Narcissus Yagami's POV
While Arisu was off playing her mind games with Kei Karuizawa, I decided to just stay in the classroom and chill.
This was honestly the best time of the day, the one perfect window where you could actually be alone without the constant, draining noise of all the different social groups.
Right now, they were all busy crowding the main hall, probably trying to join some club, desperately socializing to climb the school's twisted hierarchy, or in the case of guys like Yamauchi and Ike Kanji, they were most likely busy gooning in some secluded bathroom stall after seeing so many gorgeous women gathered in one place.
Not that I could blame them; given their sheer desperation and lack of self-control, it made perfect sense.
Behind me, the fat otaku with the thick glasses was also staying behind.
Maybe he, like me, couldn't stand the noise and the forced social interaction and genuinely preferred the solitude.
Sudo, of course, despite his usual anti-social and aggressive stance, was still stuck in the hall.
To be more precise, he was busy licking the boots of some seniors in the basketball club, trying to earn a spot.
He wouldn't be coming back to the classroom anytime soon.
And then there was Koenji.
He didn't even glance in our direction, completely absorbed in admiring his own reflection in a small hand mirror.
It made me wonder why this guy wasn't named Narcissus instead. The level of self-obsession was clinical. I bet if this guy was given the opportunity to have a perfect female version of himself come to life, he'd willingly sell his own soul to the devil just for a single glimpse of her.
So, I guessed that meant I was effectively stuck in here with those two other losers.
Fortunately, they weren't big talkers, so I could still enjoy my own peace and quiet.
Then, the otaku with the glasses suddenly broke the silence.
"Yagami-san," he said, his voice nasally and confident. "It seems we are the same kind. You also hate the world and women overall, don't you?"
What the hell?
Where did he possibly pull that conclusion from?
"Sorry, Wataru-san, but your guess is completely wrong..." I rebuked him firmly, not even looking up from my desk.
Wataru Ijuin flashed his glasses, the light glinting off them as he grinned with an unshakable, misplaced confidence. "You are, Yagami-san. I've seen right through you. Why don't you join me to read and watch some manga? You will understand. Your entire vibe radiates that of a loner protagonist in a manga, the kind who basically hates everyone and everything by default."
Okay...
I just deadpanned, giving him a flat, unamused stare. "No, thanks. I also read manga and watch anime, but not that much. Honestly, I prefer fanfiction better."
"Then, that makes it even better!" Wataru Ijuin clapped his hands together with a soft, fleshy sound, his enthusiasm bubbling over. But his excited chattering died a sudden, strangled death in his throat the moment the group of gyaru girls suddenly pushed the classroom door open.
He visibly flinched, his entire body shrinking back into his chair as he retreated deep into his anti-social persona, becoming as small and unnoticeable as possible.
I had to mentally applaud the sheer, raw speed of this guy's changing face. It was like watching a startled turtle yank its head back into its shell.
My attention, however, was pulled away as Kei Karuizawa herself broke from the gyaru pack and approached my desk.
Her expression was uncharacteristically apologetic, and notably, she wasn't flanked by her usual entourage.
She was alone.
From behind me, I could practically feel the fat otaku's eyes widen in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
He was witnessing what he must have perceived as an aloof, unattainable goddess voluntarily walking across the room to apologize to someone he probably categorized as a fellow loser, just like him.
"Sorry, Yagami-kun," she began, her voice softer than I'd ever heard it.
"I was really harsh with you yesterday. Please forgive me, handsome? Please?" She looked up at me, deploying a practiced, yet undeniably cute, pout.
"It's fine, Karuizawa-san. Don't worry about it," I replied, my voice calm and level, giving away none of the complex machinery turning behind my eyes.
"Then, it's decided!" she declared, her confidence snapping back into place with an almost audible click. "From now on, you shall call me Kei-chan, and I will call you Narcissus-kun. We're going to be friends."
The declaration was so bold, so utterly confident, that I could practically hear the sound of Wataru's brain short-circuiting.
His eyes were so wide I thought they might actually pop out of their sockets and roll across the floor.
How?
It's impossible!
This was the internal scream radiating from his direction.
Wataru was convinced this had to be a dream.
How could a person he had just identified as the "same kind" as him—a fellow loner, a reject—suddenly win the lottery ticket of life?
How could a girl like Karuizawa even look at him? It was so profoundly unfair.
Despite all his loud proclamations about hating women and the real world, a bitter, jealous part of him desperately wanted that plotline from a romantic comedy to happen to him, too.
What Wataru had no way of knowing was that I was cheating.
I hadn't won anything through natural charisma or social skill. I had used my female alt account to surgically cut through all the tedious character development and slow-burn arcs. I had identified the cracks in Kei Karuizawa's carefully constructed armor and pierced straight through to her closed-off heart.
"Okay..." I simply nodded, my social battery already draining. I genuinely didn't know what to say next.
I'm not good at socializing or small talk in the first place; this entire performance was a strain.
Fortunately, she didn't bother me any further after securing her victory.
However, as she turned to leave, her eyes briefly landed on the stunned Wataru.
She let out a soft, clear snort of disdain, her gaze lingering on his wide-eyed, pathetic expression for just a moment too long before she turned on her heel and left gracefully, seamlessly melting back into her chattering group of friends in the class.
Then, the classroom descended back into its usual noisy chaos as the bulk of my classmates finally streamed back in, having finished their business in the main hall where the student council president had given a speech and the heads of various clubs had tried to recruit us freshmen.
As the students settled into their seats, the teacher followed, and the class began in earnest.
I decided, for once, to pay full attention from the very start all the way until the final bell rang, absorbing every tedious detail.
By the end of it, a deep wave of mental tiredness and frustration radiated from me.
I let out a heavy sigh, my patience worn thin, and immediately sought refuge and refreshment on the school rooftop.
It was the one place I could truly unwind and have some fun with my other self, Arisu Sakayanagi, my cunning, beautiful female alternate account.
As if reading my mind, she was already there, waiting for me.
We made sure the rooftop door was securely locked behind us.
Without a single word of command from me, she gracefully dropped to her knees on the sun-warmed concrete.
Her delicate fingers worked at my belt and trousers, pulling them down just enough to free my already hardening cock.
She looked up at me with those mischievous violet eyes, licked her lips once, and took me deep into her warm, eager mouth in one smooth, practiced motion.
I tangled my hands tightly in her soft, lilac hair, using my grip to control the rhythm.
I began to thrust into her throat, not gently, but with a rough, relentless pace that made her gag slightly around my shaft.
The sensation was overwhelming, and it didn't take long before I felt the familiar, building pressure.
With a low, guttural groan, I came, pumping a thick, hot load of my semen directly down her throat.
She took it all with a desperate gusto, her throat working to swallow every pulse.
I kept pouring into her, load after load, showering the back of her throat with my seed.
It was in moments like this I found her unbearably cute, this perfect, brilliant girl who seemed to crave nothing more than to be filled by me.
She drank it all down as if she was parched, as if my cum was the only liquid that could truly sate her thirst, making water itself obsolete.
Arisu gulped frantically, trying to keep up with the deluge, but the sheer volume was too much.
Thick, white rivulets of my semen escaped her stretched lips, dripping down her chin and splattering onto the ground beneath her knees.
She choked violently, her body shuddering from the overwhelming amount flooding her mouth and throat.
When she finally managed to look up at me, her eyes were glassy, brimming with pure, unadulterated lust.
"Narcissus-kun..." she breathed out, her voice a hoarse, worshipful whisper.
"Arisu-chan..." I looked down at her with the same drunken, possessive intent.
In one swift motion, I flipped her over onto her hands and knees.
I pushed her white school skirt up around her waist, revealing her bare, wet cunt, already slick and ready for me.
I didn't wait.
I positioned myself behind her and drove my cock deep inside her in a single, sharp thrust, burying myself to the hilt in her tight, welcoming heat.
She cried out, back arching, fingers gripping at the ground as I gripped her hips and pounded into her.
And we fucked.
Hard, and raw, until the rooftop echoed with nothing but the slap of skin, her broken moans, and my low growls.
That was the end of our little break.