I felt a light but insistent touch on my shoulder, coupled with the soft, hushed whisper of my name. "Kenji, it's time to wake up. We're almost there."
My eyelids fluttered open, and I found Ichika leaning over me, her hand still resting on my shoulder. Her voice had a sense of urgency, but it was delivered in a way that wouldn't disturb others on the train. I could see the concern in her eyes, and it jolted me from my drowsiness.
"G-good morning.." I said.
"You needed that 30-minute sleep, huh?" Ichika said while smiling at me.
I mumbled a sleepy acknowledgment and began to gather my belongings.
As we disembarked from the train, the familiar smell of soot and the bustling crowd of commuters greeted us. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling a strange twinge of soreness that hadn't been there when I fell asleep. I glanced over at Ichika as we navigated the crowd.
"Hey, Ichika?"
"Yeah?"
"Why does my neck hurt? I remember falling asleep leaning against the metal pole, but when I woke up..."
Ichika's expression wavered for a fraction of a second, a faint dusting of pink touching her cheeks. "Well," she began, looking straight ahead. "You were blocking a passenger's seat, so I had to move you."
I felt a twinge of discomfort in my back, a consequence of the way I had been sleeping. But her touch had undoubtedly left an impression on me. "Thank you, Ichika," I managed to say.
As my mind meandered into a dangerous, flustered daydream about leaning on her shoulder, a hand waved in front of my face."Hello? Earth to Kenji," Ichika teased, already a few steps ahead.
"Are you gonna sleep standing up, too?"My heart skipped a beat.
"Ah, it's nothing! Coming!" I stumbled out, swiftly making my way up the stairs to mask my burning cheeks.
As we approached the school gate, the guard stood there, just as he had yesterday. The memory of my nervousness from the previous day sent a chill down my spine. I had to remember my name this time.
"Kenji, you got the email, right?" Ichika asked, her voice steady.
"Email? What are you talking about?" I replied, perplexed by her question.
"Well, you should have gotten an email with a barcode. You see how the guard scans the students' phones?" Ichika pointed to the guard as she explained.
I couldn't recall receiving any email, probably because my phone's email app was set to silent mode. I had grown tired of the constant spam emails and decided to mute, but now, I was worried.
"Check your phone. We don't want to be late," Ichika urged.
"Right," I mumbled, my anxiety growing. I checked my phone. A glance at my email app revealed a daunting number: 99+ unread emails. I was sure there were more, but none of them had seemed important. Amid the sea of emails, I found the one Ichika mentioned. It read:
'Yume No High School - Entry email: To all students of Yume No High School, please show this email at the gate to enter the school. This is a one-time barcode. Once in class, each student will receive a card for easy access to the school.'
I noticed the fine print at the end, emphasizing that I couldn't share this card with anyone; it was unique to me, bearing my name.
"Got it," I replied, relief washing over me.
We reached the gate, where Ichika showed her phone to the guard. He scanned it and allowed her to pass. I presented my phone next, my heart pounding with anxiety.
'What if this doesn't work? Will I be arrested?' I thought, panic surging through me.
Thankfully, the guard permitted my entry. I breathed a sigh of relief. Ichika was still waiting for me, her bright smile lighting up the morning. I wished we were in the same class, but for now, that seemed impossible.
"Kenjiiiiii," she said my name in a cute, drawn-out way. I couldn't help but blush at the sound of it. I lowered my gaze, unable to meet her eyes.
"W-w-what?" I stammered, my cheeks burning.
Ichika took a step closer, entering my personal space. I was usually protective of my personal space, reserving it only for family and close friends. But I realized something, I had no close friends besides Ichika. Did I even have any friends at all?
"Kenji, listen. I know we're not in the same class, and it's tough for both of us, but I want you to try your best, okay?" she said, her voice filled with genuine concern.
"Okay, I'll try my best," I replied, hoping for a hug. But there was no embrace.
"I'll walk you to your class."
"That's okay. I don't want to bother you," I said, expecting her to insist otherwise. To my surprise, she accepted my response.
"Okay then, Kenji. Have fun, alright?" She said with a warm smile.
"Thank you. You too," I replied.
As she walked away to her class, I couldn't help but wonder where her classroom was located. My class, C, was different from hers, which was B. This school was enormous.
I started to walk to my classroom. It was still early, about 20 minutes before the first lesson, yet many students were already milling around the halls. I eventually reached Class C.
Taking a deep breath, I cautiously pushed the door open.My eyes immediately locked onto a single student sitting in the corner, engrossed in his phone. It was my absolute worst-case scenario unfolding before me.
An empty room with only one other person.The last thing I could afford was to sit in dead silence, especially since he looked up and we had already established eye contact. I hadn't devised a contingency plan for this.
Well, I gotta say something. It's too awkward now."I-is this class C?" I stammered, my nerves getting the better of me.
"Uh... Yeah, it should be C," he replied, his discomfort completely mirroring my own.
But I couldn't just stand there in awkward silence. I needed more, some semblance of small talk to break the tension.
"Why are you here early?" I inquired, attempting to project confidence. His response was hesitant, "W-well! Uh... I-I didn't want to be late." It was a transparent lie. We both knew he, like me, was here early to avoid the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Despite this, I hesitated to point out the obvious. Even I, Kenji, wasn't entirely devoid of social tact.
"Oh yeah...? Me too. I came early to find an open seat," I asserted, subtly guiding the conversation in a direction that might lead to an invitation to sit. My recent interactions with Ichika had given me a crash course in basic social skills, something my fellow early bird seemingly lacked.
"The class is empty, you can sit anywhere," he stammered again.My brain immediately went into overdrive.
If I walked to the complete opposite side of the room to sit down, it would basically be a neon sign saying 'I want nothing to do with you.' But if I sat right next to him in an empty room, I'd look like a desperate weirdo.
"Where should I sit, though? There are so many options," I murmured innocently, my eyes scanning the room for a safe middle ground. 'If only Ichika were here, this would be a lot easier.'
"Just sit anywhere you want," he replied, and so began the subtle dance of finding the perfect seat without conceding too much. But I wasn't about to back down.
"Why do you sit in the back?" I questioned, observing his choice of the furthest corner. It seemed counterintuitive for someone who presumably cared about their studies.
"Uh.. I can be on my phone without the teacher noticing me." He said, looking down for a moment, but there was more to that.
"Oh? That's smart. So, w-what's your name?" I asked, recognizing that social finesse was a two-way street, and I had much to learn.
As Kudo Haruto uttered his name, I reciprocated with a friendly greeting, "Nice to meet you, Kudo." The exchange continued with a hesitant inquiry about my name. My response was straightforward, "I'm Yamamoto Kenji."
"Nice to meet you too," Kudo replied with a hint of nervousness. A quiet sigh escaped me. The dream of claiming a quiet, isolated seat in the front rows had completely evaporated. I awkwardly shuffled over and took the seat right beside Kudo.
A few seconds later the door swung open. Two girls entered, their gaze fixed more on me than on Kudo.
I greeted them with a tentative, "Hi." They completely ignored me, brushing past like I was a piece of furniture.
"So I told her, 'Do you have a problem with that?'" the taller one said, a smug grin on her face. "Oh my god, you actually said that?" the other girl giggled.
"She's such a desperate try-hard. Acting all dramatic." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Such blatant toxicity at 8:00 AM was uncalled for.
A small paper discreetly passed from Kudo to me contained the words, "Wow, those girls must be tsunderes." Confused, I scrawled my misunderstanding on the paper, questioning the meaning of the term 'Tsundere.' Kudo's response indicated that it was a Japanese term related to character development, describing someone with an initially harsh personality who gradually reveals a warmer, friendlier side over time.
As I processed this information, I couldn't help but wonder, 'Is he genuinely clueless, or is he just remarkably naive?' The thought lingered: perhaps he believed this was an anime? (I hope so) "Oh, I didn't know that... You could be right."
Yet, deep down, I was convinced there was no way these two could be anything other than the devil incarnate.