What… what do I do? I'm being followed!
Gotō Hitori quickened her pace in panic. But—he quickened his pace too!!
Hitori felt the looming weight of a life-or-death crisis pressing down on her chest. Her brain went into overdrive.
That guy's wearing the same uniform as me, so he's probably just another student on the way to school… right? No—no, wait! Then why is it that whenever I speed up, he speeds up too?!
C-could it be that he noticed all the band merch I'm carrying, and he's trying to hit on me?!
She froze mid-step, stiff and wary, trying to turn her head back—but her neck felt like a rusted gear stuck in place, refusing to move.
No way, impossible. Asking someone directly is way too hard. If he shoots me down, I'll be annihilated—my very existence erased!
Then I'll never, ever be able to talk to anyone for the rest of high school.
…No, no, better to just wait for him to make the first move. But what if he's some kind of creep? That would be terrifying.
I-I need more time to observe him first.
But I can't turn around… ugh! Only one option left—
Hitori ducked her head and suddenly bolted forward, tearing through the crowd of students like a flash of lightning, straight toward the school gates.
Ah. She ran away.
Ishikawa Hayabusa couldn't keep tailing her anymore.
Still, he didn't particularly mind. Judging from how flustered she looked, she hadn't joined a band yet. That meant she was just a first-year like him. They were bound to meet again.
Besides—he'd already made up his mind. He was going to join a band and carve out a completely new way of life.
Not just experience it—live it.
"I'll create perverted music—music so perverted the entire world of perverts will have no choice but to listen!"
Hayabusa raised a finger dramatically to the sky, declaring his vow in a booming voice.
His declaration instantly drew the stares of nearby students, wide-eyed with shock, confusion, and pure bewilderment at the strange new first-year shouting at the heavens.
But Ishikawa Hayabusa didn't flinch. Bathed in their gazes like an emperor basking in the awe of his subjects, he strode proudly toward the school gates.
A few dozen meters away, behind a tree, Gotō Hitori peeked nervously at the stream of students entering the school.
Not that one… not that one either… aaah, which one was he?!
After finally finding someone she thought she might—maybe—possibly talk to, why did she just run away like that?!
Uuuugh… too many people. My stomach's twisting up… I think I'm gonna throw up…
She groaned, shrinking back into the safety of the tree's shadow, hanging her head low.
What a pitiful existence. Lower than a worm. I'm just… just a caterpillar. A pathetic little caterpillar…
Tap, tap.
Footsteps approached. Her personal bubble of safety was suddenly invaded, and Hitori's head shot up in alarm.
Using the instincts honed from his previous life, Ishikawa Hayabusa avoided the flow of students once he reached the school and began scanning his surroundings.
Socially anxious types, he knew, often didn't flee completely. Instead, they retreated to what felt like a "safe zone," from which they could secretly observe others.
And sure enough, in the corner of the schoolyard beneath a tree, that flash of pink stood out vividly.
He walked straight toward it.
He didn't bother masking his approach. His footsteps were loud and deliberate.
The girl flinched at the sound, trembling as she timidly peeked her head out from behind the trunk.
Her soft, cotton-candy pink hair had come loose and tumbled over her shoulders as she crouched awkwardly on the ground. Her skin was so pale it seemed untouched by sunlight. Her pastel tracksuit made her look almost fragile, delicate.
And in that moment, her wide, anxious blue eyes darted up at Hayabusa's face like a startled animal.
"Good morning," Ishikawa Hayabusa greeted her warmly, smiling. "Nice weather today, huh?"
Neat black hair. Deep brown eyes. A confident, dazzling smile.
Hitori's eyes went wide—and then immediately slapped shut as she clapped both hands over her face.
Ahhhh! My eyes! They're burning!
Why? Why did the very first person to speak to me have to be some max-level boss character?! Meeting the final boss right out the gate—this is too cruel!!
No, no—my soul, my soul is going to be scorched alive!
I can't breathe… I can't breathe…!
Meanwhile, Ishikawa Hayabusa stroked his chin, watching with an amused grin as the girl practically collapsed into the dirt.
Seeing it in person was even better than he imagined.
Terrified of people, yet secretly desperate to connect. Timid, overly self-conscious, with a mind bursting with anxious thoughts. Even the way she wilted beneath the shine of someone else's presence—it was all incredibly cute. And fascinating.
Compared to the old him—the one who gave up on growth entirely—this was a million times better.
"You alright?" he asked, leaning in slightly.
"A-ahhh—I'm sorry, sorry, sorry to bother you!!"
Hitori sprang to her feet like a startled rabbit, adrenaline giving her the strength of an athlete she wasn't. She bolted away at full speed.
"...Bother?" Hayabusa tilted his head, bemused. "I'm the one who bothered you."
It seemed, for now, that trying to befriend Gotō Hitori was a lost cause. Still, he wasn't worried. His true goal was to join a band. Once he managed that, it would be far easier to interact with her.
The bigger problem was… how exactly he was going to join in the first place.
Confession time: he couldn't play a single instrument.
The band's lineup was probably already full, too. He had no desire to shove anyone else out of the way.
Or worse—if his "true nature" got discovered, there was a much higher chance he would be the one shoved out instead. Ha!
With that thought, Ishikawa Hayabusa entered the school building.
He found his classroom, glanced around, and confirmed with some disappointment that Gotō Hitori wasn't in the same homeroom.
Classes began. The teacher gave the usual opening speech, followed by the customary self-introductions.
Arms crossed, fingers drumming idly on his shoulder, Hayabusa sat with an impatient scowl.
Ugh. How boring. Was this really the spirit of youth?
One after another, the students stood up. Boys recited their hobbies, girls shared their dreams. Some tried to sound interesting. Others kept it safe.
But slowly, more and more eyes—particularly among the girls—drifted toward the aloof, handsome boy sitting with an air of disdain.
Finally, the classmate in front of him sat down. It was his turn.
"Alright, next student," the teacher prompted.
Proud of every single word that came out of his mouth, Ishikawa Hayabusa rose slowly to his feet.
He spoke clearly and loudly.
"I am a pervert."
The words thundered across the classroom.
Every student froze. Their eyes blinked furiously, as if trying to reset reality. The sight before them and the sound in their ears simply didn't match.
Hayabusa scanned the room like an emperor, basking in their stunned silence.
Then, with conviction, he continued:
"I repeat—I am a pervert. Whether boy or girl. Young or old. Organic or inorganic. Regardless of structure, chemistry, or physics—"
His voice rose with passion until he declared each word like a hammer blow:
"I. Love. Them. All. That… is what it means to be a pervert!"
To everyone else, it looked like a madman raving at the top of his lungs.
Satisfied with their blank, shell-shocked faces, Ishikawa Hayabusa softened his tone into a gentle smile.
"It's an honor to be here today and to become your classmate. I hope, in time, you'll all come to appreciate the beauty of what I've just said."
Deep down, he wondered if anyone would actually understand his meaning. Probably not. But he'd said his piece.
And then—he decided to take it further.
"Also," he announced boldly, "I've received my very first mission as a high school student: to become the Harem King! This is the ultimate chance to prove my power."
He swept an arm wide in a grand gesture.
"So! Please, everyone, sign up! Whether for yourself, for your brothers, your sisters, even your parents—"
"Give me your LINE IDs! Hand them all over! To me, Ishikawa Hayabusa, who cries out in glorious madness!"
He ended with a bow.
Then sat down.
The world fell utterly silent. Even the birds and insects outside seemed to have stopped.
The teacher froze for a long moment, paralyzed, while the students stared, completely at a loss.
Finally, in a mechanical voice, the teacher croaked out:
"…A-alright. Next student, please."