Chapter 3: I haven't been brave since I was a child
[Student Profile Loaded]
Academic Ability: D
Intelligence: D
Judgment: D
Physical Ability: D
Teamwork Ability: D
Comment:Unremarkable. A walking corpse without dreams, ambitions, or pursuits.
With a heavy heart, Hiroshi Kirito walked toward the Year 1 Class D classroom.
When he arrived at the door, several students had already gathered inside. Some sat in their seats reviewing the school materials, while others simply stared into space. A few who already knew each other were gathered in small circles, chatting excitedly.
Kirito scanned the room and finally found his assigned desk near the back of the room.
He slumped into his seat, stuffed his backpack into the drawer, and immediately collapsed, burying his face in the desk.
What am I going to do?!
I can't believe I was actually assigned to Class D!
Doesn't that mean I have to see Ayanokouji every single day?
Isn't this the end of my peaceful life?!
At this moment, a terrifying delusion played out in Kirito's mind.
Under a dark, blood-red sky, Kirito was bound to a wooden cross. Standing before him was Ayanokouji, dressed in a black executioner's robe. His eyes were cold and ruthless as he held a long, rusty knife, repeatedly poking Kirito's fragile body.
Oh! How scary!
Kirito clutched his head and writhed in agony on the desk.
Go up against the Mastermind? I wouldn't dare to dream of it!
He was just an ordinary person; how could he possibly fight against the ruthless White Room masterpiece?
Just because I know the plot?
But I only watched the first two seasons of the anime! I know nothing about the later light novels!
Oh no! This is really the end!
Kirito grabbed his messy hair, looking utterly dejected.
However, his strange, writhing behavior was witnessed by the student sitting to his right.
"What are you doing? Are you roleplaying as a dung beetle rolling a ball of manure?"
Hearing the cold, sharp voice, Kirito froze and looked up.
Sitting there was a young woman with long, flowing black hair and sharp, delicate features. She wore black knee-high socks that accentuated her slender legs, exuding a mature and icy aura.
If charm had a score, Kirito would give this girl an 85 out of 100—points deducted only for her prickly personality.
She lowered her paperback copy of Crime and Punishment and looked the boy up and down with critical eyes.
To her, he looked pathetic. His hair was messy, his eyes held a hint of foolishness, and his features were painfully average. Overall, he was unremarkable and had no redeeming qualities.
As the girl sized up Kirito, he immediately recognized her.
Horikita Suzune.
A character with massive personality flaws, incredible arrogance, and a severe brother complex.
Her purpose in coming to this school is simple: to catch up with her brother, Student Council President Manabu Horikita, and prove herself to him.
Wait... that's strange.
Kirito blinked. I remember in the anime, Horikita was supposed to be sitting next to Ayanokouji, right?
Why am I sitting next to her?
Kirito propped his chin on his hand and squinted at Horikita, then looked at the empty desk to his left—the seat right in the back corner, next to the window.
It seems my time travel has caused a Butterfly Effect! I stole her seat! I'm the meat in the sandwich!
"Weirdo."
Seeing that Kirito was staring at her with wide, impolite eyes, Horikita furrowed her beautiful brows. She knew she was attractive and that boys often stared, but for some reason, she felt a particular aversion to this boy's gaze.
It felt... condescending. As if he knew her secrets. It made her uncomfortable.
Weirdo?
Holy crap, I haven't even done anything yet and she's already calling me a weirdo!
Does my face look like it has "Pervert" tattooed on the forehead? Why does everyone keep calling me that?
Kirito looked at Horikita in disbelief, opening his mouth to explain that he wasn't a creep.
But her gaze had already returned to the pages of Dostoevsky. Her entire posture screamed: Don't bother me. I can't be bothered with you. Don't explain. I won't listen.
Kirito's face twisted in annoyance.
I'm speechless. It seems this label is stuck with me for good.
He sighed softly and decided to give up. So what if I'm a weirdo? Considering I princess-carried a grandma and ripped a guy's clothes off on the bus, the title is probably accurate.
Just as Kirito laid his head back down on the table, he heard the sound of a chair being pulled out to his left.
A handsome boy with brown hair and a listless expression slowly sat down in the window seat.
Kirito turned his head to the left.
His face instantly froze. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his teeth began to chatter.
He saw the missing button on the boy's collar.
Sitting to his left was none other than the ruthless man himself, Kiyotaka Ayanokouji.
Ayanokouji naturally noticed the gaze from his neighbor. He turned his head and recognized the boy—the "Creep" who had torn his uniform on the bus and ran away like a maniac.
Ayanokouji's cold, brown eyes held a hint of disdain. He hadn't expected the bus weirdo to be his classmate. He felt a rare, flicker of annoyance.
Looking at that dead-eyed stare, beads of sweat slid down Kirito's cheeks.
He swallowed hard, raised a trembling hand, forced a stiff smile, and squeaked:
"W-What a coincidence! I never expected we'd be in the same class!"
Ayanokouji simply stared at him for a second, gave a barely perceptible nod, and turned away to look out the window.
He ignored me.
Kirito was secretly pleased. Judging from his attitude, he probably disdains to pay attention to a nobody like me.
As long as I keep a low profile and stop provoking the Mastermind, I might just survive this high school life.
Kirito wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling a surge of relief.
It feels so good to be alive!
"Hey. You seem terrified of that boy."
Horikita glanced at Ayanokouji's back, then looked at Kirito with curiosity.
Kirito turned to her, leaned in, and whispered, "Was I... was I that obvious?"
Horikita looked under the desk at Kirito's legs, which were shaking so hard they looked like they were doing a tap dance. She nodded silently.
Kirito followed her gaze, looked down at his useless, trembling legs, and felt like crying.
He couldn't help it; he'd always been a coward.
He still vividly remembered his childhood trauma: his parents asked him to catch a chicken for Chinese New Year, and he ended up being chased and pecked by a flock of angry hens for an hour.
The memory of those humiliations made Kirito blush with shame. He buried his head in his desk drawer, looking like an ostrich burying its head in the sand—foolish, yet somewhat funny.
As his neighbors, Horikita and Ayanokouji both witnessed this bizarre behavior.
In that moment, they reached a silent consensus: This boy definitely has something wrong with his brain.
(To be Continued)