Login: Another Day

The first thing Hokoyumi Isamu noticed when he woke up… was the silence.

Not the peaceful kind.

The empty kind.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, waiting—though he didn’t know for what. Maybe a voice calling from the next room. Maybe the sound of someone moving around the apartment.

The apartment used to be noisy—his parents bustling around making breakfast, his older sister running around, yelling as she searched for what to wear and fussed over her hair until it was perfect. Those days were over.

After he started high school, his parents decided he and his sister were old enough to live on their own. Just as their parents had done at their age, they said, they needed to “take their lives into their own hands” and prove themselves worthy of the family name. 

So his mother left for New York to work on her latest movie, and his father moved to Paris to manage the family’s modeling agency, claiming they needed more European talent.

Isamu frowned.

"…And why do I have to think about all this now? What a drag. Our parents are just after money, and I bet my sister is becoming the same way."

He let out a quiet breath and sat up.

Another day.

—

The apartment was spotless, as always. Too spotless. Like a place no one actually lived in.

On the kitchen counter, a neatly folded note waited for him.

Your new car has arrived. Please use it starting today.
—Takeda Yuhito

Takeda Yuhito was one of the caretakers his parents had assigned to him. His job was to handle everything—manage the house, keep things running smoothly, and, most importantly, keep an eye on Isamu. Make sure he didn’t go astray, make sure his grades stayed at the top, and make sure he lived up to the family name.

Isamu stared at the note for a few seconds before tearing it apart and tossing it aside.

“…I didn’t ask for one.”

Not that it mattered. His parents wouldn’t hear him anyway. Every time he tried to reason with them, it was always the same:

"You’re ungrateful. You should be thankful we provide everything to maintain your perfect image at school. You should know who you are and never embarrass our name."

That was his mother. His father would usually just nod along, half-listening, eager to get it over with. Most of the time, he probably didn’t even hear her at all.

Actors. Idols. Faces on screens. Names everyone knew.

Just not him.

He’d never really known who they were as people—only the personas they showed to the public. To Isamu, he and his sister didn’t feel like children to them… more like investments.

—

The car was parked outside.

Of course it was expensive. Sleek. Polished. The kind of car people couldn’t help but stare at.

The kind of car that would make people look at him even more. Of course, he thought. That’s exactly what my parents want—more attention.

Isamu sighed. "..The last thing I want is more superficial people staring at me in the morning.”

He stood there for a moment, keys in hand.

Then he turned around.

—

The bus stop was already crowded.

Students in uniforms. Office workers scrolling through their phones. Conversations overlapping in the morning air like a low, constant hum.

At first, no one seemed to notice him.

And for a brief moment that felt… nice.

Until someone whispered.

“Wait—isn’t that Hokoyumi?”

The shift was immediate. Whispers, glances, subtle straightening of posture. 

Quiet gasps of recognition.

This was why he usually preferred to take the car to school. At least with his old car, he could keep it simple, avoid attracting reactions. The ride would be quieter that way. At least… until today.

Isamu kept his eyes forward.

Same as always.

—

He arrived late.

Not by much, but enough for the first class to have already started. No way I’ll get in trouble, he thought. One of the few times his popularity worked in his favor. Still… he would have preferred to be treated like any other student for once.

The classroom door slid open, and the moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere changed.

It always did.

Conversations paused. Heads turned. He was used to it.

What he wasn’t used to—

“…You’re late.”

The voice was calm,firm and unimpressed.

Isamu blinked.

At the front of the class stood someone he hadn’t seen before. A new teacher, probably, he thought.

For a second, Isamu waited for the usual shift:

Recognition. Hesitation. That subtle change in tone once they realized who he was.

It never came.

“…Sorry,” Isamu said, lowering his head slightly. “It won’t happen again.”

A small murmur spread through the room.

"..Did he just get scolded? By the new teacher?"

The teacher studied him for a moment. Then—

“Take your seat.”

Just like that.

No special treatment. No careful words. Nothing.

Isamu walked to his desk in silence, ignoring the stares.

But something felt… off.

Or maybe—

Different.

—

The rest of the class passed normally.

And yet, Isamu found himself glancing toward the teacher more than once.

The teacher, Hoshino Makoto, seemed… fitting. Hoshino-sensei didn’t try to impress anyone. Didn’t act overly strict either. Just… natural.

Like he didn’t care who was sitting in front of him.

Like Isamu was just another student.

—

When the bell rang, the noise returned instantly.

Chairs scraping. Conversations rising.

Isamu stayed seated for a moment, watching as the teacher gathered his things and headed toward the door.

Then—

“Hey.”

Isamu looked up.

The teacher stood by his desk. Up close, his expression lighter than before. Almost amused.

“Be careful next time,” he said. “I won’t be that nice again.”

A small smile on his face. Not mocking. Not fake. Just… real.

Isamu blinked.

“…Understood.”

The teacher turned and walked away.

For a second—

Isamu thought he saw him wink.

“…No,” he muttered under his breath. “Probably imagined it.”

Still…

He leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes drifting toward the door the teacher had just left through.

That was the first time in a while—

Someone had spoken to him without expectation. Without knowing anything about him. Or maybe—

Without caring.

“…Weird,” Isamu murmured.

But not in a bad way. Wishing Hoshino-sensei wouldn’t change once he learned who he really was.

—

That night, his room was dark except for the glow of his screen.

Kage kara no Taitō.

The title flickered softly as the game loaded.

This world didn’t care who he was either. No expectations. No reputation. No image to maintain.

Just—

Him.

Isamu rested his hand on the mouse, staring at the screen for a moment before clicking.

[Login Successful]

And just like that—

He disappeared from one world…

…and entered another.