Chapter 10: First Day

The humming sound of the monorail was the only thing that filled the air as I stood, watching the cloudy January sky outside. The sun was starting to rise, its soft light seeping through the clouds, casting a muted glow across the city. It was the first day of school, and the train was packed with students in the same uniform. Of course, I was wearing it too—a thick black blazer, a crisp white dress shirt, and a black tie. Honestly, it was a bit warm, but at least I didn't have to think about fashion for once.

What I did have to think about, however, were the stares. It wasn't exactly new to me; I'd grown up with it. Being foreign-looking always made me stand out, but it didn't make it any easier. What really bothered me now, though, was the reason for their attention. Sure, it's uncomfortable being stared at, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't because of my face.

No, it was because I was standing beside her.

Mitsuru.

We'd entered the monorail together, and the whispers and curious glances followed us. I could almost feel their eyes drilling into the back of my head. I couldn't decide if it was worse or better that I was with her.

She stood there, unbothered, reading a small book with one hand while gripping the train's handle with the other. Completely unfazed by the attention.

"You know, I thought for sure you'd be going to school in a private car, not commuting with me," I said, breaking the silence.

She barely looked up from her book. "It's not appropriate for me to travel like that. Yes, I'm the heir to the Kirijo group, which sponsors the school, but here, I'm equal with the other students." She turned a page without missing a beat. "I already have the privilege of living outside the dormitory. Any more than that would be seen as special treatment. Though, if you'd like, I could arrange for a private car tomorrow."

I raised an eyebrow. "And will you be in it?"

Mitsuru's brow furrowed ever so slightly, but her eyes still didn't leave the pages of her book. She didn't answer immediately, and I could almost hear the gears turning in her head.

"Then it's not appropriate for me either," I muttered.

After that, she didn't say anything anymore.

—

Walking with Mitsuru toward the gates of Gekkoukan High felt… surreal. The building ahead looked like it came out of the game itself as I remembered it, all modern glass and steel, catching the dim morning light. Around us, students streamed through the gate in clusters, chatting, laughing, or just zoning out. A few lingered by the cherry blossom trees—still bare in the middle of January, their branches promising better days.

The scene had a certain charm to it, though I imagine it'll look nicer once spring gets around to doing its job.

We passed through the gate, changed into our indoor shoes, and entered the main hall. For all the polish outside, the inside was surprisingly… normal. A tiny shop on the left sold snacks and drinks, already drawing a small crowd, while a bulletin board on the right stood quietly ignored, drowning in announcements.

"This is where we part," Mitsuru said, her tone as composed as ever. "I need to help prepare the auditorium for the welcoming ceremony. As for you, the faculty office is your destination. If you need help finding it, refer to the map provided by the school."

Straight to the point, as usual. I pulled the map from my pocket, offering a small nod. "Thanks for showing me the way, Kirijo-san."

She acknowledged me with a slight nod of her own before turning and heading toward the auditorium. Even in a crowd, Mitsuru managed to carry herself with an air of authority, and some students made way for her without a second thought.

I, meanwhile, headed left down the hallway toward the faculty office. It wasn't hard to find—the bold sign above the sliding door made sure of that. I stepped inside, muttering a polite "excuse me."

The faculty office was everything I expected: desks cluttered with papers, teachers hunched over them like office workers on a deadline. There was a faint buzz of activity—papers rustling, pens scribbling, occasional murmured conversations. It wasn't chaotic, but it wasn't calm either.

Before I could scan my admission papers to figure out who I needed to talk to, the door behind me slid open again. I turned and found myself face-to-face with a middle-aged man carrying a stack of files. He looked at me for a moment, his expression flickering with mild surprise before settling into something more neutral.

"Ah," he said. "You must be the new student."

"Yes, sir."

"I've read your file before, but with a name like Ruichi Ginba, I didn't expect…" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "Never mind. I'm Takenozuka, I will be your homeroom teacher for the rest of the year. Though, I also teach physics."

"Please take care of me, sensei," I said, bowing slightly.

Takenozuka nodded, flipping open one of his files. "Your records are impressive. Top grades, active in extracurriculars… though about this rifle shooting club… Didn't know high school students were doing that these days."

"It's a sport," I said, keeping my tone even. "Completely legal."

"Interesting." He nodded. "We don't have anything like that here, but you might enjoy the archery club. Most clubs aren't accepting new members until next term, but you could look into it."

"I'll think about it," I said.

"Good." He closed the file, leaning slightly against the nearest desk. "Transferring mid-year isn't easy, but with your track record, I'm sure you'll manage just fine. I'm confident you'll adapt quickly."

"Thank you for your guidance."

"Your class is 2-C," he continued. "But first, we have the welcoming ceremony. Follow me—I'll take you to the auditorium."

And so, I followed him through the hallways toward the auditorium, bracing myself for the principal's undoubtedly riveting speech about the new term.

—

As expected, the welcoming ceremony was a mind-numbing parade of formality. The principal droned on about academic excellence, the student council president said something vaguely inspiring, and somewhere in there, I found myself wondering if these events were meant to prepare students for the monotony of corporate life. At least it was over quickly.

After wrapping up a few administrative loose ends in the faculty office, Takenozuka-sensei finally guided me to my new class. When he slid the door open, the room's chatter evaporated like morning fog. Every student rose to their feet in unison, a scene straight out of a classroom drama.

And, of course, the person leading the charge was none other than Mitsuru.

Great. I'd already spent my morning commute with her, and now it turns out we're classmates too. What are the odds? Actually, don't answer that.

"Settle down," Takenozuka-sensei instructed, and the class obediently sat back down. He approached the podium, dropping a few files onto it with the casual authority of someone who probably didn't want to be here either. I stood next to him, trying to act as unremarkable as possible.

"You have a new classmate for the rest of the year," Takenozuka-sensei began. "He's from Okinawa, so make him feel welcome. Ginba-kun, please introduce yourself."

"Right." I took a small step forward, offering a polite bow. "My name's Ruichi Ginba. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

The instant I straightened up, the murmurs started. They weren't even subtle about it. Words like "Okinawa," "foreigner," and "with Kirijo-san?" floated just loud enough to catch.

"Alright, calm down," Takenozuka-sensei said, his tone a little sharper this time. The whispers subsided, but the curious glances didn't. He turned to me with a nod. "Ginba-kun, go ahead and find a seat."

I nodded back, letting my eyes scan the room as I moved. My path took me right past Mitsuru, whose expression remained as composed as ever, then past a few unfamiliar faces, each staring just a bit too long. Finally, I settled into an empty seat in the middle-back row.

As soon as I sank into my seat, Takenozuka-sensei gave a small, satisfied hum before addressing the class again. "Alright, let's get started with homeroom. First, this term's schedule will be—"

And that's about when my attention drifted off into the void. Sure, my eyes stayed fixed on him, nodding along like a dutiful student, but my ears? Fully disengaged. 

The monotony of the homeroom period ticked on, the classroom's fluorescent lights casting a dull glow over everything. Time began to warp, stretching and compressing in that weird way it always does during a tedious day. And before I knew it, the first day came to an end.