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“Akira… Akira?! Perchance to Dream Akira?! I am… I am going to pass out~” “How did he even get approved to transfer here?!” “Did you see him look at her? What ungodly amount of dirt did Hayami get on Akira to get him to approach her?” “Perhaps they are just childhood friends…?”

Hayami felt the blood on her hands tingling, her face was boiling—everything was on fire, and she needed someone to put it out, otherwise she was going to die!

She looked up at Akira. ‘Make it stop.’

Akira caught her look.

In the blink of an eye, he straightened his posture.

He turned toward the clamoring student body, raising both hands.

“Everyone, please,” he said. His voice wasn't the husky growl he used on Hayami. It was every bit of the fake Akira he presented to the world. “Calm yourselves.”

The room quieted down instantly.

Hayami looked at him with awe. ‘This… this was a real-life superpower.’

“No need for the excitement,” he smiled. “The groveling is flattering, but unnecessary. I am just another student, like anyone else.”

He placed a hand on his chest, looking humble.

“I am here to study for a... an upcoming role. I want to experience a normal life. So please, my part-time job as an idol should not affect your opinion of me. I hope you can treat me just as you would any other classmate.”

He bowed perfectly.

“I look forward to learning from all of you.”

‘Liar,’ Hayami thought. ‘He’s lying through his teeth, and they are eating it up.’

“Now,” Akira said, turning back to Hayami. Hayami swore to all the gods above that those eyes hid the devil in them.

‘Wait, nononono don’t do what I think you’re about to do…!’

“I’m afraid I’m a bit… behind on the school curriculum, Hayami-san. Since we’re already acquainted... would you mind helping me catch up during lunch?”

The silence in the room was obliterated with the force of a thousand suns.

“How did you meet?!”

Akira smiled. “Kindred Temptations 2.”

Holy. Shit.

He’d replied with those cursed words without hesitation. “You’ve seen my face on ads before, right? It may surprise a lot of people, but I’m personally quite fond of the Kindred franchise.”

A boy in the back scoffed. “An otome game? From a K-pop star? Isn’t that kind of… beneath you?”

The answer was immediate. “It isn’t beneath me.”

“But…” Hina wrinkled her nose, glancing at Hayami. “That game is for… well, it’s for perverts. And lonely people.”

‘This was it. The moment the Idol distanced himself from the “Loser” to save his reputation.’

Instead, Akira laughed.

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said. “Personally? I think there’s nothing wrong with seeking connection, digital or otherwise. It doesn’t hurt anyone. What’s the difference between reading a romance novel and playing a romance game? One’s more accepted than the other, yet they both serve the same purpose.”

A lot of students suddenly started nodding along.

“But it’s interesting you say that. That game has thousands of lines of dialogue, complex lore, and strategic gameplay. If you looked at all of that and only thought about the… scandalous parts…”

He tilted his head.

“It just means you are really dirty, no?”

The whole class winced. But more than that. Hayami heard grunts of approval.

Hina suddenly looked pale.

Hayami looked at the people she surrounded herself with… and all of them looked at her with different lenses.

Akira looked at Hayami with his devilish eyes.

“It takes a lot of passion to love a story that much. I don't think passion is something to be ashamed of. In fact...” He flashed the class a smile. “...I find it quite charming.”

Meanwhile, Hina’s jaw hit her desk.

“Makima-sensei, I’m quite ready to begin classes now.”

“Yeah… yeah… h-huh?!” The teacher jumped, adjusting her glasses. “O-Of course. Let’s begin. You have a lot of content to catch up on, Akira-san… and you can take the desk beside Hayami. It’s good that it’s already free.”

And just like that, the rest of the school day resumed.

With the added benefit of people looking at Hayami with an entirely different light… a look not of disgust, but of confusion.

Hayami wasn’t close to being popular, not even a little—but… it was nice and a little refreshing, to say the least.

That Hayami could attribute her reputation to being partially improved due to the work of a normie bothered her to no end, though.

As Akira opened his textbook, he glanced back at her and winked.

Hayami fought off an unwarranted and traitorous blush.

\\

The lunch bell rang. 

"H-How can be so sure they will leave us alone?" Hayami asked.

"Simple. I asked nicely."

"Ugh..."

All it took was a single word from Akira for the class to scatter. Securing the entire classroom for themselves—prime lunchtime real estate—felt less like popularity and more like black magic to her. 

Students usually ate at their desks. Was the word of a celebrity so strong it convinces people that eating in the crowded cafeteria or the hallways was preferable to being near him?!

And now she'll be under more scrutiny than ever before. 

With a deep huff, Hayami hunched over her phone. 

'Damn it...'

Her social media timelines were a mess. The top trend was, predictably, Perchance to Dream. But what stopped her heart was the name suddenly climbing the ranks alongside it: Sato Hayami.

“‘A-Akira in Golden Brooch High School’... ‘Is he dating a commoner?’... ‘W-Who is the girl?’... It’s all over my feed,” she hissed, shoving the screen toward him. “W-What’s your plan here other than to h-humiliate—wait. Is that… is that my f-face edited to look l-like I’m drooling at you?!”

She zoomed in on a hastily Photoedited meme.

“Why a-are they exaggerating my g-glasses? My f-frames aren't that t-thick!”

Akira didn't even look up from his bento box. He picked up a piece of tamagoyaki with elegant precision.

“You just have terrible taste in eyewear. And I already told you my plan.”

“To r-ruin my life?”

“Eat your lunch, Hayami. Social rehabilitation requires focus, and my sanity can’t handle you doom-scrolling through memes of yourself right now.”

Hayami dropped her phone onto the desk, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't eat.

“How did y-you do it?” she mumbled through her fingers.

“I did plenty today. Be more specific.”

“You made otome games designed by, and for, degenerates like me, seem like the coolest thing in the world.”

“So long as I act like it is the coolest thing in the world, it may as well be.”

“That’s such a cop-out! I’m n-not famous like you are. Plus, everyone l-loves you. They will e-eat up anything you say.”

“You know what?” Akira narrowed his eyes, scanning her face like he was debugging code. “I just thought of a perfect modification to our syllabus.”

“M-Modification?! Wha—”

Akira reached into his bag. He didn't pull out a textbook. He pulled out a sleek, black leather binder with his agency’s logo embossed on the corner.

He flipped it open. The first page was laminated.

AKIRA’S GUIDE TO BECOMING A WINNER (Working Title: Project Little Lemming)

“Y-You’re insane!” Hayami cried.

“I have created a comprehensive set of six or seven crash course lessons,” Akira corrected, snapping the binder rings open. “It’s designed to fast-track you from socially sedentary to socially competent in record time. You must pass each of them in order to pass this class. And if you fail… well, may god help you.”

He pulled out a fountain pen that probably cost more than her rent.

“Page one, page two… ah! Here.”

“H-How did you even find the time to make all t-this?” Hayami whispered. “Y-You’re an idol. Don’t you have choreography l-lessons to tend to?”

Akira didn’t respond for a moment. He was too busy aggressively crossing out a paragraph of text.

“To become an idol, darling… you have to be incredibly hard-working.”

“But that d-doesn’t answer anything. I still can’t believe you’d d-drop everything just to keep an eye on me. Y-You went to the foremost e-elite international school.”

All of Japan knew this as fact. His school admission was a heavily televised event, after all.

"I may have donated a small loan of ten-million yen..."

"Answer me properly!"

“What else? You have blackmail, Hayami. Didn’t matter where I went. It was important to me that you kept that recording to yourself.”

“Y-You could have just kept my mouth shut another way. Send s-someone else to bully me to d-delete it. S-So many other, s-smarter choices, yet you decided t-to come and crash my c-crummy school. Your story doesn’t m-make any sense!”

“Oh? I suppose those kinds of thoughts haven't crossed my mind.”

“B-Bullshit.”

He blew on the wet ink to dry his edits. “Believe what you want to believe, little lemming.”

Then, proudly, and rather smugly, he turned the binder toward her.

“S-So…” Hayami said, looking at the newly edited page. “W-What’s this first lesson of yours? Just… about being confident and not feeling shame?”

“No. Respecting yourself.”

He pointed his pen to her face.

“Respecting yourself enough to wear contacts instead of those huge glasses that nearly obscure those eyes. Respecting yourself enough to think that your hobbies do not ever need apologizing for. Without compromise.”

“But… it’s embarrassing,” Hayami replied.

“The key difference between you and me is that you wanted people to think it was embarrassing because you were embarrassed yourself. The moment you start hiding something, people assume you have a reason to hide.”

“But Kindred Temptations 2 is pretty open about what it is,” Hayami argued.

“And the class didn’t care all the same.”

Akira stood up suddenly.

“Respecting yourself means being able to look at yourself in the mirror, Hayami.”

He looked down at her.

“Stop slouching,” he commanded.

Akira didn't wait for her to comply.

He stepped into her personal space, reaching around her.

“H-Hey—!”

His hand—oh god, it was huge. And he smelled even better…

His palm landed flat against the center of her back, spanning nearly the entire width of her ribcage. Through the thin fabric of her uniform blouse, the heat of his skin was made incredibly apparent.

Then his fingers splayed out… it nearly covered three-quarters of her torso.

“Up.”

His palm pushed forward, forcing her spine to straighten, forcing her chest out and her shoulders back.

“People are not naturally evil and want to hate you. In fact, most people’s impressions of others are subconscious.”

Akira walked backwards and grabbed a chair.

“If you slouch, like this—” he slouched exaggeratedly, “—if you look like you’d rather be anywhere but here—that’s not people’s impression of you; people signal it as a reflection of themselves. Seriously, people are more self-absorbed than you think. Most people tend to do the comfortable thing: they ignore you so they don't have to feel guilty about potentially causing your hesitation.”

Akira smiled.

“Does this remind you of anyone?”

…

Hayami looked down. “Myself.”

The smile widened. “Good girl.”

“You are one p-patronizing, arrogant bastard...”

“A really good one, too. Now!” Akira clapped his hands suddenly, making her flinch. “We need an agreed-upon roadmap. We shall meet at your house to discuss.”

Hayami choked on air. “M-My house?!”

“Unless you want to come to my house and navigate a minefield of paparazzi, security guards, and the wrath of my managers? No? Then your place it is.”

“But… but…!”

“Here’s my number.”

“What for?!”

“You really have no idea how a celebrity lives, don’t you? Just like any other human. Just call me when you’re home.”

There was no more room for argument. The lunch bell soon rang once more.

People were already starting to pour back into class.

As Akira looked back down at his desk and pulled out his textbook, people were already starting to talk…

“What were they doing together?” was the sentiment most people expressed.

Hayami scowled.