In Tokyo in June, the Plum Rain Season always arrives without warning.
The sky outside the window looked as if it had been painted with a layer of gray paint, stifling and oppressive.
Rainwater snaked down the glass of the Sobu High School teaching building, distorting the view into blurry patches of color.
Inside the classroom, the teacher’s lecture, like a lullaby, continued.
The “thud-thud” of chalk hitting the blackboard, combined with the sound of the rain outside, formed the perfect afternoon sleeping pill.
The young man sitting in the second-to-last row by the window, a spot often called the protagonist’s special seat in anime, was resting his chin on one hand, staring expressionlessly out the window.
The young man’s features were neat, but nothing more.
His short, dark hair partially covered his eyes in a messy way.
Those black eyes were as deep as still water, showing no ripple, and his entire being exuded a gloomy “keep away” aura.
Fujiwara Ai.
This was his current name.
As a transmigrator from Japan, he had been in this Integrated Anime World for a full week.
“…Fujiwara-san?”
The teacher on the podium seemed to notice his distraction and called out tentatively.
Fujiwara Ai slowly turned his head, his emotionless eyes staring directly at the teacher.
He didn’t stand up or apologize; he just tilted his head slightly, as if asking, “Is there a problem?”
The air froze for a second.
The teacher’s heart skipped a beat under that indifferent gaze, and he subconsciously waved his hand: “N-nothing. Pay attention to the lecture.”
Fujiwara Ai withdrew his gaze and looked out the window again.
How much longer do I have to keep up this cold, poker-faced persona…
he roared internally, but the muscles in his face didn’t twitch even a micrometer, maintaining that deadpan expression, as if someone owed him five million.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to smile; it was that he couldn’t.
The thing that came with his transmigration, called the [Romance Strategy System], gave him an incredibly frustrating initial setting: to adapt to this world, his soul and body were undergoing a long period of adjustment.
Until this period ended, excessive emotional fluctuation would cause soul-tearing pain.
Simply put, to avoid dying in pain, he had to pretend to be a cool guy without feelings.
“System, open panel.” Fujiwara Ai silently repeated in his mind.
A translucent light screen, visible only to him, instantly unfolded.
[host: Fujiwara Ai]
[Age: 18 years old]
[Stamina: 8 (Normal adult male is 10) — Weakling, suggested to run two more laps]
[Intelligence: 14 (Normal person is 10) — Smart, but not very useful]
[Charm: 70 (Passerby level) — An existence you wouldn’t find if thrown into a crowd; if you don’t speak, no one will notice you]
[Skills: Acting (Mastery), Japanese (Mastery), Housekeeping (Beginner)]
[Current Task: None]
[Novice Gift Pack: Claimed (Passive Skill: Spiritual Vision Lv.1)]
Looking at the glaring “Charm 70,” Fujiwara Ai felt a pang of stomach ache.
In this two-dimensional world where handsome men and beautiful women are everywhere, a 70-point appearance was a disaster.
Although his features were flawless, his skin was dull due to the original owner’s long-term late nights, and his eyes appeared gloomy from constantly “Acting” cold.
Coupled with his slightly weak physique, he was definitely a gloomy, background male lead.
“Charm value… this is the core competitive edge for capturing heroines, right?”
Just as he was staring blankly at the panel, the dismissal bell finally rang.
“Hey, hey! Miko, want to go get bubble tea later? A new shop opened in front of the station!”
A vibrant female voice came from the front row.
Fujiwara Ai’s ear twitched slightly.
The speaker was a girl with short orange hair and a generous chest, Yurikawa Hana.
Next to her, packing her school bag, was a long black-haired girl, Yotsuya Miko.
“S-sorry, Hana, I feel a little unwell today. I want to go home early.”
Yotsuya Miko’s voice trembled, sounding like she had a cold, or perhaps like she had received an extreme shock.
Fujiwara Ai slightly lifted his eyes, his gaze passing over the shoulders of the students in the front row and landing on Yotsuya Miko.
The girl’s face was terrifyingly pale, her eyes red, as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
She kept her head down, desperately stuffing textbooks into her bag, her movements so flustered that she even knocked over her eraser.
And something was perched on her shoulder.
It was a bloated, gray-skinned “uncle.” Its neck was twisted at a strange angle, its cloudy eyeballs nearly popping out of their sockets.
It was staring intently at Yotsuya Miko’s profile, issuing a hissing sound that could only be heard at a specific frequency:
“C-can… you… see… me…?”
The thing’s drool was dripping onto Yotsuya Miko’s school uniform collar.
Yotsuya Miko’s body was stiff as a stone.
She bit her lip hard, pretending not to notice anything, but her trembling fingers betrayed her inner terror.
This was the effect brought by Fujiwara Ai’s Novice Gift Pack—[Spiritual Vision Lv.1].
Although he could only see blurry outlines and hear sounds, it was enough to cause SAN loss.
‘How pitiful, Miko-san.’
Fujiwara Ai silently sympathized for a second in his heart.
Just then, the long-silent System suddenly popped up a red exclamation mark.
[Ding! Random Task Triggered!]
[Task Name: Helping Hand in the Rain]
[Task Description: Yotsuya Miko is currently in extreme fear and, because she did not bring an umbrella, is about to face the predicament of being followed home by a Malevolent Spirit. host, please provide assistance without breaking character.]
[Task Reward: Charm +1 (Will subtly take effect within 48 hours), Random Life Skill Book x1]
The corner of Fujiwara Ai’s eye twitched.
He could only bite the bullet and go for it.
By this time, Yurikawa Hana had been called away by other friends.
Yotsuya Miko, alone, hurried towards the classroom back door, head bowed, carrying her school bag.
The Malevolent Spirit clinging to her shoulder was still relentless, even pressing its face against her cheek: “Hey… you can see me, right…?”
Tears were welling up in Yotsuya Miko’s eyes.
She gripped her bag strap tightly, and just as she was about to step out the back door—
“Please move.”
A cold, low, and utterly emotionless voice sounded next to her ear.
Yotsuya Miko jumped in fright, abruptly halting her steps, and fearfully raised her head.
What met her eyes was Fujiwara Ai’s expressionless face.
The young man was carrying his bag over one shoulder, holding a long black umbrella in his hand, looking down at her.
His eyes were hollow and deep, as if he were looking not at her, but at the void behind her.
“Fu… Fujiwara-san?”
Fujiwara Ai didn’t respond.
His gaze shifted slightly, landing on the Malevolent Spirit clinging to Miko’s shoulder.
Although, according to his persona, he should pretend not to see it, with [Spiritual Vision] activated, his eyes naturally focused on it.
The Malevolent Spirit seemed to sense Fujiwara Ai’s gaze.
It slowly turned its twisted head, its cloudy eyes meeting Fujiwara Ai’s dead black gaze.
For some reason, the unusual soul fluctuations Fujiwara Ai carried due to his transmigration made this Low-Level Malevolent Spirit feel a primal sense of unease.
“Scram.”
Fujiwara Ai’s lips barely moved as he uttered a single, faint word.
The voice was soft, audible only to him and the “thing” in front of him.
The Malevolent Spirit froze for a moment, then, as if it had been burned, let out a piercing shriek, quickly jumped off Yotsuya Miko’s shoulder, and vanished into the shadows of the hallway.
Yotsuya Miko felt a lightness on her shoulder, and the chilling, bone-deep cold instantly vanished.
She blinked in surprise.
Although she didn’t know what had happened, the terrifying feeling of being watched was definitely gone.
“Sorry, I was blocking the way.”
Fujiwara Ai spoke again, his tone still cold.
He turned sideways and walked past Yotsuya Miko, leaving behind a faint, clean scent of laundry detergent.
Yotsuya Miko stood rooted to the spot, watching the young man’s tall yet lonely figure, a strange emotion swelling in her heart.
Just now…
was that a coincidence?