God is real. That was the only thought I could cling to in order to justify what I was seeing.

  Kiyara Aryavane. In the flesh. In our class. Who thought this could happen?

  Wait, hold on. Think. Did the novel’s plotline change somehow? Because how could someone who stood at the very peak of the hierarchy end up this trash dump of a class? A girl whose status was basically equivalent to a princess of an empire...sitting among peasants like us? No way. Absolutely not.

  Or…am I forgetting some crucial detail? Did the novel ever mention this?

  As I spiraled deeper into the panic, the realization hit: everyone in the room had their eyes on me. Even the teacher, who was supposed to be the cool and sexy teacher, arched a brow at my outburst. With a quick flick across her holographic screen, she cut straight to my outburst.

  “Mr. Kurozawa, I presume? Would you mind sitting down? Or have you already decided you’d rather interrupt my class?”

  Ah. So I screamed her name out loud. Right, out of nowhere.

  Stupid, Renard. Really stupid.

  Even worse, the main character herself - the Kiyara Aryavane – was staring at me. Those cold, lifeless eyes sliced into me like a sharp blade cutting through me searching for intent and wondering what kind of lunatic I was.

  To stop making things worse, I sank back into my seat. “Sorry, "I murmured.

  Damn it. They were definitely all thinking I was some weird guy now.

  Is this what they called… losing aura?

  “Lady Aryavane, about your seat,” The teacher said, scanning the room to decide where she was going to sit.

  Well, technically, the seat next to me was empty. But come on, there was no way someone of her status would sit among the peasants. If this was a rom-com, sure, the teacher would definitely tell her to sit on the only seat left and tell me to “help her adjust to school”. But this wasn’t a rom-com. This was reality.

  …Then again, technically, this was a novel world, so maybe there was still some hope.

  “Elizabeth, would you kindly give your seat to Lady Aryavane and move to the back?”

  And there went my hope, shattered on the spot.

  Seriously teach? Not sure that was your best move. I mean, I got the logic, give princess of Atmatek priority but out of all people why chose her? That was like poking a hornet’s nest.

  “Huh? Why should Liz give up her seat? Just cause she’s some noble?”

  “Yeah, that seat was assigned to her fair and square. Don’t act like she’s better than everyone else.”

  And just like that, voices rose. The girls rallied instantly in protest of the teacher's decision. Of course they did. Elizabeth wasn’t just anyone, the gyaru class rep was what you would call the alpha female of her clique. Judging by the loyalty, a lot of them had probably known her long before this school.

  But Elizabeth only flicked her short pink hair, her lips curved into a smile and looked straight towards Kiyara.

  “It’s fine, babes~! I’m the class rep, y’know? So like, it’s my job to help out and make our lil’ princess feel suuuper comfy here☆”

  Oof. Passive aggression…so sharp. Definitely someone I’d do well to avoid

  At least, that’s what I told myself. Until, she dragged her bag over and sat down at the empty desk…right next to me.

  What kind of flag is this?

  I risked a side glance. Bad idea. Our eyes met, just for a heartbeat. She shifted casually, propping her chin on her elbow, shooting me a side-eye that was equal parts of bored and a challenge.

  I tried, really tried to act unaffected. To act like having a cute gyaru beside me was no big deal. But before I could even convince myself.

  A voice cut through my delusion.

  “Hey. Don’t tell me you actually know class princess?”

  “Huh? You mean Kiyara…No…no not all.” I waved it off instantly. To be honest, I knew everything there was to know about her because I’ve read the light novel cover to cover. But I wouldn’t call that association. It would be more like stalking.

  Wait a minute. Oh no. I’m a stalker!!

  While I enjoyed my usual self-hate session, Elizabeth’s lips moved again. Her eyes flicked towards Kiyara Aryavane and her expression contracted into what could only be described as envy and hatred.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Figures. Someone like you could never even get her to look your way.”

  Silence fell between us after she said that. My eyes slid toward the teacher but my mind stuck on what she had just said. She wasn’t wrong. A shadow could never touch the blazing sun. I was nothing more than a moth drawn to the glorious fire, destined to burn away in admiration - the glorious purpose.

  And yet…the look on Elizabeth’s face, the bite in her words, it worried me. It sparked a memory, something from the novel. A small, almost throwaway detail: Kiyara’s struggle to make friends. In the novel, her mistrust of people and lack of courage prevented her from making friends with other heroines and it took the hero, who gave her courage to be able to open up and make friends.

  And the scathing detail was that before she enrolled in Spear of Aegis institute, she’d suffered. A horrible experience at intermediate level school. Bullying. Isolation. That was what drove her into mistrust, into keeping people away from herself.

  And if my instinct weren't wrong then I’d just witnessed the first signs of the same cruelty taking root here. Elizabeth’s group would bully her. Just like in the novel. And Kiyara Aryavane would become an even more cold and unreachable figure, I remembered.

  My fist clenched under the desk. It was hard to describe the emotion that swelled in me. Was it hatred for this twelve-year old Gyaru and her pack of friends? Or was it my own anxiety and desperation because I already knew Kiyara, knew her pain and her loneliness.

  I didn’t know. But one thing was clear.

  School was never going to be a rosy place.

  ────??────

  After an hour of lecture, mostly about the school, rules and our curriculum, the class finally ended. I braced myself, half-expecting the flood to begin. Surely everyone would smarm her with questions: Why is someone like you in this dump? What’s life like in the triple digit zones? How does it feel to be the heir of Atmatek systems?

  But nothing of the sort happened.

  A few girls did gather courage to approach her, but it wasn’t the tidal wave I’d imagined. And even those few were met with her trademark cold shoulder and they had to walk back to their seats with crushed expressions.

  Bad move, Kiyara. That would only fuel the vulture sitting right beside me. Elizabeth twirled her short hair between her fingers, eyes fixed on her prey.

  Classic bullying setup. Damn it, this looks bad.

  But before I could, the day was already over. Since today was only the introductory classes, the rest of the day was left for campus tours. Nothing happened today. For now, she was safe as the teachers came to fetch her directly.

  Still, just before she left the room, my eyes couldn't help but follow her. And then, as if pulled by some unseen thread, she turned. Our gazes locked.

  It lasted for only a moment, but in that single heartbeat. I felt as if the universe itself had just been born. A vision of the big bang exploding behind my eyes.

  And then it was over. She turned back and walked out.

  That short stare…beautiful.

  ────??────

  A new day. A new morning. Today, it had to be. If I didn’t figure out a way to stop Elizabeth's group from targeting her, it would be too late.

  But another doubt gnawed at me, it made me restless and worried: should I even interfere? Those very events in the novel: her bullying, and isolation, led her into meeting the hero. Her pain shaped her growth, pushed her towards him and what led her to fall for him. If I tore that thread away, wouldn't I just unravel the whole story?

  In the first place, what did ‘saving her from her bad end” really mean? At first, I thought it would be enough to make sure she never got corrupted, and met her end by the hero's hand. Because nothing was more tragic than that. To be killed by the one you love the most.

  But...then...what about her love life?

  Ideally, I’d want her to end up with the hero, just as she wished. In fact, I’d do anything to make that a reality. But if I was being realistic, the chances were low. Not because she lacked the qualities but because of the damn author. She wasn't even the second lead heroine, her role in the narrative was fleeting and her end was predetermined.

  So what was the best I could hope for? That she at least confesses, gets rejected and then moves on with her life.

  Would that really be enough? Would that truly save her from loneliness, from the emptiness that followed her in every scene?

  As I wrestled with those impossible questions, my feet carried me to class before I even realized it. And then, just ahead in the hallway, only a few meters apart, stood Kiyara Aryavane.

  Up close, her presence struck me differently. Fragile. Pale. Almost translucent, as if light itself might pass through her body like glass. Long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and those deep red eyes…they locked onto my plain brown eyes without wavering.

  There were so many words I wanted to speak, but none would leave my mouth. She wasn’t someone you simply talked to. She was like an idea, an abstraction, something distant and untouchable.

  Then, with a quiet zap, the automatic door slid open, breaking that atmosphere. She stepped through and I followed.

  I thought she'd be safe during class. Since, the class had cameras watching over; surely no one would try anything with surveillance on them.

  I was wrong.

  The moment she sat on her chair, the air fractured. The desk hologram erupted, projecting 3D texts across the air like shards of glass.

  GO BACK TO YOUR LAB, PRINCESS.

  YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.

  LITTLE WITCH EXPERIMENT, STAY AWAY.

  WHO DRESSED YOU, A CORP EXEC? LOSER.

  WE DIDN’T ASK FOR A BITCH IN OUR CLASS.

  HOPE THE DEVIANTS FIND YOU FIRST.

  TRY NOT TO CRY WHEN WE LAUGH, OK?

  SIT IN THE BACK WITH THE PEASANTS.

  NO ONE WANTS YOUR PRECIOUS ATTENTION.

  DON’T PRETEND YOU’RE SPECIAL, YOU’RE NOT.

  Oh god, what are twelve years old up to these days. This is beyond horrible. The words blend into one another, cruel and merciless, floating above her head for everyone to see.

  Gasps filled the room, but they weren’t sympathy. No. They were the sharp intake of satisfaction, envy, pity twisted with resentment.

  In this world, if the middle hated the bottom, but they both hated the top even more.

  ────??────