The Month of April
The petals of the cherry blossoms bloomed, carried across the country by gentle gusts of wind—like a soft, endless sea that bore with it the dreams and futures of all those preparing to begin a new chapter in their lives.
It was also the month when high school officially commenced—for Japanese high school students, of course.
For the freshly admitted, it meant imagining the joy of making new friends, embracing the so-called "high school life," and carving a path toward a brighter future—though the road ahead would be filled with twists and turns, much like traveling through a long and winding tunnel.
Something that many teenagers would eagerly anticipate.
But me?
I was certainly not one of them.
For I wasn't in the mood to go through all this high school nonsense again…
I had already experienced it in my previous world, before transmigrating to my new one—turned back into a teenager with raging, hormone-fueled impulses.
Which was incredibly troublesome for me, since the last thing I wanted was to be attracted to teenage girls. That would open a whole can of worms I had absolutely no intention of dealing with.
I never understood how those adult guys in fiction, after being transmigrated into a teenager's body, would go after teenage girls. Why not aim for older, more mature women? I mean, wine tastes best when it's aged.
Nevertheless, now wasn't the time to dwell on such things.
I tried to focus my mind on the lesson currently being taught in class, but unfortunately, I failed. It was the cruel and mind-rotting subject of mathematics—the bane of students like me, who hated it from the depths of their heart with a burning passion.
My crimson gaze shifted toward the window, where a soft breeze drifted in through the slightly ajar glass. The wind stirred my snow-white hair, lifting a few strands into the air before letting them gently fall back into place.
My eyes then wandered upward toward the "shapes" of the clouds—tiny white shapes scattered across the vast blue canvas, each carrying its own unique individuality.
"Mr. Gracior?"
A voice called out to me, pulling my attention back into the classroom. I turned to see the face of my homeroom teacher, Mr. Hikaru, wearing… well, whatever you call that expression that's somewhere between irritation and mild anger.
I'd honestly forgotten the proper term for it.
English had never been my strong suit either. I knew little beyond the basics and a handful of fancy-sounding words, nor did I care to improve.
I wasn't a man of many words.
"Yes, Mr. Hikaru?"
"Would you like to share with us whatever it was your eyes were so intently gazing at outside the window—something apparently more interesting than what I'm teaching on the board?"
I gave him a silent look, feeling the weight of my classmates' eyes on me. It made me deeply anxious. I was an introvert through and through, and having the attention of so many strangers was something my nature could barely tolerate.
And yet, I managed to maintain my calm, bored façade as I let out a tired sigh.
"Not much… just some clouds drifting across the vast canvas of the sky."
There was silence in the class, everyone remained quite, pin drop silence not even the sound of a pin dropping, let alone whispers, however this was not case for long, as the Mr Hikaru placed the chalk that he had in his hand and the book on the table.
"Quite the way with words you have, Mr. Gracior. But unfortunately, this is not the English period for you to show off your poetic skills." His voice grew a little heavier, as if trying to thicken the atmosphere. "This is math class."
"I know, it's just… it's math, you know? Not exactly my favorite subject. So it's really difficult for me to give it my wholehearted attention."
I tried to sound as polite as possible—well, polite for me, at least. I really didn't want to outright say that what he was teaching was nothing more than nonsense to me—because if I did, there was a good chance he'd send me to the principal's office.
And believe me, now was not the right time to meet that psycho woman—who, incidentally, just so happened to be an important character in the anime.
Right now, I just wanted to be left to my own devices, far away from whatever crazy antics the main characters were inevitably about to get themselves into.
Which was a pretty common tactic in these kinds of situations—in anime, novels, and games. However, it was usually a failure. Even if someone tried to avoid the storyline, they would eventually get dragged into it and end up becoming the target of affection for a yandere—a trope that was far too common.
Other equally ridiculous scenarios included stealing the spotlight from the main male character or ending up with a full yandere harem… another load of crap.
I'd already read enough of those to know the best method was to simply act like a normal student and go with the flow. If I tried to play the part of some edgy protagonist trying to "outsmart" the plot, I'd only be digging my own grave.
"I see. I perfectly understand," Mr. Hikaru said. "Math is something that not just you, but many, find uninteresting. But if you don't concentrate on what I'm teaching, how will you pass your exams? You may not like math—same goes for all of you—I know Gracior isn't the only one."
Before he could continue, I added, "That's true… but I don't have a need for it. I know the basics, and that's more than enough to run a twenty-five-trillion-dollar empire belonging to my family."
The family of my current body were massive business tycoons, owning multiple hotels under our name across various countries. I was here—or rather, the original Ezakiel was here—just to pass the time. Truth be told, I didn't need to attend school at all. The only reason I was here was because my parents, or rather Ezakiel's original parents, wanted me to at least have a high school graduation certificate—just so they could show off that I had technically finished high school.
"Twenty-five billion dollars?!"
"He's that rich?!"
"Hey, let me be your girlfriend!"
"What? Not fair—choose me instead!"
Those were the reactions of the students, their faces frozen in shock as my words about my family's wealth sank in. Mr. Hikaru, however, showed no surprise. Well, of course he wouldn't—the principal had likely already briefed him about my background, just as she had with the other teachers.
I had already received the email that morning.
"I know how rich you Graciors are—owning a twenty-five-trillion-dollar business empire—but the future is never certain," Mr. Hikaru said. He then paused before continuing, "However," he adjusted his glasses, "if that's what you want, then go ahead. I won't make you stand outside; that's not my style, nor is it a good way to make you understand. Besides, you aren't interrupting the class anyway."
He then picked up the chalk and the textbook, returning to the board to solve equations—leaving me to my own devices.
And thus, time passed. The periods slipped by until it was finally lunch break.
I rose from my seat and made my way toward the door. As I stepped out, a figure with short brown hair—its strands swaying gently as he moved—passed by me. His warm brown eyes radiated kindness, and a cheerful smile graced his face as he walked alongside his friends.
I recognized him instantly. And why wouldn't I? He was the central character of the world I was in—the world of Secret Magical Lovers, a yandere story.
Or at least, that should be the name of the series—if I wasn't mistaken. Truthfully, I didn't know much about it. Just a handful of tidbits, bits of lore, and a few arcs I'd picked up from online videos, anime clips, and summaries of the light novel volumes.
I was never a fan of the yandere genre. My sister, on the other hand, loved it—and it was through her recommendation that I first came across this series.
Speaking of the series, I couldn't help but wonder which version I was in. The anime, light novel, and manga each had their differences, even though the core plot was mostly the same.
I then walked toward the cafeteria. I wasn't hungry—I can't feel hunger—but I was going there just to act like a normal student. Fortunately, there were no mirrors along the way; if there had been, it could have been a very dangerous situation for me.