As I kept pedaling, a few things started to stand out. The women in this city—Tokyo, or at least what I knew as Tokyo—were a lot bolder than I remembered. Their fashion sense had shifted, and their behavior was nothing like the shy, reserved girls I was used to seeing.
The men weren't much different. Their perversion was out in the open, yet no one seemed to care. No one called it out. It was like this was all normal.
What the hell kind of genre is this?
If I've really been transmigrated, maybe this is some weird manga or light novel setting. But no matter how hard I try to connect the dots, nothing clicks.
Seriously, just a hint would be nice. Anything to clue me in on what kind of world I'm dealing with. Because judging by my predecessor's memories, this might as well be a hentai. And worse? I might just be the NTR'ed protagonist. Not cool.
Well, at least that storyline is over. I can live freely now. Yay?
"Ah... there it is."
I pulled up to a small shop, parking my bike at the side.
Ber Ber Nishina.
A salon. Perfect. Time to get rid of this walking depression hairstyle.
Honestly, I don't get why Yuuto never bothered with a haircut. Was he going for the full edgelord aesthetic on purpose? No wonder the dude was a virgin. I can't show up to school like this—getting bullied on day one is not on my agenda.
With a sigh, I stepped inside.
"Welcome! Oh… a new face." A woman greeted me with a bright smile. "If you're looking for the best salon in town, you've come to the right place—Ber Ber Nishina!"
"Not exactly the most original name, though."
"Ugh. Touché."
I chuckled at her reaction as I made my way to a seat, giving her a quick once-over. She was beautiful, radiating a warm, friendly, motherly vibe. And—just like my boss from my past life—her tits were amazing.
Umu, umu. This place has potential. I might just become a regular.
"So… what kind of hairstyle are you hoping for?" she asked, twirling a pair of scissors between her fingers while spritzing some water into my hair.
I let out a contented sigh, shrugging. "Anything but this. Just make me look normal, please."
"Oh, that'll be easy." She ran a hand through my hair, humming in disapproval. "But seriously, why didn't you get this cut before? You haven't taken care of it at all."
"My brother was ragdolling my crush, and I was too busy moping about it."
"Sorry?"
"I said I was in my emo phase. I'm over it now."
She gave me a curious glance before shaking her head, muttering something about "teenagers being teenagers." Not that I cared. Loose lips have always been my thing. A new world wasn't about to change that.
"... Any particular reason you decided to cut your hair now?" she asked casually, working her scissors through my mess of hair. "Trying to impress a girl?"
"Nah. Just transferred schools. Figured I shouldn't look like the King of Losers on my first day."
"Transferring at this time of year? That's unusual."
"Meh. Circumstances."
"Hmm. Mysterious, huh? I like it."
She leaned in just slightly, voice dropping near my ear before throwing me a playful wink.
A tingle shot down my spine. Holy crap, woman! I'm underage! You're gonna get arrested for this!
...Seriously though. Those tits are amazing.
"...It's not as cool as you're making it sound, miss," I muttered, shifting in my seat. "I just wanted a fresh start, that's all. I am just a normal guy living a normal life."
"Mhm. And what's the name of this normal young man?"
"Kido Yuuto. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise, Kido-kun. You can call me Nishina. Just Nishina."
"I was actually gonna go with Oba-san—"
"I have a pair of scissors near your neck, Kido-kun. Think carefully before you finish that sentence."
Another chill ran down my spine.
Yup. Definitely not the world I am used to. But at least some things never change.
"... Understood, Nishina-san."
"Mhm. Thank you so much for your understanding!"
Yeah. This woman ain't normal.
---
"Damn, I am painfully average."
Nishina-san and I both hummed in agreement as I studied my reflection in the mirror.
Nothing remarkable, really. Just a thin guy with dark hair, dark eyes, and a face lightly peppered with freckles. If I had some weight on me, maybe I'd be considered cute, but as things stood? I was just another forgettable face in the crowd.
Unlike my siblings, who were both annoyingly attractive, I had been dealt the most unremarkable hand in the looks department. Not that I was expecting some grand glow-up or anything, but still—it wouldn't hurt to be a little better-looking.
"Don't make that face, Kido-kun," Nishina-san chided, her tone teasing. "I think you're very cute. Especially your freckles."
"Thanks. How much do I owe you?"
She pouted at my nonchalant response, clearly displeased. What? Did she expect me to blush? Dream on.
"You're no fun," she sighed before flashing me a small smile. "You don't have to pay for now. Just come again next time. Think of it as my little gift for adjusting to your new life."
My eyes widened slightly at the unexpected generosity. Wow... She's way too kind. Old man, you stingy bastard, you could learn a thing or two from her.
"Would that really be fine?"
"Yup. But before you go, I have one last question. Which school are you going to?"
That was out of nowhere, but it wasn't exactly a secret. With a light shrug, I searched my newly inherited memories.
"Hoshikawa Academy. I'm a second-year."
The second I said that, Nishina-san's face lit up. A grin spread across her lips, and she leaned in slightly.
"Wait, really?! That's great! My daughter's a second-year at Hoshikawa, too! I'll tell her to help you adjust!"
…Where the hell did that come from? I don't want to get involved with anyone!
"There's no need for that."
"I insist," she said firmly. "She doesn't hang out with many people—just a small group of friends. I'd love for her to get acquainted with a kid like you."
The genuine excitement on her face made me pause. Damn it. What's with that look?
Why was she trusting me so easily? Did she want something in return? Was she a succubus, waiting to drain my life force the moment she got the chance?
"You barely know me," I muttered.
"Hehe, call it a woman's intuition. I just have a feeling you're a good kid."
She patted my shoulder lightly, still grinning. What's up with this world? Are people really this friendly?
I sighed, giving her a small nod as I stood up. "...Thanks for the haircut."
"Come back again!"
---
As I walked over to my bicycle, I caught some commotion out of the corner of my eye.
A group of five—three guys and two girls, all around my age—were surrounding someone. A girl, to be precise. And judging by her uncomfortable posture, she really wasn't enjoying the attention.
"Are you alone? Wanna join us? We were just about to hit up karaoke."
"We'd love to have a pretty girl like you along."
She hesitated, biting her lip as she glanced around for help. Predictably, the crowd ignored her.
"I... uhm…"
"Oh, come on," one of the girls chimed in with a smirk—the classic mean girl type. "I know your kind. Acting all shy and innocent, but the moment you loosen up, you're just a closet slut."
The other girl laughed, nodding in agreement.
Behind them, standing back and observing, was the real problem.
Blonde. Muscular. Oozing douchebag energy.
At last, he finally spoke.
"Join us. We'll show you a real good time."
Wow. What a cliché.
Everything about this screamed "trap." Intervening was a stupid idea. I was in a scrawny body, outnumbered, and had no clue what kind of world I'd been dropped into.
I should just keep moving.
It's not like the girl couldn't just refuse—
"A-actually, I'm not alone!" she blurted out, her voice slightly panicked. "I'm here with someone!"
She darted her eyes around frantically. No one stepped up.
"Oh, is that so?" Blonde Douche took a step closer, invading her space. His smirk widened.
"Let's just invite them to karaoke, then."
His hand started drifting toward her lower back—
—and some dumbass grabbed his wrist.
Me.
"Go home and jerk off, fucktard," I said, my grip tightening. "Stop harassing women on the street."
Blonde Douche blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then his eyes darkened, and he ripped his arm from my grasp.
The girl turned toward me, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. There was something about the way she looked at me—part shock, part relief, part something else.
What confused me more, though, was why she hadn't just told them off. It's not like she was mute. Why was she so meek?
This world is weird.
One of the other guys—the shortest, but still a few inches taller than me—grabbed my collar.
"And what's it to you, hotshot?" he sneered.
"Yeah, what a loser," Mean Girl #1 scoffed. "He reeks of virginity. So gross."
"What she said!" the other girl chimed in.
"Teach him a damn lesson, Goro! Fuck him up good!"
...Tch.
Great. Now I've done it.
I really didn't want to get involved. I still had no idea what genre I'd landed in, and I wasn't eager to find out through trial and error. But if there's one thing I know—
The idiot holding my collar barely saw it coming.
A few quick, precise strikes—nose, chin, gut—sent him crumpling to his knees, blood dripping from his lips.
The group collectively recoiled. Even the blonde one seemed taken aback for a second.
The girl I'd just saved? She stared at me like I'd just pulled off a magic trick.
I sighed, adjusting my collar.
Systema.
"...I really don't like it when people grab my collar."
Silence.
Then, the realisation sank in.
I just kicked off a damn event flag.
I hate this genre. And I want out.
---
Yo, Dear Readers.
Author here.
We are done with the second chapter, and till now I have introduced 3 different hentai in this. God, it was very tough reading all that. So kindly provide me with powerstones if you want more chapters.
Nah, seriously, I will drop this book if it doesn't get good response. You guys have forced me to write a story on Hentai world, for God's sake! My pride as an author have taken a hit!
Make sure to leave comments as well. And if possible, please recommend me more stories I can include in this. I have zero clue and am just including whatever the hell I can find from other fanfictions. Recommend some, please.
Anyways, that's it.
Peace.