Anime Crossover: Tokyo Reincarnation Game — Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Kazoo Master of Class A

Of course, even if Shinomiya Kaguya possessed a smartphone and had been selected as a Player, her reality remained grim. The Shinomiya estate was less a home and more a fortress of paranoia, a sprawling castle where dozens of eyes monitored her every waking breath. Being thrust into a deadly survival game in such a suffocating environment would essentially be starting on hell difficulty.

Asagiri could feel the shift in the air. From the exact second Kaguya stepped into the Class A classroom, the atmosphere plummeted into an inexplicable, oppressive heaviness. The affluent students, who had just been chattering with the bright-eyed excitement of their first day at high school, were now sealed in a cautious, suffocating silence. It was as if they were living out the old proverb—fearing that a single loud breath might startle a descending deity.

‘It’s so quiet it’s annoying,’ Asagiri thought, his eyes half-lidded.

Lounging in his seat at the back corner of the room, he casually reached into the satchel hanging from his desk. His fingers retrieved a small, peculiar object. It was barely longer than a standard ballpoint pen, metallic, with a distinct circular ring near the top.

“It’s entirely too quiet in here,” he announced to the dead air. “Allow me to play a tune for everyone.”

Every head in the room, including Kaguya’s, snapped toward the corner. Before the heiress could even process the bizarre shape of the object, a deeply obnoxious, buzzing vibration ripped through the pristine acoustics of Class A.

Bzz-bzz~ bzz-bzz-bzz~

The collective brainpower of the room short-circuited.

What in the world was that noise? It was a muffled, buzzing hum that occasionally cracked and popped. The tone was inherently ridiculous, radiating an aura of pure, unadulterated absurdity that made a person want to burst into hysterical laughter. It was an entirely abstract assault on the senses.

The real problem was Asagiri himself. He was playing the instrument with the solemn, unwavering focus of a concert pianist at Carnegie Hall. Setting aside the atrocious buzzing, the actual melody was infectiously catchy. The juxtaposition of a terrible instrument and perfect pitch created a brainwashing loop that burrowed directly into the listeners’skulls.’A kazoo?’

Kaguya finally matched the obnoxious buzzing to a name. It was a crude, ancient little toy. As long as a person could hum, they could play it without a shred of actual musical talent.

But… why?

Her sharp mind spun in circles. Why would the boy in the corner suddenly start blasting a kazoo in the middle of Shuchiin Academy? Was this some sort of avant-garde performance art?

Right at the peak of the buzzing, the classroom door slid open. A middle-aged female teacher stepped inside. She wore a sharp, professional suit skirt, gold-rimmed glasses, and carried the stern aura of a woman in her forties who had zero tolerance for nonsense.

Kaguya assumed the boy would immediately drop the toy in a panic.

Instead, Asagiri maintained unbroken eye contact with the teacher and blew harder. It was as if someone had slammed a two-times speed button. The melody went into frantic overdrive.

Bzz-bzz-bzz-bzz!

Kaguya stared, utterly speechless. How was he getting so worked up over a plastic tube?

After a grueling, uninterrupted minute of high-speed buzzing, Asagiri finally lowered the kazoo. Meeting the bewildered stares of the entire class, he remained perfectly composed. He stood up from his desk, placed one hand over his heart, swept his other arm out, and delivered a flawlessly elegant, theatrical bow.

“A kazoo rendition of ‘Shape of You,’ dedicated to you all.”

Standing behind the podium, the newly arrived teacher watched the grand bow without a single twitch of her brow. She didn’t yell. She didn’t sigh. She simply pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and spoke in a perfectly flat, deadpan tone.

“Utsunomiya-san, have you finished playing?”

“I have finished,” Asagiri replied smoothly.

The teacher gave a microscopic nod, swept her cold gaze over the stunned heirs and heiresses, and began.

“My name is Ashikaga Miwa, and I teach Chinese literature. Starting today, I will be the homeroom teacher for Year 1 Class A. You may address me as Ashikaga-sensei, or simply Teacher.” She paused, letting the silence stretch. “Let me say something unpleasant upfront. I have a highly rigid personality, and my teaching methods are strict. I am well aware that many of you hail from incredibly wealthy and influential families. But let me make one thing absolutely clear. Here at Shuchiin Academy, within the walls of my classroom, I do not care what your parents do for a living. I do not care how deep your political or financial backgrounds run. My sole standard for evaluation is your individual capability as a student.”

The rest of the class sat in a state of collective shock.

Wait, we’re just moving straight into the syllabus? The guy blasting a kazoo for a solid minute just gets a free pass? What kind of twisted logic is this? Does having a handsome face grant you total immunity?

Kaguya, however, was analyzing the data from a completely different angle.

He had publicly delayed class time with a cheap toy, yet this notoriously strict teacher hadn’t issued a single word of reprimand. She had even politely waited for him to finish his performance before introducing herself.

Was it because his family background was simply that terrifying?

No. If a monster of that caliber existed in her year, Hayasaka Ai would have placed a dossier on her desk weeks ago.

Then there was the way Ashikaga-sensei addressed him.

Utsunomiya-san? Could it be… Utsunomiya Asagiri?

The name struck a nerve deep within her chest. Kaguya would never forget the suffocating, complex knot of emotions she felt the day the Shuchiin Academy entrance exam results were posted. She had looked at the board, expecting to see her name at the absolute pinnacle, only to find herself ranked second. The name sitting directly above hers, claiming the throne of the first-year class, was burned into her memory.

Utsunomiya Asagiri.

‘So it was him…’

Kaguya shifted her gaze back to the corner. Asagiri was already staring out the window, looking entirely bored with the world. A bitter, complicated feeling twisted in her stomach.

Kaguya didn’t actually mind losing in most aspects of life. In fact, she frequently lost on purpose if it served a broader social strategy. It wasn’t humiliating to play the fool.

But there was exactly one exception to that rule.

Academics.

When it came to her studies, Shinomiya Kaguya gave absolutely everything she had. She refused to lose to anyone.

“Now then, let us proceed with self-introductions,” Ashikaga Miwa announced from the podium. Her sharp eyes cut across the room and locked onto the boy in the corner. “Utsunomiya-san, please begin.”

Asagiri didn’t bother to stand up. He didn’t decline the order, either. Meeting the heavy, scrutinizing stares of every elite student in the room, he merely let a faint, amused smile touch his lips.

“Utsunomiya Asagiri. Sixteen years old. Transfer student.”