Altered reality

"The day has finally arrived," Hayato murmured, stepping outside and tilting his gaze toward the sky. His attire—a crisp white shirt paired with a red blazer and black trousers—gave him a polished appearance. Just yesterday, he had trimmed his hair, opting for a simple undercut. Though unremarkable, the new haircut lent him a cleaner, more composed look. Combined with his neatly arranged uniform, he exuded a fresh and organized demeanor, almost as if he had transformed into a different person overnight.

"I can't believe I'm starting high school all over again," Hayato muttered, a hint of disbelief in his voice. In his previous life, before his transmigration, he had been a third-year student on the cusp of graduation. Yet now, here he was—back at the beginning, walking the halls of youth once more.

Following the route to Akatsuki High School that he had carefully memorized beforehand, and blending in with the crowd of students wearing the same uniform, Hayato soon found himself standing before an imposing gate. Beyond it stretched a sprawling campus, teeming with countless students streaming inside. At its heart stood an impressive five-story building, its towering presence exuding an air of prestige and possibility.

"As expected of the most elite high school in this prefecture," Hayato murmured, unable to hide his awe as he took in the grand sight before him.

After making his way through the sprawling building, Hayato finally arrived on the second floor. Standing before a door marked with a sign above it reading "1-A," he paused, taking a deep breath.

Without a moment's hesitation, Hayato slid the door open and stepped inside. The classroom was spacious, lined with dozens of neatly arranged desks. It was still early, so only a handful of students were present. Yet, the room buzzed softly with chatter as they engaged in lively conversations, perhaps reconnecting with familiar faces or attempting to forge new friendships that might define their high school years. To Hayato, however, they were all just kids.

Unbothered by the students around him, Hayato made his way to his assigned seat. It was just a temporary arrangement, as he knew there would be another seating reorganization in a few days. For now, though, his seat was at the back, next to the window—the classic "protagonist's seat." He chuckled to himself at the thought. He wasn't the protagonist of this world, not by a long shot. His presence here was a mystery, even to him. He wasn't sure what his purpose was, or if he even had one.

Seated with his cheek resting on his palm, Hayato idly observed the students who were already in the classroom, as well as those who trickled in through the door. A few familiar faces caught his eye, though none of them were the ones he had expected. This class, after all, was where the protagonist had been assigned, along with the first female lead. Yet, despite the growing number of students entering, neither of them had arrived yet.

As he waited in a haze, Hayato didn't even realize when he had drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, he was jolted awake by a gentle poke on his shoulder, followed by a soft female voice. "Hey, wake up, everyone is leaving." Blinking groggily, he glanced around and was taken aback to see that the classroom was nearly empty. Standing beside him was a girl, her gaze curious as she watched him stir from his nap.

The girl standing next to him had shoulder-length dark blue hair and light blue eyes that seemed to shimmer with curiosity. Her face was strikingly beautiful, complemented by a well-endowed figure that drew attention effortlessly. Hayato blinked as recognition struck him. He knew this girl—Kojima Misaki. In the anime, she was portrayed as an extroverted background character, always cheerful and never shy about striking up a conversation with anyone.

However, as the story progressed, a darker side of Misaki's life was revealed. Her secret was exposed, and the very friends she had trusted turned on her, subjecting her to relentless bullying. The protagonist tried to intervene, offering help, but it was all in vain. Despite his efforts, things didn't improve, and eventually, Misaki transferred to another school, her cheerful demeanor shattered by the cruelty she endured.

"I'm heading out now, make sure to catch up soon or you'll be late," Misaki said with a smile, perhaps noticing that Hayato was taking too long to respond. Without waiting for a reply, she dashed out of the classroom, leaving Hayato alone.

"Shit, I totally forgot!" Hayato cursed under his breath as the realization hit him. Today, the first and second periods were reserved for the entrance ceremony for the first-year students. Panicked, he scrambled to his feet and dashed out of the classroom, his heart pounding as he rushed toward the auditorium, hoping he wasn't too late.

"Wait, why can't I see the protagonist?" A hint of confusion in his voice. Seated in the corner of the back row of the auditorium, he had chosen the perfect spot to observe most of the students present. It wasn't hard to pick out the key figures—those with the unmistakable aura of main characters seemed to stand out effortlessly in the crowd. Yet, no matter how carefully he scanned the room, he couldn't find the original protagonist who was supposed to be here.

"Did something unexpected happen, and he missed the ceremony?" His gaze fixed on the seat where the protagonist was supposed to be. Yet, to his surprise, another student now occupied that spot. His mind raced with possibilities, trying to make sense of the anomaly.

Even after returning to class, Hayato notice something odd—the seat meant for the protagonist was occupied by someone else. Instead, a girl now sat there, right next to Takahashi Yuka, the first female lead.

She had long brown hair tied into a neat braid that cascaded over her shoulder, complementing her light green eyes. Though she was slightly shorter than the girls around her, her figure more than made up for her height.

'Wait, that's not it. I shouldn't get sidetracked here', he shake his head to refocus in his thoughts. He don't know what's going on right now. "let's wait and see if he shows up tomorrow. He surely will, right?"

Despite his attempt to reassure himself, the strange inconsistency continued to gnaw at him, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his chest. Something was off, and he couldn't shake the sense that this was just the beginning of something unexpected.

-------

'Why? Why is this happening? Where are you, you bastard?' Hayato thought, his head slumped on his desk, both hands gripping his hair in frustration. It was the second day, and despite the classroom being full and homeroom about to begin, the protagonist was still nowhere to be seen. The absence felt like a growing void, an inconsistency that refused to be ignored, no matter how much he tried to rationalize it.

'If he doesn't show up, who's going to save Yuka?' The thought weighed heavily on Hayato's mind, the anxiety creeping in. If days continued like this, that fateful day would inevitably arrive, and without the protagonist to intervene, Yuka would— Hayato clenched his fists, his heart pounding. 'She'll die. There's no mistake about it.' The realization sent a chill down his spine. This wasn't just a story—this was her life.

Soon, the homeroom teacher arrived—a man in his mid-forties—and began taking attendance. It was something no one had done yesterday, as another teacher had been at the gate of the auditorium, marking everyone's names as they passed through. Because of that, Hayato hadn't even noticed if the protagonist's name was on the list. And to be honest, he had never considered the possibility that the protagonist wouldn't show up at all.

Hayato listened intently as the teacher called out each name, his heart tightening with every name that was read. When the teacher finally reached the end, as he had feared, the protagonist's name wasn't even mentioned.

After the attendance was finished, the teacher announced that it was time to select a class representative and called out Yuka's name. She stood up with poise, a slightly proud smile gracing her face, as if she had already known the teacher would choose her. And honestly, it made sense. After all, she had scored first place in the entrance exam among all the first-year students. Her confidence was well-earned, because she is a huge bookworm who is obsessed with her scores.

After a tiring, boring, and utterly exhausting day at school, Hayato returned home and slumped onto his bed. His head throbbed from all the overthinking he had done throughout the day. He hadn't paid attention to the classes at all—his mind was too preoccupied with other thoughts. Not that it mattered; he'd already gone through these lessons in his previous life.

But knowing something bad was going to happen to someone, was a burden he couldn't ignore. No matter how much he tried to push it aside, it clung to him, gnawing at his conscience. Ignoring it simply wasn't in his nature.

"Ugh! Fuck it!" Hayato shouted as he stood abruptly from his bed, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "Fuck the protagonist! If nobody is there to save her, then I will!"

It was a simple solution, one that didn't require all the overthinking he'd been doing. The thought had already crossed his mind before, but he had been hesitant to accept it. After all, this wasn't a story anymore, where an author decided what would happen. In a story, the protagonist wouldn't simply die in an accident—they had what was called "plot armor," an invisible shield of narrative necessity that kept them alive in even the most dire situations.

But here, in this "real" world, there was no such thing as plot armor. Even if it somehow existed, Hayato was certain he didn't have it. He was just an extra—someone who hadn't even been present in the anime. And all the incidents that the female leads got into weren't just dangerous; they were life-threatening.

Hayato clenched his fists, gulping nervously as his heart pounded against his chest. The thought of everything he would have to face sent waves of apprehension coursing through him. Yet, nervousness wasn't the only thing fueling his heart. There was something else—a flicker of anticipation.

Unconsciously, an excited smile formed on his face. Then suddenly, he could almost see his past self standing behind him, arms crossed, a familiar, disapproving look in his eyes.

"Oi, that's the wrong path you're taking again," the past him said, his voice laced with frustration.

Hayato froze, unsure of how to respond. He had realized it the other day, when he helped that elderly woman cross the street: the desire to be a hero, to help others, to feel the warmth of their gratitude—it had never truly left him. Even when the people in his past life had treated him like the bad guy, ignoring his goodwill, that longing had remained buried deep within.

He smiled faintly. "You're me. So, you know how I feel."

The past him tilted his head, a mocking grin spreading across his face. "We really are an idiot, aren't we? You'll suffer if you keep walking this path you've chosen."

Hayato turned to face his past self, locking eyes with him. "Just a simple word of genuine gratitude—isn't that what "we" need to fill our desire?"

His past self shake his head and stepped closer, stopping by his side, and pressed a fist against his chest. His expression softened for just a moment. "Don't you dare give up midway," he said, his voice firm yet encouraging.

With those parting words, his past self walked past him and disappeared into thin air, leaving Hayato standing there, heart steadied and resolve stronger than ever.