The introductions dragged on, but after Komori, my interest quietly packed its bags and left the building. Meanwhile, the devil Shirogane decided my desk was her personal throne. Legs crossed, arms on the edge. Bad manners? Absolutely. But it's Shirogane. She probably thinks my desk exists purely for her to devilish flair.
But more than that, I'm still stuck thinking a single-good introduction and Ishikawa-sensei still hasn't returned. How long is this meeting supposed to last? Not that it's getting any easier. My brain holds data on 4,000 historical speeches and still can't generate one normal-sounding self-intro.
Okay, let's run simulations.
Should I be confident and lively?
"Hi, I'm Kyouji! I love people and sunshine and making memories!"
Yeah, no. I can't even keep eye contact for longer than three seconds without running an internal diagnostics check. I'd short-circuit halfway through.
Maybe I could go for the "trustworthy class rep" vibe. Calm, dependable, approachable. The kind of guy people ask for group work and emotional trauma dumps. But how does one radiate trust? Do I just nod solemnly and say, "I understand" every ten seconds? I've read 227 psychology books and still don't know what "relatable" looks like in practice.
The genius angle? Technically accurate. I could calculate everyone's Advancement Score projections in under a minute. But announcing that would paint a target on my back, and I'm not in the mood for rival arcs. Plus, being right all the time tends to ruin casual conversation. Nothing kills a vibe like, "Actually, that's a misquote from Nietzsche."
Maybe I should be mysterious. Quiet. Stoic. The "don't talk to me unless it's life or death" type. That might work – until someone actually does talk to me, and I forget how to respond without sounding like an AI trying to pass the Turing Test.
Or I could try being funny. But humor is a social algorithm I still haven't cracked. I know what's statistically funny, but that doesn't help me be funny. If I say something weird, the class labels me as "the unsettling one," and then it's game over.
What if I say nothing at all? Just stare blankly into space and let my aura do the talking. No words, just vibes. Except I've seen how that goes in movies. That guy either becomes a fan favorite or gets reported to the counselor.
Honestly, maybe I should just tell the truth.
"Hi, I'm Kyouji. I know a lot of things, but I don't know how to be a person yet. Please be gentle."
Would that earn me sympathy points? Or just weird looks?
Why is this so difficult? I've survived high-level simulations, mind conditioning, and academic hellscapes… but apparently, this is my final boss. A classroom introduction. Amazing.
"Think, Kyouji, think!" I yelled out internally, but instead of helping – my mind plays a slideshow of random trivia, social missteps, and exactly zero useful strategies for sounding normal.
At this rate, faking a fainting spell is starting to look like a reasonable strategy.
Unable to think of something that makes sense, I opened my eyes and saw Tachibana standing beside Kurosawa, with arms on her waist.
Kurosawa was still lounged at his seat with his arms crossed and feet propped up in his desk.
"It's your turn," she said in a neutral tone, eyeing him up and down with a sharp curiosity. She clearly knew Kurosawa well enough to expect resistance. After the whole Ishikawa incident, everyone knows what type of a person Reiji Kurosawa was.
The room's attention zeroed in on him. Even Shirogane's. He glanced at Tachibana for a moment, as if weighing whether or not she was worth the effort.
Then he smirked, lowered his head slightly, and closed his eyes.
"Hey… hey, pretty girl." he called out sweetly. "I'm not interested in introductions. My presence speaks for itself. Just remember the name – Reiji Kurosawa," he said. His voice was soft, almost teasing, like he was half-joking and fully aware of the effect.
Tachibana's eyes narrowed. Not annoyed, just… interested. Like she'd discovered a new species of narcissist.
"You talk big... but sits like a monk who didn't attend his disciplinary trainings." she replied, tilting her head slightly.
Kurosawa didn't move at first. Then he chuckled, cracked one eye open, and smirked wider.
"Hey… hey… don't mock the man who stands above all others in this school. Just because you're the scary type doesn't mean you're out of my type," he said smoothly, lowering his legs and crossing them with smooth flair. He closed his eyes again, like the conversation had already ended in his favor.
Tachibana's expression tightened at the mention of "my type." She stared at him for a moment, as if debating whether to say something or let it slide. But before she could choose, Hayashi spoke with a smile.
"It's okay, Tachibana. Looks like Kurosawa isn't really interested. Let's find somebody else," he said gently.
Kurosawa chuckled, and Tachibana's expression tensed even more.
"Weirdo," she clipped under her breath, then looked in our direction – towards Shirogane.
"How about you?"
Shirogane's expression didn't change. Though i noticed her grip on my desk loosened slightly, I could tell she was bothered. And honestly, so was I. If she was next, the chance were high I'd be up after her.
A moment of silence followed as Shirogane stared ahead. Then, she stood up. It felt awkward for me – watching someone like her, who clearly struggled to connect with others, take the spotlight.
Oops. I remembered. I also struggle to connect with people.
"My name is Shirogane, Aya," she began evenly, her eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned the room. "I'm not interested in anything in particular except studying and advancing to Class A." With that, she returned to her seat and sat down.
What a typical introduction. Nothing is really special except the mention of Class A. It was expected. Almost everyone wants to reach Class A… but for someone like her, who's so cold and detached, it's not something should be ignored... or maybe I'm overthinking it?
The atmosphere turned awkward. The whole class went silent for a moment, probably thinking the same thing I was – what a heavy dose of ambition for someone who seems to prefer being in solitude and brush off everyone. Shirogane is aware of it, but seems unbothered. She sat there with no malice.
The silence broke when Tachibana spoke and looked over at me.
"It's your turn."
Yeah, right. It's my turn. Meanwhile, my brain is still playing a slideshow of the essays I wrote when I was three years old. Something about "Why Dinosaurs Are Cool." I peaked early.
It seems like I have no escape but to introduce myself and let the flow carry me. Or drown me. Either works.
"Yeah…" I muttered, then stood up. I didn't speak for a moment, hoping divine inspiration would drop from the ceiling. Nothing. Just fluorescent lights and judgmental stares. Everyone's eyes were on me. Curious. Unblinking. Like I was a rare species of turtle learning to walk on land.
My silence dragged longer than expected. A few of my classmates shifted in their seats, probably wondering if I was buffering. Even Shirogane seemed uncomfortable.
"He—" she started.
"I'm… Hoshigami… Kyouji." I cut her off, then paused. Good start. Now what?
What hobbies? Maybe reading? That's safe. Or… being friendly? Ha. As if.
"Uh… hmm…" I muttered, internally spinning a roulette wheel of possible personalities to fake for impression .
Some of my classmates leaned forward, like my social anxiety was the day's entertainment.
"I'm not really interested in anything… but… you could talk to me… anytime," I said flatly, then sat down like I had just disarmed a bomb and needed a week-long nap.
Did that go well, by any chance? I don't know. I might've just painted myself as the local weirdo with a passive open-door policy.
I'm really nervous, though I'm trying to act like I'm not. My heart feels like it's trying to punch its way out of my chest and file for emotional damages.
An awkward silence hung in the air like a bad smell, until Hayashi stepped in like emotional Febreze.
"That's great… I'm looking forward to talking to you soon, Hoshigami!" he said softly with a kind smile.
Bless you, Hayashi. I owe you one socially acceptable interaction.