Asano Gakuho

I woke up, or rather, felt myself waking up, on a hard wooden chair. Around me were similar chairs arranged in rows, and a chalkboard covered in calligraphic handwriting. A classroom. An ordinary Japanese classroom, but something was off. The air vibrated, as if I had just passed through an invisible membrane, and the light scent of chalk mixed with something... old. Not musty, but rather, the smell of time.

I glanced at my hands. They were mine, but they seemed a bit... younger. And the clothes. I was wearing a school uniform I hadn't worn in about ten years. Panic began to set in, but then my gaze fell upon the person standing at the board.

He was young. Very young. Twenty, maybe twenty-two. His hair was neatly styled, and his eyes, even from this distance, radiated incredible sharpness and intellect. He was talking about mathematics, about complex equations, but his voice wasn't just informative—it was compelling. There was a power in it, a confident mastery over the subject and the audience.

And then it hit me. Those eyes. That voice. That aura. I knew him. I knew him, but not like this.

Gakuho Asano.

The principal of Kunugigaoka. The man who, in my time, was the embodiment of strictness, ambition, and an almost frightening efficiency. The man who built an educational empire based on fierce competition and the pursuit of perfection. But this Asano... he was different. He was young, full of energy, yet even then, that same unwavering determination was evident in him.

I looked around. The class was full. Students, all roughly my age, were listening intently. No one was distracted, no one was whispering. It wasn't just respect; it was... almost reverence. He held their attention in his hands like a conductor leading an orchestra. He was like Koro-sensei. The same methods.

I tried to remember how I got here. The last thing I recalled was sitting at home, rewatching old episodes of "Assassination Classroom," and wondering what Asano had been like in his youth. What kind of person he was before he became... the man he became. And now, here I am.