I open my eyes.
A white ceiling, a cozy bed, a desk…
'I'm back.'
Quickly confirming I'm once again in the world of *Classroom of the Elite*, I sit up.
'What an absurd dream.'
I mull over the dream I just had—one where I returned to my old world, committed suicide, and witnessed my funeral. I don't know if it was just my mind at work, but one thing's certain: it's made me stronger.
In this body, my thinking's different. While I was lost and shaken in the dream, I can now process things calmly and methodically. Against all odds, I glimpsed my life before landing here, though some scenes remain hazy. In short, fed up with my shitty life, I killed myself, only to end up in this world, in this body.
'One thing's clear now: I'm not dreaming. As crazy as it sounds, I've genuinely crossed into this world from a novel.'
What's this new info good for?
I can live this new life fully, without fear of chasing a mirage.
'I've truly been given a second chance.'
I raise my right hand toward the ceiling, eyes following.
'It's time to fully let go of my old identity and embrace the new.'
"From now on, Matsushita Izumo is dead. I am Kōenji—Kōenji Rokusuke."
Yes, it's no longer "this body" but "my body."
To seal my words, I clench my outstretched hand into a fist.
I get out of bed completely.
'Hm, let's check the time.'
With that thought, I grab my phone from the nightstand.
"4:57 a.m."
I usually wake at 4:00 sharp, but it seems my dream kept me under longer.
"I should give her a call."
I dial a number and make the call.
Who am I calling at this hour?
The phone rings, but the person doesn't pick up.
'She's probably still asleep…'
I'm about to hang up and try again when the call connects.
[…]
"Hello?"
I take the lead.
[Yes?]
A female voice responds.
"It's Kōenji. Don't you check caller ID when you answer?"
[Yeah, yeah, of course I knew it was you.]
"You're still sleeping, aren't you?"
[No way. What makes you say that? I've been up since 4!]
"Haruka?"
[…]
A brief silence falls before she speaks again.
[So what? Aren't you supposed to be my alarm clock? Why're you only calling now?]
Indeed, a week ago, Haruka asked me to help her wake up early. She wanted more usable hours in the day. As for why, she claimed it's to be less lazy, but she doesn't know I'm onto the real reason.
Yukimura told me that, as punishment, he piles homework on Hasebe whenever she's caught dozing. Yup, she's dodging assignments by waking up earlier. Still, it's a step toward being less lazy, right?
"I had a deep sleep."
[Hm? Is Mr. Early Riser falling to the dark side?]
Hasebe teases in a mocking tone.
"Even if I fall, the dark side would turn to light, because I'm light wherever I go."
I hear a soft groan over the line.
"Anyway, even though we woke up late, we're still meeting downstairs at the usual time."
[What?! That's in, like, 30 minutes!]
"Is that a problem? Just hustle. I'm hanging up to give us more time."
[I'm a girl!]
Oh, right…
"Fair point. I sympathize. See you soon."
[Kuu…]
I hang up before she can retort.
"Time to get ready."
Normally, I'd do morning exercises, but time's tight. I settle for 200 push-ups and 100 crunches.
'That'll do.'
Without wiping down, I head to the bathroom: a five-minute shower, skincare, brushing my teeth. The whole routine takes ten minutes. Back in my room, I change. I always prep my clothes the night before—more efficient. Then, I whip up a salad and a fruit juice. By 5:20 a.m., I'm done. I sit on my bed, meditate for five minutes, and head out.
The hallways are empty.
I take the elevator down to the ground floor.
5:29 a.m. No surprise, I'm the first at the meeting spot.
I wait calmly at the lobby.
5:35 a.m., and I'm still alone. I'm not annoyed—this isn't the first time. If my companion were punctual, I'd have set the meetup for 6:00.
5:42 a.m. A figure approaches.
'Interesting.'
She's beaten her previous record of being 54 minutes late.
It's Hasebe.
She walks up, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her effort paid off—she's earlier than usual.
"Congrats, you just broke your record."
I clap lightly, trying to praise her.
Reaching me, she lets out a big sigh.
"I deserve a sweet for that."
She says, proud of herself.
"You'll get one when your record is on time or early."
I shut her down without hesitation, her shoulders slumping.
We head toward the school building.
"Gotta admit, waking up early is refreshing."
Hasebe says.
I nod in agreement.
The cool breeze, soft birdsong, and gentle light—not too bright, not too dim—are what mornings offer.
"By the way, Kuu, have you checked your points?"
Hasebe asks out of the blue.
'Oh, right, it's the first of the month.'
I didn't forget. I just don't see the point in checking something I already know.
I give a slight smile.
"Nope, not yet. Why?"
I play dumb.
I feel Hasebe's intense stare, but I stick to my act.
"You were expecting this result, weren't you? No, you *caused* it, admit it."
She finally calls me out.
"What're you talking about?"
"Stop playing clueless—it doesn't work on me."
True. We know each other well enough to read each other's thoughts, though in my case, I let her glimpse certain ones.
"Still, I was shocked to get a higher allowance than last month. I…"
"Higher?"
I cut her off, probing what she just said.
"Oh, quit pretending. You gotta tell me how you pulled it off, okay?"
'Hold on.'
I pull out my phone and check my point balance.
'What?'
I'm stunned by what I see but keep my face neutral, so Hasebe doesn't notice.
We keep walking.
I set the issue aside for now. Overthinking it's a waste when we'll get answers soon anyway.
The walk goes smoothly, and we reach our classroom. But the sign's changed. If I hadn't stepped in, Hasebe might've gone elsewhere, thinking the classes switched.
We're the first ones here.
Seeing our names on the desks, Hasebe relaxes further.
We settle into our seats—me striking my "cool guy" pose, Hasebe resting her head on her desk.
Minutes later, other classmates trickle in. Like Hasebe, they're confused, but my presence seems to reassure them.
Just before class starts, everyone's here.
The room's buzzing.
Time passes, and the bell rings, signaling the first period.
Soon after, Chabashira, our homeroom teacher, enters, holding a tube in her right hand. At her sight, the class falls silent.
Chabashira steps onto the podium, scanning us. Her expression's oddly relaxed, unlike her usual stern demeanor.
She looks at us for a while before breaking the silence: "Alright, today's class will begin. But before we start, does anyone have questions?"
Her words imply she's certain we do.
She shoots me a quick glance before surveying the class.
'Does she want me to volunteer? Why bother? Still, I'm the class rep…'
Right after her words, I raise my right hand. Chabashira's face twitches into a smile before quickly returning to normal.
She nods, giving me the floor.
I stand before the class.
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