Karmic Judge Rebooted

Chapter 3: Explosive Reputation

Sans fiddled with the collar of his black blazer as he stared wearily at the school. He hadn't moved from his spot in the car seat for the last five minutes. The car felt like his safe space, somewhere beyond the outside world, like the title card, as they changed scenery. He didn't want to get out of the car. He knew it was stupid. Why was he so anxious about going to school? Yes, it'd been years, but still. Maybe he was paranoid because he knew it would be crawling with humans, and the thought of being so close to them made his soul squirm in his chest.
Still, he knew he would have to go eventually. If he stayed sitting here any longer, Hizashi might think he was stalling.
Pushing his thoughts aside, Sans stood from the car and hauled his bag onto his shoulder. He felt paranoia swell in his mind like a tumour, so he took a deep breath in an attempt to alleviate the stress building behind his dam walls. Apparently, it helped humans to calm down, and he'd taken it upon himself to test the method's viability.

"see ya' after school, yamada." Sans gave the man a small wave before walking toward the school's entrance. The school was surrounded by a short gate, easily jumpable if necessary. In contrast, the school building stood tall behind it, painted a greyish white, and the tower in the middle was painted dull blue. The taller tower had a large clock near the top of the column. The hands ticked along with a barely audible 'tick'. The area around the entrance was swarmed with kids of various ages with various Quirks. Sans felt like a skeleton in a dog pit.

Was it too late to turn back?

Sans shook his head as he walked toward the entrance. There was no turning back. He had to do this. He hated that he had to, but he did. He needed to blend in, stay hidden from Frisk and give himself enough time to devise a plan. And going to school was a part of that.
Walking along the wide stone pathway, he could feel eyes peering curiously into his back. Waiting to strike.
The thought made his stomach churn and his palms sweat, sensations he was still adjusting to. Despite that, he kept his cool, calm composure and strolled through the yard as if he'd done it every day of his life. This would have been much easier if he had some liquid courage, but he knew this was just something he'd have to grow accustomed to.

Either way. Sans swaggered into the main building, looking along the numbered boxes and trying to find his. His fingers tapped rhythmically, following the sound of his heart ringing in his ears. After a short search, he located his and pulled it open, swapping out his shoes before moving deeper into the school.
The halls were relatively quiet, but they were enough to make him feel squished. He tried to navigate the halls without getting too close to any of the humans, consistently checking behind him to ensure no knife-wielding psycho would spring out from the crowd.
He sped up as he watched the tags above the classroom doors, trying to find his class, 3-C. He stopped when he spotted his classroom number, sighing before pushing the door open. Inside, a few students were scattered around, along with the teacher, standing at the front podium, marking some work. His eyes flickered to Sans before drifting back to his work, then back to Sans. The man smiled, leaving his podium and walking over to the boy.

"I'm guessing you're Comic Sans?" The man asked as he straightened his posture and sighed as his back cracked in multiple places. It seems the man spends a lot of time hunched over at a desk. "yep, that's me," Sans spoke, bowing his head in greeting.

"It's good to have you here, Comic, I'm Tsuyoshi." Mr. Tsuyoshi greeted. "Why not chat with some of your classmates until the class begins." He offered, Sans nodded along with the idea, wanting to make a good first impression.

Several nights ago, Sans had made a plan to talk with or learn about all the people he'd be in a class with and mentally rate them on their chances of stabbing him in the back while also trying to decrease that number by befriending them and making a reputation for himself.