Do you ever find yourself whispering that everything will turn out fine, even when doubt lingers at the edges of your mind?
How far would you go to convince yourself of that truth?
I can't even recall when I first began to believe...
Today marks the exhilarating onset of a new school year, a moment I've been both eagerly anticipating and dreading in equal measure. When the teacher called my name to announce my arrival, my heart began to thump loudly against my chest, an undeniable rush of nerves coursing through me.
"Everyone, this is Asahi Irogami; he will be joining us from this year onwards." She declared, her voice radiating a warm authority that momentarily calmed my frayed nerves. Turning to me, she encouraged, "Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?"
"Uh..." I stammered, battling the rush of anxiety as I scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces. My gaze instinctively landed on a familiar figure sitting in the back by the large, sunlit window.
The sight was strikingly different; Kei, who appeared almost unrecognizable in her crisp school uniform compared to her usual goth-inspired attire. Instead of the elaborate, dark ensembles she typically wore, today she was dressed in a standard uniform: a pristine white shirt, punctuated with a delicate purple bow, paired with a tailored black blazer that cinched at the waist, and a dark purple skirt that fell gracefully just above her knees.
The first few buttons of her shirt were recklessly undone, the soft fabric draping just enough to tease curiosity about what lay beneath, while the purple bow hung languidly at her collarbone, playfully obscuring any view of her neck.
No choker, no smokey eyeliner or black lipstick – she was just a regular student here, not taking into account her nails are still painted black.
Even with this transformation, reconciling this version of Kei with the one I knew was a struggle. She seemed entirely absorbed in the world outside the window, gazing vacantly into the distance, her expression reflecting a blend of boredom and indifference that felt oddly detached.
It surprised me somewhat that Kei had chosen to guide me to school; Mrs. Hinahata had waved us off with a cheerful smile, her approval evident as she watched us head out.
"Mr. Irogami?" The teacher's voice unexpectedly pulled me back to reality, forcing me to redirect my attention from Kei's enigmatic demeanor back to the classroom full of faces staring at me.
"Uh, I had to drop out of school for medical reasons, but I'm back and excited to be here!" I finally managed to say, my voice wavering slightly as I bowed my head in appreciation, the class erupting into a round of polite applause that felt both comforting and overwhelming.
"Take that empty seat next to Miss Hinahata in the back." The teacher instructed with a wave of her hand, as if summoning me to my new place among my peers.
With a quick nod, I made my way down the narrow aisle, weaving through the rows of desks filled with students who whispered and exchanged curious glances. Finally, I slid into the seat beside Kei, a surge of anxiety knotting my stomach as I remembered our pact to act like strangers in this unfamiliar environment.
As I turned my attention back to the front, my curiosity was piqued by a rectangular slot embedded in the middle of the desk. I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand on it, eagerly expecting something remarkable to occur; yet, nothing happened.
"Mr. Irogami, you place your Holograph 2.0 in the slot." The teacher replied, a hint of amusement dancing in her voice as she observed my bewilderment.
I quickly rummaged through my backpack and retrieved the sleek, device, inserting it into the slot. Instantly, the rim of the desk illuminated in a vivid blue glow that cast a fascinating light around me, and I felt a wave of awe wash over me.
"Oooh." I murmured in delight as a holographic image sprang to life above the desk, showcasing our school's emblem in stunning detail. The words 'logging in' flickered on the display for a brief moment, followed by a warm welcome message: 'Welcome, Mr. Irogami.'
As the screen filled with a cascade of loading text, I watched in amazement until it finally settled on a blank page, poised and ready for my input.
"Okay, now that we're ready, let's begin with what you'll be learning this semester." The teacher announced, swiping her hand elegantly across the interactive holographic board at the front of the class.
With deft strokes, she manipulated the floating information, allowing it to transfer seamlessly to our own holographic screens. This technology was nothing short of impressive—it felt like a glimpse into a dazzling future that I had only seen in sci-fi films. A grin spread across my face, only to catch Kei's amused gaze beside me.Her expression seemed to harbor a playful smirk, finding my childlike wonder at the entire setup to be quite entertaining.
As the day wore on, a heavy realization began to settle in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that no one had approached me to initiate a conversation yet. With a deep, resigned sigh, I let my forehead rest against the cool surface of my desk, watching the last of my classmates filter out for lunch.
"Is it the scar that's keeping them away?" I whispered to myself, a hint of melancholy lacing my words as I sprawled my arms across the glossy plastic surface of the desk.
"Don't worry about it." Came the soothing voice of Kei, infused with an unexpected warmth. Her cool and calm persona in place, the unique accent that she shares with her mother long gone. "There's at least one person who won't be put off by anything. Unfortunately."
I turned my head slightly to catch a glimpse of Kei beside me, effortlessly munching on a beautifully arranged bento that she had obviously crafted with painstaking care. Feeling a mix of comfort and resignation, I sat up and reached into my bag to retrieve my own bento box, its design mirroring hers perfectly—a quiet testament to her thoughtfulness. With reverence, I placed it alongside hers on the desk.
As I carefully lifted the lid of my bento box, I set it beside the pristine container of Kei's meal and peered inside. A vibrant medley of nutritious food items, meticulously arranged, greeted my eyes. The presentation was so breathtakingly exquisite that I couldn't help but think it deserved a perfect score of 10 out of 10. But the real question lingered in the air: how would it taste?
With my chopsticks poised delicately between my fingers, I eagerly dove into the culinary masterpiece. The moment the tender juiciness of the meat hit my palate, a delighted moan escaped me, overwhelming my senses. Unable to contain my joy, I cupped my cheek with my hand, and a goofy, unabashed smile stretched across my face.
Forget a mere 10 out of 10; this was a glorious 100 out of 10! The succulent flavor was so—
"Hold on just a minute!" A lively feminine voice sliced through my blissful reverie, pulling my attention away from the bento box in front of me.
I turned, still grinning foolishly, to face the source of the interruption standing in the open doorway of the classroom. There stood a girl with shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair, her finger dramatically pointed at Kei and me—an unexpected burst of energy. "Speak of the devil and she shall appear." Kei muttered through a mouthful of her carefully prepared meal, barely fazed by the arrival of this new character.
This newcomer was a few inches shorter than I was when I gauged her against the door frame. She sported a crisp white shirt that fitted her snugly, complemented by a dark purple skirt that accentuated her form. The shirt was adorned with a loose purple bow resting nonchalantly at her collarbone, the first few buttons deliberately undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her pink bra beneath—a hint of modest cleavage that added to her allure.
She was slightly more well-endowed than Kei, her skirt hugging her waist comfortably before ending mid-thigh. The look was topped off with thigh-high black socks and polished brown loafers that contributed a playful flair to her outfit.
Her cerulean blue eyes sparkled with mischief as they landed on me, and she strode confidently towards our table. Halting directly in front of me, she planted her hands firmly on her hips, her playful demeanor drawing my gaze to her cleavage at eye level. It took a concerted effort to maintain focused eye contact.
"I heard from a little birdie that you walked to school with Kei this morning." She began, her voice oozing with intrigue. "And look at this—you even have the same bento box! You know what that can only mean, right?" She jabbed her finger in my direction and then dragged it towards Kei, who let out a weary sigh and set her chopsticks atop her bento while rubbing her forehead in exasperation.
"Whatever you're thinking, it's not—"
"You're married!!!" The girl exclaimed, interrupting Kei with dramatic flair, her voice echoing through the classroom and drawing the curious attention of passing students.
Kei shot to her feet, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief, incredulity etched across her features. "Why is a relationship the first assumption everyone makes!?" she protested, her voice a blend of frustration and bewilderment.
The atmosphere shifted, thickening with an unexpected tension as silence enveloped the room. Onlookers blinked in shock, wide-eyed at the sudden turn of events. The normally composed, albeit slightly chaotic, goth girl glanced around the room, her surprise morphing into embarrassment. She quickly sank back into her seat, striving to reclaim her composure, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. It seemed her carefully crafted facade of being the calm, cool girl was beginning to crack under the weight of her embarrassment.
"He's a family friend who's staying with us for now." Kei announces with a calm authority, her voice steady as she shifts her attention to both me and the girl beside her. Her usual stoic expression is firmly back in place, masking any hint of embarrassment from the earlier outburst.
The other students, seemingly unaffected by the brief interruption, continue their leisurely stroll down the bustling hallway, laughter and snippets of conversation mingling in the air. The girl's intrigued gaze flits between Kei and me, a sly smile curling at the corners of her lips. "So, you live together?" She asks, her tone playful yet tinged with curiosity. "I bet you have some juicy stories about Kei. Come on, you'll share a little with a friend, right?"
Juicy stories? Is this my chance to finally break the ice and forge a connection with someone? My mind races as I shut my eyes for a moment, rifling through the events of the past week, desperately searching for any anecdote that might captivate her interest.
"Well... there was this one time when I accidentally walked by the bathroom, and Kei was in the shower singing a Ma—" My words are abruptly cut off when a hand clamps over my mouth, silencing me mid-sentence.
The warmth of Kei's intense glare pierces through to the back of my head as she leans in close, her voice low and fierce in my ear, "Not one more word."
I gulp nervously, turning my gaze to the girl, and frantically shake my head as Kei withdraws her hand and takes her seat once more. "I don't have any stories, sorry." I manage to utter, feeling the weight of missed opportunity settle heavily on my shoulders.
So much for making my first friend.
The girl glances between Kei and me, a mischievous glimmer dancing in her eyes as she senses the tension, before suddenly spinning on her heel and making her way to the exit. "I guess I'll just have to keep an eye on you." She banters playfully, throwing us one last wink over her shoulder as she strides confidently out, leaving the room feeling a little emptier.
Shifting my gaze back to Kei, I feel a cocktail of confusion and disappointment swirling within me. Kei, meanwhile, is engrossed in her lunch, shoveling food into her mouth with the focused efficiency of someone racing against the clock. "Who... was that?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
"Airya Kusa." Kei replies, her tone dripping with irritation. "She's one of those overly cheery, bubbly popular girls. And frankly, she's just annoying."
"That last part seems a bit harsh, doesn't it?" I respond, unable to suppress the urge to defend the girl, who had seemed vibrant and full of life.
Kei turns her gaze toward me, her expression utterly deadpan. "You seemed to be enjoying the eyeful she was giving you, so of course, you wouldn't find her annoying."
At her pointed accusation, I feel my cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and guilt, and I look away sheepishly, unable to hold her penetrating gaze. "It's not like I was actively looking..." I protest, my voice defensive.
I swear, I really wasn't!
Kei falls into a contemplative silence, and we resume our lunch, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words and a tension that lingers, mingling with the sound of our fellow students chatting and laughing beyond the classroom walls.