Am I The Only Male Tenant Here?

Amatsukaze University—revered for its heritage, famous for its academic rigor, and... quietly worshipped for its sheer population of goddess-tier female students.

Now, to be absolutely clear, I didn't transfer here just for that last reason. Not officially. Not when I have to write it down on a scholarship application or tell Tomoko over dinner.

"The prestige of Amatsukaze University and its exceptional graduate outcomes make it a smart strategic move for my career," or something like that.

...Which is total crap. I mean, seriously—have you seen the uniform skirts here? It's designed like they're prepping for a youth-themed fashion show on late-night TV.

Anyway.

By the time I stepped onto campus, the floodgates had already opened. Spring semester. Warm weather. Legs out. Skirts hiked. Hormones unchained. And your boy Ginjo Sousuke was already on the radar.

Passing by the shoe lockers near the entrance, I could feel their eyes. The brief upward glances. The blushing. The half-whispered kakkoii~s. And to be fair...

My eyes weren't exactly looking at the ceiling either.

White stockings gripped snug to silky thighs. Bare, smooth legs from knee to mid-thigh. That uniform combo—fitted blouse barely holding back the blessed and pleated skirt rolled to scandalous heights—was a declaration of war.

"Lord have mercy..." I muttered under my breath, trying not to grin like an idiot.

At exactly 8:30, I arrived at the classroom door. The chatter inside buzzed like a wasp nest—eager freshmen, hungover upperclassmen, probably one guy already simping for the class rep. I was told to wait outside for formal introduction protocol.

Within a minute, the teacher arrived. Middle-aged guy. Balding. Thick glasses. Suit straight out of the 1990s. Classic homeroom teacher template.

"Come with me, Ginjo-san."

He led me in. All eyes turned to me. And boom—you could hear the oxygen get sucked out of the room.

"Everyone, today we're welcoming a new transfer student. Ginjo-san, please introduce yourself."

I took a half-step forward, gave the obligatory bow. "Nice to meet you all. I'm Ginjo Sousuke. Please take care of me."

"Kyaaaaa~! So handsome!!"

That was a real scream. From the front row. Someone's hand slapped over her mouth a second too late, but the damage was done.

The girls were already whispering furiously to each other. Some looked like they were about to explode into glitter and hearts. I half expected them to throw roses.

The guys? Well... let's just say their enthusiasm was nonexistent.

Jealous glares. Sullen shrugs. One of them looked like he'd just found out his girlfriend liked my latest Instagram photo. Sorry, not sorry.

I took a seat in the far back. It's strategic—you get a clear view of everyone else, and nobody bugs you unless they really want to.

Still, even there, I could feel the burning gazes from a few particularly bold girls in the front row.

I sighed internally. Being hot is suffering.

Morning classes dragged on. Material was easy. I spent half the time staring out the window, admiring the ginkgo trees and red-brick walls like I was in a shoujo anime.

One of the girls kept glancing back at me. Every time I looked vaguely forward, she'd fidget and try to catch my eye.

Please, girls. Control yourselves.

When break finally came, I thought I could breathe.

Wrong.

"Ginjo-san, where'd you transfer from?"

"Hokkaido," I answered. A dozen curious faces lit up like Christmas.

"No way! That explains the fair skin!"

"Do people there wrestle bears?"

"Are you good at snowboarding?"

"Join our swimming club! You must be good at water sports!"

I coughed. "Thanks, but I work after school. No time for clubs."

"Wow~ he's responsible and handsome!"

Before I could say anything else, my phone buzzed with half a dozen LINE friend requests.

Honestly, girls are way more aggressive than guys when they decide to simp. And they're shamelessly competitive.

I had to politely dodge every lunch invite and flee before one of them tried feeding me tamagoyaki by hand.

Wandering until I found a quiet empty classroom, I slipped inside and sat down near the window. Peace at last.

Outside, I watched couples holding hands under the cherry blossoms.

I popped open the bento box Tomoko made me.

Pink box. Hearts on the toothpicks. Wasn't even mad. That woman cooks like she's competing for "Wife of the Year."

Fried shrimp. Tamagoyaki with cheese. Seaweed. Cherry tomatoes. All arranged with terrifying precision.

It was delicious. Even cold, it beat anything in the cafeteria.

Midway through chewing a shrimp, I smiled to myself. Maybe this life wasn't so bad.

Lunch passed too fast. Back in class, I sat through more lectures, barely awake. At one point I yawned so hard, the girl up front thought I was making bedroom eyes at her.

She turned around three times trying to catch me looking. Sorry, sweetheart—I was fantasizing about napping, not dating.

Finally, the afternoon bell rang.

Just as I stood to stretch and escape, a voice called out from the classroom door:

"Ginjo-san! The student council president wants to see you!"

...Huh?

Was this the start of another event flag?

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