Chapter 20 – Classroom of Irregulars (Part 1)
The sunlight hit Zane's face the moment he stepped outside, warming his skin like a gentle reminder that the world still turned, even after everything he'd been through. The sky above was a striking shade of blue—brilliant and unmarred, as if the heavens had been freshly painted that morning.
He paused for a moment on the sidewalk, one hand raised to shield his eyes as he looked upward. "Haven't seen a sky like this in years," he thought. Back in his time, clean skies had become rare—overshadowed by pollution, heavy clouds, and unpredictable weather patterns that mirrored the crumbling state of the world. But this… this was serene. Peaceful. Almost unnatural in how untouched it looked.
"I can't tell if it's a good change or not," he muttered to himself.
There was something about bright, cheerful days that didn't sit well with him. They felt disingenuous—like a thin layer of happiness covering up something dark and broken underneath. The gloom of rainy skies suited him better. The overcast world reflected what he often felt inside—quiet, distant, watchful.
Still, he inhaled deeply, allowing the morning air to wake his senses. It was crisp and clean, a rare luxury where he came from. The scent of dew lingered faintly in the breeze, mixed with the soft rustle of distant leaves.
Slung over his shoulder was a navy-blue backpack—he'd found it in his apartment last night, filled with a few books, a tablet, and what looked like school materials. It hadn't taken him long to realize that today was his first official day of school in this strange new future.
"Curriculum's probably changed a lot since I was a student," he mused, stepping off the sidewalk and onto the main street. "Still, the basics should be there. Math, science, history… hopefully nothing too alien."
As he walked toward the school, he noticed other teenagers making their way along the same road. Most of them wore the same uniform he now did—a navy-blue ensemble with sharp tailoring and golden embroidery that shimmered subtly in the sunlight. The boys wore slacks, the girls skirts. The gold patterns along the collar and cuffs weren't just decorative—they looked like they might hold meaning, though Zane couldn't decipher them.
The golden strings were shaped into letters he couldn't read. Even though this new world seemed to use the language he knew, this was the first time he encountered things he couldn't read.
"Could just be a design choice," he thought. "Or maybe there's more to it... hidden tech, maybe? Some sort of ID mechanism?"
He followed the stream of students, blending into the group as best he could. Some of them walked in pairs or small clusters, chatting and laughing about topics he couldn't quite make out. He kept his ears open, hoping to catch something useful—rumors, gossip, anything that might hint at the school's inner workings.
But all he heard were typical teen conversations. Talk about homework, teachers, hobbies… and some odd references to things he didn't recognize—cultural shifts he'd yet to catch up on. Mostly about songs and other teenage media.
Eventually, the school came into view, and Zane slowed his steps.
It was busier than it had been yesterday. The tall metal gates stood wide open, and students streamed in like water through a broken dam. The building itself was pristine—white stone, dark glass windows, and towering in a way that made it feel more like a facility than a school.
"Didn't think I'd ever be back in a place like this," he muttered. "Feels strange."
He paused outside the gate for a second, observing. The faces around him were unfamiliar, but one thing quickly stood out. These weren't ordinary teens. Physically, many of them looked stronger than average. Their builds were leaner, their movements more coordinated. Some stood a few inches taller than he would have expected from their age group.
"It's not just one or two... Most of these kids have exceptional physical capabilities than average," he noted internally. "Mutation effects? Environmental adaptations? The Earth's changes must've altered baseline human physiology. Either that or they're training them early for something."
Either way, Zane was completely dwarfed by these students, and the difference was very clear.
He stepped forward.
It didn't take long for the stares to start.
As he moved through the crowd, he could feel the eyes on him—sharp, judgmental, and far from welcoming. His white hair and icy blue eyes were a stark contrast to the sea of darker tones surrounding him. It was like walking into a room where you didn't belong, and everyone knew it.
The whispers began to rise behind him like a tide.
"Isn't that him?"
"Yeah, that's the creepy kid…"
"I thought he dropped out."
"What's he doing here again?"
"Let's just steer clear. He gives me the chills."
Zane's brows furrowed slightly, though his face remained impassive. He hadn't expected a warm welcome, but the sheer hostility in their voices caught him off guard. Whoever this boy was—the one whose body he now inhabited—he'd clearly made a strong impression on his peers. And not in a good way.
"Just what kind of life did this kid live?" Zane wondered, tuning out the noise as he kept walking. "Whatever happened, these people haven't forgotten. Or forgiven."
The animosity and hatred were clear as day, and he didn't think it was just because he was pathetic. There was something else about these looks that confused him. However, he shook his head quickly.
'Will check that out later. Not the time for it.'
He didn't let it bother him. Stares and judgment were nothing new. He'd walked into more dangerous rooms than this. But the mystery of it all intrigued him—why was this version of him so hated? What had happened?
Passing through the courtyard, he took a moment to glance up at the building again. His class was labeled as "A"—from the data he'd pulled from the phone, that placed him in the ninth-grade group, top section. It didn't take long to find the building map near the entrance and orient himself.
Inside, the school was modern and polished. Wide corridors with high ceilings gave it a feeling of openness, though Zane noted the subtle security systems embedded into the walls—tiny cameras, heat sensors, pressure plates. Even in a school, they took safety seriously.
Near the entrance, rows of lockers lined the walls. Small closets with names engraved above them served as storage for each student's indoor shoes. He found his after a brief search, swapped out the pair, and continued deeper inside.
More students stared. More whispers followed.
He ignored them.
Climbing the stairs to the top floor, Zane found the hallway labeled for the ninth-grade classrooms. The further he went, the quieter things became. The energy of the building slowly faded behind him until all that remained was the soft echo of his steps.
Class 9-A was the last room on the corridor.
He paused outside the door for a moment, hand on the handle.
"Alright. Time to see what kind of chaos this classroom holds."
He pushed the door open.
The chatter inside stopped instantly.
Heads turned. Eyes locked onto him.
Seven students were already seated—some lounging, some whispering to each other. But all of them fell silent as soon as Zane walked in. The atmosphere shifted, thickening like smoke in a sealed room.
They stared.
He stared back.
And just like that, Zane knew—this wasn't going to be an ordinary classroom.
Not by a long shot.