So, why does my new semester have to start with an auditory hell?

I, Ayashiro Ai, an ordinary student who just wants to coast through until graduation from my second-to-last seat by the window in Class 2-A of Hoshimi Academy High School, am currently propping my forehead with one hand, feeling like there's a deafening heavy metal concert raging in my temples.

The classroom is so quiet you can hear the ancient air conditioner's low hum, but my brain feels like Grand Central Station at rush hour, packed with noisy, idiotic thoughts that aren't even mine.

"Man, I'm craving a sandwich so bad—"

"Last night's anime finale was epic..."

"Shit, I left my homework on the bus!"

"I'm totally screwed for math class this afternoon..."

These thoughts from others flood my mind like toxic comments scrolling through a sketchy video site, smearing across my consciousness. This is my "condition"—a cursed "telepathy" that can't be turned off or filtered by who's thinking what.

Because of this, I absolutely loathe crowds.

Just when this mental noise was about to drive me to a breakdown—and I was seriously considering dropping out—our homeroom teacher Mr. Suzuki appeared at the door with his trademark gentle smile, someone trailing behind him.

At that moment, the entire class's mental "comments" seemed to hit some mysterious switch, instantly shifting from chaotic to perfectly aligned, converging into a single flood of thought.

"Holy crap!"

"She's so tall!"

"She's drop-dead gorgeous, but ice-cold!"

"That aura... is she some rich heiress or something? No way..."

I reluctantly raised my head, following everyone's gaze, and found myself equally stunned.

A girl stood at the door.

She towered at nearly six feet tall, with raven-black hair tied in a sleek high ponytail that swayed with each step. Hoshimi Academy's standard navy uniform looked custom-tailored on her frame, hugging a model-worthy figure that made our dress code suddenly seem runway-ready.

But what truly captured everyone's attention was her eyes.

They were sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to see through everything while caring about nothing. Like the surface of a lake frozen in the dead of winter—unyielding, yet impossibly deep.

"My name is Kurosawa Rin. Starting today, I'll be joining this class. Please take care of me."

Her voice was flat and mechanical, stripped of any emotion. Her bow was laser-calibrated—not an inch too deep or too shallow, a perfect 90 degrees.

The entire class fell silent. What was with this intimidating presence? She carried herself like a military officer conducting an inspection.

Then, in that dead silence, Kurosawa Rin raised her head.

Her gaze, like twin laser beams from some high-tech scanner, completely ignored the front-row boys desperately trying to catch her attention, and locked onto my position with sniper-like precision.

My internal "danger radar" showed no reaction.

However, a deeper, more primal "oh shit" alarm in my gut triggered a full-scale alert, roaring so loudly it nearly drowned out the background mental chatter.

She strode forward on those long legs, ignoring the shocked stares, walked straight across the classroom, and claimed the only empty seat beside me. Her textbook hit the desk with a dull thud.

Then she turned her head and just... how can I describe it? With eyes like she was monitoring a nuclear launch site, she stared at me without saying a word.

The air between us turned to concrete.

I could "hear" the gossip frantically scrolling through my classmates' minds.

"No freaking way! Why is she staring at Ayashiro?"

"Is this some new pickup technique? It's way too intense!"

"Lucky bastard, go explode along with the PE teacher's toupee!"

...I've told you I'm not, I didn't—you bunch of brain-dead amoebas!

The corner of my mouth twitched uncontrollably as a miniature version of myself screamed inside my head: Can someone PLEASE remove this dangerous woman radiating "I will end you" energy from my personal space!

This woman is, without a doubt, the terminator of my peaceful existence!

The bell for first period rang.

That piercing gaze beside me showed no sign of letting up.

I could feel her sidelong glances drilling into my profile like nails with every equation the math teacher scrawled on the board.

For the love of God, spare me.

I just wanted to zone out and count down the minutes until freedom.

I forced myself to look out the window. Summer clouds drifted lazily, sparrows hopped around the playground—everything so blissfully normal.

Yes, peaceful. As long as I ignored the "human weapon" beside me, my world remained intact.

The self-delusion lasted for about... three seconds.

"Monitoring subject Ayashiro Ai, heart rate approximately 98 beats per minute, respiration frequency 20% above normal values, assessment indicates nervous emotional state. Recommendation: stabilize mental condition."

A clear, emotionless voice resonated directly in my mind.

Not the usual mental static, but crystal-clear "words" as if through high-end headphones?!

I whipped my head around, staring at Kurosawa Rin in horror.

She maintained the same posture, her lips completely motionless!

"...Was that you?" I whispered, barely audible.

She blinked, and for the first time, a slight ripple disturbed those deep eyes, as if confirming a hypothesis.

"Affirmative. To avoid public disturbance, I have switched to non-vocal communication mode. According to Article 3 of the Surveillance Regulations, I am obligated to inform you that your physiological indicators are abnormal."

The voice in my head continued.

My brain blue-screened.

Non-vocal communication mode? What the hell is that supposed to be? Telepathy? You've got to be kidding me—this cursed ability should only belong to one unfortunate soul in the world: ME!

"Your ability is classified by our organization as 'passive wide-range mental telepathy,' while I'm using 'directional thought conduction' based on quantum entanglement technology. The two are fundamentally different in principle."

She... she can even read my thoughts?!

Seeing my expression of absolute terror, Kurosawa Rin's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Warning, surveillance subject's heart rate exceeds 110, triggering mild risk alert. Do you require physical calming measures?"

Physical calming measures? What's that? A sedative injection or just knocking me out with a karate chop to the neck?

"Based on your physical constitution report, the latter would be more efficient."

"Stop! Cut it out!!" I finally snapped, mentally screaming.

At that moment, the bell rang, ending class.

Saved.

I slumped into my chair, completely drained. This forty-five minute class had been more exhausting than running a marathon.

I need to get the hell out of here.

I grabbed my lunch bag and was about to bolt toward my only sanctuary—the rooftop—when a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

It was Kurosawa Rin.

Her hand wasn't large, but it was firm and unyielding, like steel wrapped in silk.

"Lunch break. According to assessment, solitary activity would increase uncontrollable risks," she stated flatly, raising a black lunch box that looked unmistakably like tactical military gear.

"I will accompany you. This is my mission."

Every eye in the classroom locked onto us again.

Looking at her beautiful face with "Absolute Authority" written all over it, I knew my high school life was probably—no, definitely—ruined from this day forward.

My Classmate, the Human Weapon — Chapter 7

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