The cherry blossoms lining the path to Kosei Academy were in full bloom, painting the asphalt in shades of pale pink.
As they entered the school grounds, the atmosphere shifted. The path to the main building was crowded with students, a sea of navy blazers and excited chatter.
But as Renji passed, the sea parted.
"It's Kamishiro-kun!"
"He's back! I heard he shot a campaign in Paris over the break."
"Look at him. He walks like he's on a runway even in uniform."
"Did he get taller again? How is that fair?"
Whispers trailed him like a wake behind a ship. Renji didn't show any obvious reaction, keeping his gaze forward and offering polite nods, but internally, he was soaking it all in. 'Being an untouchable 'Prince' definitely has its perks.' he thought, enjoying the massive ego boost. 'I'm never going to get tired of this.'
In this school, he wasn't just a student; he was a literal celebrity. His professional modelling career, combined with his family's immense wealth and his perfect grades, made him an untouchable existence to almost everyone. He was the "Prince" of Kosei Academy.
Takumi, walking beside him, was completely immune to the gravity of Renji's presence as this happens every time Renji walks into the school. "Man, everyone's even more excited today! It must be the spring air!"
"I'm sure that's exactly what it is." Renji replied dryly, highly amused by his friend's terminal density.
Soon, they reached the main hall, where the bulletin boards displaying the new class assignments were posted. A massive swarm of students pushed and shoved to see the lists.
"Ugh, I can't see a thing!" Takumi complained, jumping up and down uselessly. "Renji, use your height! What class are we in?"
Renji didn't need to jump or push anyone. He simply stood near the back of the crowd. A group of second-year girls noticed him and immediately blushed, stepping aside to create a clear path for him.
"Please, go ahead, Kamishiro-sama!" one of them squeaked.
"Ah… Thank you." Renji said with a polite nod. He stepped forward, his eyes scanning the lists with practiced ease.
He found it immediately.
~~~~~
Class 2-AHomeroom Teacher: Sato-sensei
Aihara Hina
...
Kamishiro Renji
...…...
Nishimura Mika
...
Hoshino Takumi
~~~~~
A small, satisfied smile touched Renji's lips.
'It isn't luck,' Renji thought, a private amusement colouring his gaze. 'The developers made sure to write us into the same room.'
He had merely verified the game's initial conditions. He had ensured that every single target of the same year as Takumi was locked into the same room for the next year.
"We're in Class 2-A." Renji announced, turning back to Takumi and Hina, who had caught up. "Together."
"Yes!" Takumi cheered, punching the air. "The dream team lives on! And look, Hina is with us too! We can copy your notes all year!"
Hina stood a little behind them. She looked at the direction of the board and then smiled softly at the excited Takumi. Then, she looked at Renji, and her cheeks turned pink. When Renji looked at her and their gazes met, she quickly looked down, but a small, shy smile graced her lips.
'Well… That's a good sign,' Renji thought. 'She's not used to getting compliments from boys, especially with how Takumi treats her normally. So, she's still thinking about the things I said.'
"Let's go." Renji said, leading the way down the familiar corridor. "We don't want to keep our new classmates waiting."
Class 2-A was a bright room was bright, with large windows overlooking the courtyard. It's the "Elite Class", reserved for students with top grades or special recommendations.
Now the question arises, how was Takumi in such a class with his situation where he needed Renji for even completing his assignments… Well, once again, it's the power of plot.
Takumi in the original story, every time without fail, scores the minimum score to stay in the elite-class.
…
Renji walked to the back of the room and claimed the desk next to the window, the traditional seat of power for any protagonist. He set his bag down, the leather expensive and supple, and leaned back, crossing his legs.
From this vantage point, he could survey his domain.
Takumi burst in a moment later, throwing his bag onto the desk directly in front of Renji. "Renji! You saved me a spot! You know me too well!"
"Well, someone has to keep you from snoring during history class." Renji quipped.
The classroom buzzed with the nervous energy of the first day. Students introduced themselves, formed cliques, and sized each other up.
Then, the door slid open with a bang.
The chatter died instantly.
A girl walked in. Or rather, she strutted in.
She was Nishimura Mika.
If Hina was the comforting girl-next-door, Mika was a neon sign in a library. She was the school's resident gyaru and self-proclaimed idol, a splash of chaotic colour against the drab school uniforms.
Her hair was a shocking, bleached platinum blonde, curled into perfect, gravity-defying ringlets that bounced with every step. Her face was a work of art, heavily, but expertly made up, with long false lashes and bright purple contact lenses that gave her an exotic, almost feline gaze. Her uniform was a masterclass in rule-breaking; the skirt was hiked up dangerously high, revealing miles of tanned, toned thigh above loose white socks. Her shirt was unbuttoned low enough to hint at the deep cleavage created by a push-up bra that made her modest D-cup chest look explosive.
She radiated a little-devil aura that made the boys stare and the girls whisper. But Renji was looking at her with the eye of a true connoisseur. '10/10 character design. I mentally applaud her utter disregard for the dress code.' he thought approvingly.
[Empathy Insight] Activated.
A window flickered above her platinum head.
[Target: Nishimura Mika]
[Status: Bored / Performing]
[Current Thought: "Same stares, same whispers. Boring."]
[Frustration Gauge: 75%]
She scanned the room, her purple eyes quickly landing on Takumi. A mischievous, predatory grin spread across her face. In the original game, this was her dynamic: she teased Takumi because his innocent panic was the only genuine reaction she could get out of the male population in the school. For others, some ignored her, some looked at her lustfully, or even fearfully. Some even had disgust or judgmental look on their faces, like they had already concluded that she was some kind of vile girl just based on how she dressed.
"Well, well." she drawled, her voice a practiced mix of husky and sweet. She sauntered over to Takumi's desk. "If it isn't Taku-chi. Looks like I'm stuck with the virgin squad this year."
Takumi froze, and his spine went rigid. He looked up at her, his face turning the colour of a tomato. "M-Mika-san! Don't call me that! And I'm not... I mean... I am but…"
"Aw, you're stuttering already?" Mika laughed, leaning over his desk. The movement was calculated; it gave him a direct line of sight down her shirt. "You're so easy, Taku-chi. It's really a cute reaction."
Takumi shrieked and covered his eyes with his hands. "Too close! Too close! Personal space, Mika-san!"
The class erupted in giggles. Mika beamed, feeding off the reaction. She sat down at the desk to Takumi's left, kicking her feet up onto the bar of his chair, asserting her dominance over his space.
"Relax," she teased, poking his cheek with a manicured nail. "I won't bite. Unless you want me to?"
Takumi looked like he wanted to dissolve into the floor. He turned around in his seat, looking at Renji with pleading eyes. 'Renji! Help me! She's attacking me!'
Mika caught the look and shifted her purple gaze to Renji, her expression challenging. "Oh? And here's the prince. Are you going to defend your boyfriend, Kamishiro-kun?"
Renji didn't take the bait. He didn't scold her or play the uptight honour student like he did in the old timeline. Instead, he met her gaze calmly, a faint, highly amused smirk playing on his lips.
"Good morning, Nishimura-san," Renji said, his voice polite. "I think Takumi is just overwhelmed by your... energy this early in the morning."
Mika blinked. The prince hadn't scolded her like she expected, it was how it normally went the last year. Whenever Takumi gets teased, Renji comes to defend him and scolds her of bullying an innocent boy. But today, he just... greeted her normally.
"How boring." she muttered, turning back to her phone.
The [Frustration Gauge] on her head ticked up to 78%.
'She puts on this entire act just because she wants a real reaction.' Renji noted. 'She wants someone to see past the flashy performance.'
The homeroom teacher arrived, a tired-looking man who clearly didn't want to deal with Mika's skirt length, and the day began.
Throughout the morning lessons, Takumi suffered. Mika poked him with her mechanical pencil and whispered scandalous rumours in his ear just to watch him turn red. She was relentless in her teasing.
But Renji noticed the pattern. Every time Takumi reacted with just fear or embarrassment and nothing more, Mika's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She looked disappointed. She wanted banter. She wanted a partner, not a victim.
When the lunch bell finally rang, Takumi bolted from his seat as if it were on fire.
"I'm going to the cafeteria! Melon bread! Be right back!" he shouted, fleeing the room to escape the sexual tension he was too immature to handle.
Mika sighed loudly, slumping in her chair. The mischievous light left her eyes. She looked around the room. All her friends were in Class 2-C, so here, she was alone.
She pulled out her phone, scrolling aimlessly, her long nails clicking against the screen. The [Status] above her head shifted to [Lonely / Defensive].
Renji stood up, but not to follow Takumi.
He picked up his bento box, a sleek, black lacquered container, and walked over to Mika's desk.
He didn't loom over her. He didn't invade her space like she had done to Takumi. He simply leaned his hip against the edge of the empty desk in front of hers, creating a casual proximity.
"Nishimura-san," he said quietly.
Mika looked up, startled. Her guard went up instantly. "What? Here to lecture me about the dress code or something, Mr. Prince?"
"I'm not on the Student Council," Renji reminded her. "So, no."
He gestured vaguely to her hands, which were clutching her phone.
"I just noticed your nails," he said.
Mika blinked, looking at her hand. They were long, acrylic, and painted with an intricate, galaxy-themed gradient, deep blues fading into violets, speckled with tiny silver stars.
"What about them?" she asked defensively. "Are you gonna say that they are too long, or too flashy?"
"No," Renji said. He leaned in slightly, focusing his gaze entirely on her hands, treating them like an exhibit. "You do know that I do modelling, right? So, whenever I see things related to fashion and such, I just have a bad habit of evaluating aesthetics."
"What I want to say is that the detail is impressive. That gradient... it matches your contact lenses perfectly. It's a very cohesive look."
Mika froze. Her mouth opened slightly.
Guys usually commented on the length "How do you type with those?" or the colour "Too bright". No one had ever noticed the coordination, or rather they never took her for someone who would even go for such details.
"You... noticed that?" she asked, her voice losing its brash edge.
" Like I said, occupational hazard. It's hard not to notice." Renji said softly. "As someone who spends half his work-life in makeup chairs, I know how hard it is to blend colours like that. It must have taken hours. It shows a lot of dedication."
Mika stared at him, completely disarmed. The [Frustration Gauge] above her head flickered and dropped to 50%.
"It... yeah. It took three hours," she admitted, looking down at her nails, suddenly shy under his focused attention. "But most people just think it's a waste of time. Or that I'm just trying to look cheap."
"Most people don't pay attention to the real thing," Renji said softly, his voice dropping to a lower register that seemed to vibrate in the quiet classroom. "They see the flashiness, not the art."
He pushed off the desk, straightening his blazer. "Anyway, I have said what I wanted. Now, if you'd excuse me, I should go save Takumi before he buys expired bread. Enjoy your lunch, Nishimura."
He used her last name without any honorifics. It was a calculated slip, a tiny breach of the distance he had just established.
And with that, he walked away without looking back.
Behind him, Mika sat frozen at her desk. She looked at her nails, then at Renji's retreating back. Her cheeks were dusted with a faint, but very real blush.
[Target: Nishimura Mika]
[Interest: Spiked]
[New Status: Curious]
Renji smiled as he exited the classroom. Takumi had spent three hours running away from her. Renji had only spent three minutes acknowledging her.
The difference was absolute.