My Everyday Anime Life Has Collapsed 1.0

The morning sun dyes the blue bricks of the courtyard house a warm gold. You push open the vermilion gate and take a deep breath of the hutong air, which is beginning to fill with the smell of cooking oil. Familiar shouting comes from the yard next door—Mr. Hiroshi Nohara, briefcase in hand, is being chased by his wife, Misae, wielding a frying pan, hopping and arguing as he runs. Shin-chan, wearing a mini school uniform, is drawing strange things on the ground with crayons by the doorway, humming an obscure song. Himawari Nohara lies in her stroller, chewing on a ring of keys.

Just as you are about to look away, you spot a blue figure standing under the neighboring porch—Ms. Bulma, wearing a lab coat and holding a test tube under her arm, smiles slightly at you. It's a smile both business-like and mysterious. She seems to notice your gaze, but the smile quickly vanishes as she looks down at a spherical device in her hand (resembling something from Dragon Ball).

You slap your cheeks. This is already the third time this month you've had "déjà vu." But that's impossible. Those characters only exist in your memory—no, they don't even exist; they are just erased anime images. But why does this scene before you feel so familiar, so real?

"Hey, you over there!" Bulma speaks, her voice crisp. "The new neighbor? Don't just stare. If you want to watch, you'll have to buy a ticket with a Dragon Radar—just kidding."

You nod awkwardly, your heart pounding like thunder. What on earth is going on with this world?

You quicken your pace out of the hutong, trying to put the bizarre familiarity of your neighbors behind you. The street corner on your way to school is unexpectedly familiar today—a white ambulance is parked by the roadside, and two well-proportioned nurses stand beside it, chatting. One has her long hair tied back, her expression gentle; the other has sleek short hair and a sharp gaze. Wearing their white nurse uniforms, they seem to carry a soft glow in the morning light.

You stop in your tracks instinctively because that gentle face overlaps with a character from a long-forgotten late-night anime—Ren Nanase? And the one next to her is Narumi Jinguji. What are they doing here? But on second thought, the hospital is just three hundred meters around the corner, so it's not unusual for nurses to be here.

"Oh, excuse me, classmate, why are you staring?" Ren Nanase notices you and greets you with a smile. "Do you need help?" Her voice is soft, but it sends a chill down the back of your neck. You shake your head and walk past quickly. Yet, you can feel her gaze lingering on your back for a moment.

You grip your backpack straps tightly, your heart racing. Is it an illusion? Or have the characters from those erased works truly walked into reality? If so, why does everyone else seem completely oblivious? Why are you the only one who remembers?

The sunlight is blinding, and the school gates are right ahead. Deep breath. Now is not the time to think, except—two transfer students are joining your class today, and both are supposedly girls. Let's hope nothing goes sideways.

Pushing open the door to Class 3-2, the buzzing classroom falls silent for a brief moment the instant you step inside. Your eyes quickly sweep over the familiar spots—your seat is still by the window. However, the desks to your left and right have both found new owners.

The girl on the left is looking down, flipping through an English edition of a quantum physics textbook. Her short, chestnut hair is naturally fluffy, and her dark blue school uniform is neat and tidy. Sensing your gaze, she looks up, her confident eyes meeting yours—Mikoto Misaka. Yes, it's her, the transfer student known as the "Electric Princess" in competitions. She nods slightly, a friendly smile playing at the corners of her mouth, before looking down again. Her fingertips tap lightly on the edge of the page, seemingly revealing a hint of nervousness as a faint spark of electricity flashes between her fingers.

The girl on the right is completely different. She has flaxen hair adorned with a star-shaped hairclip on the left. Her school uniform jacket is left open, revealing a pale pink lace camisole, and her school skirt is pulled up slightly, exposing white over-the-knee socks. She is resting her chin in her hand, gazing out the window. Hearing footsteps, she turns her head, her eyes carrying a playful smile and a certain sense of insight—Misaki Shokuhou.

"Hello there, tardy classmate?" Misaki Shokuhou's voice is soft yet sharp. "Or are you a transfer student too? No, your name has been written on this desk for half a year now. So you're a regular. What, surprised by the lineup of your future seatmates?" She raises an eyebrow with a smile, wearing an expression that says she knows exactly what you're thinking.

Mikoto Misaka speaks up as well: "Don't mind her, she always loves to tease people. I'm Mikoto Misaka, a physics competition student. Nice to meet you." Her tone is sincere, yet carries a touch of pride.

Your mind is in utter chaos. The two in front of you are "characters" who walked straight out of your memory, residents of another world. Yet here they are, in the same classroom as you, breathing the same air. And you are the only one who knows their "true" background. Why you? What secrets does this world hide?

The class bell rings. You sit down, flanked by two heavyweights. This senior year is destined to be anything but peaceful.