"Hey, it's time to wake up."
The command echoed in his head, and just like that, the long dream ended.
He blinked, his long lashes fluttering over crimson eyes.
To anyone looking, he was just a dazed, undeniably cute teenager waking up from a nap. But internally, a sixteen-year fog had just evaporated in a single breath.
He looked around the bus. He saw teenagers, 16 and 17 years old, heading for the exit.
Information flooded his mind instantly, new school, context, the current date but this time it felt… different.
'I died…? Or something like it.'
The thought felt distant, unreal—like it belonged to someone else. But the world around him wasn't letting him ignore it.
Before, the information had just been there.
Now, he was actually thinking about it.
"It's your stop," the voice whispered one last time before fading into nothingness.
"Finally," he muttered, surprised by how gentle his own voice sounded.
He stepped off the bus, his feet finding the pavement, though his balance felt a little off.
He wobbled slightly, a bit like a newborn deer before steadying himself. He hitched his backpack up, trying to look composed, but his crimson eyes were wide, taking everything in.
'Sixteen?' he wondered, rubbing the back of his neck. 'I feel like I've been sleepwalking for a lifetime.'
He stood there alone for a moment, dazed, his gaze wandering aimlessly. The students flowing past him were dressed in a uniform that felt excessively dramatic.
They were all wearing the Academy's signature look: a flashy mix of black and white fabrics, sleeves with billowy ruffles, gold stitching that caught the sun, and a striking crimson sash.
He looked where everyone was going.
The entrance was marked by a massive gate. The sign above it didn't say "High School." It read W.A.R.D. Weaponized Arcane Response Division.
'Ah,' he thought, tilting his head. 'I know this setup.'
It was a feeling of déjà vu from a previous life. He hadn't just woken up; he had been reincarnated. He couldn't remember his own death, but he remembered the setting. It was from that novel... What was it? To Kill a Monster, You Must Become One?
'Looks like I'm in the book,' he thought, rubbing his neck. 'And apparently, I'm just a background character.'
"Huh!?"
A figure in the distance caught his attention. She was waving enthusiastically, a bright smile on her lips that seemed to illuminate the dull morning.
She was... wow. "Charming" didn't cut it. She looked like an idol who had wandered onto campus by mistake. And she was tall. Really tall.
He knew he was hovering around 166 or 167 cm, which was average enough, but she towered over him.
She had to be 186 cm, maybe 187.
"Hurry up… what are you doing?" she shouted, her expression shifting to a cute pout of impatience.
'Is she calling me?' He paused, staring up at her. He felt small in her presence, both physically and metaphorically. He couldn't tear his eyes away; her presence was commanding.
He pointed a finger at himself, dazed. Why would a giant supermodel be calling him?
But just as he opened his mouth, footsteps clattered behind him. Three girls brushed past him from behind.
They were pretty, undeniably cute, but they looked exhausted by their tall friend's antics.
"Sylphie, why did you come so early?" the smallest girl asked, rubbing her temples as if fighting a migraine.
"Mimi, I told you to come earlier..."
"Don't call me that here," her short friend snapped back, her voice tight.
'Right. Guess I'm not fully awake yet,' He felt the fool.
'Of course she wasn't waving at me.' Shaking his head to clear the mental fog, he walked toward the gate, slipping past the reunited group.
As he passed, he didn't see it, but the tall girl's eyes shifted. Her laugh faded for a second as her eyes flicked toward his back, just for a moment, barely noticeable.
Her expression was unreadable until he disappeared through the entrance.
"Was that another one of your pranks?" The stylish girl with the loose tie sighed as she followed Sylphie's gaze toward the boy's retreating back.
Leaning on one hip. She popped a bubble of gum. "Seriously? Waving at random guys? You have way too much free time."
"Stop the antics, please," the third girl said, looking tired. She was the picture of an average student. "We aren't in middle school anymore. If you cause a scene on the first day…"
"Waving at random people just to see if they bite? It's childish."
"What do you mean? Their reactions are so cute," Sylphie teased, a playful lilt in her voice. "Did you see him stop? It was adorable."
"You really are too much, you know that?" the blond girl muttered.
"Mimi, relax~" Sylphie shrugged, patting the small girl's head.
"I will not relax!" Mimi swatted the hand away, looking like an angry kitten. "You can't just weaponize your appearance like that! You're basically baiting them!"
"Waving at boys just to watch them trip over their own feet? It's a terrible hobby! One day you're going to give someone the wrong idea, and I'm not cleaning up the mess when they think you're actually interested."
Sylphie waved a hand.
"Then I'll just wave again."
"THAT'S NOT THE SOLUTION!"
The blonde cracked up.
"Man… mornings with you guys are never boring."
Sylphie exhaled softly, eyes drifting once more toward the direction the boy had walked.
"Let's go, others are already gone." Mimi began to walk.
° ° ° ° °
'Why was she staring like that?' He touched his cheek.
'Do I know her?' He could feel her gaze. But the thought didn't stick. He shook his head. It didn't matter. He had bigger priorities right now.
'First, I need to find my classroom. Class A-2.'
'A-2, A-2…' He made eye contact with no one, his focus entirely on the placards above the doors.
He navigated the hallway, which was buzzing with the excitement of the new term. Students were greeting old friends, forming new groups, comparing summer stories, gossiping already.
The noise level was already giving him a headache.
"Hey! We're united!"
"Seriously? I was sure the aptitude test would separate us."
"Nope! Looks like our skills are equally trash!"
"Yooo! No way!" a boy shouted from behind, slapping another guy on the back. "We survived the cut! Same class again."
"Barely. I thought the re-evaluation would split us up," his friend replied, sounding relieved.
"Unexpected. The skill ranking is ruthless this year. I thought you'd drop to B-Class."
"Watch your mouth."
"Speaking of skills, did you see the tall girl at the gate?"
"Dude, everybody saw her! She was so hard to miss. She's like a goddess! But she's like a tall skyscraper."
"Bro, I saw her wave at some random guy. Poor dude looked like he was about to pass out."
"Hahaha! Yeah, I saw that. Total deer in headlights. Obviously she was waving at someone behind him."
"Lucky bastard. I bet she was just teasing him."
"Don't care. I want her to tease me."
"Keep dreaming, creep. But for a second… the air around them felt weird."
"You're reading too much into it. She's just hot."
Ignoring them, he kept his eyes on the signs. While everyone else seemed to be forming cliques or reuniting, he drifted through the gaps like a ghost.
Finally, Class A-2.
He slid into the classroom, dodging a group of girls chatting near the podium, and made a beeline for the protagonist's holy land—the back seat by the window.
He looked down at the desk.
[William Walker]
In glowing words there was a tag.
'Yep. This is my seat.'
He dropped his bag, sank into the chair, and let out a long breath, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders.
Outside, the courtyard was a mess of activity. Inside, the classroom kept filling, voices rising.
But here, in the periphery, with the wall against his back and the window to his left, it felt manageable.
Somewhat safe and exactly how he liked it.