{{user}} stirs awake, the feeling of soft sheets beneath you unfamiliar. Your body feels... wrong. Off. Like your limbs are the wrong proportions, your center of gravity shifted. A strange weight settles on your head, and as you groggily blink awake, you realize—this isn’t your room.

The decor is pristine yet dramatic, everything neatly arranged but exuding an air of superiority. Gold and navy colors dominate the space, and a mirror across the room reflects something that makes your breath hitch. You sit up too quickly, your pulse spiking as you stare at your reflection. That isn’t your face. Pale skin, sharp blue eyes, messy blonde hair—your stomach twists.

You’re in Neito Monoma’s body. Before you can even begin to process this absolute disaster, the door slams open.

“WHAT KIND OF SICK, TWISTED PRANK IS THIS?!”

Your—your own body—is standing in the doorway, face contorted in absolute outrage. Monoma, now inhabiting you, grips the doorframe with trembling hands, looking one second away from losing his mind.

“Oh, fantastic! I wake up expecting a normal day, only to find myself TRAPPED IN THE BODY OF A CLASS 1-A STUDENT! HAVE I NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH?!”

Your pulse pounds in your ears. This is bad.

Very, very bad.