Chapter 2: Hasegawa

Clickety-clack. Rumble-rumble. Sitting on the tram, Shangguan He gazes out the window, his eyes drifting to the distance. It’s not yet the season of renewal. Patches of snow linger, and the air carries a faint chill. The city’s greenery relies solely on evergreens to keep up appearances. Leaning against the window in his second playthrough, Shangguan He can’t help but marvel. “This world’s art style is something else.”

At first glance, it’s just a typical Galgame backdrop. But look closer, and you’ll spot signs like “○ City People’s Hospital” or “XX Street Office” hanging on buildings—terms that clash jarringly with this capitalist world. The setting feels muddled, like a mishmash of Japanese and Chinese school life. In Shangguan He’s eyes, it’s a knockoff Japanese-style Galgame—and a poorly made one at that. It’s not unplayable, but these kinds of games often end up as duds. Worse, they tend to spiral into absurd, over-the-top climaxes, as if the writer’s gone unhinged.

His eyelid twitches at the thought. “No way it’s that bad…” He sincerely prays this world isn’t some low-budget trash game from a no-name studio.

Four hours later, as Shangguan He dozes off, a cheerful, melodic announcement fills the tram: [New Leaf City, station reached. Passengers, please gather your belongings and disembark in an orderly manner…]

Stretching his limbs, Shangguan He strides out of the tram. Don’t underestimate his intel-gathering skills. It’s his first time in New Leaf City, but he’s already memorized the route to the school, thanks to his online research. Taking a taxi? Out of the question. Like any Galgame protagonist, he’s got food and shelter but barely any cash in his pocket. Oh, and this world’s smartphones are stuck in the early 2000s—flip phones or brick phones only. Using a phone for GPS is a pipe dream.

Leaving the station, he follows his memory, wandering for half an hour until he arrives at his destination just before noon. His first impression is a bit shallow. “This so-called century-old elite high school… isn’t the gate kind of small?”

To the left, a gray-white marble security booth and a narrow side gate for two people at most. In the center, a main gate wide enough for two cars, locked tight with black iron bars. To the right, a marble wall with the words “Shengquanyuan Girls’ Academy” in bold silver-black, adorned only by a few small lamps. Shangguan He shakes his head. High EQ: You can feel the rich historical vibe at a glance. Low EQ: What a dump. Did they salvage this from a junkyard?

From his research, he knows this elite school operates under a closed-off system. Students eat, study, socialize, and sleep on campus, only leaving on designated holidays. Winter, summer, and spring breaks are exceptions. It’s no wonder busy merchants and politicians send their kids here—convenient and hassle-free.

But this is bad news for Shangguan He. An outsider like him has to get past the gate first. Pacing back and forth, he hasn’t figured out how to sneak in when the security booth notices him. Seconds later, seeing he’s not leaving, five or six burly guards step out, cracking their knuckles…

“Crap, time to bolt!” Getting surrounded by those goons means a round of questioning he doesn’t have time for. He turns and sprints. Noticing the guards aren’t chasing too hard, he slows to a walk, sticking close to the school’s outer wall for five or six minutes. He’s looking for a physical gap in the defenses, something a single person could slip through. No luck.

Stopping before an iron fence about three people high, he looks up. “Not too tough to climb. I could hop over, take a peek, and leave…” Through the bars, he sees a red-brick school building. A nearby classroom seems to be holding a music lesson. The sound of girls singing hymns drifts over, pure yet brimming with youthful energy.

‘Alright, let’s do this! Here I go!’ Rolling up his sleeves, Shangguan He steps back to get a running start. “Hup!” He dashes, leaps, and grabs the upper bars, planting his feet on a support point, ready to climb higher.

A strong hand clamps onto his shoulder. A deep, magnetic voice rumbles behind him. “Student?”

Frozen in place, Shangguan He shivers. He turns his head slowly. A two-meter-tall, muscle-bound man with arms crossed stares at him, puzzled. The word “Security” gleams on the man’s stylish leather jacket. Of course. An elite school like this would have patrolling guards. And a young guy like him, skulking around a girls’ school? Total creep vibes.

The guard, thinking Shangguan He didn’t hear, repeats in that rich, commanding voice, “Student, what are you doing?”

Caught red-handed, Shangguan He answers without missing a beat, “Oh, haha, nothing. Just heading back to school.” “By climbing the fence?” “…Exercising.” He lets go, landing back on the ground, doubling down on the lie. “I’m in the parkour club. Just practicing.”

“Kid,” the guard frowns, clearly insulted, “this is a girls’ school.” “What, you’re assuming my gender?” Shangguan He’s face turns serious. “Huh?” “I just look a bit buff, have short hair, a deep voice, a prominent Adam’s apple, and a masculine style.” He spreads his hands, all reason. “Why can’t I be a girl with excessive testosterone, struggling with it, living as a boy to cope, but secretly sensitive and ready to bawl if called out? You know how much that ‘huh’ just hurt a girl like that?”

“What? Is that so? I’m really sorry…” “Nah, at least I’m not.”

With that, Shangguan He bolts. The guard stands stunned for a few seconds before chasing after him, furious.

Shengquanyuan Girls’ Academy, fourth floor of the main building, music classroom. A slender, graceful figure stands by the window, looking down at the commotion outside the fence.

“Hasegawa, break’s over! Let’s get back to practicing! We’ve got a live performance this month, so we need to nail the new piece!” Her bandmate’s voice pulls her thoughts back from the scene outside. “What’re you staring at? You’re so engrossed.”

Curious, the other girls crowd the window, only to see familiar ginkgo trees and the endless, cold iron fence. “Nothing, just a little farce.” The girl called Hasegawa gives a casual smile, then strides to her keyboard. Her slender, pale fingers dance across the keys like sprites. “Alright, everyone, let’s keep practicing.” [“““Yeah—!”””]