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;;; ->> scene change         ~~~ ->> pov change

{PROLOGUE} Surprise! Concussions Aren’t Actually Good For Mental Health.

“What…—----FUCK—-y–-d-ing?!” a distant feminine voice yelled out in fury from upstairs. Whack! A loud slapping sound echoed from above, jolting the man awake.  “GET OUT!!!”  

BAMM!! The door from the floor above slammed shut, loud as a gunshot. The man was a little dazed, frantically surveying his surroundings. The small, black desk his head was resting upon had a little drool from his ‘nap’. His hands were placed on an old laptop; the screen had already gone dark. There were red imprints from where his arms were leaning on the edges of the desk, causing him to wince a little in pain. He slowly got out of his chair, stretching out his stressed back and legs. How long had he been out? The light in his room had not turned off. He sighed. This wouldn’t be good for his pockets. He lopsidedly took two steps to the window of his small room. It was already dark. Most of the lights within the opposing complex had been shut off, leaving only the flickering yellow street lamps to illuminate the pitch-black surroundings. The tiny winding street was carless, and the smog had covered anything resembling stars. His stomach grumbled; he hadn’t eaten lunch or breakfast either. Damn. He drunkenly made his way to the mini-fridge beside his bed, ignoring the tiny trash can overflowing with cans of beer and soda, about to fall over. At least they weren’t strewn all over the floor, right? The fridge made a tiny humming noise, igniting the sparsely lit room with a glimmer of white light. Alas, it was empty. No food. No water.

“Damn,” he muttered, shutting the door. He didn’t feel like going out. But he felt obligated to. He grabbed the keys which were looped onto the coat rack and a wallet filled sparsely with change tossed next to his pair of shoes. With his phone flashlight on, he went down the stairs. 

The whole area was empty. Lifeless, even. The houses were dead and dreary; there weren’t any working stop lights either, not for this area at least. There was a hint of smoke and chemicals dripping from the alleyways. Thump. Thump. He walked as quietly as he could despite the absence of anyone else as if the air itself were a sleeping entity. Then he crossed the corner, and there it was. The convenience store. The word ‘HENEIREN’ was imprinted in large, neon letters on its sign. Criii-i-ing! The bells rang, signaling the entrance of a customer. The man instinctively set toward the refreshments section, packed with all sorts of drinks, from water to whiskey. His eyes drifted down to a small marker, displaying two of his favorite words: “On Sale”. 

“Shit. Only this much for a six-pack? What a deal,” he grumbled longingly, trying to force his eyes away from the tempting offer. “Fuck.” He shifted his focus toward the ‘healthy’ drinks on the upper levels, the teas, juices, protein shakes, and the like. “Green tea’s… like a healthy tea, right?” 

Taking a chilled bottle, he shuts the door to the fridge and gets himself some beef jerky sticking out nearby. With his midnight meal in hand, he stalks toward the counter. The shelves he passed were stuffed full of packs of cards and Marlboros, boxes of board games and water guns, lighters, and candies; he’d always ignored the mess, though. A drink and a snack. It wasn’t much, but hey, at least it was something new.

The sleep-deprived cashier lazily shifted his eyes toward the man, not bothering to put his phone away. Then his eyes land on the items for purchase. He lifts an eyebrow.

“A few weeks reading peak and now you’re a ‘changed’ man, huh?” the cashier asks.

“I see your obsession is as strong as ever,” came the non-committal answer.

“But at least it’s better than the ‘manga’ you’ve been reading, right? The mind game stuff just hits you in the feels, the pretty women too, yeah?”

“Guess so. Now can you please do your job now? I wanna go sleep.”

“Damn, now you’re ‘cosplaying’, huh?” the cashier chuckles as he reaches to scan the items. “Why so seri– oh wait! When’re you done reading volume 10, huh?”

*beep!*

“Almost done. Just wait a few days.” He’d already read it twice over. “I’ve been busy lately.”

*beep!*

“Hmmm,” he sighs. “I guess you’re really startin’ to busy up, huh?” 

The items were put into a plastic bag and then placed on the counter.

“...Yea.”

“Well, that’s nice. Finally putting your skills to use?”

“And you can too, just don’t read too much of that fanfiction like you’re doing now and you’re good.”

“Fuck.” He puts his hands out in mock surrender. “You caught me. But it’s the best lazy-job ‘round here.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t put too much …pressure on yourself, gotta keep motivated, yea?” the man says as he takes his items from the counter. “Seven dollars, right?”

The man left the store, once again ignoring the jingling of the bells. Inflation really sucks balls, but he at least wasn’t that poor. He opens the bottle of green tea, letting himself take a large sip. The cold liquid sloshes in his mouth, letting his tongue taste the subtle notes of the bitter leaf– yeaaaa no. This is America, what else is there except sugar? 

Who cares anyway? At least he didn’t bother to. He swallows, feeling the cold, tingling sensation run down his spine. He looks to the sky, searching for the moon despite the bleary clouds, losing himself in his own musings. Perhaps if he gazed deeply enough, he could see the faint light of the stars. And then, there was a flash of light within the sky… was it???? It grew, painting edges onto the black mass of darkness, drowning it in light. From behind came a rumbling of tires, the whirring of an engine coming ever the closer. He swallows, his heart pumping and trembling within his chest. He felt the vibrations smothering his skin, hitching his breath. He didn’t need to run. The truck was too close, too fast; but he did anyway. All while screaming like an idiot. Mind racing, arms shaking, he wills his legs one stride at a time. Then….

BAAAAMMMM!!! He felt his stomach and legs get hit by an immeasurable weight. He fell down, head hitting the concrete ground. Something –many things– cracked. Iron bile began to invade his nose. Quicker than he could process, pain blossomed and spread across his body. He could no longer breathe properly. He could no longer move his limbs. This…hurts…… The outlines of his hands which were once so clear began to blur and melt. The truck, as if ignoring his very existence, continued on its path, crushing the bones of his legs. Blood spilled out in rivers of crimson; the air polluted, unbreathable. His lungs were punctured, his chest huffing, mouth choking. He should have died. He should have lost consciousness, yet he was forced to remain awake.

He willed himself to scream, feeling the searing pain in his throat. Yet he couldn’t hear it at all. Was it anger? Regret? Desperation? He could no longer think of those words. 

He simply gives up, head resting on the ground. The sky… at least there was a light shining on it. And he finally closes his eyes. 

;;; 

{FUGUE EN ROUGE >→>>70%→LOADING>>>>\\\}

WHACK! The man opened his eyes from the shock of hitting his head. Wait… what did he hit anyway? He instinctively shifted his eyes down, expecting to examine the crushed bones and ripped organs. Yet, the injuries were nowhere to be seen despite the echoes of pain. 

“Excuse me, but shouldn’t you give up your seat?”

A conversation in Japanese was occurring some distance away. What? His clothes– they weren’t his. Red, ironed sleeves, a white undershirt neatly tucked. His head jolted to his body. A tie, why the hell was he wearing a tie?! He tightly clenched the fabric and tugged at it, and when it didn’t tear, he started to pull at his necktie. Sturdy too… This situation and atmosphere were too strikingly familiar. Then his eyes shifted to his surroundings. Windows… seats and windows, and passengers. A bus. He jerked his head to the right to see a brown-haired brown-eyed girl sitting next to him, posture straight and rigid. He gazed hastily to the seats in front of him.

“Hey, you there. Can’t you see that this elderly woman is having trouble?”

His breath hitched. An average male with brown hair and curtained bangs was glancing to the right. He looked like he had just been robbed of a nap. Don’t tell me… An elegantly postured teenage girl wearing the same red uniform, reading a book… sitting next to the inconspicuous teenager. Flowing black hair, a braid on the side… 

“Dreams are often inspired by things we read and interact with. So…this would make sense,” he muttered as he shook his head. But why? In the moment his life would eventually flash before his eyes, he had always thought it would be the moments of him and his family, and his past friends. Not about… some random light novel series he’d begun weeks prior. The uniform, he could feel the fabric folding and stretching. The seat was firm yet a little bendable for passenger comfort. He could hear his heart beating loudly, the swallow of his throat as he tried to calm himself down. The whirring of the vehicle’s engine led to a slight rumbling vibration on the seats. “What. A. Strange. Dream.” He swallowed again. His head bolted to the priority seating area nearer to the front of the bus. There better not be a pompous blo–

“That’s a really crazy question, lady.”

Shit. Occupying the entire three-seat row sat the feared narcissist, with long, dyed-blonde hair, and a large, muscular frame. He noticed the hobbling old lady without a seat and the very officer worker demanding the teenager to give it up. The man simply sat frozen, not allowing himself to process the information.  …At least–

“Um… I think this lady is right.”

The man couldn’t stand it anymore. He could tell himself that this was all an illusion, but deep down he wasn’t willing to accept that explanation. Is this… my new reality? He stood up, feeling the ground beneath his feet. Feeling multiple gazes target him simultaneously. He did another panoramic scan. Dozens of identical faces, the same brown hair and brown eyes. His arm moved on its own, moving frantically for any sharp protruding object. There!!

CRA-A-A-AAACK!!! The window had broken, its tinier shards flew off and grazed his skin. The wind was billowing, blowing his hair into a wild mess, worsening his cuts. The man gazed outside. Buildings upon buildings, the same thing over and over again. 

“Young man?! Get back!”

The NPC girl sitting next to him didn’t budge, simply staring at him. The dozens of identical heads simultaneously swiveled to gaze emptily at his face. Everyone was stuck to the ground. Brown hair, brown eyes. Faces blank. The same faces everywhere. 

“GET BACK! IT’S NOT SAFE!!!”

The voice. It just sounded like the rest of them. The man simply didn’t care, not stopping his legs from leaping to the bright morning air.

The world mixed again into an indecipherable soup. He felt himself drown in a familiar, trance-like state, as if overdosing on doxylamine. Wake…up……I want to wake up. 

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.

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“So this is what 500 kilotons of God feels like, huh?” a man was joking, voice heavily slurred. There were still all sorts of tubes strung to him, this pitiful patient.

“C’mon, *****, stop making light of this!” a protesting female voice rings out. Her eyes begin to crack and tears flow out. “I…don’t you feel……angry at me?”

.

“I apologize madam. The anesthesia has not completely worn off. The patient may be slightly woozy or confused in the process.”

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.

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“Ta…kahashi-kun?......Takahashi Hito-kun?!” a warm yet worried voice resounds across the room. It was a little tense with trepidation, yet eager to please. 

The man drowsily opens his eyes, an imposed weight forcing his head down. He struggles a little to shift his fingers, trying to make sense of yet another annoying situation. Well, not really. His plain brown hair messily sticks to his sweaty forehead, akin to a nest for birds. There was a gentle yet imposing scent of orange and citrus permeating the otherwise pure air. 

The shapes and figures finally begin to come into focus, and the red splatters delineated into neat school uniforms. Affably, an entire small group of students had appeared to come and greet him; a striking girl was standing front and center of his vision. Her long strawberry blonde hair gushed down to her hips, neatly combed yet thick and luscious, the tender feathers of a dove. Her alluring blue eyes were pure and creased slightly in worry for her compatriot’s current condition; the man could see his own pitiful figure within the irises gazing back. There was no need to further describe the voluptuous curves of her enticing figure accentuated by the tight uniform and terribly short skirt.

“Uhm… hmmm,” he nodded, unsure how to respond.

She pauses, then giggles at the awkwardness. “Hehe, I apologize for being so abrupt!” She reaches out her hand. “I’m Ichinose Honami, your classmate in 1B! I hope to have a great time with you these next three years. And…” Her eyes soften a little as she observes the hospital bed. She softens the intensity of her cantabile voice, aiming for something soothing and gentle. “I hope you recover smoothly and quickly. I’m always available if you need any help.”

Takahashi dazedly shook her hand; his mouth was partly hanging open. He licked his lips —as they were dry— and proceeded to nod. “Nice to meet you Ichinose?” 

“Yahallo~! I’m Amikura Mako, but just call me Mako-chan! Nice to meetcha,” a boisterous yet composed girl began, her ponytail of purple and blue bobbing up and down as she did so.

“…and em, I-I’m Shiranami Chihiro! Nice to meet you too!” said the third girl, a little shy. 

Their greetings faded into the background as he slowly lost focus and the voices merely became trivial noise. His reflection. He could see his own distorted reflection within those blue eyes. He then began to clench and unclench his fists and wiggle his legs. They were trembling slightly.

“Ooh!” Ichinose half-squealed as her eyes lit up. “My friends and I have brought a little surprise~!”

He ignored her. The man slowly rose from the hospital bed, his school uniform still intact. The eager girl went to pick up a tiny wrapped gift box, anticipating her new acquaintance’s reaction. Is this my new reality? 

He shifted his body weight from one leg to the other, wriggling his trembling hand. A moment later—Smack! There his palm went. A powerful squeeze, and then a swipe. Across her breasts. There was a yelp and a gasp. 

The man slowly shook his head. Takahashi’s eyes remained wide open as the teenager sunk into the bed yet again. 

Ichinose’s friends quickly began to steady her footing, providing support for her body. They glared accusingly at their shockingly perverted classmate. What a disgustingly forward person! 

{CHAPTER 1} A Day In Paradise Will Never Last Long.

**warning: slow-paced(?)

I couldn’t exactly process what was going on as my reality became dislodged. There was a searing pain coming from my chest as I struggled to stand up with the support of my friends. I couldn’t comprehend it. The room, I could smell the rain. 

“Ichi-chan! You alright?!”

Something was poking me. My mouth was dry. My vision slurred. His face, I couldn't quite remember what it looked like. His face… he was panicked. I was sure he was panicked; I believe in his innocence. It… hurts……

“H-hey… Ichinose-san, are you okay?”

I nodded. I didn’t know where I was looking. “Hoshinomiya-sensei… did say that he was acting erratically, right? I’m sure he was just really panicked.”

“No, that doesn’t excuse… this!” Mako-chan retorted, hands still tightly hugging me. “At least ask for an apology or something!”

I sighed. “When he wakes up, I’ll ask him for a proper explanation…” I affirmed to comfort her, before softening my voice. “…and in the meantime, can you please keep this a secret?” 

“Ichinose, why?” Her voice was quiet and serious. I gazed into her sapphire eyes; my distorted reflection. They were strained, confused and nervous all the same.

“Please… I don’t want him to get ostracized.”

There was a hesitation. A slight clench of the jaw as if in quiet refusal. And then the rebellion dulled as a new kind of fury took over. 

“Fine,” she relents. “I won’t tell anyone. Because you’re my friend. But you better know what you’re doing, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Mako, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be fine. I’m fine,” I reassured with greater strength. Shiranami stood quietly, looking at her for reassurance. I smiled warmly, attempting to wash their worries away. 

My… how did things get here? I glanced out the window, observing the nigh-setting sun. Oh, nice it would be to return to my bed without worries.

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I combed my hair one final time before stepping back from my bathroom mirror. Perfect! There was no strand out of place. I once again double-checked that my uniform was sharp and neat without creases, then set out to grab my belongings. The high school I’m going to… you’ve undoubtedly heard of it somewhere, it’s ANHS! Eek! I’m just too nervous! As a government-funded high school for certified ‘elites’, I’m unsure as to how I’ll compare. I took in a few deep breaths. Don’t you worry, Honami! You’ll do great! Yea yea! Hell yea! I punched the air in a comical fashion. Of course, I didn’t forget to conceal a little parcel in my shoulder bag.

“Ichi nee-san~! Are you being schizophrenic again~?” my darling sister teased me, to which I laughed embarrassedly. My cheeks heated up a little and I brushed a strand of my hair to the right. I was caught off guard, though I still gazed at her lovingly. Yu…kari… why? I couldn't help but feel that her smile seemed a little off-kilter. 

“Aren’t you gonna say good morning to your dear sister?” I joked back, smiling widely with grave eyes. “I’m awfully hurt.”

“Hmph!” she pouted. “Good morning big sis!”

“Aw, thanks! Morning to you too!”

“Augh, enough yapping. What’s cooking?”

I had to chuckle a little at her odd choice of words. I’m glad she's started to spend more time with friends. And soon, there would be no doubt she could be comfortable enough to… well, I’m sure she would. I paused, she would undoubtedly find her way through school; her own unique tread on the path that is life and…

Pressing these odd thoughts aside, I waltzed into the kitchen to prepare our meal, quickly losing myself in this mechanized process. The shoulder bag was placed on a chair. Eggs were taken from the small refrigerator and placed onto the older, wooden cutting board along with a small, ceramic bowl. I opened the small cupboard next to the stove, getting out a bottle of mirin, soy sauce, and salt and pepper. 

Pausing, I decided to use some daikon to lighten the dish. The hinoki was plentiful in knife scars—a little carved too within the center, yet it still seemed to glow. It was still so dependable. I traced my finger along the textured indents, sighing. I needed to focus. Crkk! I gently tapped the eggs along the edge, snapping them cleanly in half and tossing the shells accurately into the wastebasket. As I was about to crack a second egg, there was a slight shifting sound coming from behind. I didn’t have to glance back to know what was happening, and internally, I sighed.

“You know, Yukari, you didn’t have to wake up so early for me,” I began quietly. “I really appreciate it.”

I quickly shifted my eyes to the right, gleaning her expression from my periphery. She guiltily looked away.

“Yeah. Well, the food’s… nicer when it’s the most freshly cooked.”

“Aww, Kari-chan~,” I gently smiled again. “I’m truly glad.”

Yukari simply sighed.

Crkk! Crkk! I resumed working on breakfast. I grabbed a pair of chopsticks, my wrist shifting my hand into a rapid whirling blur, spiraling the eggs into a whirlpool, moving just quick enough that it wouldn’t overflow the bowl. Just as it was thoroughly mixed together into an orange-gold liquid, I flavored it with a trace amount of mirin and soy sauce along with salt, then turned the flame on and added a slight drizzle of oil. First, I flicked a few drops of the egg onto the heated rectangular pan to check the temperature. As it began to set, I poured a thin layer, evenly spread. There was a calming crackling as I set to work, deftly wielding the chopsticks in swift routine motions. 

There was something trance-like to the process, like I was forgetting myself within it. As the pan came into focus, the egg had been nearly folded into a roll. I delicately removed it from the pan, slicing it into smaller squares. After wiping the knife, I set to dicing up half of the small daikon on the cutting board. And with that, breakfast was accomplished. It came too quickly, that was for sure.

I approached the dining table, setting the plate of tamagoyaki on a small knitted mat. It was surprisingly quiet. Then I glanced across the table and saw an absolutely adorable scene. Yukari—! Her head laid softly, using her elbow as a pillow, her long, unruly hair used as a thin blanket. I noticed her peaceful composure, and her steady, rhythmic breathing. I gently stepped to prepare our plates and chopsticks, tiptoeing to her position to wake her up.

“Eek! Honami!” my sister suddenly woke up just as I was about to tap her on the shoulder. She jolted upright. “Why does it look like you were about to touch me?!” Yukari… I shook my head and simply smiled awkwardly at the remark.

“You don’t want your breakfast to get cold, right? Eat up.”

“Well, I—okay.”

“Itadakimasu!!” I spoke with slight conviction.

“Itadakimasu.”

Sitting down on a chair to her right and removing my shoulder bag, I loaded my squares of tamagoyaki with the diced daikon radish and eventually decided to garnish it further with some bonito flakes. The egg had a slightly crunchy exterior, but the inside was soft and rich. The diced daikon gave a fresh, zingy crunch and the bonito provided a smoky umami quality to the dish. I let my tongue soak in the flavor before swallowing it down. My gaze landed on Yukari, who had begun moving at a sluggish pace, her face was more brittle than ever before—her hands stiff.

“Kari, what’s wrong?” That was all that came out.

Yukari huffed, pursing her lips to prevent them from bending. Yet her whole body seemed to tremble. I could only stare helplessly in silence as I awaited an inevitable outcome. 

“What's wrong? This’ll be the last Okhonamiyaki we’ll have together. What's wrong?!” Kari voiced firmly, cracking a little at the end.

“I…” The words were stuck. I could only swallow and grab her smaller hands into mine. “Yukari… it’s all going to be fine.” That was all that came out. Why was it so hard?

“You-you’re going to be gone for three whole years,” Yukari spoke through tears, her tortured voice a taut string, “a-and I’m going to miss you.”

“No, Yukari. You might be doubtful, but I know you’re an incredibly exceptional girl and I know you can do it.” That was all that came out. She burrowed into my warm chest, grabbing onto me for dear life. “Shhh…” I whispered quietly, petting her head as I did. The same process all over again. 

Yukari took several deep breaths, attempting to stabilize herself. Her grip gradually loosened; my body felt a slight chill when she slowly removed herself from our embrace. 

“Yukari, how about this,” I whispered. I took the shoulder bag set next to my chair, bringing out a small, wrapped present. “I… was going to leave this when I left but…you can have it right now.” I shook it gently, the box’s contents ricocheting. She nodded slowly, interest piqued. “But you have to promise me you’ll open this with Mom, okay?”

She made a blegh sound, a little annoyed, but she nodded. I heaved a sigh. This fateful day, why is it so hard to let go? 

“You make sure to take good care of yourself, okay? I’ve prepared some batches of Okhonamiyaki, so when you’re tired or lazy, or down, just heat one up, alright?”

“Alright,” she sniffed, trying to wipe the tears off her face. Our voices were quieter than ever. 

“Another hug?” I offered delicately.

There was no need for an answer.

;;;

The sun had yet to rise, leaving the grey sky a hazy mass of clouds. The dainty trees were bejeweled in tiny beads of crystal dew, stringing the bare branches like a pearl necklace. The dwellings shut off their lights; closing their blinds to sit cozily in the shadows. Some yellow lights remained open, blurry morning stars. Despite the early hour, several cars roamed quietly about the streets, and I was able to attain a ride to the Shinkansen station. 

A multitude of salary workers —clad in their working attire and holding their briefcases— walked to and fro the long hallways. Several tourists brushed past, dragging their stuffed suitcases. My head was afloat as I mindlessly followed a few travelers to my designated train. I had already prepared my digital QR Code for boarding, clutching onto my handbag as I got to my seat. The clean white light brilliantly illuminated the carpeted, blue seats, yet my eyes struggled to put them into focus.

The train cabin I was designated was sparsely occupied, each step taken a magnified echo. I got myself comfortable, a cozy leather coat wrapped around my uniform and a blue blanket snuggling my legs. The headrest would do for a pillow. 

“Thank you for riding this train. This is a Tokaido Shinkansen line bound for Tokyo.… The next station is: Kyoto Station.”

I tiredly zoned out the rest of the announcements. With nothing but thoughts to entertain myself, I twiddled my fingers. The final farewell with Yukari…it kept echoing in my head. My hands balled into fists. Why? I knew what my words would bring; they were far too insufficient. Too many things at once fought to reach out of my mouth. I gazed out the window. The train quickly took off, leaving the landscape a fleeting blur. Ribbons of light filtered in through the various buildings and trees, the sky bleeding red. Our embrace…the sudden coldness at its end. The jacket; the blanket. Huh, I chuckled sardonically at the thought. Yukari’s right. 

Three years away from her and Okaasan. I had already known of the condition the moment I received the acceptance letter. Yet I hadn’t known what it truly entailed until today. Three entire years… I could only wish for a reunion filled with joy, and that my family would lead peaceful, happy lives along the way. Impulsively, I took out the photo of us hidden in a small pocket to the side of the bag. Of us–Yukari, Mom, and I– smiling ever so distantly into the absent lens. My chest began to tremble as I glanced at it once more, struggling to hide it again.

My eyelids began to flutter, and my breath slowed. The timid silence of the cabin subtly invited me to sleep. The first day at an academy of ‘Elites’ was sure to be arduous, huh? It would be best not to be too sleep-deprived. Yes, that made sense. As the thought cemented itself, I finally let go of my consciousness, allowing my body to rest.

“We will soon be reaching Tokyo Station, Tokyo Station.”

My eyes jerked wide open, and my posture abruptly straightened. As if by instinct, I immediately checked the time using my phone. It was 7:17 AM, a little more than an hour before the start of school, and the beginning of the school year. Phew…I’ve had way too many close calls in the past with accidental drowsiness despite my self-discipline. Sleep was often like a cunning little thief, scamming you of your time, leaving you scrambling to discover how much time you had lost. I would be getting off in just a few minutes, what luck! 

I quickly double-checked my belongings and folded the blanket. The sun had already risen, and the sky was now a faded blue-grey. The cabin, too, was noticeably more crowded than at the start. The once vacant aisle seat had now been occupied by a tired salaryman, browsing something on his phone. 

It didn’t take long for the train to come to a temporary stop. The aisle was quickly filled with bustling salary workers, travelers, and students impatient to get out and go about their busy schedules. The announcer welcomed the new guests. The surroundings of chaotic sounds and shouting; the day had begun and the passengers were eager to get it done with. From within the crowd, I found little snippets of red, were they also going to ANHS? I typed in an address given by the school into the GPS app and proceeded to a nearby bus station where I would be sent straight to the school’s bridgeway. Phew! What a journey.

The crowd dispersed as I got further from the Shinkansen station. A tall pole with a bus symbol on top marked the spot. The bus stop had a small overhang to allow respite on rainy days, as well as a long, metal bench next to a map. I sat down on the cold bench, refixing my school uniform so it looked presentable. Despite the sun in the sky, there was a lingering chill. The bow was straightened, the suit flattened out of its wrinkles, and I pulled my socks up for additional warmth. A few minutes later, I spotted a girl with the same uniform arriving, a slightly larger purple bag slung around her shoulder, slightly bumping her hips as she walked toward the stop. As she got to the pole, she shifted her weight to her left leg, busy scrolling on her phone. I glanced at her hair: it was a unique shade of ultramarine, and peculiarly, a pale pastel shade of blue underneath.

“Whoa! I love your hair!” I complimented, garnering her attention. “How’d you get it to look like that?”

The girl glanced at me and smiled sheepishly. “Thanks! I actually got it done at a salon near here. I just saw someone with this two-tone trend online and thought I’d get my hair dyed like that on a whim. I assume you’re also waiting for the 216?”

“Mmm-hmm. Also, as we’ll be schoolmates, what’s your name? Mine is Ichinose Honami!” I enthusiastically introduced myself. I mean, when you’re likely to talk to them multiple times throughout the course of several years, why wouldn’t you give them your name? Besides, this would serve as a great opportunity to create connections.

“Ooh! You’re a swift one, huh?” The girl giggled. “I’m Amikura Mako, but call me Mako-chan.”

“Nice!” I peeped as I matched her energy. “Feeling nervous? ’Cause I sure am.”

“Heh, who wouldn’t be?”

“I know right? There are so many intimidating rumors floating around on the web. Ooh!” Energy zapped into my brain, and my voice was eager. “Apparently, this one time a group of students purposefully conspired against this other student, causing them to get expelled.”

I had come across this rumor during my rabbit hole web dive after receiving the acceptance letter. It made me incredibly uncomfortable. Why would the school establish an environment that would only serve to distract students from their self-improvement? I would argue that this wasn’t ‘nurture’ at all. If Japan’s ‘future leaders’ could only rise through the sabotage of others, this would only lead to a society of stagnation, corruption, and infighting. Additionally, such competition would only make ANHS no different from other elite schools. I anticipated the answer, hoping that she agreed with my points. 

“Sheesh. Talk about eliminating competition, am I right? Although, these rumors are likely to drum up mystique for the school. Like what kind of ‘advanced nurturing’ is that?”

I secretly heaved a sigh of relief. If the three separate documentaries I watched debunking the rumors weren’t enough, her answer wiped away 99.9% of my anxieties.

“Yeah, it just seems so… redundant, given the speculated student-to-teacher ratio. What could students possibly gain from troubling themselves and others?”

We shared more of our hopes and expectations of ANHS for a short while, anxious to see if they were to be met or shattered. I was hoping for some specialized studio or area based on knitting and fashion; it would make for a great place to spend my free time. The bus eventually arrived and we paused our conversation to show our ANHS verification which allowed us a free ride. The seats were partially filled with salary workers, though more than half were wearing the identifiable ANHS uniform. Mako-chan and I were luckily able to find ourselves a pair of seats. 

“Some people say half of the funding must come from the admissions fee revenue alone.  That’s why keeping the intrigue and ‘elite’-ness is so important: to get people from all over to apply,” Mako-chan spoke dramatically as if speaking of a great taboo. “Hehe, allegedly of course, I’m too young to go to court for this.”

“Hmm…” I carefully considered her words. “I suppose some conspiracy theorists are distrustful of the government. But compared to other private high schools, the cost is quite tame. Though, if we are going down this rabbit hole, I truly wonder how much money the government loses from this whole school.”

“Yeah, and, I mean what if it’s all to hide stuff? This school is all Kijima after all.”

I was a bit lost in thought. Amikura Mako was indeed incredibly enthusiastic about the political workings of Japan, but I wondered if she truly believed the theories herself or simply wanted them to be true for the simple feeling of thrill and injustice. No, I was overthinking things far too much. I mean, engaging in gossip is perfectly normal.

“Meh, this is probably too political, my bad,” she sheepishly replied. Her voice tapered off at the end and she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She came off as a little ashamed. She was likely afraid she came off as too weird or someone who was inconsiderate of others’ thoughts.

“No, you’re good. I was just a little lost in thought,” I smiled reassuringly at her. “The school administration was bold in choosing someone so convincing in their theories, eh? You’d make a great public speaker.”

The 216 finished its ‘civilian’ route, slowly making its way to a police-guarded area. The ride was peaceful for the most part–other than a delay caused by several curious people trying to bombard the windows. The gates opened to a bridge leading to the fated island. The silhouette of the buildings made it seem like a distant city. The chatter faded to a minimum as we collectively held our breaths, waiting timidly for what awaited beyond the gates. Our eyes were welcomed by the vast, glimmering mass of water. We watched as we detached further and further from the mainland. So this is it.

After going through another set of gates welcoming us onto the exclusive island, we got off.

“Hold on, how about we snap a quick picture before our phones are turned in?” I suggested.

“Aight, bet.”

Of course, since we were too caught up in admiring the school campus while on the bridge, this place would have to suffice. Mako held up a peace sign and made a ‘nonchalant’ smirk on her face. I stuck my tongue out and held the phone out to take a selfie. The first of many commemorations of our school life here, I’m sure.

Right beyond the entrance gate lay an admissions sort of building. Through several stations, workers enforced security, much like at an airport. However, due to our earlier arrival of about thirty minutes before start time, not many workers were stationed. I subconsciously clutched my shoulder bag tighter. They would probably allow the family picture, right? Okay, likely not. Well, definitely not. The brown-haired brown-eyed guy in front of us seemed to be arguing with a staff worker over some ‘magazines’, moderately hidden within supposed boxes of art supplies. So this security check is incredibly thorough. I swallowed, readjusting my bow and patting my hair down. 

“H-heh. To three whole years without my ignorant brother’s incessant yapping,” Amikura Mako chuckled nervously. She was pulling on a few strands of her hair. To give her a silent support, I squeezed her hand, to which she squeezed back.

“You know the procedure. Bags here, hands up.”

Two other workers came to us and scanned our bodies as the original professionally ransacked our belongings. When no beeping sound came, they left to loiter around the area. All pockets were felt for and all objects were taken out to be inspected. After being satisfied, the worker put our belongings back with the exception of our phones, and the photo.

“Of course, according to established rules, these must be confiscated. But you needn’t worry, these will be under the safekeeping of the ANHS staff. These will be returned when you leave this school. You guys understand, of course?” The worker’s eyes briefly flicked to the photo they held before returning to stare into our souls. I simply nodded, and then another time with more conviction. “School-certified phones are distributed in the room to the left, you’ll get more information from there. Be sure to present your verification. Have a pleasant day.”

“Damn, that many steps just to get in. The exclusivity is real,” Mako tiredly remarked.

After inputting the basic preference info, the phone quickly got set up, with a facial ID system and all. I noticed that there was indeed an app store, but also a handful of pre-installed apps. According to the staff, our school information should be stored within… found it!... the [ANHS Community]. I’m curious as to when it was implemented, as the school’s prestigious 50-year history came before the rise of mobile apps. But that’s a thought for another time. As I got to the main page, I quickly found a tiny circle that seemed to be a default profile photo and tapped it. In eloquent font, <ICHINOSE HONAMI> was displayed front and center. Student ID… S01T004620… Ah! And class… Class 1B “You were placed here under careful consideration…” yada yada…… ->>> Homeroom Teacher: Hoshinomiya Chie. I noticed that most features within the app were blocked out, perhaps these would be unlocked later? I was also unable to open up any other apps. 

“Hey, Mako-chan, which class are you in? It seems I’m in class 1B.”

She simply gawked at me as if my hair had suddenly begun to fall off my head. “What. Are. The. Chances? Me too! Damn. What a funny coincidence,” she said as she shook her head. “Let’s have a fun three years together, yeah?”

Hand in hand, we headed toward the auditorium.

;;;~~~

The Entrance Ceremony was quite standard for such an odd school. The chairman and staff simply introduced their goals and missions, talking about their wish to nurture the students and the usual spiel about integrity. It wasn’t bad by any means, it just became something mundane, I suppose. Okayyyy… I eventually came to hate them. The homeroom teachers for the first years came out and gave their introductions; it was plainly rehearsed. Damn. I guess the main reason was because I was expecting something super cool to come out of it. Big mistake. I was incredibly surprised that Ichinose-chan managed to look focused and aware the whole way through. Thank God there wasn’t any song we had to hum to, it’d just ruin ANHS’s image in my head as a super elite and secretive school. Thinking about how Chairman Sakayanagi might be using this institution as a cover for a money laundering scheme did help prevent me from falling asleep, so I at least didn't embarrass myself. Nice. When Ichi-chan tapped my shoulder to tell me it was over, I had to bite my tongue so as to not scream in happiness. Fueled by sudden adrenaline, I grabbed her hand, bouncily dragging her to our classroom. Our shoes chaotically pressed against the floor as we loudly screamed and ran until we saw the door. Ichin placed her finger on her lips to shush me. 

“D’you think there’s anyone inside yet?” she whispered, glancing at the door.

“I mean… this is a government school. There’s probably at least someone watching us, right? Hehe.”

“Gah! That’s a little creepy,” she giggled.

Well, there’s only one way to find out. I put my hand on the cold handle, quickly turning it and pushing.

“Hello~? Anyone here?”

I did a quick scan. Our classroom was pretty much vacant. Expensive-looking, lacquered seats and desks were laid out in a formation of eight by five. There was a smart screen at the front of the room, complete with a set of smart pens and pointers. A dark, wooden podium stood in front. The air was clean with a bit of a lavender scent, lit by incredibly bright lights. Across from our place in the doorway, however, were massive glass windows, providing an amazing view of a courtyard outside. Sakura trees were in full bloom; tiny petals flitted and flew out with the wind. Our steps echoed loudly against the metal floor as we entered the room. Then there was a slight noise. Ack! He caught me by surprise. 

A boy was sitting at a desk near the windows, reading a paper brochure. Did this guy really ditch the entrance ceremony?! Damn genius. He looked up when he heard us, making himself look more presentable as he did. He carved his bushy purple hair back and slightly smiled at us. 

“Hello.” His voice was deep and soft; incredibly to the point.

I guess he was a more reserved kind of guy. We both smiled and waved back and got about settling in. I spotted a placard with my name at a more central seat and set my bag down. It seemed each desk came with all the necessary materials for study here. Then I noticed that Ichinose walked to look at what he was observing. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt, but what are you looking at?” she asked gently from a few feet away.

“Oh, just the map of the facilities. I’m trying to get a general idea of the school.”

“The school’s massive, isn’t it? I can’t believe all of this stuff is just within the main educational area.”

Purple-hair seemed to start thinking about something, then chuckled sheepishly. “Oh, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Kanzaki Ryuji.”

“Nice to meet you Kanzaki-kun. I’m Ichinose Honami, and this is…” She reached her arm toward me.

“Amikura Mako-chan!” I peeped in. And you were at the Entrance Ceremony, right? Okay, I’m not gonna ask that, but I found it peculiar. Anyway, I shifted my focus onto the map. There was a building designated for each year, each with four classrooms. And then there was the courtyard… and that nearby auditorium… hmmm…

“The transportation seems to emulate public transportation within the city…” Ichinose murmured. “ But why make these places so far away from each other in the first place?”

Kanzaki hummed, placing one of his hands on his chin. “It’s to make it more realistic, right? So that the students here don’t get too comfortable,” he mused.

“At least some restaurants and the cafeteria are nearby…”

As we began to review the local food options, I heard more and more students entering the classroom. We closed our mini-discussion and went to take a look at our future acquaintances. Ichi-chan was all smiles, greeting some of them, and she guided me through different idle conversations. Soon enough, most seats were filled and we went to our seats. I wonder if it’s like this in other classes: a little stiff yet hopeful.

~~~

The ride on the bus was –how should I describe it?– mostly tranquil. I couldn't care less about the debacle between the old lady and the rambunctious teenager —I zoned it out as I was immersed in my reading. Yet somehow, an even worse disruption occurred shortly in the midst of the debate: a student sitting directly behind me had abruptly begun to throw up. Someone was screaming for him, yet no one thought to move to help him. The whole thing was pitiful. It was likely the stress of attending elite institutions such as this school, but I found these actions absolutely foolish. Each student had received the acceptance letter and verification weeks prior, so if he believed himself inadequate, why did he not reject it? Urk. If he knew he couldn’t handle it, why did he attend the bus in the first place? Never the matter. As long as he isn’t assigned to my class or drops out, I would be fine.

Then, the individualist boy entered the room. A horrid coincidence. I resolved to completely ignore him. But there exists another major problem: the outrageously indelible seatmate that I had been assigned. He’s absolutely plain: his eyes are completely absent of any semblance of life or personality. Need I say more? Anyone with a sufficient degree of sanity would hate him too. His stare on the bus was excruciatingly uncomfortable; it was like having a corpse stare into your soul. 

“Hey, Horikita? Horikita are you here?”

His speech itself is uncouth and below my social expectations, absolving the last reasons to ever acquaint myself with someone such as him. He introduces himself to appear friendly, yet makes himself ever the more dull. He attempts to act ‘sassy’ yet fails miserably. I even told him my name to get him to go away. 

“Ho-ri-ki-taaaaaa…”

I strengthened my grip on my book, my fingers threatening to tear the fine pages. I can’t believe he was now tapping my shoulder. I honestly can’t discern his intentions. My current understanding of him is that he is trying and failing to play the jester, wait… Is it because I have no friends and therefore can't laugh about his social ineptitude to other people? This guy… My body began to tremble.

“Yes. Ayanokouji-kun? You were calling for me?” I annoyedly answered his pestering, setting my book down. Of course, I answered him politely with complete honorifics, aligning with the expectations I hold for myself. 

“I was just curious about your thoughts on the classroom,” he spoke, without any sort of tonal variation at all.

I swallowed, subconsciously clenching my jaw. “It’s nice. It’s well-equipped as expected from an acclaimed institution.” I paused. “What I also find nice is the freedom to read books without interruption.”

Without missing a beat, he asked me another question: “Well, what are your thoughts on these desks then? Is there something that makes them better than others?”

“…” My mouth opened slightly before shutting.

This… buffoon! Was he retarded?! I sighed internally. It seems I must employ a more… straightforward method. I held his blank stare, arms delicately getting the additional notebooks from my bookbag. With practiced ease, I pulled out a compass, its point as sharp as ever, gleaming in the fluorescent white light. Despite conserving his mask of indifference, I noticed that Ayanokouji-kun shook his head slightly. Yeah, do you understand it now? I took out a standardized 100-page notebook and set it on my desk, my gaze sharpening. I raised my arm, fist tight, and—

BAAAAMMMM!!!! I slammed it straight down with vigor, pulling it out moments later. Striking as a bullet, the point had successfully breached through the entire notebook, including the cover page and the cardboard end. The desk rocked, the sound alerting everyone in the classroom as they stared shocked at my actions. As I removed the notebook, there was a tiny indent within the desk. 

“I would believe that these desks are quite sturdy.”

“Ahhaha… Me too,” Ayanokouji-kun mumbled, knowingly concluding the conversation. His eyes flickered to the window as his body shifted away from me. A conversation concluded; a mission succeeded. There was a wave of whispers flowing through the room. But I couldn’t care less. Satisfied, I resumed reading.

The door opened forcefully as our homeroom teacher walked in carrying several folders. She was tall and held a perfectly formal posture, complemented with square shoulders and a head held high. Her hair was meticulously combed back into a high ponytail. Her business attire was without flaw. With each clack of her heels, the room gradually silenced itself, a smorzando voce. My… immature classmates frenzied into their chairs, imitating a paper-thin semblance of discipline. As someone doomed with the wide vantage point of the classroom, I could spot a majority of crooked backs and slanted shoulders. Huffing, I glanced to see if our teacher, Chabashira-sensei, would make any remarks. 

~~~

“Yoo~ my little munchkins…” my homeroom teacher, Hoshinomiya-sensei, cooed as she waltzed in. Her voice was high and silky, yet lilted at the end. Her brown hair was vibrant and wavy, bouncing along her shoulders as she walked tilted from side to side, audaciously swaying her hips. Her vibrant pink shirt and aquamarine yoga pants clung tightly to her skin, accentuating her thin yet… well-endowed figure. “Welcome to ANHS…” she drawled, her voice thin like a taut string. “Anyway~... Let’s get to business!”

Hoshinomiya-sensei rubbed her eyes and yawned, seemingly unbothered by the unprofessionalism.

Fortunately, my seat was in the same row as Mako-chan –only a few seats to the left. As Hoshinomiya-sensei casually made her way to the podium, we leaned forward and stared at each other. Her eyes flickered onto her figure for a brief second, then returned to me. Her left hand held an imaginary cup as her right pretended to stab at the top. A drink? As the ‘bottle’ was opened, she dunked it into her mouth. Death?! Oh, wait. Addiction?! My eyes couldn’t help but widen, though hopefully not in too comical a fashion. I gave her a side-eye. This, of course, was a far-reaching assumption. A twin-bunned girl sitting in between us seemed to catch us in our telepathy session, smirking and agreeing with Mako-chan’s assessment through a confident nod. 

“Ahem~ dear students,” Hoshinomiya enunciated, grasping our attention back to the front with a crisp snap of the hand. “It’s time to pay attention now~.” She paused as if making sure everyone was paying attention. With a loud and clear voice, she continued. “Alright cuties, I’m Hoshinomiya-sensei, your homeroom teacher for the next three years, as you won’t change classes between grades.” Her eyes narrowed and she smirked, as if holding something back. “ And now, you're probably wondering: What makes ANHS so… ‘elite’?” Her voice got quieter, fiercer, daring. She paced in tiny, slow, steps, her eyes scanning across the room. “ Well, I’ll tell ya. On this immersive island, students’ abilities are nurtured and put to the test without outside interference or distractions, while facilitating powerful bonds between students. But most importantly… ”

“The S-system.” She snapped her fingers in an over-dramatic fashion. “In this system, private points are used as currency, 1 yen for 1 point. You can use these private points to purchase clothing, food, jewelry, games, entertainment, experiences… anything. Anything on campus is available for purchase. Your allowance of private points is allotted on the first day of each month. The mechanism of purchase should be no different from dPay or Suica, so I shouldn’t need to elaborate more. And further on allowance… there should already be 100,000 points allocated to your accounts.”

My brain nearly short-circuited. There was a collective gasp of shock from my classmates. I glanced again at my seatmates as if confirming my ears. 100,000 yen? Of course, we still had to spend points to buy clothing and certain necessities, but 100,000 yen? I couldn’t exactly wrap my head around the number. 

“Shocked by the amount of points you’ve been given?” Hoshinomiya-sensei continued as the initial adrenaline died down, though I was still a little dazed. “This school evaluates its students’ talents. Everyone here has passed the entrance examination which itself speaks to your value and potential. The amount you’ve received reflects the evaluation of your worth. You can use your points without restraint. In the event you don’t want to spend your points, you may transfer them to someone else. However, extorting points from your peers is not allowed. This school monitors bullying very carefully.”

“Are there any questions?” The teacher paused again, doing another scan around the classroom. I was still trying to process the whole speech, trying to make sense of it. “You’re free to ask more questions later during my office hours, but I’ll also be going over other important information.” Akin to a rehearsed list, she rattled on. “Firstly, your educational materials have been organized on each of your desks. You may do with them however you please, just keep in mind that it costs points to replace. Popular demand calls for a short period of schola brevis. The school administration recognizes that several students may have taken long journeys to get here. For the first week, classes will remain brief to allow students to settle on campus. Secondly, your dorm rooms have been assigned and prepared. You can expect the essential toiletries and furniture located within. You can expect further rules and information to be found within the brochures displayed on the outside stand or within the [ANHS Community] application. Be sure to attend the Entrance Ceremony one hour from now, but for the rest of the day, you are free to do as you please.” 

That was… quite a bit to unpack. I quickly took out a notebook and pen, beginning to take some notes down. Future speeches wouldn’t be so hard to follow, right? But since there’s an abundance of free time between classmates now… it would be best to get to know everyone. Especially since we would be companions for three whole years. After messily scribbling two or so sentences, I stood up, attempting to foster a sense of community within the class. As I glanced across the room, I noticed an empty seat near the back-left corner. Just as Hoshinomiya-sensei was about to pack up and leave, I called out to her.

“Please, sensei, hold on.” She looked at me casually, with the same attitude she had as she walked in. It was a lazier and warier gaze than when she was giving her speech. She silently nodded and smiled, allowing me to ask my question. “I just stood up and noticed that one of the desks was unoccupied. Is someone not here?”

My classmates began to acknowledge the empty seat. Her eyes widened as a kind of realization dawned on her. “Oh~ yeah~, one of your classmates, Takahashi Hito, had an accident while on the way here. He’s currently knocked out,” she casually revealed, as if dismissing his existence. I reflected on her statements and demeanor. Was she the kind of person to be negligent of such key details? She didn’t forget to tell the class any other important information, right? I simply maintained my smile.

“Uhm, he’ll be alright, yes? It’s nothing severe?”

“Yeah, no. He’ll be fine,” Hoshinomiya-sensei shut me down. “He may be a little erratic, but he’s fine.” As if with a flick of a switch, her personality became bubbly. “Alright darlings, goodbye~!” She jounced out the door with a final playful wink at us. Though I couldn’t help but notice, she glanced particularly toward the back-left corner of the room, an area with a male majority. (?!) 

“Yoo~ everyone!” I projected my voice across the entire room while maintaining a gentle and eager tone. “Since we’ve the rest of the hour to ourselves before the ceremony, I think it’d be a great time to introduce ourselves. I’ll start it off. Of course, I think some of you guys have already met me before homeroom, but I’m Ichinose Honami! I take a little extra interest in knitting and gastronomy. But what I’m most excited about is getting to meet you guys! Let’s have a great 3 years together!”

I sat down, passing the stick on. The girl sitting at the front-left corner shyly stood up, her brown hair clean and straight. Her brown eyes were flitting sporadically around the room as she swallowed and prepared to speak. “Uhm… hi, I’m Ninomiya Yui, nice to meet you guys. I guess I’m sorta into folding small origami creatures and cute chibi stuff in general. And yeah, hi.” She sat down quickly and seeing her tightened jaw, I supposed she was a little sheepish at the reception. I began clapping, and it quickly spread around the room. 

And with haste, students eagerly began introducing themselves. Shibata Sou with his soccer ambitions… Tsube Hitomi with her aspirations for art… Haruto Yonezu and his karate… I smiled, this was going incredibly smoothly. It was surprisingly easier than I thought… as if everyone here were made to fit together. We all had differing hobbies, like playing action MMOs, gardening, writing, and all that stuff. But the core of our characters, well, was that we were eager and friendly. Coincidence? Probably. And I’m not complaining. I’m not as eager of a conspiracy theorist as Mako-chan after all.

;;;~~~

I didn’t attend the Opening Ceremony. Besides, I’ve attended one at each new hurdle and found the mundane repetition in each, so I found no reason to participate– even if this was an incredibly elite school. And it seemed my hunch was right. As one joyfully hyper girl busted through the door dragging her friend along, I was almost certain it was to escape the boredom that was the ceremony. No shame on the institution of course. It’s just grown to be a drag. But this fact also heightened my suspicions. This acclaimed school, known far and wide for creating the ‘new leaders’ of Japan, had seemed far too normal. I just had to look over the brochure to double-check. Sure, there was an abundance of stores and high-quality equipment located on campus, but why was this school still so exclusive? My brain quickly formulated an excuse: Its lack of tuition provides a lucrative opportunity for those of lower income to attend and receive the education and equipment likely found within expensive private schools. I suppose this made sense. However, I’m not the only one of higher income attending this school. I met Sakayanagi on the way here. Koenji’s attendance spread quickly through word of mouth. Horikita is the student council president. Three children from relatively large business corporations have attended. There must be something I’m missing. Something that’s concealed. 

I’m not deaf to the rumors of expulsion either. There must be some mechanic of competition within that is supposedly causing all of this. There must be a motive; incentive for the crime. Was it pressure? What facilitates it? 

Leaving all the speculation aside, I checked another piece of evidence: the school-certified phones. The only usable app on my phone is [ANHS Community], and only the profile tab has been available. I assumed they would eventually reveal themselves soon after the ceremony. The sporadically energized girl, whom I got to know as Amikura Mako-san, and her kind pink-haired companion, Ichinose Honami-san were quite eager to create conversation with me. Neither of them struck me as incredibly academically-oriented. What’s the criteria for admission? They likely made up for it through their sociability; very welcoming in conversation. Honestly, I was a little embarrassed by my subpar social skills compared to them. 

Now onto the S-System itself. From the moment she walked in, Hoshinomiya Chie-sensei seemed like a ‘lax’ teacher, even a tad drunk. She bombarded us with vital information just as quickly as she waltzed away. Like I’m sorry, but what’s up with that? Her voice was incredibly dynamic and pronounced, drawing in the attention of all the class. Her feet even paced around, as if cornering a witness. Her voice was composed and steady throughout the whole course of her speech. And my ears clung onto this statement: “Now what makes this school so elite?” Sure, it may be arbitrary wording, but giving students an allowance just makes the school unique, not superior. She states that it is dependent on our merit, evaluated through our admissions into this institution. But this surely can’t be permanent, right? But when is the next examination? Next year? The next series of tests? I noted these within my brain. 

It seems Ichinose-san is also keen on these general ideas, as I noticed she wrote down a few notes. I’m glad I’m not the only one having suspicions. She seems incredibly able, not only socially, but in making observations and logical reasoning. After all, the key is in questioning everything. If one can’t find concrete evidence to disprove it, I think one should dig further. The school has the burden of proof to prove me wrong, right?

I was planning on further exploring the school with a few of my classmates, but Ichinose-san, the current de-facto leader of the class suggested we all go to the Opening Ceremony together for class spirit. Of course, there was no reason to disagree. In fact, I was slightly worried that the class would be all rigid in solemn silence. And… was I expecting something exceptional? Not really.

“Another one done and dusted~,” Shibata-kun sighed next to me, relieved. “I was hoping whatever popular vote thing here would vote to cancel this.”

“Wholeheartedly agree… but anything for class spirit, am I right?” I tried to joke.

“Haaa… though Ichinose’s truly amazing. She’s like a people magnet.”

“I suppose so. I doubt any other class is as unified as ours, thanks to her.” I paused then diverted to another topic. “Anyway, don’t you think our home room sensei is a little weird? I would probably categorize her as an Ichinose who peaked in high school and then got addicted to drugs.”

“Damn, dude! Ain’t gotta do her like that,” he chuckled. “But she was kinda inconsistent. Done glazed us, speed ran through rules, then forgot to tell us that one of our classmates got into trouble until Ichinose pointed it out.”

Ichinose-san and her group of female friends were trailing ahead of us on our path to the cafeteria. She waved her hand with a joyous expression as she encouraged me and Shibata-kun to hurry up. 

As the sleek, lacquered double doors to the cafeteria had opened, we were hit with a wave of cacophonous noise. The moderately-large area was crowded with seniors savoring their lunches, as well as with a long line of people waiting to order. The tables were sleek and modern, likely made of some metal alloy. Large windows with simple grey frames —akin to the ones in the classroom— mounted two opposite walls. My classmates glanced around for an empty table, yet there were none to be found. That would be fine, then. But just what made this area so popular? I briskly walked to the ordering kiosks to glance at the menu. There were several options, all inspired from local Japanese cuisine. The most expensive meal set would cost 10,000 points—a [Delicacy Deluxe Platter Combo] with tempura, miso soup, freshly sautéed matsutake drizzled with sudachi, a small bowl of rice, a platter of a choice cut of either meat or seafood, and a wagashi dessert platter—while the cheapest option was a free vegetable meal set. One would definitely get more for their money, which could have explained the sheer amount of people in attendance. 

“The food here must be elite,” a classmate murmured.

“There doesn’t seem to be enough seating here…so should we try and find somewhere nearby?” a boy observed. “Some Palette Cafe should be near the school library. Also, I think I saw on the map tool that a Keyaki Mall was located a few kilometers from here.”

“Hmm…” Ichinose-san sighed. “Well there’s no point in keeping everyone in a single group here. I think it’s best if we all split up into groups, each heading to whichever place they wish to eat most. Any dissenting opinions?”

After reaching a consensus, our classmates split into mini-groups on whether to wait in line for the cafeteria, or go to a certain restaurant. 

“Let’s review these places too! To see which is best, yeah?” she added while shaking her phone. Our classmates eagerly agreed, setting off to find the best eats of ANHS.

The entrancing strawberry-blonde girl tapped me on the shoulder, signaling me to follow her. It appears that we simultaneously decided to stay. I noticed how she distinctly tightened her uniform, ensuring that no wrinkles would appear, and how she made her hair fuzzier. Her perfume still lingered, a welcoming citrus aroma that aroused attention. We came up to a senior, a fuller male with greasy brown hair and boring brown eyes. His uniform was loose and wrinkled, his sleeves getting slightly dirty as he began to dig into his meal. With each sip of the rich bone broth, he moaned and shivered. She quickly glanced at me, her jaw was a little tense.

“Err… excuse me senpai,” I initiated politely. “Since it’s my first time here, I was wondering which meal set you were having. You seem absolutely euphoric in having it.”

“Ahaha,” the upperclassman chuckled as if realizing his extreme display of pleasure. “My bad. It’s just the average meal set.”

“We’re really sorry for bothering,” Ichinose-san butted in. “But what’s the name for it? Is it the [Wakayama Ramen and Sashimi Combo]? As someone from near the area, I think I’ve recognized the ramen style correctly, haven’t I?” She questioned eagerly.

The upperclassman raised his eyebrows in surprise, but quickly furrowed them. “So you just came here to flex your gastronomy skills as well, huh? Well yah guessed wrong, bitch.” He drifted a glance at me, then at Ichinose-san for a lingering instance. He then resumed his attention to the bowl of ramen, not daring to even contain the charming girl within his periphery. As a male myself, I could see his invisible struggle.

Ichinose-san simply sighed in resignation, then peeped up. “Okay, then, I’ll just ask your friend over there!” she chirped happily. 

Before we even shifted our weight to begin walking, the adjacent senpai told us: “Yea, you don’t need to ask the same question again. It’s the alterable [Kansai Meal Set]. Don’t worry about him, he’s just going through some shit.”

“Thanks~!” She bowed her head.

The [Kansai Meal Set], on the lower end of the price spectrum, costs only 1,000 points.

“Err…Ichinose-san, you didn’t have to bring me here to do this little questioning. You know, I think all I did was unintentionally antagonize the senpai.”

“Teehee~” she scratched the side of head in a shameful manner. “I was getting a bit of cold feet, so I felt you should start it. I’m sorry if this was a little abrupt.”

“Oh, no worries.” I must have appeared to her as someone of stoicism or bravery, and as one of the first few people she talked to from the entry of ANHS, she must have placed some semblance of trust in me. My gaze lingered on her retreating figure, eager to reunite with her friends. She’s acting peculiarly.

“Oh, yea! Have fun with your investigation!”

One panoramic scan later, and not one bowl of succulent green vegetables and tofu platter were to be found. So why did the free meal set even exist in the first place? I doubted the answer could be found simply from investigating the area or without extensive interactions with others—something I’d prefer to avoid as I am thoroughly void of charisma. As I returned to my small group of male compatriots —Watanabe-san, Hamaguchi-san, and Shibata-san— they all stared at me with a sly gaze.

“What?” I deadpanned. 

…

“Whaddaya mean, what?” Shibata-san was the first to break the silence, lifting an eyebrow as he did so while smirking. “You sure nothing’s going on between you and Ichinose?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to hide. I’d definitely support it man,” Watanabe-san chimed in.

“Well, we discussed the campus before class, if that’s what you are asking; we are simply friends.”

“Mhm hmmm… okayyyyyy.”

They had not one iota of doubt about our ‘close’ relationship. 

“I’m telling the truth.”

“Yeah, we definitely believe you.”

I simply gave up with reasoning and sighed. 

;;;~~~

The bus came at noon, on the dot. Though it was surprising that we had to scan our phones—the fare was a single point. My newly acquainted friends and I jumped and giggled. Beginning with Minamikata-chan , we all tried to surf without grabbing onto anything as the vehicle drove across several bumps. Her loose twins buns jostled and hopped along with her strenuous effort to stay in balance within the aisle. I held a side conversation on which restaurant to go to within the mall, while also discussing our mornings and further elaborating on hobbies. Before long, the bus had arrived at our destination. Our group, an assortment of colorful hair and eager smiles, were ready to embrace an afternoon of shopping and integrating into our new, ‘elite’ lives. 

The sun was high as our spirits. The mall was essentially empty as our fellow upperclassmen were taking classes during our schola brevis. We scrambled to an aesthetic cafe, partaking in deli sandwiches and soups. Clothes were tried on and selected carefully, different toiletry brands were discussed and recommended. And finally, after all our necessities were bought, it was time to visit our dorms. Though I had a final task to complete: to welcome our classmate who had unfortunately missed the first day. Delicately selecting a small gift, I once again set out to the school. I smiled. After this, I would find solace in my bed, in my new friends and new hopes. My family… I would miss them dearly. But a selfish part of me hoped that kaa-san would be glad to see me so doused in prosperity. Yes. Watching the sunset from my window. Not a care in the world. How lovely.

.

.

.

Paradise, as a setting sun sets the sea ablaze with its crimson embrace. And within minutes, the sky is dark. Gone. Tomorrow will be a new day.

{CHAPTER 2} It’s All In The Appearance, I Suppose.

Do you believe in a God? …or to better word the question: do you believe in a higher entity or property that influences our lives? Do you believe in ideas such as luck or karma? It’s best to not care, at least through my experience, not caring made life easier. But when you’re stuck in a womb of darkness, a reeling mind, it’s hard not to think about why.

It was all a haze. I tried to move my hands, lift my head. Yet it was as if my mind were disconnected. It was all so numbing. Empty. Nothing made sense. I returned to consciousness. I began to spiral. Why? Was this some sick twist of fate? Some arbitrary roll of the dice? Why me? Perhaps the blinds were removed; light began flooding in. Bright. White. Light. 

These thoughts, they make people go mad. Men and women alike.

.

.

.

The air freshener of the school infirmary hit my nose real hard. It was a chemical lavender, the kind that gives you migraines. My throat gagged and I began to cough as I inhaled it. I forcefully opened my heavy eyelids, blinking a few times to get the corners of the dark ceiling to focus. Ugh… the echoes were returning; the painkillers, it seemed, had worn off. Millions of needles etched their pricks into my skin; the claws of burgeoning flame gnashing their teeth. I bit down hard on my tongue; I couldn’t scream. With trembling limbs, I reattempted getting out of bed. The ice-cold floor was a seething chill upon my bare feet. Urk… After the initial overload of chemicals, there was a squeamish aroma of vomit. The second signal of pain, it seems. I wobbled. Moving my legs was now a Herculean task, they were shivering fervently before collapsing my body onto the floor. Lying awkwardly down on my back, I sighed within the lifelessness of the room. I was a malfunctioning doll, in a body no longer mine. Why? There was nothing to do except gaze blankly upward. I don’t feel like moving.

…

 The blinds were mostly shut, but it wasn’t like there was much light coming in. It came out more like a refined mist, some glowing haze. The ceiling could be the sky, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Just some monotone grey, as I was used to. I turned my gaze slightly to the side, settling it on a small shelf. Atop its metal frame was a small, wrapped gift; lingering citrus notes. Huh. My neck hurts. It all fucking hurts. 

…

I really wished that the ventilation system would turn on. Within the dead quiet, all I could hear was my own disjointed breathing. Sometimes the uncomfortable action of swallowing caused my ears great pain. Every so often, my stomach would gurgle a little to remind me that it was indeed digesting. It can go fuck itself. Everything here can go to shit. I don’t care. 

…

I was placed in Class 1B, huh? It probably doesn’t mean much; I’m just some nameless, faceless NPC anyway. The ground and I have come to an armistice … it’s still freezing, but a little warmer now.

…

I just want to stop thinking. 

Click! The bright white lights flicked on. My eyes were temporarily blinded, slowly adjusting to the shift. The heels of someone were hastily dashing toward me, each clack echoing throughout the empty building. As the person neared, I heard some rough breathing. 

“You! What happened here?!” a high-pitched feminine voice rang out in panic. Two thin arms wrapped beneath my armpits and around my upper chest area in an attempt to get me standing upright. The young nurse huffed and trembled, carrying me until I was able to get one of my feet stabilized on the ground. “There we go, can you try shifting some weight onto your other leg?”

I wobbled, trying to tilt my body to the left. My body surged in panic, adrenaline began to rush into my veins. My breathing became rash and the pain began to return. Blood was dripping down my mouth after I forcefully bit my tongue again.

“Shh…” the nurse gently chided. “Sit down on the bed, would you? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

I slowly put my weight onto the slim hospital bed, taking in a few deep breaths as I did so. 

“What…happened yesterday?” I asked tentatively.

She looked at me funnily as the question came out of my mouth, her brows were beginning to furrow. Sighing, she told me with a gentle voice, “You were riding the bus here, then for some abrupt reason, you began to vomit uncontrollably. It might’ve been an illness. We had to call the medics, though someone from up top ordered them to bring you on campus. Don’t know why, it could've been far better if you stayed at an actual hospital.” She trailed off, then looked at me. At this angle, I got a full view of her face. Brown hair, brown eyes. Her face was identical to the girl sitting next to me on the bus. Identical to the salary woman, the girl standing in the aisle. Brown hair, brown eyes. All gawking at me. Taunting me. “And then—I wasn’t here during that by the way—in the afternoon, your classmates came to visit… a-and…reportedly…I don’t understand…why did you do it?”

I stared at her blankly. She was looking away, fingers fidgeting. But I could care less. I vomited? Uncontrollably, it seems. Unbelievable. I glanced down at my hands, unable to see the blood; no injuries. I’m…hallucinating. This isn’t real. I felt the pain. There’s no way…

“Do you remember all this?” she dictioned louder, snapping my gaze back to her face. As she beheld my stare, she sighed. “Perhaps not,” she murmured, eyes shifting away, as if thinking of what to do. Oh, what to do? Was I perhaps…sick?! Is that all that happened? I vomited?

“No. I do remember. In fact, I remember everything,” I retorted with conviction. And I know you’re spouting a bunch of bullshit. 

“Well then,” the girl spoke, “can you tell me wh-”

“You look really young, like a high schooler. What are you supposed to be, a nurse?” I dismissed her.

“Ehm, yes? Well I’m more of an apprentice nurse.” I almost laughed. So surprised you forgot to stutter? Why the hell do you even exist? Worthless piece of shit. 

“Not experienced then? Where’s the actual professional here? Where did the real doctor go?”

She opened and closed her mouth, not uttering a word. What? So you exist just to fail at everything. You know what? Do you even exist?

“So the school doctor just doesn’t exist. Cool,” I stated flatly.

“What do you mean by that?” Her voice was quiet. She clasped my hands with her own, brows creasing further. Such a brittle semblance of comfort.

“I mean, it’s not like you or anyone else are real people, right? After this scene, you’ll likely never appear again. You won’t exist. You’re a passing, unremarkable face amongst millions and billions,” I chuckled.

“Are you alright?! I-I think you need to slow down.” The nurse was becoming frantic.

“What, are you saying that after exiting this very room, you’ll have someone to go back to?”

“Yes,” she sputtered out exasperatingly.

“Outside, you can get a ride home, past all those empty, repetitive buildings?” I raised my voice.

“Yes…” she repeated quietly.

“Then tell me, when you finally reach home, what do you see?”

The nurse, again, kept silent. I could feel her breathing getting quicker and quicker, her eyes shifting and wandering.

“Describe it for me then, if you’re so sure…”

“…”

“What? Having trouble? Does your home even exist?”

“Y-y-you need to calm down now. You’re beginning to spout nonsense!” the nurse screamed out, voice cracking midway through. Our hands trembled together, bound as one. Knees buckling, hands sealed together in prayer.

There was a pause, emptiness split sporadically with heavy breathing.

“Do you even know my name?”

“It’s…” She attempted to discreetly glance somewhere. “Takahashi Hito.” So she couldn’t even remember ‘me’. 

“That’s not my name.” But somehow, I hesitated. 

Who even am I now? I’m… me, right?

She stayed silent, her bland brown eyes piercing through me. They began to shine like glass. Her chest went up and down with each erratic breath. Her grip tightened. 

I don’t know. 

…

My elbows suddenly stopped trembling. My breath hitched. 

Why did the pain go away? It…was real. It had to be real! The blinding lights, my weakening heart. The pools of blood. The tea. I chose the tea. And even before…

“No. Takahashi Hito. That is your name,” she spoke again, tone tinted with worry.

“Then what about you? What’s yours?”

“…Kankoshi…Nasu…?” she whispered. Quieter than a dying flame.

“So I’m just ‘people’ with a generic last name, and you’re just ‘nurse’ two times over! Tell. Me. Are they our names?!”

“…y-yes!” She was on the verge of tears. “No! I don’t know!” her brittle voice cracked yet again as she lost control of her feelings. Tears silently streamed down her red cheeks; there was only the sound of gasping and crying. Broken chords echoed out of her mouth as she struggled to speak. “I exist. It all has to be real! It can’t all be nothing, can it?” She lost her footing, falling onto me. The two of us, lying on the cold, hard, hospital bed. And then it all washed over me, that contagious grief.

I remember when I saw my reflection within those blue eyes. The brown hair, brown eyes. The same faces staring at me. 

I don’t know. I don’t know who I am.

;;;~~~

Wednesday. A new day with new worries. At least that’s what I hoped for. 

“What’s up, Ichinose-chan? Yesterday was quite a blast, wasn’t it? Let’s go on another spree sometime soon!” a sweet, brown-haired girl eagerly spoke out to me.

I smiled at the comment. My classmates were so joyful and friendly, I couldn’t help but be happy. 

“Ain’t no way you’re calling that place’s signature dish the ‘magnum opus of ANHS’ when this wonder of a soup exists!” My classmate near the corner was arguing.

“For something of that price, it’s just not worth it.”

“Fine, let's have Hinata decide which one’s better.”

Yet a certain someone remained absent. And that certain someone’s actions could not be wiped from my mind. Why did he do it? He was afraid. He was panicked. Yes. I was sure of it. But I know Mako-chan will be lingering around me like a motherly dove, worried for my safety and well-being. She must be confused and anxious about my telling her to keep hush. 

“Ichinose-san! Ichinose! Let’s check out the pool area sometime in the weekend!” a boy was calling to me.

Shopping. Karaoke. Dining. I straightened my bow as class was about to begin. Unity, kindness, cooperation. Something I wished for within the class. Yet what would they think of Takahashi Hito-kun’s actions? I couldn’t stomach lying to someone, but… No, that wouldn’t matter. I would ensure that he would be properly integrated into Class 1B.

The sun shone its ethereal rays onto the field of luscious green grass. The sky itself was a vibrant sea of cerulean, unblemished by clouds. The minuscule droplets of morning dew were magnified by the light, each displaying their own rainbow sphere. A clean smell of freshly-cut grass colored the air. The calm zephyr massaged the blades of green into mesmerizing waves; carrying the joyous laughter and cacophonous screaming of my classmates. It was a later noon, and we were hanging out doing activities on one of the school fields until we were to visit the Club Fair. The current activity involved kicking around a soccer ball and lots of screaming. Shibata-kun dubbed it the “Finding Friends—Soccer Edition”.

I joyously spectated from the sidelines, as girls and boys alike, ran manically. I’ve already run around enough, I’m not the best at physical activities, heh. There was a collective shout as one of our male classmates, Yagami Etsuo-kun, head-butted the ball into one of the four goals. An incredibly high-scoring trick. 

“AND THAT’S THE DECIDING GOOAAALLLL!!!” Shibata-kun yelled from the opposing side of the field, yet his infectious energy radiated all the way to my seat. Akin to a herd of wolves, a group of boys and girls began to chase and lunge at him, grabbing roughly onto his hands and legs. They carried his body as they paraded him around like a trophy. Huh, it appears they may be his teammates. Meanwhile, it seems the other team is playfully sulking. Sayo-chan strikingly pointed her finger toward Yagami, mouthing distant threats, rubbing her short roasted-caramel hair with the other hand. I jumped up from my seat at the bleachers, waving at them enthusiastically in encouragement.

“Yahoo~! Great game!” I hollered.

Several participating classmates gave me a thumbs up before rushing to begin a new game. Mako-chan, sitting casually beside me, watched on thoughtfully, sipping on some ice-cold water. Unlike yesterday, she had set her hair down, cascading down in branches of blooming flowers in dual colors. It seemed fluffier, heavily contrasting the sharp, jagged edges akin to twin blades of her previous look. To my other side, Mina-chan observed the game coyly, fanning herself with her hand. She had kept her signature twin buns, the remaining hair a palate of springy leaves.

“Yo~ Ichi-chan, got your eye on any of the players?” Minamikata smirked teasingly. “I totally didn’t expect Yagami of all people to win the game. Especially not with a headbutt. That was hella cool, don’t ya think?”

“Yeah, I mean, he never struck me as the sports type,” Bashi-chan added. She adjusted her headband, making short blue-grey hair sway side to side.

“Meh, brown’s sadly a little bland for me. Shibata appears more experienced in the game so I think he shines a lot more,” someone added.

“Really? But you’re also brown-haired…” a boy complained. “We’re all brown-haired.”

“I’m glad he’s so immersed in the game! Though I worry a little for his head, I hope the concussion doesn’t cause anything permanent!” I chuckled.

“Come on, Ichi-chan,” Mako-chan butted in. “You’re way too considerate of others.” To blanket her harsher words, she smiled and giggled as she ended the statement. She ran a hand through her hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear.

“Relax, Mako-chan~,” Mina assured. “If Ichinose ever overloads herself with responsibilities, we’ll make sure to shoulder it with her. That’s what friends are for, after all.” She then turned to me. “Make sure to tell us if you ever feel burdened. Unity is the job of many after all.”

“This unity is a class burden! Don’t be afraid to share your troubles with us!” Others chimed in. I glanced back, greeted by a tableau of smiling, reassuring faces. Eager brown-eyes, some with a timid, embarrassed flickering of eyesight. Others were more assertive and confident, facing my gaze head on.

“Thanks,” I spoke softly, cracking a soft smile. “And don’t be afraid to talk to me about your guys’ too!”

“Just keep in mind that you’re a student and not a therapist,” Mako added, though her hands were shivering from the cold surface of the water cup. 

“Please don’t worry too much about me, Mako-chan.” I put a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Want my handkerchief?” Mina offered. 

As we were continuing our conversation, a few sets of footsteps hit the tin of the metal bleacher seats. I glanced to my right, it was Kanzaki and Hamaguchi-kun. They were on the more formal, studious side as denoted by their clothing. Despite the casual setting, they were still dressed cleanly in their school uniforms—just without their outer red jackets. 

“Hiya there!” I waved. “How’s it going?”

Hamaguchi-kun adjusted his glasses. “You know, I would like to formally thank you for cultivating such a friendly atmosphere.” 

I shifted my glance down to his hand. A vibrant red string wrapped around his finger with a tiny trinket hanging on the other end. It was a tiny crochet fox, a face of orange and white, and beady button eyes. Its tiny body, stubby legs, and furry tail only added to its cuteness.

“No need to thank me. It was a class effort. Without yours and everyone else’s eager spirits, I don’t know if this could even be possible. Also…” My eyes shifted down to the chibi fox, “did Nino-chan teach you how to make these? This is so incredibly adorable!” I squealed in delight.

“Ahaha, you are indeed correct. Ninomiya is actually quite the expert in chibi-handicrafts,” he chuckled. “Well, time to talk about official business.” His gaze quickly flicked toward the sun, before lowering his head, using a single finger to push up his glasses. At this angle, darkness overshadowed both of his eyes, a single line of bright light reflecting as they were pushed. Kanzaki pulled out a notebook, setting it close to his chest as if it contained confidential information.

Mina-chan spread her signature sly smirk as her gaze traveled from me to Kanzaki. “Secret bizz, huh? I’ll leave you guys to it then.” She left to the side with a wink… wait what?!?! I quickly shook my head, but she just replied with a nod. It seems we’ll never escape this misunderstanding. Haah. Never mind that.

With Minamikata gone, I glanced to my side. Yep. She was loving it. Mako-chan’s hands were no longer trembling as she shifted her complete attention toward the boys’ melodramatic actions.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” a distant shout came from the soccer field.

“Whoa! Lemme guess, Ichi-chan’s Prime Minister and I’m the consigliere!” She rubbed her hands together. “Spill.”

“Hold on, Kanzaki, wasn’t Watanabe-kun also with you yesterday afternoon?” I made sure to confirm.

“AAUUUUUGGHHHHH!” A certain curly lavender-haired male was screaming dearly for his life.

“Oh, yes. However, I believe he is…” he tried to contain his chuckle, “preoccupied with getting bodied by Yagami-san.” He looked at me and Mako-chan curiously. “But let’s get on with our exposition dump, shall we?”

“Firstly, in our investigation of the campus, we found that there were multiple hidden cameras, most populated within the school complex with the classrooms for students. Of course, I can’t confirm whether or not they record audio, but I’m assuming they don’t because that would be a human rights violation. We, of course, took pictures and mapped most of them found within populated areas such as the classrooms, cafeteria, school gymnasium, sports fields, etcetera. We haven’t done anything with the ones potentially located on roadways, dorms, and the trail around the whole of the island,” Kanzaki explained, with a properly augmented voice.

There was a collective gasp around the crowd. 

“Well, Hoshinomiya-sensei did mention that ‘bullying would be monitored carefully, is this what she meant by that?” Someone murmured.

“Additionally, as many of you guys noticed and posted in the class group chat, convenience stores allow three free items a month. There is also a free meal set within the cafeteria–though nobody was eating it,” Hamaguchi-kun noted. “Along with the imposed schola brevis for the first week of school… it’s as if the school wants us to indulge in some sort of paradise, right?”

“Oh!” another classmate butted in as something seemed to connect. “Hoshinomiya-sensei told us that our allowances were determined by our ‘merit’!”

“Yes!” I encouraged. “She told us that we attained 100,000 points due to us passing the entrance exam! But that’s only a single hurdle in our paths. When will our ‘merit’ be reevaluated?” I wondered aloud.

“Maybe there’s going to be another test coming up, like with the entrance exam which was honestly kinda hard. But there’s no way we all got the same scores. We’re academically on separate levels, so was there some sort of passing threshold?”

“Wait,” a skeptical student murmured. “There’s no way we were the only ones who passed. The only other deciding factor would be the interview and application survey. Was there something they were looking for specifically? I doubt it.”

“What are you saying?” a girl was offended. “Are you implying that we were admitted through a lottery?”

“What I’m saying is that there are too many unknown variables. Yes, this is lots of important and suspicious evidence, but how do we currently know that it’s legit? I apologize if I’m being direct or rude, but our ‘merit’ can’t earn us 100,000 points as currency just like that. We’re above average teenagers with average hobbies. We aren’t geniuses who’ve worked in research labs nor winners of high-profile contests. With the cameras, it’s as if we’re being observed for behavioral differences caused by abundant resources. Experiments.”

“I’m really sorry, I couldn’t understand the reason behind your ‘argument’ at all. Honestly, yours and Ichinose’s ideas are parallel.”

“My bad, I was just trying to reinforce the fact that we may have been randomly chosen to be admitted. Or perhaps, because we’re all very friendly-natured as ascertained within the interview portion, we were all ‘specially selected’ into the same class for compatibility.”

“I would like to respectfully point out potential flaws within your reasoning. You’re trying to say that Hoshinomiya-sensei’s lying about our getting this allowance from ‘merit’. So if you’re implying that she was lying, what else could she be lying about? I think it’s best to assume this is so, using all her words as viable concrete evidence. I was honestly skeptical of its outside reputation, but if these are purposefully sprinkled clues for us to discuss and find out, then there is definitely something hiding behind this facade of paradise.”

“Tch, yet it’s not possible for someone to have remembered exactly everything that she said with the exact wording.”

“Adding on to these thoughts, I think that this imposed schola brevis was also to tip us off about a different mechanism. I recall she said it was implemented due to ‘popular demand’. Maybe a reason why none of our senpais were eating free meals was due to getting some sort of funds that allow them to purchase these meals. They might not even have the allowance to afford it, but are able to for a limited period of time,” another student surmised.

Kanzaki’s right hand was a blur in jotting notes down. I was also attempting to list the main points within my mental checklist. “Ahem,” I raised my voice. “When I was questioning a senpai yesterday, it seemed he was savoring the meal an incredible amount. This definitely reinforces this speculation.”

“Oh I know!” Mako-chan was practically bouncing out of his seat, an arm raised high up. 

“Yes, Mako-chan?” I giggled, pointing toward her like a teacher picking on a student to contribute to the class.

“We’re being observed through the cameras for our behavior! This will decide our ‘merit’ the next time the evaluation comes around!”

“Really? As high school students, proper class etiquette has been instilled in us since we were young, so even without knowing about this revaluation, most if not all students should pass with flying colors. There would be little to no decrease in our allowance. Also, if this were in an exam format similar to the entrance examination, as long as we succeed the threshold, we would retain or increase our allowance. Most students here would still be able to afford lavish lifestyles,” the same skeptical student jutted in.

“Oh lawd, it’s the professional devil’s advocate.”

“Ay, ay. My five siblings have prepared me for this very day.”

“How about this? In a combination of camera observations, exam scores, and some other mechanism, classes lose points…” I suggested. But what could that be? No… the rumors. It couldn’t be that, right? “Like some sort of ‘de-merit’ in contrast to ‘merit’!” Yeah, let’s leave it at that.

“I think we’ve made lots of headway, but our allowances decided as a year? As a class? Or as an individual? Currently, everyone has ‘passed’ the entrance examination, so everyone gets the same amount of merit. At least, that makes the most sense.”

“There must be something that encourages competition here, right? Healthy competition breeds progress. It probably isn’t going to be decided separately for each individual, as I think it would make more sense that if it were individual competitions, each student would get varying allowances based on their scores, not just passing/not passing. Also, there’s only 160 students a year; 480 students total. There technically wouldn’t need to be classes if it were the case.”

“Your reasoning hinges too much on assumptions and personal opinions of competition. I’m not saying that I disagree, but everyone getting the same amount of points would make the competition fair, with everyone at the same starting point.”

“Wait… guys……” a timid girl spoke. “When we check our balance on the profile part in [ANHS Community], it’s not just points, but private points. Maybe it’s less obvious on the bank and scanning app.”

“PP?” a guy chuckled. “No way the school did this just to make a dick joke, I mean, does ‘popular demand’ allow changes like these?”

As my group was deep in discussion, a sweet feminine voice projected out of a nearby speaker.

“At 5PM Japan Standard Time today, we will be holding a student club fair in Gymnasium No.1. Students interested in joining a club, please gather in Gymnasium No. 1. I repeat–”

“Oh! My bad guys,” I stood up apologetically. “I’ve got to do something before the club fair, so I’ll have to leave. Don’t worry, I’ll meet up with you guys again at the gym~!” I quickly sprinted out of the vicinity, the echoes of vivid discussion rides in my ears. My classmates were joyfully participating in discussions and games, connecting incredibly quickly… and I am eternally grateful for it.

~~~

The announcement for the club fair rang across the nigh-empty classroom.

After our short schooling periods were over, most students had dispersed from the academic area. Tragically, before Hirata could properly invite me to lunch, the girls bombarded him and dragged him away. Now I’m too lazy to get out and eat something proper! All this for an above-average guy? Tch! It’s not like I’m jealous or anything. Though what was even more curious, was the fact that Horikita didn’t budge from her seat, munching on a few slices of apples as she was busy writing in her notebook. Such an interesting specimen.

Earlier today in class, she probably wasn’t even paying attention to Chabashira despite looking indelibly studious. I glanced briefly at her notebook, and my suspicions were validated: she was busy involving herself in maths, not caring about the class outline nor history lesson. Even hours later, her undoubtedly tired hand had not given up writing. And now, you’re probably wondering why I’m also staying behind. Well… I don’t know. Empty classrooms just call to me I suppose.

“Hey, Horikita–”

Without even lifting her gaze off the page, she interrupted me. “You’ve been staring at me all this time and all you wanted to do was ask me if I was interested in joining any clubs? That’s pathetic.”

“I didn’t even ask the question yet…” I sulked.

“You’re easily readable.”

Aaaand there was another period of silence. It’s just how interactions with her go. She isn’t as irritable as the first day, just reeaaalllyyy bad at socializing. The flow of her ink pen on paper was quick and efficient as the angle of refraction. To pass the time, I once again looked outside the window, viewing the swaying, elegant branches of the sakura. I spotted a small bird flitting in the waves of the zephyr. Tatakae tatakae… It would be a joy to attain wings and fly freely along the wind of life, amongst the cloudless sky. The fire of the sun would hug my body in a warm embrace as I pursued the height of the world…

“Hey, aren’t you ‘friends’ with the proclaimed perverts? Have you finally realised how tarnishing it would be to your reputation to associate with them?” With the forceful hitting of a pen on the table, Horikita spoke, interrupting my fantasies.

“I guess I just want to hang out with other people to get a feel of who I like. Honestly, you seem to care a lot about your reputation despite being a complete unfriendly, unsociable loner.” I shrugged my shoulders to appear nonchalant.

“Tch, says the lifeless doll bastard devoid of all personality,” she bit back. 

“We’re both loners, so I don’t get what’s different.”

“The difference is that you actually want to make friends, and are pathetically failing to do so,” she uttered, as if this were the most insultingly obvious detail in the world. Jeez, you didn’t have to point it out like that.

“Well me personally, not wanting friends is even more edgy and pathetic,” I replied defensively.

“Edgy? Did you hang out with that atrocious-smelling shut-in otaku earlier today?” She wrinkled her nose. “You’re not secretly perverted are you?”

“No…? Why?” Where did she get this far-fetched idea? I’ve shown nothing!

“Anyway, no one in this class is worth being friends with, so don’t try so hard. It just amplifies how pathetic you are.”

“Really? I think Hirata’s nice, and so is Kushida. There are plenty of nice people here.”

“I have nothing against them personally. In fact, they are sufficient in skill set. However, I would rather not dilute my personality and become one of Hirata-kun retarded chicks chasing after him. Kushida is clearly someone disingenuous. Of course, there is nothing pointing against her hidden foulness, but there is no plausible reason for someone so terribly outgoing other than to improve their reputation. The only thing I could compliment her on is her ambition to be other peoples’ dog.”

I often forget that her tongue can be sharper than her compass. She speaks all decadently like a rich noble, and the part about diluting…? A strange scene appeared in my head as I inwardly giggled. It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe that Horikita would say something like “UWAAAHHHH! I must keep the Horikita bloodline pure!” and then marry her cousin, right? Or even a sibling?

“The gaze of people is everywhere as they silently make judgements of your character. One must be aware of their imposed image upon other people lest they become unaware of the consequences. At least being friendless, you are a non-existent entity instead of a notorious pervert,” she continued monologuing in the open. 

I pushed to reflect on her words. What a rigid view on life. No wonder Horikita is so strange and standoffish as a person. Hold on… 

“Hey Horikita, I thought you hated associating with others, yet you keep starting conversations with me. Is it possible that you are actually tsun-tsun~?” I teased her.

“Stop spouting nonsense!” she spoke firmly, returning her attention to her note-taking. I’ve succeeded in annoying her again. Yippee! I learned from Sotomura earlier of the major female archetypes, and when I stopped to think about it now, Horikita was a perfect fit for the tsundere model. She even has the standard long, blank hair! Deep down, there might be layers to uncover as I get to know her more, like an onion. Wait, more like a daikon. She doesn’t have that many layers; she’s just incredibly thick in the head. Yep. Hehehe.

“Wait, you’re going to the club still though, right?”

“Tch, I suppose I could accompany your pitiful, lonely self.”

Gymnasium No.1 was already quite populated as Horikita and I entered the Club Fair. Each club had a little booth where representatives passed out brochures and posted large pictures of the club members having fun. To the right, I spotted a long line of athletic clubs, from soccer, karate, to basketball. I noted that on the brochure, the clubs were mentioned to operate on a high level; apparently famous throughout the nation. Even though this school didn’t seem like a top-tier institution for activities like baseball and ballet, the clubs here still looked fairly decent. In the distance, I spotted a tall, muscular dude sporting fiery red hair. It was Sudo, a relatively familiar face, I guess. As I was about to take my first courageous step in his direction, I was interrupted.

“Yo, Ayanokouji!” It was Ike and Yamauchi. “Whatcha up to all alone here, ya shoulda came with us!”

“Ahaha,” I chuckled nervously. “I actually came with–” I glanced to the side, expecting to see a properly postured black-haired Tsundere scowling next to me… yet she was nowhere to be seen. “Hold on.”

“Did blud become schizophrenic?” Yamauchi joked. “No worries. I’m usually so surrounded by hotties that when I’m without them, I hallucinate them by instinct.” Well, I at least don’t fully doubt the last part. “I actually had a harem of milfs after I retired from my professional sports career. Too bad I had to leave them behind.”

“Never mind who I came with, are you guys interested in joining any clubs?” I asked, trying to stimulate a productive conversation.

“Nah man,” Ike shrugged. “I’m just waiting here for a fateful encounter.” A what now? “Can’t you imagine it, man? As a big busty girl stumbles and is about to trip… I heroically swoop in and catch her at the last second! Uwah! Love at first sight!” He stared passionately toward the ceiling, the lights at the top of the room making his eyes shine brightly, clenching his fists with ambition all the while.

“Weelll, I guess I’ll go check out some booths, see what catches my interest. Good luck and goodbye.”

I quickly slid away from the two perverts of Class D, continuing my journey to Sudo. Although he was on the more stupid and perverted side, he still had sports as a way to release dopamine. That made him… better I guess? As I followed my way through the crowds of chaos, another set of footsteps accompanied me. I glanced behind me. Damn you, Horikita!

“Where did you go? You really left me all alone?” I cried out dramatically.

“Did you not get anything from that conversation? Even the word ‘retard’ doesn’t want to be associated with them. I’m not to be seen with such scum. I’m here to tag along, not to be your emotional support, if you have any emotions that is. Well, where’s your destination?”

I was angrily about to drag her arm toward Sudo and the basketball club booth, but she quickly slapped my hand away. Hmph! She better not ghost me again. Different booths displayed their high quality sports equipment. I was honestly impressed as they were professional grade. 

CLAP!! “Yoooo~ what up Makoto!” a boy hollered as the two brown-haired buddies slapped each others’ hands. “Here to join the Karate club are you?”

“Duh, dumbass,” the other boy chuckled. “You’ve never beaten me in a karate match before, been inflating my ego sky high. I’m here to kick ass and actually be humbled.”

I stopped walking, gazing in their direction.

“Hmph! I’ll definitely train and catch up to you, you better watch yourself!”

I could hear Horikita’s close breathing. It seems she cared enough to stop. 

“Shounen MC ahh,” he chuckled. He playfully rolled his eyes before picking up the pen and signing the application sheet. “I, Haruto Yonezu, will put a stop to your evildoing!” He seemed to be mimicking something as he had slicked his hair back and over exaggerated his movement.

“Oh hey dude. You signin’ up, Kanzaki?” The two shifted their gazes toward a tall figure with purple hair. They casually bumped their fists. “You said you had experience, right?”

“You’re correct. But… I’ll think about it then.”

“Why did you stop?” Horikita pondered. “I thought you were heading toward Sudo.”

“No reason.”

“Hello, students of ANHS!” the same sweet voice as the announcer echoed loudly throughout the gym. After just a few seconds, the students ceased their chatter, focusing their attention onto the stage. Damn. Am I ever going to be able to make it to Sudo??? I sighed internally. Up on center stage stood a petite senpai, with silky purple hair tied into twin buns. She held herself gracefully as she began introducing the various clubs and leaders. “Thank you all for waiting, first-year students. We will now begin the club fair. Representatives from the club will explain their function. My name is Tachibana, the student council secretary and the club fair’s organizer. It’s nice to meet you all.”

As she finished her opening speech, she stepped aside and allowed the first club to introduce themselves. Although, there apparently only needed to be three agreeing members to form a club, so it was likely that only the main clubs would get the opportunity to present on stage while it being possible for all clubs to have their own small booth. I checked out the differing outfits of the representatives, some were wearing kimonos, while another upperclassman was naked save for a… speedo. Is that the swimming club’s strategy to attract new blood? As one club finished, the murmurings of the freshmen grew louder as they discussed the contents. It took some time to quiet them down, but another group took the spotlight. Each presenter kept a joyful and over-friendly facade. They really must be desperate for new members, huh? This time, it was the cooking club.

“Are you finding that meals on campus are either too expensive or incredibly ass?” There was a quiet gasp amongst students. “Do you want to make your own meals, not only for convenience but cost-efficiency? Well you’re in the right place! At the cooking club, cooking newbies and enthusiasts share recipes and experiences! The clubroom is loaded with high-quality cooking equipment and experienced cooks, so when you taste your food, you get the Food Wars-esque experience of aaannh~—”

“Thank you, Yukihira-san, that’s enough,” Tachibana cut her off. I wonder why though. From an outsider’s perspective, it felt a little rude. Though I was slightly intrigued; if I weren’t so lazy, I would’ve signed up in a heartbeat.

“Sounds like the perfect club for you, Ishizaki. Fat-fucking-ass. You’ll at least stop using so many tissues.”

“Well at least I don’t look like a gay-ass twink, Komiya. Shit haircut.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Better close it before I turn you into a donut.”

Huh, the two delinquents seemed quite aggressive to one another. They made the current state of Class D seem like a unified utopia. Though to use such insults, you would technically have to be close to them, right? Am I reaching because I desperately want to consider Horikita my friend? Who knows. But what makes a friend anyway? I was witness to several various forms. It seems incredibly diverse. Is it expressed in personal ways, like a stylized clap? Is it the fact that someone is willing to listen to your struggles? How do you suddenly strike up a conversation? When’s the right time? How do you know when you’re losing yourself? Diluting myself? While I agonized on and on about my distinct lack of sociability, the room abruptly fell into a hush. Confused, I looked to Horikita for an explanation… but she was completely frozen, gazing toward the stage again. And somehow, she seemed to be standing much farther away than where she was previously.

“Horikita…?” I pushed on her shoulder slightly. No response. If she were coherent, she would definitely have killed me by now. Haah. Time for an unusual approach. “Suzune…chan?” I cringed, though it didn’t seem like she heard me. Should I tickle her now? She would then be forced to notice me… Nevermind, let’s not dig a grave over here. 

“...Furthermore, we in the student council do not wish to appoint anyone who possesses a naive outlook. Not only would such a person–” Oh wait, is that the student council president? He was the last remaining figure on stage, with an average height of 170 cm and black hair, crimson red eyes. “...It is the student council’s right and duty to enforce and amend the rules, but  the school expects more than that. We gladly welcome those of you who understand this.” Immediately after finishing his speech, he hopped off the stage and left the gymnasium. The pressure he was imposing was so incredible that us first-years could only watch him leave, not daring to utter a word.

“Thank you all for coming. The club fair had ended. Club registration will be open until the end of April, so if any student wishes to join at a later date, we ask that you please bring the application form directly to the club you wish to join.” Tachibana’s laid back delivery allowed the suffocating tension to ease out as the students resumed their perusal of the various club booths. 

“So, Horikita–” She was still frozen in place. “Horikita?” Her cheeks were incredibly red, her chest moving intensely up and down with her rapid breaths. Her fists were trembling. As if her mind were wandering in a whole ’nother dimension.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” she finally melted and responded. Now that I look at her now… long, flowing black hair and crimson red eyes… She looks remarkably similar to him. Are they related somehow? No, I’m sure of it. Shoooot… my predictions aren’t coming true, are they?! 

“I was just calling your name and you were acting all weird. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she denied. “Now that you’ve failed to make friends for the nth time, are you going to leave now?” 

“Okayyyy… I’ll go say hi to Sudo and then walk around some more.” Though as I turned toward the basketball club booth, he was gone. [Side Quest Failed]. “I’ll walk around some more.”

Hidden in the corner of the gymnasium was an enclosed booth filled with music instruments. The girl seemingly in charge of this station was a girl with scrawny brown hair and brown eyes. My eyes quickly ignored her figure to focus on the grand piano sitting front and center. Some powerful force was pulling toward it, and before I knew it, I sat down, placing my fingers gingerly onto the cold, reflective keys. Should I play it? It would definitely score me points with Horikita. 

“Oh,” the brown-haired girl spoke boredly. “Wanna play?”

“Can I?”

“Of course. Feel free to.”

With the confirmation, I closed my eyes. What would be an elegant yet simple song to play? I definitely wanted to show off, but not make her too impressed or suspicious. Chopin’s Nocturne No. 20 in C-sharp Minor seemed like a fitting song. It’s popular too. I took in a deep breath as the surrounding noise eroded away. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_ST3hzMsVE

The song was meant to be gentle and delicate, a powerful homophonic melody led by the right hand as the left hand created a rhythmic, flowing backdrop. The key to playing it would lie the proper use of hand motions, to weave a beautiful image of the tranquil night. This song doesn’t quite rely on pure tempering or strength, though I’m still struggling at it. Reminiscence. As the final notes rang out, I glanced slyly back to the meager audience. What do you think of that, Horikita? The usually stoic and pompous woman actually seemed softer, with a twitching brow.

“You actually play nicely, I can spot the technique,” she begrudgingly admitted, with her hands crossed. I noticed that she was looking more toward the piano than at my face. Is she embarrassed? 

“Thanks,” I tried to sound extra enthusiastic.

“Pfft, your face is as bland as ever. I’ll be going now.” She turned her heel and rushed out of the enclosed area.

Wait what? Come back! “Aren’t you gonna tag along?” I asked her. But she had already left.

“Hey Horikita, I didn’t know you were interested in the music club. But I guess there’s more time now.”

It was a muffled male voice. How interesting. 

When I exited, they had already disappeared.

;;;~~~

“Ta…kahashi-kun…” there was a squeamish feminine voice. “Takahashi I-I don’t want to leave!” It was a young teenage girl, with the standard brown hair and brown eyes. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her stance brittle from all the shivering. 

“Well if you don’t, you’ll probably starve and die anyway. Better to die alone in a corner than watch as someone laughs at your demise.” The man paused. “Or quick and swift without all the hunger and despair.”

“I don’t really know which is best,” the girl gazed out the window. She recalled how sparse light illuminated the room, turning it a pale ultramarine in the morning. How once the sun rose, the room became warm and fuzzy, concrete. “So are your classmates coming over again?”

The two sat on a hospital bed within the school infirmary, its white sheets being warmed by the flowing sunlight. It was mostly white—white walls, white floor tiles, white bed; the only source of color came from the metal sink and the various medicines within the cabinet. The intense chemical lavender had been dulled, the haze of the morning wrought away by the sun. There was a delicately opened box and the plastic wrappings of various snacks strewn across the floor. There was fish jerky, fruit jelly, dried lotus roots.

“Most likely.”

A stomach grumbled. “I mean… I guess it’s real enough. I don’t know,” the girl’s voice began to crumple again. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. “I don’t know.”

“Well can you leave now?” the man demanded, seemingly ignorant. 

A powerful slap rang through the silence, leaving a deep red imprint on the man’s cheek. “You don’t get to say that!” she cried. “Maybe it doesn’t matter… Maybe it does! Maybe I was something. I don’t know… when I became nothing, if I was always nothing. I don’t know why!” she shouted tearfully, manically. “But back then I didn’t know, and that was alright! I’d rather rot somewhere where people can see me; I’d actually exist!”

“…you can ponder all you want. But the answer… I doubt it’ll ever come. The best you could do is ignore it, pretend it doesn’t exist.” His voice was dead as ever. The man lay down lifelessly, hardly listening to her ramblings.

Her eyes widened. She began to laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to lecture me, you motherfucker!” she spat. “I can’t stand your fucking bullshit! It’s not my fault! Not my fault you did this!” Her arms tore at her already frazzled hair, forcefully yanking them out. She threw herself into another crying fit, falling onto the ground, shivering and spasming. The tile was cold and rigid in its rough embrace. On and on, on and on. 

…

Until it finally stopped. 

“I can’t take this anymore. It won’t matter, will it? None of this will make a difference…” she weakly sobbed out. 

She weakly pulled herself up from the ground, staring silently for a long while.

…

She finally headed toward the medicine cabinet. Coricidin. She popped open the foil, gathering handfuls of tiny red pills onto her dainty palm. The sink was nearby, a cup too. She hesitated, the little tablets rubbing against each other on her shaky hand. A final glance at the window, that unreachable window. The sunlight, she wondered for a final time if it were genuine.

…

Pop! There was a difficult swallow. She sank slowly to the ground, no longer bothering to cry out. She laid herself down onto the floor; it was too much to even lift her head. She coughed slightly, gagging in partial pain, body jerking left and right. And then the pain on her face went away. She relaxed. 

…

Up and down. Up… and down. …Up……and…down… The ocean was blooming across her lips. 

…

The man tried to ignore her, he himself laying down on the hospital bed. Yet despite his best efforts, his chest began to tremble and dislodge as fits of pained laughter pushed against his throat. He opened his mouth, letting it all out. 

Rough, painful, and remorseful. 

Ugly, pointless, and loud. 

He couldn’t stop. His eyes began to tear as his entire face began to hurt. His vision quickly became distorted and incoherent, the colors bleeding into a meaningless haze. 

Laughing, laughing, crying. Crying, crying, laughing. He buried his face into his palms, shoulders shaking, gasping between choked-out sounds. No one was listening anyway. 

…

Fall… asleep…… I want to fall asleep…

A strawberry blonde student slowly pushed open the door. Her gift from yesterday had fallen from the ground, yet she smiled with joy that the discordant classmate had accepted it. She daintily made her way toward the hospital bed he was resting on; it was a shame that he couldn’t meet his classmates today. His drowsy face relaxed, chest heaving up and down in a rhythmic motion. Her gentle gaze landed on a small bottle of pills resting a short distance away and an empty glass. Was he sick? 

“Miss nurse, how is Takahashi-kun faring currently?” her honey-sweet voice reached out.

The nurse, a young woman with brown hair and brown eyes, smiled as she noticed the student. “Yes, he got a little cold earlier, so I told him to rest up and take some cough medicine…Again, I apologize for not supervising you yesterday when you came to visit, it was an oversight on my part.”

“Oh! No worries. I think he was just too frazzled to think clearly. I just came here to clear up any misunderstandings with him and hear his reasoning, if that’s okay with you.”

“No, of course it’s alright with me, dear,” the nurse assured. “You’re incredibly considerate of your classmates, I’m sure you’re always working hard. Are you sure you don’t need a break?”

“I’m fine, miss,” the student reassured with a charming smile. Her gaze once again landed on the sleeping boy. There was a pause. “How’s your day been going?”

“It’s been alright, not much to do other than take care of your classmate over there. The upperclassmen are mostly tame during the first month,” she chuckled.

“Haha~, it must be wonderful living somewhere like this. I was blown away yesterday, it’s like… paradise.”

“Paradise, huh? You’re not wrong. I’m very blessed to have this job. It’s the only reason I exist Though I’ll warn you, it’s never good to be overindulgent.”

“Thanks for the tip! But you don’t have to worry about me, I can handle myself. And your name tag says…Kankoshi… Nasu? What a pretty name.”

The nurse blushed. “Ah, thanks. You could say that I was made born to do this kind of work.” She winked.

The man began to stir, numbly sitting up. He blinked to get his vision into focus. It seemed his classmate from before had decided to visit him again. And then he saw the nurse. Brown hair, brown eyes. He blinked several times. Was this real? Trembling irises, panicked breathing. He struggled to put words together. 

“I’m sorry,” he spoke out weakly. “I-I’m so fucking sorry!” His arms began to tremble again in pain, another set of tears were wrought upon his face.

Ichinose quickly rushed to his side to comfort him. “No, it’s alright. I forgive you.”

“No, it’s not—you don’t understand!” He raised his hand, pulling it back as if he were to hit her again. Her breath hitched, she clenched her fists, doing her best not to show her fear. She took in a deep breath before inching forward.

“Shhhh… I don’t care if I don’t,” the girl spoke louder, hugging her warm body against his. He simply shook his head, eyes wide. “Your experiences and regrets are unique to you, so I never will! What matters is that we can move on and improve ourselves. People make mistakes all the time.” She quieted down. “We just need to know how to avoid making the same ones over and over again.”

The man neglected to say anything at all, simply staring into empty space. I really need a beer.

“Listen to me, Takahashi. I know it’ll take some time to recover from all this, if there’s anything going on, I’ll listen.”

“Also, the club fair is starting at around thirty minutes from now, though it’s already set up. Would you like to go, Takahashi-kun?” the nurse suggested.

“No,” he shivered. “I need some time. Alone.”

“Well then, see you tomorrow?” Ichinose asked tenderly.

“…Okay.”

“It’s a deal then. It’ll be lots of fun, I promise! Make sure to make good choices and take good care of yourself!” Ichinose left a handwritten note, detailing her number and a tiny school guide to ANHS, before slowly exiting the infirmary.

So I really am… here.?

;;;

The sun was beginning to set onto another night, painting the sky a vibrant orange. Most freshmen had headed to the club fair, eager to gain new friends and explore new opportunities. Though even without this event, it wasn’t like there would be many people here in the first place. In a largely secluded area of the island sat a lonely convenience store, perhaps for athletes and sightseers to stop along their journeys. The cashier had grown used to being alone all day, so he had set up a small mattress next to the register, snoozing along. It was soft and warm, as if he were floating. Without air conditioning, sleeping was all he would do in the Spring and Summer, often adding more pillows and quilts come Autumn. For normalcy, ANHS relied on workers that accepted low pay and isolation from their families, and the cashier had fit the bill. He’d never gotten a college degree, no girlfriend, no attachments. He just needed some easy job, no matter how low-paying it was, even if it meant he could only afford to eat instant ramen. 

Cring! The jingling of the bells signaled the entering of a customer. The cashier sighed, shifting to another side on his mattress, tiny clacking steps on the dirty floor gaining his attention. They began to get closer and closer, and at the end of an aisle, an innocent face peeked out. It was a fluffy brown dog, droopy ears and a lion-like face. What was it again? Yes, he recalled it was something of a lionberger. The big dog sprinted toward the counter, wagging its tail. 

“What’s up, fat man?” he lazily drawled, stretching his limbs. He lifted his arm slowly to pet its head, rubbing it firmly. “Oh god. Oh…” He yawned heartily, closing his eyes. “How’s it goin’?” The dog barked calmly. Seemingly contaminated with the cashier’s drowsiness, it lay down on its back, beginning its own little late-noon nap. Grrr… 

Cring! The owner, as expected. The door opened a second time, this new set of footsteps pronounced and purposeful, heels clacking loudly against the floorboards. The dog quickly lifted its head to bark at the noise. “Now where did you go, little fatass?” an irritated feminine voice grumbled. “Just tying the lock and now you’ve run away.” The woman chuckled. 

“Oh, my bad. He’s ’ere with me,” the man yawned. Woof! “Heh. Welp, take your time.” He resumed napping.

The owner, a striking young woman in her early twenties, though with a more mature body. She sported a tight polyester pink top, accentuating her chest, and loose black jeans. Her wavy light-brown hair was tied loosely into a ponytail as sweat glistened down her neck. With practiced movements, she made her way toward the alcohol section.

“Aren’t you gonna have a start of the year sale or something?” she sighed.

“What? Why? People hardly come here anyway.”

“Tch.” Then she made her eyes shine, voice sweeter. “But you really won’t do it for me??? I’m awfully hurt.” The man rolls his eyes. She sticks her tongue out in response. “Alright, alright. But I’m warning you, if the prices don’t go down, someone’s gonna shoplift sooner or later.”

“Really? And go through all that trouble for this piece of crap store? I doubt it.”

“Not like this is the only place that sells booze. Meh, be glad I’m such a law-abiding citizen, though~. Shouldn’t I deserve an award or something?”

“If you’re the one paying for it.”

“Awwww~. But I thought I’ve paid enough, hun,” She playfully winks. 

“I literally don’t have the budget.”

“Geh. Everyone here is so stingy,” she complained. She grabs a pack of her signature liquor, lackadaisically dragging it to the counter. It licks fire into one’s mouth, All Day Fire Fresh!

“Took your sweet time, huh? Aren’t you ever afraid of getting alcohol poisoning?”

“Really, this again? You know I’m all about the thrill. It’s all or nothing!” she giggles. She quickly takes her phone out and pays the bill. “See you tonight… or what?”

“Still thinkin’.”

“Stop saying this all the time and I’ll actually believe you. Alright~, bye bye now~,” she waves casually. She carries the bottle firmly while slowly gesturing to her lionberger. “C’mere big boy! C’mere~, we’re going now.” The large brown dog whined before getting up, slowly following his owner to the door of the shop.

Cring! How peculiar, the bell rang again. It seems that today had brought 150% the usual customer count. It was a purple-haired student with mean eyes and a guarded stance. The student glanced around furtively before running quickly inside. Her footsteps were scattered, seemingly uncalculated, her breaths were choppy, seemingly anxious of something. The owner immediately recognized the student.

“Hey dearie, what’s up?” she crossed her hands.

There wasn’t a reply when the purple-haired student rammed herself straight into the woman. She simply opened her eyes in realisation. 

“S-sorry,” the student apologized, head bowing. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Alright, if that’s what you say~,” the woman shrugged. “Just make sure to be more careful next time. I doubt other people will be as considerate and kind as I am toward your behavior. Just a heads up~!” The girl nodded stiffly, showing her gratefulness, before running out the door. The woman shifted back toward the shop counter, where the cashier had laid down yet again. “Oh yeah, I’ve decided to take a can of beer, for Sae-chan of course.”

“I’m not giving you a freebie.”

“Wow, the things I do for my beloved friends.” 

The woman rolled her eyes before returning to pay at the counter.

{CHAPTER 3} She Loved Skipping Stones By The Sea.

There was once a house of glass, thin walls and windows. A family lived there once, an eidolon of light as it conquered the sun within the morning. All eyes, all eyes on you. Lives, achievement, records, ingrained upon blades of gold. Ethereal light shining upon the great sea, glimmer of gold and pearl. Never wake, never wake. Not when the rain returns, incensing maple wood. Not when the glass shatters, hitting the cold ground. Don’t shatter the silent, brittle glass walls. Yet when no more pebbles are to be found, you will find that there is nothing else to break, nowhere to go. 

When you look closely, the night scene is really quite beautiful despite the heavy smog. The stars of the city blink and flicker like uneasy fireflies throughout the fading fog. The moon itself is enough to highlight the ebb and flow of quiet waves, uneager to shatter the silence. Even before nightfall, the sunset is quite beautiful. Despite the cloudless noon, the wind began to blow the clouds over the island, fluffy and white. The clouds, they’re most striking at the golden dusk, large hunks of honey roast ham, pork loin; roasted marshmallows, oozing with caloric joy. The ocean is a golden chicken stock, a perfect base for a soup, or a hotpot meal for those too tired. And as the sun quickly sets, the meat is grilled a filling medium, the lingering smoke floating beyond your willing gaze. Within a blink, the ocean basin is an empty bowl; dark and incorporeal. It has become a maw of blood and ink. What will you drink now, a toast to the end of another fateful day?

The rubber top is forcefully pulled off and set aside, a little stained with the corpses of fruit. The hopeful girl steadily pours into glass cups, the vibrant and thick smoothie. A base of whole milk, with an assortment of diced strawberries, peaches, and persimmon, a dash of ginger, and of course, tons of ice cubes. They’re cold to the touch; the girl nervously smooths her shirt before taking a delicate sip. She licks her lips. Her friends, overloaded in anticipation eagerly await her review.

“W-what do you think?” A timid and soft voice.

“C’mon, what’s it taste like?!” Eager and fierce.

“It’s…” Sweet and tenacious.

The kettle begins to wheeze, steam coming out the top. A tray of porcelain cups is set on the chabudai, a clear teapot in the center. As the boiling water is poured into it, a silent explosion of color occurs, as the leaves scatter. The tea is a deep, rich maroon, powerful in its bitter, filling flavor. The purple-haired boy, trying not to burn himself, uses his sleeves to pour it into a cup, before taking a small sip. He sighs happily, feeling the warmth traverse through his body as he rests on his bed.

“How nice…”

The velvet ribbon of the night wraps the hemisphere tightly around, shielding it from the white world beyond. The birds swimming through the starry sea, stealthy concealed their screeching, drifting like the dainty strokes of a paintbrush. Then, there was a dim sphere of light, the streetlamp, and next to it stood an old vending machine, shivering with vigor. With three clean clicks of a button, a scan of the phone, a cool can of soda drops from the shelf, creating a loud, permeating clunking noise. The brown-haired boy curiously picks it up, opening it with a fizz. He takes a small sip, then a large one, gurgling the drink within his mouth.

“It’s weird… am I supposed to drink it like this?”

The young woman returned to her desolate purgatory, documents aflutter across her shabby desk, she put on a red cotton cloak, sinking into her chair. She takes a glass cup, pouring a sparse amount of a clear liquid. This is enough to set her life ablaze, again and again. 

Yet even before the dawn of this clarity, a lone man walks the arduous path. He is a detached spirit haunting an unfamiliar body. One mindless step after another, one step closer to the other end. The buildings slowly slide past him, fading into a pleasant wilderness; solitude. And then it appears, a humble shack within the trees, a bicycle leaning on it. A frantic girl running out.

.

.

.

“I know what you’ve done,” came a stern male voice.

The purple-haired girl immediately froze from her pursuit back to the first-year dorms. It was relatively far from the convenience store, along the scenic route circumnavigating the whole island. Her eyes subconsciously widened, though she composed herself as she turned around to meet the accuser. Within her mind, her next course of action was already formulated, though it came as a surprise that she got caught so quickly. Even more so by an unknown student, who, coincidentally had arrived at this very location. She simply maintained a casual shock, as someone who had been falsely accused of a crime.

“Listen here, buddy I haven’t done anything,” she argued defensively. “I don’t know if you’re here for some sort of reward or anything, but just know that I don’t want any part of it.”

He raised an eyebrow at her dramatic display of denial. “So you, an innocent student, just so happens to go to an isolated store, then dash out without buying anything?? These very events are already quite suspicious by themselves, aren’t they? Your response doesn’t help either.”

The girl narrowed her eyes. “You’re bluffing. I doubt you’ve actually seen anything that’s happened in the store, so how can you just arbitrarily assume I did something wrong?”

“Really? Want to test my hand?” the man’s voice got quieter as he taunted the student.

“Are you threatening me? Because if so, you’re doing a really bad job.” The girl rolled her eyes.

The man let go of his intimidating stare, quickly chuckling at her. “I mean, I have the video of you doing it, as well as witnesses.” He shook his phone tauntingly. The girl considered her next lines; the man’s claims seemed concrete, bolstered by the man’s confident demeanor. “And by tomorrow, there’ll undoubtedly be rumors, of a girl in Class 1A, Kamuro Masumi, who had the gall to shoplift a can of beer for the simple enjoyment of it.”

Her eyes widened. The unknown student knew her name, knew the very thing she was hiding in her pocket. But why hadn’t she seen him earlier? How did he record the video? But that didn’t matter anyway. Even if the man didn’t have the video proof, the fact that there weren’t many customers would give her identity away; the circumstantial evidence would be enough to paint her guilty. “Your school life would be over. Simple as that.”

“Well what do you want?” she resigned. “Points? Service?”

“I’m a nice guy, so all I’ll ask of you is a why,” he spoke, while reaching his hand out. Kamuro glanced suspiciously at it, before flicking her gaze quickly at her pocket, hesitant to know his true intentions. “And for you to return what you stole.”

“Really? That’s it? I doubt that,” she sneered. 

“Listen, as someone who’s been at this school for some time, I’ve gained a sympathy for my kouhais. If I were caught shoplifting on the very second day and expelled, I would most certainly jump off a bridge and kill myself. Sure, I’m not a benevolent person, but sympathetic to your situation.”

“...Okay?...Weirdo.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’m now also asking for 10,000 points, how about it?” he negotiated. 

“Pfft. Fine, no points though,” Kamuro relents, taking out the beer can, warm from her body heat. The man quickly snatches it from her hand, examining the metal. “Happy now? So how are we even going to return it?”

The man remained silent, not even looking at her.

“We are returning it, yeah?” she nervously interrogated.

“Just put all the blame on me if anything about this beer can comes around,” he replied simply.

“...So why are we still standing here?” She was restless to leave, yet unable to trust that the blame wouldn’t be thrust on her. Just as she was about to shift her heel… “Shouldn’t we—”

Click! The tab of the beer can had been pulled back, releasing the carbonized air. Without hesitation, the unknown student took a massive swig of drink. “AUHOUdsofhsidfhdf….” he burped in satisfaction. “Hits the spot.” He glanced at the stunned girl, mouth hanging a smidge open, quickly giving way to anger. “What’re you standing here for? Go away now. Shoooo.” He dismissively waved his hand at her. She clenched her fists, kicking him in the shin in frustration. The student staggered in pain, some fizzy liquid spilling out of the can. “Okay, what the fuck, man?!”

“So what was with this whole ‘I’m so smart and mysterious’ act?” She dramatically gestured with her hands. “You really did it just for some free beer?” she spat. “You know how bad it actually tastes, right?”

“An opportunity for free beer is an opportunity for free beer. And what’s so bad about beer?”

“You know it’s literally illegal, right? You’re going to get into loads of trouble if this ever comes out. By bringing your phone here, your location has been tracked.”

“Whoa, so you’re all of a sudden considerate of me? How nice. Don’t worry, I haven’t even set it up yet so it should be A-OK.”

“That’s not how it– ughhh…” Kamuro grumbled, facepalming at her fumble. She heaved another breath to keep her emotions in control. “What’s your name by the way?”

“You actually want to know my name? I’m touched,” the man spoke in jest, placing a palm on his heart. “But no, you’re not getting it from me.”

“Well, I don’t trust you… and if you are truly sympathetic to my situation, you would most definitely give me some sort of way to contact you. I mean, I bet if you were in this situation, you’d also want the same thing, and threaten to certainly jump off a bridge and kill yourself otherwise.”

“Shit reasoning, get better,” the man drawled before taking another sip of the beer. 

“Why can’t I at least know the name of someone who threatened to bring about the end of my school career? It’s my right to know,” she protested again, crossing her arms.

“Honesty is a virtue, y’know.” 

The purple-hair quickly opened her mouth to bite back, but quickly hesitated from a tightness within her chest. The boy began to take slow steps toward the opposite end of the island, with buildings, shops, and institutions. The scraping of the silt and small rocks along the unpaved road made crisp sounds under his feet. The trees elegantly reached toward the sky, as if attempting to soak in the golden nectar of the setting sun. Colors of yellow and purple dance along the ocean surface, as it becomes the expansive ballroom of waltzing light. Kamuro considered leaving him, yet she sighs—whether out of weariness or obligation—and jogged after him. The ocean panned out to their side, the island’s edges marked by innocuous waves washing up on shores tiny pebbles.

The man paused, gazing out toward the sun. Sometimes a boy, often older. A timid girl’s hair is pulled back from hitting her face as a blade of wind cuts through the air, glowing a mahogany red. She bites her lip. Sunk-cost fallacy had been pulling her toward him, yet she felt the task had grown terribly out of her league. There is a kind of fire in his eyes; the sun’s glare. Right. It wasn’t worth it anymore. She turns her heel to move forward… then spins back again. There’s a reason why she’s a good-for-nothing shoplifter.

“Ermm, hey,” she spoke quietly, yet a little more rigid than she had hoped. “You probably have your reasons, just like I have mine.” The man didn’t respond, yet didn’t retort either. She huffed. “Okay, I get that there’s some shit going on, but you don’t have to be so dramatic about it. Gazing wistfully at the sea doesn’t make you look deep or tragic, it makes you look stupid! Sure, we may have just met, but keeping it bottled up will only make the catharsis even worse…” She paused, trying again to summon some smooth, singing voice within her scratchy throat. “So just tell me what’s been bothering you, and then I’ll leave you alone.” She was about to continue with an ‘Even your name is enough’ then recoiled in disgust.

The man sighed. “I had a long, horrid dream, don’t you hate those?”

“You mean nightmares?”

“No– well maybe. It started out like a nightmare, then I learned to cherish it… didn’t want to let it go. Then I woke up…to…to……” He raises the can of beer into the sky, drinking it so ravenously, as if it were the sole thing keeping him alive.

“What?” the girl hissed.

“...reality,” the boy continued. “That’s all it is –has to be– now. And the worst part is that I can’t tell if it was real. I wish it were. There was hatred and shame… loads of it, but also… love, and joy, and reasons…”

“It— life…” she struggled to form the right words for this moment, “it never lived up to your expectations, did it? Most people act as if it does anyway.”

“So that’s why you shoplift, huh?” 

Her face soured as she jabbed at the boy’s ribs. “You’re really being pushy with all these assumptions.”

“Most of which are true…”

“Keh! Well, are you done telling your shit yet?”

“I don’t even know why you’re staying here.”

“…I’m sorry, alright?”

“There’s no need to be.”

The man wandered off the path, only a few feet away from the oscillating waves. The can was set down. He gingerly bent to gather a handful of pebbles, warm and burning his hands. “Pebbles… so many fucking pebbles here,” he grumbled.

Another ribbon of wind lashed out at the edge of the island. The pebbles were the shape of tiny, round pellets; like cake sprinkles. Red, green, blue. Red red red. The man clenched his fists, taking a lunge at the ocean, spraying the minuscule rocks into the shallow sea. Each penetration was a high-pitched noise, an airy flute melody. He laughed. 

The girl arched her eyebrow. “Suddenly waging a war against the sea?”

Again, another throw. 

“So you just have regular manic episodes, is that it?!”

Again. Again. The faint song ever so fleeting. The man was too absorbed in his desperation to listen to her remarks. 

“Alright what the hell are you on now?!” the girl screamed, attempting to gain his attention. “You’re one mess of a person, and you really need to get your shit together!”

His arm was arched back, poised to unleash another inconsequential onslaught. “The fuck did you just say to me?!”

“I’m telling you that you need to get professional help! And this is coming from a goddamn shoplifter!”

His eyes narrowed and twitched, as his arm slowly moved to his side. He took a few shaken breaths. “You… do have a point. But I doubt whatever higher up over here would even allow the thought of therapy to contaminate this shithole.”

“So out of reality that you can’t fathom that you’re just a shitty, short-tempered nobody?”

The boy kicked the ground a final time. “Fine, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Yet she still stood firmly, gazing at the student’s pathetic figure. 

The sun had halfway dipped into the sea, the shadow of night had already begun creeping. Warmth is fleeting; fleeing from death. 

“It’s getting late, and a long way back to the dorms.”

“I’ll stay here awhile.”

“How nice… well I’ll be going now…”

“Takahashi. It’s Takahashi Hito. You deserve that, at the very least.” Her eyes widened at his statement, as she repeated the name within her head. “It’s all you’ve wanted from me, right?”

“That’s not—” She sighed. “Ugh, goodbye, Takahashi.”

And she turned her back. Gone was the sun.

;;;~~~

“Hey, Ichi-chan.” I tapped her shoulder. “The cooking club’s… put on quite the show, haven’t they?” I giggled, awaiting her response.

“It seems the school’s even lax on the club presentations,” Mina-chan added.

Ichi-chan contemplated carefully, as she always did before giving her answers. “I’m surprisingly hoping that this isn’t actually the case,” she giggled nervously. “But the cooking part sounds great. Are any of you guys interested in joining?”

“I mean, are you?” I asked.

She softly bit her lip. “Well I’m first going to sign up for the student council, since I really want to improve certain quality of life features. If I have the time or don’t get accepted, I’ll definitely join you guys.”

“Awww~, Ichi, it’s fine. I was just entertaining the idea. Who needs the club when we could just cook in our rooms? Sure, there mightn’t be any of the fancy stuff they listed, but that’s totally superfluous! If there’s time tonight, I’ll show you how to make the Mako-chan certified special!”

We resumed our attention to the next club presentation, it was the tea ceremony and literature club. The pair of representatives seemed a little shy and soft-spoken, but delivered their lines with quiet pride. “Hello everyone,” a female brown-haired senpai spoke. “We are the literature and tea ceremony club merged into one, where readers, aspiring writers, and tea connoisseurs congregate and discuss books and write our own works. We will also be exploring the different styles of tea ceremony as the ritual of reading is conducted. We meet up within a private reserved area within the library near the dorms, with filtered sunlight and beautiful, calm zephyrs on the weekends. We hope people of similar hobbies will join us…”

“Ichinose,” I quietly nudged her after the speech. “Do you think it’s possible that the two clubs merged together to get enough members for presentational eligibility?”

“Hmmm?” she chuckled. “Slow down now.”

“Well, not all clubs are given the spotlight on stage, like there are more booths around the gym than the amount of clubs presenting. It probably has to get enough members or enough points to pay for this moment, which explains why it isn’t only the tea ceremony or the literature club, yeah?”

“You have keen observations, Mako,” she applauded. “Say, if there was a certain incentive that made it better if clubs had more members, or for students to join clubs, it would make sense that so many larger clubs, like the sports ones want members despite having enough players on the team.”

“It would make more sense if the more members there were, the more funding they received, I guess.”

“But the club leaders get to decide where the funding goes, right? So it doesn’t absolutely have to go toward the club?”

Ichinose went deep into thought. “It probably wouldn’t work like like, but even if it isn’t enforced properly, I don’t completely get why someone would go through the effort of doing this. Unless, of course, the everything that points buy includes immaterial benefits.”

“Say, do points allow us to use cheat sheets during test taking?” Bashi-chan joked. “Is that why they’re so into hoarding points?”

“There must be a stricter criteria to counteract this, I think. I mean, I doubt the school would make earning points this easy,” Ichi-chan spoke uneasily.

“Meh, but are any of y’all still joining clubs?” I redirected.

“That swimming guy has got quite the physique,” Mina purred. “I might join the swimming club to laze around, provide additional emotional and financial support.”

“Mina…” Ichi sighed, giggling. 

“Bashi, girl, stop side-eyeing me like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“There’s going to be swimming classes coming around, right? I’m kind of excited!”

“Awh! Well I’m most certainly not as audacious!” She put her hands out on her hips in confrontation.

“Yeah! I bet I could do the 50m faster than you~!”

I sighed silently, following Ichi-chan’s gaze. Her mouth opened into a smile as she found our fellow classmates. “Yo~ Shiba-kun!” she greeted aloud. “How were registrations?” 

“I’ve signed up… for the tryouts,” he sighed. “Which I hopefully pass!”

“You’ve got this, for sure!” Then an idea lit up in her head, I could see it in her eyes. “Turbocharge?” she eagerly asked, two hands ready with pointers out. She and Shibata screamed out as their fingers touched; it was like with the whole heart trend: making a large heart with another person.

“Yeah! I’ve definitely got this!” Shibata pumped his fists. “Y’know, Ichinose, thanks a lot for everything.”

“It’s nothing, just what anyone else would do!” she giggled. She brushed back a strand of hair, making herself effortlessly more dazzling.

“Dear god, is that the stoic rizzler over there?” 

Huh?

I looked to my left into another large crowd of students. Amongst the brown, I spotted a dot of violet and black hair. It was Kanzaki-kun, his back facing us. And before him was a slightly shorter girl, with pale skin and red eyes. They seemed to be narrowing at something. She was also tightly hugging some notebook, standing absolutely still. Wait… is that a Horikita?!

“Shibata, don't you recognize her?!” I blurted out.

“Who now?”

“That’s Horikita!” I shouldn’t have said it like that, like it was obvious, yet out it flew. “Em, my bad, I just saw them in a news article recently.”

“She’s from a big shot family? Whoa,” he muttered under his breath. “Now that I look at her again, she does hold herself up like one of ’em nobles.”

It was as if this reveal shook the very foundations of our brains, despite not even knowing she came here in the first place. Kobashi and Minamikata quieted down after hearing my outburst, looking in the same direction. Mina was the first to break the silence.

“Check her out, she certainly commands herself highly. I could honestly take some tips from her.”

“Her gaze is certainly imposing,” Ichinose observed in a very quiet voice. “I wonder if they’ve met before.” She turned toward me. “What was the article about, by the way?”

“It was a mini-controversy on their new line of… um, luxury compasses. There’s somehow a dedicated market to that, though I don’t know much else of what they do.”

She bit back on her giggles before heading in Kanzaki’s direction. The Horikita girl sent him one final glare before stalking back to where she came from. 

We returned our attention back to the stage. We probably missed a club or two from our side convos. Then a singular man walked out from backstage. Despite being average in height, he had fierce, intimidating red eyes. I swallowed, I could tell he was the leader type. But he didn’t open his mouth; he just stood there menacingly(!). I heard several students around me laugh. 

“Did you forget to bring notecards?”

“What, got cold feet?”

They quickly silenced themselves, feeling the pressure from both the rigid audience and his sheer presence. His eyes swept around the auditorium, as if sizing up each and every one of us. I was holding my breath, not daring to interrupt him. He opened his mouth, delivering his speech in a quiet, yet powerful manner. No stops, no errors. I couldn’t help but feel gravitated toward his presence. My heart beat faster and faster, almost ripping out of my chest. He was the centerpiece of the room. Even when he finished, we were petrified puppets. As he strode out of the gymnasium, my body relaxed.

“Whoa… pure aura,” Shibata chuckled nervously. 

“Eek! Is this gonna be you, next year?” Kobashi chirped excitedly. She cleared her throat, holding her head high and eyes narrowed. “Ahem, bask in my superiority you foolish peasants, I humbly beseech that thine divine reckoning for breaking rules shalt be a hard spanking.” She slapped her hand outward as she spoke.

“Oh please, he’s very polite in his words. Though he somehow gives off the impression that he could slam everyone in a fight,” Ichinose shuddered, though she was staring at where Mr. President was standing on stage. 

“I can imagine him re-rehearsing this speech countless times in front of a mirror. I’m sure Nami-chan is ready to take him on, right?” Minamikata joked.

“I would most certainly die of cringe and edginess before I polished it up.”

“Hey there bestie~, which clubs did you check out?”

“There were just so many —eek! But you better check out the art club, their boo—”

“Oh, Mako-chan!” Ichinose’s sweet voice called out to me. “You seemed a little dazed, are you alright? I can’t blame you though.”

No, I wasn’t dazed. 

“It’s fine, Ichi-chan. I was just trying to process the whole thing,” I reassured her. “So you’re joining the student council, yes?”

“You know me~.” She winked at me playfully. “I’m all about searching for improvements.”

“There’s no way you don’t get in. Well~,” Mina-chan tilted her head like she was deep in thought, “on the upside, we get to have Nami all for Class B!” She bounced up and down, all giddy like a little kid. “Yah hear that Kaori-chan? No worries, Nami, we’ll still fully support your decision!”

Huh? A trio of my classmates appeared out of thin air, okay, maybe I wasn’t paying that much attention but I most definitely wasn’t zoning out. 

“Hey, Ichinose.” It was a boy’s voice. “I just came here to say that you totally have the skills and brains to get into the council and that even though Mr. Prez almost made me shit my pants, you shouldn’t be intimidated!”

Nami gave a wide smile. “Oh my god, thanks so much!” she squealed. 

“Nah, just doing my due.” 

“Alright, it's about time for me to head there now, thanks again!”

“Just wishing you a little bit of luck.”

She turned to me. “It might take awhile.” 

“Good luck!” I spoke with enthusiasm. I also made sure to put on my certified assuring smile.

Nami smiled back and slowly walked away. 

“Sayo-chan! How’s the volleyball club looking?” I could still hear her voice in the distance. But I quickly turned my attention to something else.

“Heya, Kanzaki!” I waved. “Interested in any clubs?”

;;;

Pluck! Plock! One skip.

Plick! Plock! Plick-plick! Pluck! Four. 

There weren’t many large stones capable of this — the pebbles were also far too small. The man was about to search for another along shore, before he heard someone approaching from behind. It was a woman on the bike, zoning out as she pedaled forward. Then she glanced to the shore, spotting a generic brown-haired brown-eyed student in his school uniform. A crushed can of beer was spilt over a distance away. The tires screeched to a halt.

“Yahoo~ dearie, it’s getting late now, d’you need a ride back to the dorms?” she called out to him. “I could notify a bus driver for you. Or~ I wouldn’t mind riding on you while sharing my bike.”

The student lazily registered her existence. “Oh, hey.”

She propped her bike on a tree before walking off the path. “If I may, what’s your name and class?”

“What kind of a teacher are you? I feel like you’re going to molest me.”

“Awh!” The teacher put her hand on her heart, eyes drooping downward. “How could you just say that?! I’m awfully hurt. And all I’m doing is providing my services.”

“Prostitution?”

She crossed her arms angrily, pointing accusingly at the student with a free arm. “I would hit you so hard right now, but I don’t feel like getting prosecuted. I’m just doing my duty as a teacher to ensure students’ safety.”

“You don’t recognize me?”

“Well I apologize for not memorizing each and every minute detail of every single student!”

“As a teacher who really cares about student safety, I’m the humble Takahashi Hito of Class 1B… The guy in your homeroom who’s been absent two days in a row?”

Her mouth opened and closed. “Oh, you were the kid that had vomiting problems on the bus, or so I’m told. Am I correct to assume so, Takahashi-kun? And… you were the one who…?” She struggled to recall. “You…”

“I assaulted Miss Friendship, yes.”

“Oh yeah, that,” she deadpanned, then muttered, “I should’ve known you were trouble.”

“Since no one’s accusing, I’m not getting punished, am I?”

Her eyes widened again. “You would be correct... Did your dear classmates inform you of that?”

“Oh!” he let out in surprise. “...yes. Yes they did.”

“Okay~.” She gave a playful side-eye. “Well it’s time to head back to civilization; I’ll phone up a ride.”

A gap of silence, broken by bird-song and tranquil waves. The woman had managed to gain her third headache of the day—courtesy of Takahashi— and was now angrily pacing around the pebble-sand shore. The boy resumed his mission in searching for a large, flat stone along the pathway.

“What’re you looking for?” the woman grumbled. She began to pull at her creamy brown hair, curling her hair even more between her fingertips.

The boy paused, half-crouched on the pebbles. “Well, sensei, have you ever skipped stones before?”

“I actually used to live incredibly inland, never got the chance or reason to try things like that,” she sheepishly admitted. “You’re interested in this?”

“It’s good to cleanse boredom.”

“Alright, I’ll try it.” She sighed.

The student stalked toward another length of the pathway before scraping to find two decent stones. They were flat, yet smooth and circular. How did they even get here, anyway? The woman was too tired to say anything, simply following along. 

“So, for me, I would hold it with my thumb and pointer, the key is to get it to spin.”

The woman nodded, lunging her right arm back and releasing it similar to a spinning disc. Plick! Pluck! It bounced once before sinking. She celebrated her small victory by clapping her hands together, then hastily snatched the other stone from the student’s hand. She threw it yet again as the waves came flowing in. Plick! Plock! Pluck! Twice. Despite wasting two perfectly good stones to throw into the sea, she felt an odd sense of satisfaction within her actions. 

“…and that’s about all the suitable stones I could scavenge over here,” he muttered. “You know what? I think this interaction is actually really weird without context.”

“Psh! You were the one who initiated it~,” she joked. “Please, we’re two strangers getting to know each other and happen to be single.”

…

“Pedophile.”

“Oh, right.” She stared at the boy strangely. “Our ride should be coming any minute now, I’ll just go to the store real quickly—tell him to wait for me~!” She quickly waltzed away.

Takahashi sighed. He shivered, refusing to inch closer to the road. Just be back quickly. 

The night encroached upon the island; it was as if ink were spilling from heaven. The thin trees faded into hazy lines in the darkness. In the distance, two bright rays of light ignited the rocky road, a faint rumbling engine. The boy looked away and shut his ears. He let his eyelids shut, waiting for someone to reach him. 

“Takahashi-kun, the car’s come~.” It was a woman’s voice, though he could smell the booze first. She tapped him on the shoulder, then reached for his hand. “What’s up? You’re acting all weird.”

He blinked twice. “No. No, …just waiting around doing nothing,” he mumbled quietly. He clenched her fist closely to her surprise as they approached the van.

“Whoa~, now this is totally your fault if I ever get pedo allegations,” she teased. “Hmph! Too bad you’re far too bland for my taste. Heheh.”

The van parked to the side as the passenger doors opened. It was a modest 4-person seater with comfy, black leather seats. The student sucked in a deep breath before heading into the back row as the woman confidently pulled the front door open. She dismissively demanded the opening of the trunk before guiding her bike toward the back. In the driver seat sat a striking young man in his late twenties, a mop of well-combed grey hair and hardened eyes. His large, rough hands rested on the steering wheel, green eyes staring intently at the front mirror to observe the unscrupulous woman shoving her bike into the small trunk. They were sunken and wrinkled, marking the long, diligent hours he’d worked throughout the years.

As the student settled in the seat, he flicked his gaze toward the boy. “Hello, young man. Hoshinomiya didn’t do anything reckless, I hope?” His voice was deep and earthy, giving a warm feeling. It was welcoming and gentle as he spoke.

“No, she was fine.” 

The student began to fiddle with his uniform, tugging at his sleeves.

“If I may, what’s your name?”

The fidgeting stopped as the boy’s gaze remained down on his sleeves. “I’m… Tokito.”

The driver heaved a sigh. “I was asking to be courteous. But I think any teacher in your year would inevitably recognize your face, Takahashi-kun, considering recent events.”

“Oh.”

“I… just wanted to let you know that despite the lack of therapeutic staff coupled with an emphasis on the lack of teacher interference, I firmly believe that a great deal of students—including yourself—require it. Some form of therapy, I mean.”

“Well I’m sorry for hitting a girl,” he spoke defensively.

“Yes, but the factors that led up to you making that very decision should be discussed and dealt with.” He sighed, mumbling,“I honestly can’t understand the higher up’s thought process behind these admissions.”

The woman, Hoshinomiya, suddenly jumped into the shotgun seat, giggling as she did. “Hehe~, to the student dorms we go~!!!”

“How many times have I told you this, Hoshinomiya?” he sighed wearily. “I can’t always be your personal chauffeur.”

“I’m sorry, Tomonari-nari~,” she hiccuped. “But we’re besties, right? She edged her sumptuous chest closer toward his face. “Right?”

The man simply turned the engine on and began driving. “I’d be glad to pay for your retirement.”

“Y-you really want to abandon me?! You’re my best friend though…hehhk.”

Tomonari used one hand to pry Hoshinomiya off of his body while keeping the other on the wheel. “This is blatant harassment. You would be doing everyone in ANHS an insurmountable favor by taking a break and self-reflecting off-campus.”

“Does she regularly harass people like this?”

“I’d wish to say no, but your sensei is an incredibly flippant person.”

“Nari-nari…! Do you think soooooo lowly of meeeeee-hic!” The woman had resorted to leaning against the car window to keep upright. The two males promptly ignored her.

“Do you accept questions?” the student interrogated innocently. “Since… I’m a ‘late’ arrival.”

“To the best of my ability, of course. I doubt your… teacher…had allowed you this chance, correct?”

“Yeah so how old are you by the way?”

The man coughed in surprise. “Well, I’m old enough and authorized for a teaching position.”

Hoshinomiya attempted another drunken tease; she was, of course, ignored again.

“How vague.”

“You are free to ask any questions related to this institution… not personal questions,” the teacher clarified.

“Never mind then,” he gazed warily out the window before adding on. “But you do look really old. If therapy were an option, I would recommend you be the first to try it out.”

“You’re a daring young man, aren’t you?” Tomonari sighed. “I’ll just shut my mouth from now on.”

The journey was slow; the unpaved gravel underneath provided a bumpy ride. Hoshinomiya sank casually into the leather chair, loudly thumping the car window with her finger. Takahashi gazed emptily at the passing fields, periodically greeted with a flickering streetlight. But he wasn’t looking, lost inside himself. Buildings, taller and taller, began to sprout from the ground. Neon lighting and bright signs propped themselves atop various stores and restaurants; Keyaki Mall was alive and well as always. He parked the car to the side of the road.

“I realize you must not have any food back in your dorm room, so I’ll drop you here instead, is this alright with you? [Fumihara’s Udon] is a decent yet cost-effective little restaurant.”

“Thanks, Ma—er, sensei. But I haven’t set up a card yet, so… what now?”

“ANHS uses mobile payment as its main source of transactions. Once you set up your phone— it should be a standard procedure—the banking app will take care of all financial functions for simplicity. The servers are kind enough to help if need be. You should have a hundred thou—”

“Yeah, I know that. Thanks a lot, man.”

“Hoshinomiya explained the S-System to you without any information on how to use points?”

“She’s literally drunk. Probably only bothered to tell me the most important part of it.”

“Noo~, as an incredibly responsible teacher, I would’ve never missed that out in a million years!” she protested.

“Good night, then, Takahashi-kun. Best of luck on your journey. The bus comes, top of the hour to the left of the entrance.”

The student flicked a handle, pushing the car door open. It was breezy and cold now, the air freezing his skin over. He looked back at the tired man, his large hands resting on the wheel. “You know, you must be an amazing teacher. Actually giving a damn about shit. Have a great night as well.”

His aged eyes softened as he smiled. “I do what I can. Stay out of trouble, alright?”

“’Course.”

He shut the door and headed toward the lights.

~~~

I took Mashima’s recommendation since it was near the entrance. It was a little hut to the right, with cream-brown walls woven with some dried bark. Red lanterns hung as lights from the ceiling, and there were random potted orchids sitting around everywhere. The seats were sleek and modern with their black and white cushions, but the lacquered tables were sierra-colored maple wood. Several NPCs looked to be chatting with one another but no words were coming out –just noise. The waitress was young as a highschooler, though her brown hair was uniquely tied into a bun. She stood nervously with a clipboard and pen at the entrance podium, jumping up in surprise at a customer. 

“I'm looking for a semi-formal but quick meal, miss. Is this the right place?”

“Are you in a hurry of some kind sir?”

“No, just don’t wanna spend too much time waiting. Can I get a bowl of ramen within 10-20 minutes?”

“It would depend on the order, but… yes, generally.”

I headed toward a small two-person table by the window, but it wasn’t like there was anything to see outside other than darkness. I took out my phone which had been in my pant pocket, it was sleek and black, unopened. I held down the power button, looking away in case there was a blinding opening screen. It look a few seconds to open up, yet it seemed to already register who I was. The words: [Welcome, User S01T005451 >> Takahashi Hito] were displayed. It took me to another tab explaining its Privacy Policy and ToS –which I obviously skipped–, then to a facial recognition setup. This was standard back in my verse, but if I’m remembering correctly, this series began in 2015, so how did this technology weave its way into here? Also, they used cards to pay for stuff, right? Not mobile payment. Well, this ‘world’ is hardly a world anyway, more like an incomplete reality. Makes enough sense to me. 

It was 6:26 PM. I tapped the screen again. One password input later and I was done with setting up my phone. The [Online Finance] along with this other one called [ANHS Community] were the first two apps on screen, such creative names. Then were were the [Settings], [App Store] and [Messages]. Standard stuff. I slipped my hand into my shirt pocket this time, grabbing the little slip of paper Miss Friendship wrote for me at the infirmary. {Ichinose Honami: S01T004620! Don’t forget to add me so I can add you to group chat! <3<3} Even if she’s a fictional character, it’s hard to grasp how extroverted this dang girl is. I’ll do it after I get some actual food today. 

The menu was also digital now, a tablet propped at the edge of the table. I scrolled through the various bowls of noodles, quickly reviewing their descriptions. It wasn’t like the words meant anything to me anyway. Sure, I could now suddenly read the Japanese symbols, but then again, I’ve only had microwaveable Japanese food. I scrolled all the way to the bottom, then ordered the Chef Special: the Curry Udon– I chose mild spiciness. The medium bowl cost 750 points with the freshman discount–is that cheap? Can’t tell. The lone waitress brought a glass of ice-cold water with a quarter of a lemon propped on the side. 

“Thank you for your order, this one will take about 15 minutes. In the meantime, would you like anything else with your order?”

“No, I’m unfortunately stingy.” And I’m not giving you a tip.

“Ah–” she let out in surprise. “Alright then.”

Great, more waiting. The bland chatter faded as I focused on the untouched window pane. I tried to find the line between the trees and the sky, yet it all seemed like one large cloud. The crimson red lanterns of the restaurant set wildfires onto the landscape. I sucked in a large breath for the nth time today as my thoughts drifted onto a familiar topic. So was this world real now? What it has to be? I doubt if I asked it again tomorrow, I would get closer to the answer. More like it doesn’t matter. We’re just fools, running around on an island that’ll sink the moment an earthquake hits Mainland Japan. It might even be coming in the next few months, perhaps next year. But we’ll just grasp onto whatever’s left, wouldn’t we? Even if the ocean eats everything up. Even if that’s nothing at all. 

I should perhaps be feeling something more at what I did. Yet funnily enough, I don’t. No tears fall for a dead lamb, none for lifeless puppets. I did it because I valued my life.

The udon came in a large, black bowl with a red interior. The noodles were thick and a little yellowish, soaked in a creamy, soup base. Atop sat two halves of boiled eggs, their yolks still runny like liquid gold. There were juicy cuts of chicken alongside spring onions and roast slices of lotus root. I grabbed myself a pair of chopsticks and a soup spoon from the small cabinet. Yea, I know how to use chopsticks. What about it? As I brought the noodles to my lips, I blew at it slightly before taking a tentative bite. The noodles seemed to be absolutely infused with the sweet and rich curry base; they were incredibly thick and chewy in my mouth, satisfying to eat. The sprinkled scallion garnish along with the lotus root added a little sourness and crunch to the noodles, and the egg yolk just elevated the richness. Well, this would be the first official meal of the day, and maybe it was due to starvation, but it was simply phenomenal. Perhaps, it was because it couldn’t have been anything else. I piled up another set of noodles onto my soup spoon before shoving it greedily into my mouth. And before I knew, the bowl was empty, and I felt unsatisfied. I thought it would go away after filling myself up {with food}, yet it was still tugging at me. Tugging, tugging. 

It was almost the end of the hour, so I exited the warm wooden room into the bleak night. The bus stop had a standard metal bench to sit on, then a quick map of the ANHS campus on the side. The island here was much larger than I had anticipated –yes, I knew it was large, but Kinu didn’t do much with it– including a full on scenic trail around the island, several sports fields between Keyaki and the school… and then the dorms. But then it occurred to me… there would certainly not be enough buses to fit every single student each morning. Yes, they came every hour, so how early did the upperclassmen wake up to at seats or rides at all? Did they run? That would be a mile-long (or 1.6 European kilometres) trail. If there were indeed enough buses, how many would there need to be? Oh wait, some of them could have bikes. 

The roads here were paved now, lined up with tall columns of trees and greenery. They were cut into round, fuzzy, silhouettes, identical to one another. A few brown-haired upperclassmen were standing around, holding plastic bags filled to the brim with groceries. Their bodies were moving, arms gesticulating wildly, yet I couldn’t make out a word. How funny. Then came another mesh of chatter and footsteps, approaching from behind me.

“Wait, is that Takahashi-kun?”

Huh? I didn’t realize I was popular. Yeesh. I alarmedly looked behind me to see who it was. And there she stood: Miss Friendship and her army of NPCs. I only remember like three characters from Class B, that being Kanzaki, Chihiro, and Ichinose. So yes, it did make sense that several of them sported the brown-hair brown-eye look, but there were three others with distinct hair colors and styles… that I couldn’t recognize. There was a Kei-lite with purple and light blue hair with her hair down –I know she introduced herself but I forgot her name–, a bob-cut with pastel cyan highlights, and a smug girl with twin-buns. Miss Friendship’s entrancing figure stood front and center of my gaze, her blue eyes were wide as she stopped in her tracks. It wasn’t hard to spot the immediate clench of Kei-lite’s fists. Oh God… This will be weird to excuse.

“Errr, hi guys,” I spoke awkwardly as I tried to lift my cheeks to smile. 

“Hiya~,” Buns waved happily at me, screaming, “Did you like our snacks?!” She was quickly elbowed by Bob-cut who quickly interjected. “Ahem… what she meant to ask was: Are you alright now? Nami-chan told me you needed a little space.”

“No, I’m good now. But the snacks were tasty.”

“Great, glad you liked ’em. I can show ’round the whole snack aisle if you’re up to that.” She promptly gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

No thanks.

“Speaking of Nami…” Buns trailed off. 

Ichinose immediately defrosted, jolting to meet her gaze. “Y-yes?!”

This reaction made her eyes sparkle as some –likely ludicrous– misunderstanding went to her head. “Whoa, did something happen between the two of you…?”

Kei-lite didn’t give anyone time to think before jumping the gun and blurting, “Y-yea! Are you sure that you aren’t in l-l-love?! Ichinose?!?!” Her face was twitching, likely with how hard she was trying not to repulse in disgust as her voice became higher in pitch. I sighed before mentally facepalming at the absolute dumbfuckery of the statement. I didn’t realize I was part of a shittily-written rom-com. 

“Uh, I think she forgot something in the mall! C’mon, Takahashi, let’s go help her find it!” 

She forcefully grabbed my arm before dragging me indoors. I spared another glance at the group of girls, noting how Buns sighed. “It’s alright, guys, I won’t pry.”

As we got outside of their hearing range, Kei-lite began to pant and slow down, though never letting go of my arm. 

“You really need to get better at telling excuses. I’m pretty sure the lie was obvious.”

She strengthened her grip. “Well, if you didn’t do what you did, I wouldn’t even need to lie! And you’re standing here like you don’t feel anything!” she growled. 

“Listen, is there really any reason to express guilt when we’re literally trying to hide it?”

Her eyes widened before blinking twice in succession. She steadied her breathing before cotinuining in a calmer voice –even then, she was like a hungry tiger, “Okay, I get that I was acting really rash back there, but that doesn’t excuse anything! I can’t trust someone like you to not do something like that again.”

“You probably won’t ever. But I know the school knows, and that I’ll be stuck here for the next three years anyway, so let it be.”

“But, just promise me you’ll never do something like that again?”

“Whatever makes you feel better, sure.”

The girl sighed, eyes drooping to the ground. “Just… the next time you do it, I won’t try to hide it, no matter what she says.”

I was going to provoke her a little more, but the bus was almost here and I didn’t want to waste the time. We briskly walked back toward the stop where it seemed Ichinose had recovered and was having cordial conversations with the other classmates. 

The bus came as two rays of blinding light, setting off just as quickly as it arrived. Along with some upperclassmen, the girls sat warily in the seats, delighting in small talk. I myself chose a seat in an isolated corner, but Miss Friendship, in her endless enthusiasm, sauntered up to me. Buns glanced between us before smirking.

“What’s up, Ichinose?” she teased. 

“Oh, just checking to see if Takahashi-kun has any questions,” she replied whilst looking back.

“Of course,” she nodded, then looked at me and hollered, “If she’s pestering you too much, just gimme a call.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

“Hey, did you add me yet?” Ichinose nudged me. 

“Yeah.” No.

She gave a quick smile and a thumbs up. “Nice~, ask me if you’re confused about anything.”

“Thanks.” The words came out like a burnt fish, but I at least tried to season it with a thumbs up. “But… are you sure with what you’re doing?” She looked at me strangely. “With keeping secrets ’n all.”

“Oh,” she chuckled before staring out the window. “Well, the way I see it, is that everyone deserves a chance. You… I know you didn’t mean it, didn’t you? And I know you’re sorry for it. We shouldn’t allow horrid first impressions to affect our entire perspective, shouldn’t we?”

“That ideology is gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

“But why not forgive, Takahashi-kun? It’s no use expending energy on hatred, especially if we’re destined to be classmates.”

“I’m not talking about that part, I’m talking of the part where you think everyone deserves a chance.”

“I… get that there are exceptions, but here, we’re all students. We must have been chosen because the staff here saw something in us… that we had the potential to grow and learn, the ability to be nurtured. And I believe, that here, an act of kindness, forgiveness, can do so much. Even in the outside world, you can’t just act as if everyone is a bad, greedy person; no, we’re all born kind inside.”

“What if I wasn’t sorry for my actions?”

She sighed. “I think you’re just looking to argue.”

“People are naturally deceiving. I doubt anyone, anything, is truly honest.”

“Then why… why are you asking?” Her head faced toward me, but her eyes never met my gaze.

“Maybe I thought I would feel more than just… that.”

“I’d forgive you anyway.”

“Like I said, you can’t forgive everyone. It won’t fix everyone.”

She paused and returned her gaze to the black ink of the outside. “But, can’t you just let me believe? Just for now?” Her voice was delicate, as if she were pleading. It was faint, as if carried off by a silent wind. Maybe to her, it was still the height of day. Beliefs, that everyone was inherently good, that everyone could be happy together through kindness. Beliefs, that you were a good person, that your efforts of kindness would ripple across the ocean. 

“But one day, it’ll all be shattered.”

Not today, not now.

“I know.”

Floating, flying, falling. It’s all the same, isn’t it? Until it all comes crashing down.

{CHAPTER 3.5} Let Us Give A Toast To Dreams And Delusions.

“What WHY?!” There was a distressed feminine voice yelling in the dorm lobby. 

“My bad, alright? The deal was too sweet!” A second voice protested.

My male classmate, Takahashi Hito-kun, headed toward the reception counter to receive his overdue keycard. He waved at everyone, said a quick goodbye, and briskly left. I watched as his steps retreated further and further back before snapping it to glance at one smug Mina. 

“Listen, I hate prying into things that make people uncomfortable, but the assumptions in my head are going crazy right now,” she whispered to me. “Wanna give me some info to relieve this particular ailment?”

“Emmm… I don’t think Takahashi-kun would be particularly comfortable,” I replied timidly. Then I quickly regretted my statement. Her eyes lit up as if she understood the message.

“So it’s a secret kind of thing that he has, which you later stumbled upon, yeah? I get it now. I thought it would be something more, intense? My bad!”

“But we all make more of little things, don’t we?” Bashi-chan teased her. “I still don’t understand how you mistook Ami-chan’s actions as ‘suicidal’.”

Her reaction was exaggerated, a trembling hand placed on her heart, a face betraying disbelief. “I-I thought we were over that already~! You’re so mean~ Bashi. Like how else was I supposed to interpret–” She balled her arms into two fists, tilting them upward just as Mako-chan had done in the first day of class. “–with anything but that? Like she honestly looked like she was choking herself,” she whined.

“Oops~. I’m sorry for touching on such an untouchable subject, apologies,” Bashi rolled her eyes playfully.

As we got toward the elevator, the commotion got louder. I immediately recognized the two girls: Kaori-chan and Akiko-chan from our class. I quickly recalled them from my mental notebook. Kaori-chan… she’s on the studious side and Akiko likes cooking. Kaori enjoys hanging out with…… Asako-chan! Kaori was waving her hands wildly as Akiko kept her gestures close to her chest. As to not alarm them, I called out to them from a short distance away.

“Heya! What’s going on?” They huffed and turned to me.

Akiko-chan sighed, crossing her arms and looking away from her friend. “I’m just, really disappointed,” she huffed quietly.

“What happened?”

She stepped to the side, revealing a large crate… filled to the brim with persimmons. Ummm… I’m unsure what to think. There was likely some kind of impetus that led to her buying this… but I just followed up with another question. “Kaori-chan, did you buy it?”

“It was on sale, okay?! 80% off!” she defended herself.

“Ten kilograms, really? They’re probably gonna rot in two days… I’m just stunned at your thought process…” she chuckled sardonically. 

  “We could always give them away.”

“That’s true,” I added. “If you need help with finishing these up, I’m sure our classmates would be delighted with some free fruit. But… ten kilograms is a lot.”

“Ummm… sorry if I’m butting into your conversation, but we could also dry them,” came an external voice. We turned around to be greeted by a petite girl with indigo hair tied into twin ponytails. “I ate lots of dried persimmons back in my grandparents’ house.”

I didn’t recognize her immediately, which meant she was from another class. New people? Awesome! My eyes lit up as I eagerly spoke. 

“Wow! Great idea!”

“Heh… now the problem is that I don’t actually know how to dry them,” the girl sighed as if exhausted by the revelation. “It’ll likely take practice.”

“No worries! We could always consult with an adult or find a tutorial online. Also, you are…?”

“I’m… Wang Mei-yu, but pleased just call me Mii-chan!”

“Nice to meetcha!”

“Hey, we could also sell these at marked-up prices to make a profit,” Kaori added. “...is that too complicated?” She paused to think about her idea. “Yea, I don’t feel like doing allat.”

“Okay, first things first: get them to the dorm room!”

The crate of persimmons was held up by the group, poised as if it were the ultimate treasure chest. With multiple people lifting it up, maneuvering to Kaori-chan’s dorm room was like the journey of a disjointed spider through a narrow pipe. Luckily, the school was incredibly generous with the dorm rooms, with a sleeping area, study desk, and a kitchenette so we had a proper place to store it. The crate landed with a loud thud despite our best efforts, but what was striking was the fact that there was a blender propped up in the corner. 

“Hey, did you buy this? I don’t think I saw a blender in my dorm,” I noted.

“O-oh! No, I borrowed it from the Cooking Club, since Asako joined.”

“That’s awesome!”

“Wait, we could make persimmon juice!” Kaori chirped.

“Five liters of fruit juice? Sounds like a sugar overdose to me.”

“Logistically speaking, the fruit juice will only last two to three days before spoiling, so we would need to buy preservatives, or make popsicles,” the indigo-haired girl noted. “Then we’ll need popsicle sticks and molds.”

“We could share these during lunchtime or homeroom in class!” Mako-chan eagerly suggested.

“Or deliver their decomposed corpses to the Gardening Club,” Mina-chan joked. 

“Hey, Kaori-chan, do you mind if I test the blender out with some of your fruit?” I asked her.

“Sure, no problem. But I’m not sure I have any other… ingredients.”

“No worries, I have some fruit at my dorm and we could always go down and buy some ice downstairs.”

I was quick to get myself a sizeable bag of ice while juggling a small tray of strawberries and a peach up the elevator. Kaori had a cutting board prepped on the counter and a small kitchen knife, glistening in the yellow light of the dorm room. I picked off the green leaves of the strawberries, preparing to dice them into smaller chunks. 

Mina walked up to me. “Hmmm… intrusive thought: what d’you think the mixed leaves taste like?” she pondered.

“Likely can’t taste them,” Bashi replied. “What, wanna add them to the smoothie anyway?”

“I mean… I’m not against it,” I joked. “This is an experimental smoothie after all.”

“Wait what?” Mina sputtered. 

“Hey, we could also add some ginger too, I heard that it adds a nice taste.”

“Really? I don’t really know how ginger works but I’ve tried some before and it tasted… not-so-good,” Mako added.

“Might as well add salt and pepper while we’re at it,” Akiko-chan chuckled. 

The fruit and a small bit of ginger were diced and the ice was poured into the blender. A cup of milk was retrieved from the minifridge and added in too. I placed a palm onto the rubber top just for reassurance and looked to my friends in preparation…. Okay, I’m pressing it! The blades at the bottom spun to life, making the whole appliance vibrate with energy. I watched as the bodies of fruit got crushed and turned into a liquidy pulp, and as the ice turned into slush. The oranges, whites, and reds all began to blur together, finally settling on a nectarine color. I used a little force to open the top, pouring the concoction steadily into glass cups. I sneakily took a delicate sip before setting them on the tray. My friends looked at the mystery smoothie with a fierce trepidation. Let’s hope the leaves don’t taste like anything. We sat on the white mat near the bed, the cold glass freezing our hands.

“What’s it taste like?”

“That’s for you the find out,” I winked. 

“Please, it probably tastes like any regular smoothie.”

We gathered together in a circle next to her blank bed. The floorboards were quickly warming up to our presence. There was something touching in this formation, as if our close proximity were conducting a hyperactive warmth. 

“Well, bottoms up!” I hollered. We clinked our glasses together as if in ritual, before taking a mighty gulp. It was well, as expected, very very sweet, but there was a dash of bitterness and tart that rounded within my mouth. The icy, warm chill sprung down my spine as I swallowed. My friends’ expressions were even sweeter. 

“This reminds me lots of times back at home,” I chuckled.

“Y’know,” Mako-chan spoke between sips. “I had this one time where I had to make smoothies for my whole class, but I didn’t have enough fruit, so I just sprayed a ton of whipped cream on the top of the cups and it became more like a milkshake,” she chuckled. “It was more cream than smoothie.”

“Hah! I had to do something similar in my culinary class in junior high,” Mina added, suddenly reminded of a past memory. “We were cutting fruit for a breakfast platter, then one guy in my class cooking the pancakes got it burnt and that set off the fire alarm. The whole school had to evacuate after that.” She sighed fondly. The girls and I were swept up in a wondrance of nostalgia as the memories paved the way toward the past.

“Eek! I can totally relate to that guy,” Bashi remarked. “The first time I tried cooking eggs on a stove, the oil got burnt and it exploded everywhere. Cooking seemed easy but damn, it’s real hard.”

“If you ever need help, Bashi-chan, I’m always open! I actually have this egg signature dish that my sister really likes; I could make it some time.”

“You have a sister?! That’s awesome. I don’t have any siblings which sucks,” she griped.

“I don’t know, as someone with a brother, a sibling can be quite annoying.”

“A mortal fear that I have is if I ever cook something for a boy I like, he might die of food poisoning; I would be embarassed and mortified,” Mina sighed. “This probably why I’ll never ever marry and doom the Minamikata bloodline.”

“Don’t say that! I’m sure someone out there will be the perfect match.”

“No worries, I’ll take you to cooking bootcamp! You’ll be a good chef in no time!” Mii-chan assured her.

“D’you think he’s here at ANHS?”

All of us collectively took a quick moment to think about the possibilities. I mean, finding the love of my life… at this school?! That would be so romantic! It’s just… uncertain, as who knows who it’ll end up being? Though the belief in their existence would definitely be charming. 

“Kyah! What’s with the blush, Mii-chan?” Mina was teasing her.

Knocked out of my trance, I glanced across from me. Mii-chan, ripe as a persimmon, attempted to cover her face with her hands. “I-it’s nothing…”

She quickly sensed her discomfort. “It’d be nice to know, but good luck catching that fish!”

A wave of support rang throughout the small room. “We should totally create the Bureau of Food Seduction, baiting mates one dish at a time!”

And then I was reminded of the foodgasm speech at the club fair. “Food so good it’ll make you go annh~!”

There was another toast, each of us holding out our half-finished smoothie glasses to the center of the circle. A toast to a hopeful future. To a recognition of our reminiscent joys. 

“To finding a good boyfriend!”

“To good cooking!”

“To passing grades!”

Our glasses toward the sky, the ceiling lights shone and refracted the white light into dashes of singing colors. Our eyes contained that same glow, and in that moment our dreams were real. Even if that fleeting hope were forever concealed within that thin film of our lives, even if it would never last long, there would be contained a special place in my heart, that fond memory. 

;;;~~~

Right beside the academic facilities of ANHS stood an isolated two-story building, each room with differing purposes. It was often used for club activities or hangouts, but also contained a science lab and computer room on the second floor. In one secluded room was the Art Room, often occupied on the weekends by art enthusiasts. Yet it was occupied today by a young female freshman, her brown hair combed neatly in the signature style and her brown eyes were deep in introspection. She sat on a rigid, wooden stool, gazing blankly at the canvas. In the silence, all she could hear was her own breathing, in and out of her mouth. In her boredom, she began to tap the end of the brush onto the table in a rhythmic, ticking fashion. With the other hand, she was brushing her fingers manically through her hair. Deep down, she was frustrated. She’d laid it all out. The brushes, the paints, the canvas on the stand. But what could she draw? Anything? Nothing? She picked up the brush again, a savage, haphazard dash of blue across the field of white. If she were feeling anything right now, it would be anger. Wouldn’t it? 

CRE-E-EAKKK! The door to the Art Room opened, a brown-haired student lazily propped his head through the doorway. His tie was loose, drooping down; his jacket was unbuttoned and wrinkled despite the minimal wear.

“Hey, you using this place?” he asked her. Her head jolted toward the sound like lightning, striking her out of a mad trance. The voice was caught in her throat as she nodded. “I’m comin’ in,” he stated flatly. His walk was heavy and disjointed, dragging his nigh-dead body across the room to another canvas. She looked to him, searching for any motivation or inspiration to be derived. 

“You… you’re not a club member, right?” she asked him.

The boy stopped in his preparations, looking blankly at her. “No? You are…?”

“Right,” she chuckled. Her chest tightened as she took in a breath. “I’m… Kaori, Class 1B.” Out of instinct, she used a hand to brush her bangs in a weird fashion. She pressed her lips together, attempting to look formal.

“Kaori…?”

“Just, Kaori, yes,” she told him. She bit her lip. “Just Kaori.”

“Well what’re you doing here?”

The oddly direct question broke her out of the zone again. “I could ask the same,” she replied defensively.

“I came here to ask what you were doing.”

She sat silent for a moment. “...What?”

“Okay I was walking and saw a light coming from this room. Just curious.”

“Dunno, I felt oddly motivated to come here,” she mused. “I had to get some fresh air.” Seeing as she ended there, he resumed setting his canvas up. She curled and uncurled her fists, returning her gaze to the blank canvas, now contaminated with a messy streak of purple. She had to take a few breaths; she didn’t quite feel like herself. 

“Well the air here is no fresher than in the dorms.”

She picked up the brush, mixing the colors until they came into a peach pigment. Faces were dotted as patches of tulips. She thought they should be happy, so she drew their mouths curving upward. And then came their eyes. Circles of brown? They simply became masks cheerfully sneering at her. She added add background of colourful ribbons and towering presents. She gave them lined noses and large hands. Yet the more details she added, the more foreign the reflection became. This… she could sparsely remember the happiness of the celebration. But…this wasn’t it. Her chest tightened; her knuckles were white from her tense grip. 

…

“Do you ever feel like something is desperately pulling at you?” she asked, her mouth opening before she could close it quick enough. Like a ticking bomb tucked in the back of one’s ear. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.”

“No, I get it.”

The days of the past which seemed ever so clear came to her like a muddled dream. She wiped their faces off, trying to reconstruct them again, to see if she could recognize any of them. Again. Again. They kept their disdainful smiles, laughing at her pitiful face. The peach paint was almost gone, and in her anger, her elbow had accidentally knocked it onto the floor. Her breath was ragged, jaw clenched as she kicked the floor in frustration. Their mouths, their laughs were louder and louder, echoing within her ears. Then with a scream, she threw her fist. The faces cracked from the force.

“You good? What’s up?” The male student raised his eyebrows. 

“Sorry… I’m just angry for no particular reason.”

“Just that nagging feeling you were on about?”

“I…” She didn’t want it to be true. She didn’t want to believe the feeling was caused by… this. It would be cured; it would soon go away, right? “No…? It’s just, I can’t get the faces right.”

“Well, who’re you drawing?”

“A-at a past celebration. I want to recreate it.”

“Never felt right to you?”

“…….no. B-but my memory is crystal clear… why can’t I…?” Her voice was quivering slightly now. The student recognized why. What felt so real just moments —days ago had become an insignificant dream.

“There’ll be another one sometime. You could draw that,” he mustered.

“But that’s not the same. I-it, if my whole life… it was real. It won’t be the same.”

Kaori, just Kaori. It made her feel lesser. Brown hair, brown eyes. And when they were together, talking and laughing, she could only draw blanks. She was like an empty, bare face within the crowd. Replaceable, insignificant. But she had led a life… a life without receipt? Is that a life? 

The student paused in his reply. The sinking sense of deja vu was lingering in his mind. What could be done? It was akin to a heaviness, a dense desperation crushing the very body which made one helpless to stand up again. So he took a gamble, and took the heaviness away.

“But what’s the difference?” he challenged her. “You said you were Kaori, correct?”

“Yes, that’s my name?” she answered quietly, confused.

“Kaori Asakura?” 

“Huh?” Her confusion magnified tenfold.

“What, don’t like it? What about Minami?” he suggested. “Akira? Tenko?”

Then her eyes widened and she understood. But was she willing to throw it all away? She had to acknowledge the painting, right? Her fists unknowingly clenched. No. That was what she was begging to tell herself. For if she did, who would she be?

“Kaori… Chouko,” she whispered quietly. Then she repeated the name louder. “I’m Kaori Chouko. That’s my name.”

She took the ruined painting off the canvas. She would throw those scornful worries away; no, they never existed at all. There would be another blank canvas, where the faces would grow anew. They would claw ferociously in fervent joy, a clutter of vibrant flowers. The sky could burn and freeze at once, the fingertips singing along.

For if you are no one, nothing, you can be anyone, anything. 

The spilled paint, the mess on the floor would cease to exist. And as the last bits had vanished, Kaori Chouko asked for the man’s name.

He stared back, blinking once.

“Call me Tokito, Tokito Takehiko.”

~~~

The library is quiet at this time; there is no work to do, no opening for a casual reprise. The books were neatly aligned, gathering dust in hidden corners. There sat a young girl, perhaps a mature young woman, drowned in heated concentration. A school official had examined her fitted earbuds of any malware, and coupled with her background, they had been inardently allowed onto school premises. It was then requested that they turn a blind eye toward this usage, as even if the student were not attentive toward class lectures, it would be undeniable to observe the student’s diligence through the usage of this device. 

She had expertly put her silky ebony hair into a French plait, a convenient and useful style to keep hair from interfering with studying. Only the most studious kind of girl would be hanging around a library this day and time, I suppose. She’d even studied texts on how to study properly, and would very likely pursue more until she finally got a life. Within the bag she brought along to school, she had meticulously placed her study material, had bound her notebooks and textbooks together in the most optimal method to conserve space. She hadn’t bothered to bring anything else. No clothes, no special trinkets were necessary. As to her, the past was the same as the present, and her future had already presented itself within the confines of this school. She could recall his imposing presence and quiet yet magnified voice.

How she couldn’t breathe at all. He was the only thing that she could hardly remember from the past. Or perhaps to better word it: the only existence that ever mattered. Thoughts were redirected toward her current task: homework completion. The pen was suffocated in her vice-like grip, its helpless face slammed into the thick layer of graphing paper. Black ink vomited out in a smooth, calculated motion, on par with the highest grade rollerball pen. Then she paused in her flurry, a quick frown and then a strike across the written expression. Sighing, she started over, double-checking her previous work yet unable to encounter any error. Again. She bit her lip. She had been at the same problem for almost thirty minutes. Of course, the destined key would effortlessly be found in using a graphing calculator, yet her pride would not allow for it. So again, another line had begun, more ink had been used. 

THUNK! Some group of items had collapsed nearby. She struck the tip of the pen onto the table, glancing behind her with snake eyes. Such a savage disruption, she mused. It was another girl, her silver hair peeled back into loose, stylistic braids. Her violet eyes widened in surprise as she was hasty to recoup the inorderly pile of books. The steely glare she had received made her pause.

“Apologies,” she spoke softly, bowing her head. “I was just trying to reach for a book, but I guess I’m not tall enough to comfortably reach that upper shelf.” She chuckled quietly. The studious girl didn’t bother to respond, simply imprisoning herself deeper into the workload. She would keep writing on and on, throwing tiny stones at the great fortress of the end. She could care less if it took a million paper cuts, if her hands were bleeding in exhaustion, that would be her pride, the proof of her grit and superiority. The silver hair stood a little confusedly, carrying the tall stack of books to another desk. “I think that if you’re having trouble, you should just take a break,” she suggested. “Read a book.”

“So you’re here for fun?” 

She paused. “Yes. The current schoolwork isn’t that heavy, is it?” She took a quick peek at the pages. “O-oh, apologies again.” One singular glance and her brain had crumpled and caved in on itself. “If you are stopped in personal enlightenment, you should consult a teacher.”

The ebony haired girl internally recoiled. Ask for help? How pitiful! A genius doesn’t need help, he doesn’t require help. So why, why should she expend the effort? “Really?” she scoffed. “I can handle this perfectly well myself. Although, I would still thank you for your suggestion.”

“Ahh, no problem.” The silver hair chuckled, her smiling mouth opening to add another sentence. Then she flushed and averted her gaze, settling on the study table nearby. With childlike vigor, she reached for a thicker, leatherbound book to read. 

“The Brothers Karamazov?”

She immediately shut it closed, looking eagerly at the studious girl. “You’ve read the book before?!” There were stars in her eyes.

“It’s quite long. I’ve only found the time to read four of the books.”

“Ahhh! Sorry for getting so excited,” she chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s not often an acquaintance knows of this book.”

“You truly read that for fun?” She shifted the textbook away from her. Her body purposefully shifted toward the other girl, eyes staring directly into her skull. A textbook example of displaying interest and commitment. 

“Well…” she hesitated, shifting her eyes downward. “It’s very in depth, for sure. But it makes the characters–the world– feel so much more alive.”

“Do you read books for their stories, miss…?”

“Ah! I’m Hiyori Shiina. I almost didn’t realize to introduce myself.”

“Nice to meet you, Hiyori-san. I’m Horikita Suzune.”

“Yes, now to answer your question…” She trailed off. This was the first time someone had asked her this question in a long time. Something so logical and mundane… had she not bothered to listen to them before? Had she shut them out? “Their stories are indeed interesting, I suppose they are what make the world so immersive.”

“You don’t perhaps wish to pursue literature, do you?” Horikita pondered.

A peculiar question from a peculiar student, Hiyori thought to herself. Her eyes quickly flicked toward the unfinished work on the study table, the math textbook. “I’m currently undecided, but I might. Why do you ask?”

“I wonder…”

“Are you interested in that field?”

She shook her head. “No, such things are frivolous to someone like me. Someone like you, who utilizes spare time for reading, might be interested.”

“And you, will further pursue mathematics?” She was not even interested in the topic of the future, yet she had mechanically asked the question. Horikita shifted her complete attention again to her work. “I’m curious, of your thoughts on the book, Horikita.” Another statement in spontaneity. 

“Oh,” she chuckled in response, returning her gaze to Hiyori. “Sorry. Yes, I found the journey of the characters themselves particularly intriguing as well. This opinion may not be unique, but I found Ivan the most interesting out of the brothers.”

“I do too! I think he’s more of a kindhearted character in his own way, caged by his own logic. I won’t spoil anything, but his journey does take an interesting turn.” With this opening, she unleashed her passions on the brothers, the complex love triangles, all the while trying to pitch the book to her new confidant. “And then we can discuss it after you’re done!”

“Everything indeed sounds thrilling, but the book’s too long. I’m not willing to expend the time.”

Hiyori paused in her enthusiasm. “I… understand. I’m sorry if I talked too much.”

“The Brothers Karamzov may be an outstanding book, but only the most dedicated are willing to read through completely.”

“I… understand. But thank you for conversing with me nonetheless. It’s… really been a while. And also, I can see you’re tired. So check it out, even if it’s just the fifth book.”

“Again, I don’t have the time, please stop trying so hard.”

There came a sigh. 

“You won’t make more friends this way, Hiyori-san.” The silver hair sat, looking silently at her, so Horikita took the time to expand upon her answer. “Sure, you have fallen in love with these characters and worlds, but through chapter upon chapter of text and story. This privilege doesn’t transfer easily to the real world. Each day, we pass many people. Many are forgotten before they can be unraveled. It’s often the first impressions that matter the most.”

The shelves are decadent in books, there’s no time to read everyone’s story. Millions wallow in despair. Millions rejoice. Who could care about the lives of random people? They are the countless faces that stalk past you everyday, often blotched out. Hiyori did not disagree with the assumptions, as she too was faceless. To the outer eye, that will never change. 

“It may be hard, but I’m sure I might find someone while being genuine.”

And she could care less about it. With a single true friend, she could become the moon.

Hiyori had felt the girl’s thought process made her somewhat similar, but there was nothing left to be said.

“A gesture of reciprocity, nothing more, nothing less.”

The bookworm tilted her head in introspection. She doubted any further conversation would make progress. “Goodnight, now… um… but I’m sure the answer will come to you eventually.”

She had forgotten the name. That was fine.

But perhaps with each expression written on the page, Horikita had felt she was reaching one step closer to recognition. Meaning. A small dream, but one that would dictate her every waking hour.

~~~

There was this liminal feeling throughout the entire campus. The heavy quiet, the bright city lights, the absence of people. Even standing in the elevator, everything was hollow. He’d made it that way. The untouched dorm room, unfettered by personal belongings, akin to some research clinic. Four white walls with a white ceiling light, the wood of the bedframe the sole spark of color. It was time, he’d told himself. This would be the place he would soon lay down. 

Some decoration would be nice. He chuckled to himself. Yes, he quite liked the idea. Using the mechanical pencil supplied by the school, he carved into the wall facing the bed. A small, disfigured rectangle. He then squeezed paint from the Art Room onto his hands, carefully tracing each blade of grass, or perhaps an ocean. Who could tell? He stepped back to admire his work of mediocrity, yet something within him urged his arm to grasp again at the pencil. 

With a trembling hand, he drew circles and necks and arms. Each detail etched itself into his brain. There sprouted legs and jackets and tears. Yes, every single line was so crooked and mad it was quite hard to tell. Yet to him, a face, a face he would no longer remember as clearly as now. They stood there, next to the little slab of stone. Without bothering to wash the paint off, he got onto his bed. Across from him stood a young woman and an old boy, smudged smiles and smudged frowns, as if saying, “Goodbye, *****.”

-0-

It was the night when a knocking came from my door. I recognized the young man as the brother of my neighbor. He was panting, hair frazzled and clothes muddied. 

“M-miss!” he clambered to speak. “H-he’s… what should we do?!” He was running, running, words so fast that it would reach me before the realization reached him. 

“What’s going on?!” 

He… couldn’t possibly be referring to…?! He knows me well enough. I don’t even ask for a name. I don’t want to ask. I swallow. “What… happened?”

I couldn’t hear his words. But even then, I knew. Yet I couldn’t let myself realize. Keeping the roaring thoughts out, my fingers desperately tapped about. We had to contact the police station, their blaring cars setting the bleak darkness alight. Drowning out all the noise. I didn’t bother to put something on before rushing into the frigid, dark air of the night. It was like running on an aimless path, as if running faster could prevent what happened. The selfish sky had eaten away at the night, a shapeless, daunting maw. 

“We have a body!”

And then I saw him. The world stopped.

I couldn’t breathe, the horrid, burning stench clawing up my nose and piercing my stomach. Vomit. Vomit. Vomit. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t feel, but I could vomit. 

“10-54!”

A corpse torn in half, mangled crimson solids strewn all over the road. Some long, some round. I had to turn away, unwilling to identify what they were. There was a brief quiet before the shouting came. A forensics expert was being called, others came out to look. An entangled mass of bodies pushing and shoving. I had to collapse onto my knees. 

“What’s with the noise?”

The loud sirens abused my ears, siphoning the light into distorted spirals. They could no longer soothe my head, each ring cannibalized by echoes, echoes.

“Nothing to see here!”

‘He’s dead’

I retched. Over my jacket. My stomach. My hair. A disgusting mess. 

‘Gone.’

Wretched and worthless. A stew of warm tears streamed down. A fallen doll on the pavement. No, I couldn’t just be… this pathetic waste of space. I had to do something. Right? 

“Listen, the chances of success… aren’t very high. Are you sure?”

“Take it! Just take it all! It doesn’t matter!” I screamed. Because I knew I couldn’t live on without trying. I had to take the gamble. Seeing your injured body limp on the pavement, the ghost was screaming. The chances, the money didn’t matter! Can’t you see? 

“How’s he doing?!”

I shoved myself inside frantically without waiting for an answer. There he lay, his body limp. He’s sleeping. Yes, he must be asleep. I made sure my steps were light, slowly pacing toward the bed he lay on. There was an oxygen mask and multiple tubes sticking in and out of his body. I looked to the nurse. He was breathing, his chest was moving up and down.

She pursed her lips, looking to my side. “Unfortunately, he’s in a coma.”

No. Nonono. “Wh-what? Do you know when he might wake up?!”

The nurse finally looked upon me with pity, shaking her head.

No. My heart was bursting at the seams, my body a chaotic war drum. Even in the clinical room, I felt faint.

.

.

No.

.

Y-you’re gone… forever? This… couldn’t be……?

.

.

.

Little by little, as if the shelves were falling, as if the ceiling were cracking, the world had caved in. “N-no! You can’t be gone!” I cried out. I rushed to cradle his head, infusing it with my own warmth. “You can’t be! You can’t be!” Something was burning in my throat, and little by little spread throughout my body. It was a pitiful mess. I wish I wasn’t so sad as a human being. The days of lament came by and by, a looming thunder on my psyche. I couldn’t get out of bed, couldn’t get any work done. Hospital visits became a ritual, an addiction. It was the prayer to an unknown higher being that I’d wish existed. Maybe I thought I was someone special. That somehow, in the billions upon billions of people that lived in this world, I could be seen. How foolish, isn’t it? But faith, lies and delusion, were one powerful thing. Each day, he could wake, there was always the possibility. I don’t care if it’s a bare-faced lie, I’d believe in it anyway. 

Then someone spoke. A fragmented sentence. I heard a voice.

.

.

.

His voice. I looked down. His eyes had opened. His eyes had opened.

Something had sprouted. A little bud of green in the haze. I laughed. I laughed. I cried, no longer caring for the nurse in the room alongside me. Euphoria, ecstasy. My knees collapsed onto him, and my arms wrapped around him tightly. “I thought you died!” I choked out through sobs. “Damned idiot!”

.

.

.

Even after what felt like hours, I couldn’t stop breaking down. I was laughing, laughing, all I could do. There was not enough breath to keep up. Somehow, I had been seen, blessed with a second chance. However after the initial adrenaline, a spring of regret had begun to trickle in. “I…don’t you feel……angry at me?”

The white ceiling light began to flicker and dim as I stared at him. I was the one who pushed him to do it. Maybe it was karma, a spiritual warning that my recklessness would cause irreparable harm. But he was back, and that was all that mattered. At that very moment, the past, the future, none of it had mattered. I had to set things right.

He was standing now. He wasn’t standing before. His bandaged spine was nowhere to be seen. His eyes opened. “You didn’t have to do it.” His mouth seemed to curve into a frown.

“No! You don’t understand! It was my fault! Can’t you get it?! I was the one who…” 

“You don’t get to say that. It was my fault. You still had a future ahead of you. I didn’t. You should still hold on, look ahead. Don’t live for someone mired in the past.”

“No. I’ll stand by you, no matter what,” I objected firmly. “And I don’t care if that's the most stupid decision anyone’s ever made. Because it’s my life. I’ve already made a mess of it.”

.

.

“All I’m doing is dragging you down.”

“No, you’re not.”

.

“I’ll make things right.”

I smiled. “And one day, let’s revisit the cove.”

We didn’t bring much, just a ticket for the bus, wandering aimlessly along the coast. The small cove of pebbles, grey little pellets, like an endless pit. We could stack them so high it reached the top of the world, so far it could reach across the ocean.

He thought for a while. “Maybe when I get an actual job.”

Yes. For it’s a miracle, a wondrous miracle that you managed to live on. That day, that one lucky day. I thought I’d let go of the past and future back then. Looking back at it now… that was blatantly false. 

The bouquet of paper cranes was set down onto the soft, plush grass; their metallic colors shined like unearthed jewels. She flicked the lighter, once, twice. And the flame was lit. It caught onto the feathery wings in its gluttonous plight. The fragments of golden ashes flew into the wind, a wispy black smoke filling the emptiness. I felt something inside fly away too, guiding the ashes afar to the tranquil sea. For I wish you could fly high into the next world, without care nor decency. Just as you would’ve liked. 

I opened the can, the bit of air sizzling out. The orange, bubbly liquid poured quietly onto the slab of earth. The smoke was stamped out as a bitter taste swarmed the air. I made sure my movements were gentle, feeding an unseen infant. Then all was poured out, so the can was thrown away, tipped over. Your favorite. I know you’re conflicted about it, but you deserve to taste it, at least one last time. 

And then there was the bottle of tea, which he poured. A new one was bought. I wonder how it tasted to you, the first time you had it. I wonder how you felt. 

Once all was poured and the fruit had been peeled and placed, an odd puddle of fragrances was left behind, wearing a necklace of orange and red. How does it taste? I couldn’t help but glance down at the can. Oh, how I used to hate the taste. But I got used to it. I’d begun to love it. Odd, grainy, bitter, sweet, muddy, sour. If only the rain could arrive and wash all the salt away. If only the wind could sing again to lead my body into the air. Yet the sun strived to burn.

Is there a cove where you are now? A little tranquil spot to lie down?

“Sleep well, and don’t beat yourself up too much. I’ll be here,” I whispered. 

No one dared to say a word. This will have to do for now.

{CHAPTER 4} Make Odd Acquaintances In The Meantime.

Another day had risen, the Sun opening an indolent eye to survey the dark land. It came as the lone whitening in the endless gray— a single ray penetrating the crevice, shining on the pathway protruding out of the dorms. I had grown accustomed to waking up around this time, right as the corners of my room grew solid lines. The migraine served as the equivalent substitute to the ringing bells of alarm. As any upright denizen would, my face was to be washed, hair to be combed; my body had to be adjusted. Facial moisturizers and creams lined up upon the white counter. My face would be up to standards, and I could continue on.  I stared at the bathroom mirror once more in the dark; black roses bloomed further. This would not do. In the light, everything comes out worse; yet even on the cold floor, what else was there to do? 

.

.

.

There’s something oddly painful about having thirty-something pairs of eyes on you, waiting for you to open your mouth. What’s even worse, is the fact that ninety-nine percent of those people are identical, their empty, beady eyes waiting for nothing at all. I awkwardly clear my throat. So this is it? The obstacle that I’m stuck on out of everything else? Fine. Might as well get it over with.

“Hi guys, as you all know by now, I’m Takahashi,” I begin with a dry voice, then I pause and chuckle. That would make this less bad, right? “Yes, I was… sick, but I’m finally feeling better now. Also, just to let you guys know, I’m absolutely horrible at anything with sports, but I think my arithmetic is pretty decent. I hope to have a good time with you guys.” At the end, I contemplated smiling, but that usually turns out for the worst so I stop. 

A wave of claps resounded around the room, beginning with Miss Friendship. They all smile in sync, then applaud like they’ve seen the most interesting performance in their lifetime. 

“You’ve missed lots!” a brown-haired brown-eyed girl chirped.

“Catch up on the group chat!” another one hollered. 

“Hope you’re feeling better!” Other similar sentiments ate at each other, generating a messy meaningless soup of voices. I don’t bother to strain my ears.

“Hey.” A clearer voice comes from my left. It’s Kanzaki, the only guy I recognize from Class B. His purple hair is combed nicely and he waves at me. “Well, I suppose we’ll be seatmates for the rest of our time here. If you need anything, I’m free to assist.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he replies. Then he leans toward me and continues in a hushed tone. “Also, you might get caught off guard by our homeroom teacher Hoshinomiya-sensei, she’s… a little……”

BAMM! With precise timing, the door was kicked open. Hoshinomiya waltzed in like she’d spent the whole night dancing at a bar. Her hips swayed rigidly from side to side as she groaned in some sort of pain or satisfaction. 

“What up, what up? It’s ya girl Chie-chan~~~!”

The rest of the class sighed, seemingly used to her behavior. 

“I see what you mean. I did meet up with her yesterday in a debriefing, and she did get herself drunk. I didn’t realize she also acted like this in class.”

“Oh… really?” Kanzaki whispered in surprise. “I wonder who hired her.”

“She’s probably sleeping with some higher official, fu—”

“Yooooo~”, Hoshinomiya yelled from the front of the classroom. “Three days in and there’s already a couple?! So busy flirting you can’t be bothered to listen to your poor, oh-so-hardworking teacher?!” She was staring straight at me and Kanzaki, face shriveled in pain. The latter sighed and shifted his gaze forward toward the front under her scrutiny.

—cking slut. What an obnoxious woman.

“I get it, guys,” she sighed. “The lessons recently have been really light, but just know your teachers are working really, really hard. Especially your dearest Sakagami-sensei, he’s has worked really really hard on his big metal balls! As his bestest friend~, I thought I should promote it a little. Be excited for today’s lessons!”

Although it was likely us she was accusing of an affair, I couldn’t help but ask Kanzaki another question. “What class does Sakagami teach again?” 

“He teaches physical sciences. Currently physics and chemistry. After the syllabus debriefing on the first day, he’d begun with stimulus exposure. This is probably another lab situation.”

“Ah, I see,” I nodded in understanding. Depending on which particular subject he was choosing from, we could be looking all electric conductivity or even chemical reactions. Aren’t there cameras in this room? Some guy must think he can fix her because I would’ve never hired someone like her in the first place.