body, utterly captivated by the mesmerizingly seductive sway of her hips and thighs.
Her thighs—so unbelievably, absurdly thick—rippled softly with each step, plush flesh jiggling heavily within the sheer pantyhose, the thin fabric stretched visibly thin as it struggled desperately against the immense softness beneath. Her massive, rounded ass visibly strained her skirt, each hypnotic step causing the enormous cheeks to wobble sensually.
Captivating nearly every student helplessly watching.
Kiyotaka himself, despite quiet resolve, found his gaze subtly drawn to her spectacularly voluptuous curves, quietly mesmerized by the erotic dance of abundant flesh that silently promised impossible softness beneath thin fabric.
After she exited, quiet excitement immediately rippled through the classroom.
"A hundred thousand yen to spend however we want—this place is incredible!"
"I can't wait to shop here!"
"Let me join you! the shopping malls are calling me."
"Did anyone else think Chabashira-sensei was insanely beautiful?"
"Forget beautiful—did you see her figure? How can someone look like that and still teach professionally?"
Kiyotaka quietly listened to the casual chatter around him, calmly evaluating his classmates' reactions. Most appeared entirely consumed by immediate possibilities, clearly excited by their newfound freedom.
It was kinda disappointing that they did not realise her hidden intentions, but to be fair, it's not like he bothered speaking up about it.
"Everyone, can you please listen to me for a moment?"
A clear, confident voice resonated gently through Classroom 1-D, immediately silencing the scattered whispers and nervous chatter. Kiyotaka turned his attention toward the speaker, observing him carefully.
The student standing up carried himself with the quiet dignity and charm characteristic of someone accustomed to leading others. His hair was neatly combed, and somewhat green in color, his eyes were sincere and open as he scanned the classroom.
"Starting today, we're all going to be classmates," he announced with a calm smile, effortlessly radiating warmth and confidence. "Therefore, I think it'd be good for us to introduce ourselves and become friends as soon as possible. We still have some time until the entrance ceremony. What do you say?"
For a brief moment, the classroom fell into a stunned silence. Students exchanged hesitant glances, clearly uncertain about whether to engage with such direct enthusiasm. Then, from somewhere within the hesitant group, a voice broke through the silence:
"Agreed! After all, we still don't know a thing about each other, not even our names!"
This encouragement shattered the initial apprehension. The room gradually filled with tentative nods and quiet murmurs of agreement, a subtle sense of relief spreading across the previously tense classroom atmosphere.
Reassured, the upright student smiled brightly and continued with ease, his voice becoming even friendlier. "My name's Hirata Yousuke. Back in junior high, lots of people called me Yousuke. Feel free to use my first name! I guess my hobby is sports in general, but I especially like soccer. I'm planning on playing soccer here, too. Nice to meet you!"
As Hirata finished speaking, a wave of admiration rippled through the class. His introduction had been perfectly delivered, effortlessly blending sincerity and charm, and immediately establishing him as a central figure among his peers.
Near Hirata, a girl blushed brightly, unable to hide her obvious admiration—her eyes practically sparkling with enthusiasm as she watched him. she wasn't the only one as numerous heart-shaped eyes popped up on the features of female students.
Hirata had, in mere moments, secured a significant level of popularity, likely becoming the linchpin around which class cohesion would revolve.
At the very least, that was the case among the females, how it was with the male students remained to be seen.
Hirata scanned the room again, smiling gently as he said, "Well then, I'd like everyone to introduce themselves, starting from the front. Is that okay?"
At the front row, a girl's eyes widened in sudden panic as she realized she would be the first to speak. She hesitated visibly, nervously tugging at her uniform sleeves before slowly standing up under the weight of expectation.
"M-my name is… Inogashira Ko-Ko…" Her voice trembled noticeably, faltering to an immediate halt. The classroom watched her carefully, a painful silence stretching unbearably as she stood frozen, words seemingly caught in her throat. Her delicate features grew pale, and the soft blush of embarrassment deepened into a more profound anxiety.
Encouragement soon arose from various corners of the classroom, voices gentle yet unintentionally forceful:
"Do your best!"
"Don't panic! It's okay!"
Despite their intentions, these words had the opposite effect, visibly heightening Inogashira's anxiety. Her slender shoulders tightened with tension, her fingers twisting anxiously in the fabric of her skirt. The silence intensified—five seconds, ten seconds, an eternity—and small, nervous giggles began to rise softly from somewhere behind her.
Then, from the far side of the room, a different voice gently offered reassurance. "It's okay to go slowly. Don't rush."
This simple phrase changed the entire dynamic. The kindness in the words was genuine, allowing Inogashira the space she needed to breathe, to slowly find the calm necessary to speak again. She took several deep, shaky breaths, eyes still shyly fixed downward.
Finally, with a renewed but delicate confidence, she quietly resumed, "My name is Inogashira… Kokoro. Um, my hobby is sewing. I'm pretty good at knitting. I-It's nice to meet you all."
Having successfully completed her introduction, Inogashira quickly sat down, her cheeks flushed deeply but her expression visibly relieved. A warm, supportive applause quietly emerged, acknowledging her bravery.
Following Inogashira was a boy who immediately sprang up, exuding energy and overly confident bravado.
"I'm Yamauchi Haruki," he declared proudly, grinning broadly. "I competed in table tennis during elementary school, and in junior high, I was the ace player on our baseball team. I was number four! I got hurt during the inter-high school championships, though, and I'm undergoing rehab now. Nice to meet you!"
Kiyotaka quietly observed Yamauchi's introduction, puzzled by its unusual and somewhat irrelevant details. He quietly noted the contradiction—junior high students wouldn't typically participate in inter-high championships. Yamauchi clearly seemed like the type who loved to embellish, easily caught up in his own enthusiasm.
And it seemed like he wasn't the only one who had suspicions about Yamauchi's claims.
Several deadpan and/or unimpressed gazes were sent towards the liar.
Ouch…
After Yamauchi sat down, the classroom's attention naturally shifted again, drawn instantly to the next speaker.
She stood smoothly, exuding warmth and friendliness that immediately softened the classroom atmosphere. Her dirty-blonde hair, brightly framing her delicate features, seemed to glow gently under the fluorescent lights. Her smile, radiant and inviting, effortlessly captured the attention of her classmates.
"My name is Kushida Kikyou," she began cheerfully, her voice sweet and clear. "None of my friends from junior high made it to this school, so I'm alone here. I'd like to get to know all of your names and faces right away and become friends as soon as possible!"
Kushida spoke with an effortless sincerity that captivated the entire class. Her earnest expression and welcoming eyes silently encouraged trust and openness.
"My first goal is to become friends with everyone," she continued warmly, her eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. "So, after we're finished with introductions, I'd love for you to share your contact information with me!"
Kushida finished brightly with…"So, after school or during vacations, I want to make all sorts of memories with lots of people. Please feel free to invite me to lots and lots of events! Anyway, I've talked for a long time, so I'll end my introduction here."
The room erupted into warm applause, clearly charmed by Kushida's bright presence. Kiyotaka quietly acknowledged her apparent popularity, mentally noting how effortlessly she had already become a central figure among their classmates.
The introductions continued until it was finally the turn of a student sitting near the back, who scowled openly at Hirata when prompted. His red hair immediately marked him as rebellious, and his sharp, aggressive gaze seemed to challenge the entire class.
"What, are we a bunch of little kids or something? I don't need to introduce myself," he snapped, his voice low and confrontational. "People who want to do that can go ahead. Just leave me out of it."
Hirata gently replied without losing his composure. "I can't force you to introduce yourself, of course. However, I don't think getting along with your classmates is a bad thing. If I've made you uncomfortable, I apologize."
Girls nearby murmured irritably, casting annoyed glances at the defiant student.
"Isn't it fine to introduce yourself?" one girl sharply asked.
"Yeah, yeah!" another quickly chimed in, clearly supportive of Hirata.
The red-haired student stood abruptly, eyes flashing defiantly. "Shut it. I don't care. I didn't come here to make friends."
Several students immediately followed his lead, rising and walking defiantly out of the classroom.
Among them was the cold-looking girl seated next to Kiyotaka, who quietly glanced at him before exiting. Hirata, left standing alone at the front, briefly showed a hint of loneliness despite his composed expression, watching quietly as they left.
"They're not a bad bunch," he murmured softly, mostly to himself, but loud enough for those nearby to overhear. His eyes were slightly downcast, guilt flickering in their depths. "It's my fault. I was being selfish and made people uncomfortable."
"No way!" Kushida quickly interjected, her voice brimming with genuine kindness. Her vibrant, innocent eyes fixed warmly upon him. "You didn't do anything wrong, Hirata-kun. Let's just leave those guys be, okay?"
Her encouragement quickly lifted the mild gloom, and Hirata's expression brightened slightly, relief settling over him like morning sunlight dispersing shadows.
With the tension somewhat diffused, introductions cautiously continued among the remaining students, laughter and casual chatter gradually returning.
Ike Kanji stood abruptly, his playful, mischievous grin immediately capturing everyone's attention. He raised a hand dramatically, clearly eager to be noticed.
"I'm Ike Kanji!" he declared exuberantly, eyes gleaming with exaggerated confidence. "I love girls, and I hate pretty boys. I'm currently in the market for a new girlfriend! It's nice to meet you! All the better if you're a cutie or a beauty!"
A brief silence filled the room, uncertain and awkward. Several girls cringed visibly, expressions twisting subtly with revulsion, clearly uncertain whether he was being serious.
"Wow. You are so cool, Ike-kun," one girl said dryly, her voice dripping sarcasm, completely emotionless. Her blank stare silently emphasized the absurdity of his introduction.
"Seriously? Seriously?" Ike responded excitedly, completely oblivious to the blatant mockery. His cheeks flushed brightly, a goofy, hopeful smile spreading across his face. "Oh, man. I mean, I thought I wasn't bad or anything, but…heh heh."
Laughter immediately erupted among the girls, giggles spreading contagiously. Another teasing voice joined in, calling out mischievously, "Oh, wow. He's cute, huh, everyone? He's looking for a girlfriend!"
Ike merely chuckled good-naturedly, jovially embracing their teasing, clearly undeterred by the playful ridicule.
The next introduction belonged to the dramatically flamboyant Kouenji, whose arrogance and eccentricity had already become evident to many. The striking blonde student from the bus had returned his handheld mirror to his pocket and now leaned back in his chair with a practiced flourish, elegantly placing both legs atop his desk as though claiming dominance over the classroom.
…
…
Hirata cautiously approached him. "Excuse me, Kouenji-kun. Would you please introduce yourself?"
Kouenji sighed dramatically, flipping golden bangs back from his handsome, aristocratic face with a graceful flick of his wrist.
"Hmph. Fine." He smirked imperiously, his gaze deliberately focusing only on the female students, his eyes gleaming suggestively. "My name is Kouenji Rokusuke. As the sole male heir to the Kouenji conglomerate, I will soon be tasked with carrying Japan into the future. I sincerely look forward to making your acquaintance, ladies."
Several girls whispered excitedly upon hearing about his obvious wealth, their eyes sparkling with undisguised interest. Others visibly recoiled, clearly unsettled by his eccentric behavior and blatantly selective attention.
He continued nonchalantly, his voice dripping with arrogant self-assurance. "Starting today, I will mercilessly punish anyone who makes me uncomfortable. Please exercise proper precaution to avoid that."
Hirata shifted uncomfortably, visibly anxious. "Um, Kouenji-kun, what exactly do you mean by 'punish'?"
Kouenji chuckled softly, eyes gleaming playfully yet dangerously. "Exactly what I said. For instance, I hate ugly things. If something ugly offends my sight, I would act accordingly."
With a flourish, he flipped his golden bangs once again, leaving Hirata smiling awkwardly, clearly uncertain how to respond.
"Well then," Hirata finally said, forcing composure into his tone, "time for the next person. Please introduce yourself."
"Huh?" The word escaped Kiyotaka's lips involuntarily, startling him from his quiet contemplation.
Already...
Dozens of eyes immediately turned his way, waiting expectantly. Calmly composing himself, Kiyotaka rose smoothly from his seat, his posture relaxed yet confident.
"Sorry about that," he began, his voice steady and subtly appealing. "My name is Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. I don't have any extraordinary talents or dramatic backgrounds, but I'm genuinely looking forward to getting to know everyone. Let's all have a good time together, yeah?"
His delivery was simple, unpretentious, yet oddly charming, his calm gaze meeting several students warmly.
"It's nice to meet you, Ayanokouji-kun," Hirata replied earnestly, clearly pleased by the sincerity in Kiyotaka's voice. "I always want to be friends with everyone, just like you. Let's both do our best, okay?"
The class burst into warm applause, far more enthusiastic than Kiyotaka had anticipated.
Despite his internal discomfort at being the center of attention, he felt strangely reassured by their sincerity. Quietly, he retook his seat, content with how smoothly his introduction had gone this time.
End.
I hope you liked this chapter.
It was pretty fun to write overall.
More Chapters are posted on my patreon Feel free to check it out lads, here's the link
https://www.patreon.com/c/Demon_Knight939
And I'll see you all on the next update.
Peace.