Chapter 1: — “Same Class, Same Loser”

The morning sun beat down on the gates of Shirosaki High School, but Ayaka Hoshino didn’t flinch. She adjusted the strap of her designer bag and smoothed down the folds of her uniform skirt, her heels clicking confidently on the pavement. Today was her first day at this new school, and everyone here was about to realize exactly who she was.

She had arrived early, of course, and as she passed through the gates, she noticed the students staring. Whispers rippled through the crowd, and a few faces pulled out phones, their eyes widening.

Cute little school, but completely unprepared for me, she thought coldly, lifting her chin. Better get used to it. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to be noticed.

Her heels echoed down the main walkway as she walked with deliberate confidence, shoulders back, head high. Some of the students whispered, “That’s her… right? Ayaka Hoshino?” and “She’s… she’s famous online, isn’t she?”

Ayaka didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Their stares, their whispers, they were proof enough.

A group of first-years, clearly gaping at her, tried to move closer, probably hoping for a conversation. She didn’t even slow down. “Keep your distance,” she said sharply, her voice carrying across the courtyard. The group flinched, some muttering apologies, others wide-eyed with awe.

Good. Know your place, she thought with a smirk. I’m not here to be everyone’s friend. I’m here to dominate.

She stepped into the schoolyard proper, scanning the familiar layout, noting where the gates, lockers, and classroom buildings were. Everything looked the same as a regular high school, but that didn’t matter. She was above it all, untouchable in her carefully curated perfection.

And no one better forget it, she reminded herself. Her fingers brushed her phone, tucked into her bag, where she had already drafted posts for today. By the end of the day, she knew she would have at least twenty photos and a short video uploaded. Followers, comments, likes, she would rise even faster here.

A gust of wind caught her hair, sending a few strands across her face. She brushed them back without breaking stride, heels clicking again, and entered the main building with a decisive, cold-step pace. This school didn’t know it yet, but Ayaka Hoshino was here, and everything would have to change around her.

Ayaka had barely taken two steps into the main hallway when it happened.

“Wait! Ayaka Hoshino! Can I have a selfie?!”

“Hey, aren’t you the one from TikTok?”

“Please sign my notebook!”

Students flooded the hallway from every corner, phones out, voices overlapping in excitement. Teachers hurried to quiet them, waving arms helplessly, but the crowd barely slowed.

Ayaka’s lips curved into a small, controlled smile. Not exactly friendly, but confident and composed. She raised a hand, sharp and deliberate. “Step back, please. One at a time,” she said, her voice firm but not harsh.

Some students obeyed, some stayed closer, trying to edge forward anyway.

A bold girl stepped up, holding out a notebook. “Please… just one autograph? You’re amazing!”

Ayaka’s sharp eyes softened slightly. She smirked faintly, almost flattered. “Alright,” she said, reaching for the notebook. “One autograph, then step back.”

The girl’s eyes widened, and she quickly scribbled her name while Ayaka signed neatly. As she handed the notebook back, the girl squealed softly and took a selfie with her.

“Next!” Ayaka commanded, returning to her calm, composed stance.

A boy waved his phone, asking, “Do you do live streams? Can I follow you?”

Ayaka raised an eyebrow, amused. “Sure. But keep it quick, okay?” She tapped a few buttons on her phone to show him her profile, then moved on.

The crowd buzzed around her, some whispering, some giggling, others staring in awe. She navigated the chaos with a balance of composure and charm, giving a little warmth when flattered, but never losing her sense of authority.

One of the teachers, flustered, approached with a clipboard. “Hoshino-san right? The famous influencer? Can you maybe … calm them down—”

Ayaka glanced at him, lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it handled,” she said. No hint of arrogance, just confidence. “If anyone can’t behave, they won’t get an autograph. Simple enough, right?”

The students nodded, some sheepishly, others still grinning.

Ayaka tucked her phone into her bag, adjusting her hair. This is easy, she thought. A little attention, a few smiles, and everyone’s happy. And me? I get exactly what I want: control and admiration.

She took a deep breath, scanning the hallway. Her shoes clicked against the tile as she continued down the corridor, giving the occasional student a small smile, a signed notebook, or a quick selfie. She was the perfect mix: distant enough to command respect, but just warm enough to make people like her.

The hallway was chaotic, but Ayaka moved through it with controlled, deliberate steps, her heels clicking sharply on the tile. Students shuffled to the side, murmuring her name in awe, phones out and cameras ready.

Then, a sudden scream shattered the moment.

“Sorry! Sorry, Ayaka!”

A panicked fan had sprinted toward her, a cup of water in her hand wobbling dangerously. Before Ayaka could react, it spilled across her chest, soaking her shirt.

Her eyes widened in shock, and then snapped.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Ayaka yelled, her voice cutting through the hallway like a whip. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

The girl stumbled back, stammering, “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean?! Do you even see what you just did?!” Ayaka’s eyes blazed. Her calm, composed exterior vanished completely, replaced with pure, fiery anger. “Step back, everyone! I said STEP BACK! Let me through!”

Students froze, some frightened, some murmuring to each other, but they immediately parted to create a path. Ayaka stormed down the hall, dripping water from her soaked shirt, muttering curses under her breath.

Finally, she reached an empty classroom. She closed the door behind her, flipped the lock, and exhaled sharply.

“Unbelievable…” she muttered, tugging at the buttons of her wet shirt. With a frustrated sigh, she unbuttoned it entirely, leaving herself in a plain t-shirt. She inspected the wet stain in the mirror, muttering, “Great… just perfect. This had to happen today.”

She turned around to place the shirt on a nearby table, and froze.

A boy was sitting at one of the desks, casually sipping a bottle of water, staring at her.

“Hey…” he said lazily.

Ayaka’s head snapped toward him. “WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?!” she yelled, voice sharp and cutting. “Are you blind or just slow?!”

The boy didn’t answer. He took another sip of water, eyes flicking away, completely unfazed.

Ayaka scowled, muttering angrily, “And of course… this is what happens… some girl accidentally spills water on me, and now I have to deal with this too…” She waved her hand dismissively at him, clearly annoyed but refusing to press further.

The boy’s gaze returned, calm, almost amused. “You look… familiar.”

Ayaka’s eyes narrowed. “Shut up. Look away.” Her voice was cold, commanding.

The boy tilted his head slightly, a small, knowing smile appearing. “Wait… no, I think I know. Ayaka Hoshino… you’re the famous Ayaka Hoshino, right?”

Ayaka blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, a smirk formed on her lips. Typical. Some loser recognizing a famous girl… probably wants a picture or something. She crossed her arms, trying to appear nonchalant. “Hmph. And what if I am? You want an autograph? A selfie? Or are you just another loser hoping to get close?”

The boy’s eyes glinted, and he said softly, “Yeah… a loser… just like you always called me in middle school.”

Ayaka froze mid-smirk. Confusion flickered across her face. “Wait… what are you talking about?”

The boy’s lips curved faintly. “I’m Ren. Remember me? Middle school. You… rejected me. Yeah. That Ren.”

Ayaka’s eyes widened. She stared at him in shock, her mind racing. This was… impossible. Ren? The awkward, plain boy I rejected years ago? He looked nothing like himself back then, tall, strong, confident, almost… hotter. Her brain tried to block the thoughts immediately. No. Not now. Focus.

Ren leaned back slightly, observing her reaction before speaking again. “Congrats, by the way. Your videos… your success. You’ve really made something of yourself.”

Ayaka scoffed coldly, brushing off the comment. “Yeah, thanks. Not that it matters to you.” She gave him a small, dismissive wave, trying to maintain her icy demeanor.

Ren didn’t respond. He just sipped his water again, calmly, his presence steady and unnerving.

Ayaka sighed, muttering to herself in a slightly annoyed tone as she picked up her wet shirt from the table. “And of course… all this because some idiot spilled water on me…” She slipped the shirt back on, smoothing it down.

“By the way,” she said, turning toward him, trying to keep her voice casual but controlled, “this is Class 1-B, right?”

Ren nodded. “Yeah. You’re in the right place.”

Ayaka took a seat at the far end of the classroom, deliberately putting as much distance as possible between them. She scoffed under her breath, muttering, “Great… I have to share a class with him. Wonderful…”

The classroom door clicked and unlocked, swinging open as the teacher stepped inside, followed by the rest of the students. A murmur ran through the room as everyone noticed Ayaka sitting at the far end, her wet shirt now dried and neatly adjusted, her expression calm but sharp.

The teacher’s eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. “Hoshino-san! Why is the door locked?!” she demanded, her voice trembling with irritation.

Ayaka shrugged casually, leaning back in her chair. “I needed a little privacy,” she said coldly, a hint of smirk in her voice. “But I guess some people can’t even handle a little door being closed without losing their minds, huh?”

A chorus of whispers and small “oohs” came from the other students. A few even chuckled and cheered softly, clearly impressed by her audacity. Ayaka’s lips curled into a small, cold smirk. Exactly, she thought. Know your place.

The teacher slammed her desk, blushing furiously. “ENOUGH! Everyone, shut up and take your seats! Hoshino-san, one more comment like that, and detention, on your first day, understand?!”

Ayaka tilted her head slightly, pretending to consider it, then shrugged lightly. “Sure, whatever,” she replied, completely unconcerned, her expression the picture of calm indifference.

The students exchanged glances, some stifling laughter, others shaking their heads in awe. Ayaka’s smirk deepened slightly, just enough to make it clear she enjoyed the small victory without showing too much.

The teacher, still flustered, turned to the whiteboard and began the lesson. The sound of chalk scratching across it filled the room, but Ayaka’s gaze couldn’t help but wander.

Her eyes found Ren immediately. He sat a few rows ahead, upright and calm, paying attention to the lesson—or at least pretending to. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she muttered quietly under her breath, “Still think you can handle a girl like me, huh?”

Ren’s eyes flicked toward her, catching her quiet taunt. Some things never change, he thought.

He remembered middle school—the shy, awkward boy he had been. And now… here she was. He had watched her videos, seen how kind she could be to her fans, how warm and cheerful she was online. But in person? In the classroom, with teachers or anyone she considered beneath her, she could be a literal demon.

Yet even so… some part of me is glad she hasn’t changed at all, Ren thought.

Ayaka’s smirk didn’t fade. Her eyes scanned the room, but always returned to him, lingering just a little too long before returning to her work, as if testing, challenging, teasing.

And so the first lesson began, the quiet tension between them a small, simmering storm in the middle of the otherwise ordinary classroom.