In Classroom

Ryuki pushed through the classroom door, the first-day buzz hitting him like a wave—squeaky shoes, nervous laughs, the faint chalky smell of a fresh middle school year. His uniform hung loose, tie sloppy from the bike ride, his white hair catching the morning light spilling through tall windows. Ruby trailed close behind, her steps soft, her uniform skirt swishing faintly. She'd stuck to him since they'd parked their bikes, her white hair tucked behind her ears, eyes wide with quiet excitement.

He scanned the room, spotting a girl alone in the back row, hunched over a book. Pink hair tumbled over her shoulders, soft and messy like spun sugar, framing a cute face locked in focus. Her nose scrunched as she read, lips pursed—totally absorbed. Third heroine, Ryuki thought, a thrill flickering in his chest. Yua Nakamura, the Pink Chef.

"Ruby, Yuta," he said, glancing at the duo flanking him, "Where we sitting?"

Ruby tilted her head, clutching her bag. "Um… somewhere nice, Big Bro?"

Yuta grinned, tossing his bag over one shoulder, his uniform already creased from leaning on the bike. "Last bench, like always. Prime spot—naps for you, scouting for me."

"Works," Ryuki said, nodding. He'd already locked in—right next to Yua. He led the way, sliding into the seat beside her, Ruby settling on his other side with a shy shuffle, Yuta sprawling behind me with a lazy stretch.

Yua didn't look up, her pencil tapping a beat on her book—Mastering Butter Chicken: Techniques and Traditions. Ryuki leaned closer, peering at the page. Sauce-stained notes scribbled in the margins, a tiny curry leaf doodle mid-sketch. Advanced cooking? Already? In the game, she was a culinary genius, but this was next-level for middle high—proof she'd devoured beginner and intermediate stuff years back.

Ruby peeked over his shoulder, whispering, "Big Bro, what's she reading?"

"Cooking stuff," he murmured back, smirking. "Fancy chicken."

"Hm," Ruby's eyes lingering on Yua's book before flicking away.

Yua stayed oblivious, a crumb of bread stuck to her sleeve—probably a breakfast remnant she'd forgotten. Her nails, bitten short, danced over the page. Focused little chef Ryuki thought, amused.

The teacher clapped his hands, a wiry guy with glasses perched on his nose. "Alright, up—introductions! Name, hobby, goal. Go!"

Kids popped up, voices stumbling. A lanky boy muttered about video games, a girl upfront giggled through her love of cats. Yua stood next, brushing pink hair back, "I'm Yua Nakamura. Uh… no real hobby or interest. Goal's good grades, I guess." She sat fast, cheeks pink, diving back into her book.

Ryuki smirked. Liar. That butter chicken obsession begged to differ.

Ruby went next, standing with a small bounce. "I'm Ruby Miyazawa. I like… drawing, maybe? And I wanna make friends." She flashed a smile.

"Sweet," Ryuki said, nudging her. His turn. He stood, hands in pockets. "Ryuki Akuma. Hobby's chilling. Goal's not failing." He dropped down, catching a few snickers.

Yuta leapt up,"Yuta Takeru. Basketball, football—love winning. Goal's nationals again."

The room shifted—girls' eyes locked on Yuta, whispers rippling like a tide. Junior school star—basketball captain, football ace, national-level hero. His broad frame and easy charm pulled them in, a magnet Ryuki couldn't rival. Not that he minded—his white hair and sharper, less-babyish face drew stares too. A girl with braids upfront twirled a strand, glancing his way; he ignored her, slouching deeper.

Ruby tugged his sleeve, whispering, "Big Bro, Yuta's popular, huh?"

"Always is," he murmured back, smirking. "King of the crowd."

Class droned on—syllabus, rules, the teacher's voice a dull hum. Yuta leaned over during a lull, nudging Ruby. "See that? Fans already. Middle school's mine."

She giggled, covering her mouth. "You're funny."

"Funny and awesome," he said, winking, then turned to a guy beside him—a freckled kid with a buzz cut.

"Hey," The kid lit up, nodding, and soon half the row was in—guys laughing, girls chiming in, a flurry of "Remember that goal?" and "You're so cool!" No envy, just admiration, Yuta's strange magic weaving them together.

Ryuki watched. Beside Ryuki, and heroines, everyone get charmed by Yuta. Guy or girls, both like him and more importantly, Yuta was also sincere and helpful to everyone, never backing down if anyone need his help.

His gaze slid to Yua, still buried in her book, pencil scratching. Then to Ruby, doodling a flower on her notebook's edge, her small hum barely audible. Beyond them, the room pulsed—kids swapping names, a girl upfront dropping her pencil, a boy by the window sneaking candy. Outside, bikes rattled, latecomers shouting, the schoolyard alive with first-day mess.

Ryuki's mind drifted. This world wasn't the game's anymore. He'd bent it too much. He had money, plans, heroines to find, he felt once high school end, and get his harem, he will go out and enjoy this world.

---

Lunch hit, and the group sprawled on the school's rooftop—Ryuki, Yuta and Ruby from one class, Saki, Asuka, and Rena from another. The sky stretched blue, a breeze tugging at their uniforms.

"Still mad, Saki?" Ryuki asked, popping a rice ball in his mouth.

She huffed, stabbing her chopsticks into a dumpling. "Yes! You and Yuta get to team up, and I'm stuck without my bro. Not fair."

"Fate's a jerk," Asuka said, sipping juice. "I'd trade Yuta for Ryuki any day."

"Hey!" Yuta protested, nudging her. "I'm a treasure."

"Trash," Asuka shot back, smirking.

Rena laughed, slicing an apple. "You're all ridiculous. Classes don't split us—we're here now, right?"

"True," Ruby said, nibbling a sandwich. "I like being with Big Bro, but I miss you too, Big Sis." She glanced at Rena.

"Let's bet," Saki said, eyes glinting. "If I sneak into your class tomorrow and don't get caught, you owe me ice cream, bro."

Ryuki raised a brow, chewing slow. "And if you get busted?"

"You get my dessert for a week," she said, grinning wicked.

"Deal," he said, leaning back. "You're toast—teachers love me."

"Pfft," Yuta snorted. "She'll charm 'em. Saki's sneaky."

"Wanna bet too?" Asuka asked, elbowing him.

"Ten credits—I say she fails," Yuta said, smirking.

"Done," Rena chimed in, tossing an apple slice. "I'm with Saki."

Ruby giggled, clapping. "This'll be fun!"

Ryuki shook his head, smirking into his rice.

----

The next morning.

Ryuki slouched into his classroom, Ruby trailed him, a pencil tucked behind her ear from doodling on the bike ride. Yuta bounded in last, tossing his bag onto the last bench with a grin. "Day two, man—Saki's move today. Think she'll pull it off?"

Ryuki smirked, sliding into his seat beside Yua, who was already nose-deep in a cookbook, "She's got guts," he said, "But no chance."

Ruby giggled, settling next to him. "She's tricky, Big Bro. Might surprise you."

"Doubt it," he said, leaning back. "dessert's mine."

Class ticked on—math, dull as dirt, Mr. Tanaka scribbling equations like a man possessed. Ryuki doodled a stick-figure Saki tripping in the margins, half-listening, while Yuta whispered basketball to a guy near him. Ruby sketched a flower, humming softly. The clock crawled toward second period—English, when Saki'd strike.

The bell rang, math books slammed shut, and kids shuffled out. Ryuki lingered, swapping his bag's contents slow, eyes on the door. Ruby packed up, whispering, "Think she's here yet?"

"Nah," he said, "she's dramatic—probably waiting for peak chaos."

English rolled in, the teacher—a wiry woman with a sharp voice—barking about verbs. Then—movement. The door creaked, and a head poked in—blue hair, pigtails, Saki's sly grin.

She ducked low, scooting behind a tall kid hauling a dictionary, aiming for an empty seat by the wall. Ryuki caught her eye, smirking. Amateur.

Yuta spotted her too, choking on a laugh. "She's nuts," he whispered, nudging Ryuki. "Look at that stealth—ninja vibes!"

Ruby turned, eyes wide, muffling a giggle. "She's so brave!"

Saki slid into the chair, hunching like she belonged, pulling a random notebook from her bag—a prop, clearly. The teacher droned on, oblivious, her back to the room as she wrote past tense on the board. Kids chattered, passing notes, a paper plane sailing overhead—perfect cover.

Two minutes in, Saki couldn't resist—she flicked a crumpled paper at Ryuki, sticking her tongue out. It bounced off his desk, rolling to Ruby, who stifled a laugh. The teacher turned, mid-sentence, eyes narrowing. "What's that noise?"

Saki froze, slumping lower, but her pigtails bobbed like flags. A girl upfront giggled, pointing. "Miss, there's a blue-haired kid back there—new?"

Ryuki smirked wider. Busted.

"Who?" the teacher snapped, striding over. She stopped by Saki, peering down. "You—name, now."

"Uh…" Saki flashed a grin, all teeth. "Saki… Takeru? Yuta's cousin! Visiting!" She jabbed a thumb at Yuta, who choked, coughing hard.

"Nice try," the teacher said, arms crossed. "Takeru's got no cousins here. Out—back to your class."

Saki stood, pouting, "Worth a shot," she muttered, winking at Ryuki as she slunk out, the room erupting in laughs. Ruby clapped softly, whispering, "She almost did it!"

"Almost doesn't count," Ryuki said, leaning back, triumphant. "Dessert's mine."

---

After school, they regrouped at the bike racks—Saki was sulking, "You owe me dessert," Ryuki said, wheeling his bike up, smirking smug.

"Fine," Saki huffed, kicking a pebble. "But I was this close—admit it!"

"Close's not winning," he said, ruffling her hair. "Hand over that pudding tomorrow."