I lift my head off the desk, hearing Matsuda's voice drift through the classroom again. His tone is always brimming with that usual confidence, the kind that says he's got something on his mind that he's just dying to share.
"Hey, did you feel that? All the girls are looking at Issei." Matsuda's voice isn't subtle. He's clearly enjoying whatever drama is brewing in the air. I glance around the classroom briefly. Sure enough, a few of the girls are glancing in my direction, their eyes flicking away as soon as I catch them staring.
I let out a sigh, rubbing my temple. It's not exactly new. If anything, this constant judgement is beginning to feel less like a blessing and more like a curse.
I'm stuck in this body with its past reputation, and it seems every time I think I can go unnoticed, someone has to bring up the inevitable—Issei's unfortunate habit of peeping on the girls.
"Maybe they're looking to beat him," Motohama chimes in from the other side, leaning over in his chair with that knowing look. "Hey, Issei, didn't you peek at the Kendo club or something?"
I freeze. Of course, they would remember that incident. One of Issei's many *misadventures*—spying on the Kendo team in their practice uniforms. Not his brightest moment, and certainly not one I want to relive.
"That's not it, it feels like girls are looking at him like they are Eye-fucking him." Matsuda said.
I once again looked around. Yes, girls was looking into my direction but I won't say thy are Eye-fucking me.
"Due you must be seeing things. This Issei, we are talking about." Motohama said.
"Dude, you must be seeing things," Motohama added, pushing his glasses up with a glint of suspicion in his eyes. "This is Issei we're talking about. The legendary perv. The guy with more rejection stories than romantic ones."
I didn't even have the strength to defend myself. I just slouched forward, letting my head fall against the desk again with a quiet thump.
"Maybe he hit his head or something," I muttered under my breath.
But I couldn't ignore it. The girls really were watching. Not all of them, not obviously—but there were glances. Quiet, stolen looks from across the classroom. Some confused, some contemplative. And one or two that lingered just a moment too long to be brushed off as coincidence.
It made my skin crawl.
Not because it was creepy—but because it didn't feel normal. Not with this body. Not with Issei's past. Whatever charm he had clearly didn't work before. So why now?
Matsuda leaned in closer, whispering with that half-grin of his. "Listen, maybe you finally hit puberty in your sleep. Maybe you're giving off that dark bad-boy aura now. You've been kinda... quiet lately."
"Yeah," Motohama added. "And you stopped talking about boobs every five minutes. That alone is freaking people out."
I blinked.
That's right. I had stopped. Not intentionally, but more because… I just didn't feel like it. The impulse was there—faint and lingering like a background noise—but it wasn't overwhelming anymore.
Well, I am not Issei, maybe that's why.
Either way, the effects were clearly rippling. Enough for people—girls—to start noticing. Even if they didn't know what it was they were sensing, they could feel the difference. A shift in energy. In presence.
Matsuda gave me a sharp elbow to the ribs. "Hey, if this keeps up, maybe you'll actually get a girlfriend. Or five."
Motohama adjusted his glasses again. "Or maybe he's possessed. Are you possessed, Issei?"
I gave them both a tired glance.
You have no idea.
~~~
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