High schoolers in this country are always backed into a corner, forced to choose between two paths...
Academics or Romance!
As the old proverb goes, you cannot have both the fish and the bear's paw. One must sacrifice a love life for grades, or vice versa. This binary choice has split the student body into two warring factions, each looking down on the other with mutual contempt.
Those from humble backgrounds, or those desperate to flip the script of their lives through merit, cast romance aside without a second thought. They sneer at the "bittersweet" stench of young love and bury their noses in textbooks. Some reach a legendary state of detachment, tuning out the noise of the physical world entirely to commune with literature.
Occasionally, when they look up with weary, dark-circled eyes, it usually means one of two things: they are annoyed that someone is blocking their light, or they have finally hit a wall and need a breather. In the latter case, they might stare at a classmate with such genuine confusion that they begin to doubt if they've wandered into the wrong classroom.
Even if they've shared a room for years—or even a desk—a "nerd" who views studying as the alpha and omega of existence remembers their peers with the same vividness as the air they breathe. Actually, that's unfair; they likely know the exact chemical composition of air. Their understanding of other people, however, is limited to...
A collection of organic and inorganic matter arranged in a humanoid shape, rather than a long-time companion.
Because of this, they are branded as "bookworms" by those on the path of love—pitiful souls who know everything about theorems and nothing about life—though the scholars themselves couldn't care less about the mockery.
On the flip side, the romantics gleefully celebrate their youth. They spend their days in a haze of flirtation and hand-holding, blissfully ignoring their GPAs until the inevitable report card crisis. This leads to the perennial parental lament: "How is the neighbor's kid a genius while mine is a complete idiot?"
Academics and romance are the two pillars of high school life, and usually, you only get to lean on one.
However, there is one person who wants it all. Not just the academic excellence expected of a student, but the saccharine, heart-pounding romance to go with it. His philosophy is simple: "Only children make choices. I'm taking everything!"
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"President, these are the documents that need processing following the school's opening. I've already completed them, but please, look them over. After all, this is the Student Council President's responsibility. As Vice President, it would be improper for me to overstep my bounds..."
Inside a lavish, palatial meeting room, a stunning girl with raven hair and piercing crimson eyes offered a faint, elegant smile. She handed a neatly stacked pile of paperwork to the young man sitting across from her.
The youth was perched in a chair that screamed "exorbitant" at a single glance. He sat with his hands steepled beneath his chin, looking for all the world like he was lost in a profound tactical meditation. Then, he let out a low mutter.
"I'm telling you, Yashoku... you already know I don't understand any of this stuff, right? Just handle it yourself."
With a weary sigh, he tilted his head back. His pitch-black pupils, though seemingly ordinary, held an unexpected depth—a lingering aura of maturity that gave him an effortless, understated charm.
Looking at him, the red-eyed beauty felt as if she'd been struck by Cupid's arrow. Her heart hammered against her ribs and a flush crept up her cheeks, yet she maintained her icy, porcelain mask and corrected him with practiced patience.
"My name is Kaguya. Not Yashoku."
Her name was Kaguya Shinomiya, daughter of the Shinomiya Group—one of the four wealthiest conglomerates in the nation—and the Vice President of this very Student Council.
It's worth noting that while this school was decent, it was merely "above average." The gap between here and Kaguya's former school was vast—a cross-dimensional leap in prestige. Yet, for reasons known only to her, Kaguya had transferred from that ultra-elite bastion to this relatively modest institution.
No one knew why, and no one dared to ask.
"Furthermore, President, please stop using 'incompetence' as an excuse to dodge your duties!"
The young man sighed again, feeling utterly helpless.
He was the Student Council President, but not by choice. If it were up to him, he would have spent his high school years as a background character in the "Go-Home Club." But he didn't have a choice.
Having lost a bet to Kaguya some time ago, he had been forced into this heavy responsibility. While the Presidency was a seat of honor coveted by many, to an introvert who loathed standing out, it was a golden cage.
Still, he had honored Kaguya's request, despite being functionally illiterate when it came to organizational management. Thank goodness Kaguya had volunteered as Vice President to carry him; otherwise, he'd be dead in the water.
As for why Kaguya didn't just take the top spot herself instead of propping up a "useless" guy like him, he had once asked her. Her answer?
"It's Kaguya, not Yashoku. And there's no grand secret. I just like seeing the look of pure misery on your face when you're forced to do something you hate. I find it... quite cute."
The poor President could only offer a bitter smile in response. But in truth, he had spent a lot of time dissecting this situation.
In this world—aside from the person who had been by Kaguya's side like a sibling for years—he was probably the one who knew her best.
But they weren't childhood friends. In fact, he had known everything about her before they ever met.
Because he was a Transmigrant. He was an otaku from another world who had devoured light novels like Kaguya-sama: Love is War, The Quintessential Quintuplets, Oregairu, and Bunny Girl Senpai.
In short, he was a "Plot-Knower"—someone who knew exactly how the story was supposed to go.
Thinking of this, he glanced at Kaguya, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.
{The problem is, the plot of this world is completely broken!}
Because everything he had experienced so far could be summarized in one sentence: I, the guy who knows the plot, am struggling to survive in a school where the script has gone off the rails!