Lunch after PT felt different to Eadlyn. It wasn't just a meal—it was his first real glimpse into belonging. He sat with Ken on the terrace, sunlight soaking the benches, their bento boxes open between them like unspoken promises of friendship.
Ken tapped his chopsticks against his drink can, the rhythmic clinking matching his energetic personality. "So, Ead, what do you do in your free time? Manga? Games? Girls?"
Eadlyn chuckled, shaking his head. "Mostly manga and novels. I kinda grew up on stories... they shaped how I see the world."
Ken grinned, nudging his shoulder. "Ah, you're one of those romantics. I respect it."
Their banter flowed naturally—anime rankings, game strategies, exaggerated criticisms—despite their differences, a comfortable rhythm formed between them. Ken had that rare ability to make even the most mundane conversations feel like the start of something bigger.
Then Ken leaned back dramatically, stretching his arms behind his head. "Buddy, let's go to karaoke today. Manami's joining us. And one more girl."
Eadlyn didn't hesitate. "Sounds fun."
The way Ken casually said "Manami" made Eadlyn realize something: Japanese friendships, once established, flowed easily. There was a kind of closeness he wasn't used to, but welcomed.
Classes resumed with a new energy. At the end of the day, Naomi-sensei called him to the office.
"Mr. Greyson," she said, her voice calm but carrying that quiet authority, "you need to choose a club. Ask around tomorrow. Don't delay."
He nodded and hurried toward the entrance, where Ken was waiting, already bouncing on his toes with excitement.
But then—
"Ead?"
He turned.
Sayaka stood there, her summer uniform fluttering slightly in the breeze. The afternoon light caught the edges of her hair, making it glow like burnished copper. Her expression softened the moment their eyes met.
"I didn't expect you to be in the same school," she said. "But... it's nice."
He blinked, surprised. "Well, my grandfather arranged the admission yesterday. Quite the coincidence, Saya-senpai."
The word senpai hit her like a spark. A light blush dusted her cheeks, though she tried to hide it behind her composed tone. "If you need anything," she said, voice carefully steady, "your senpai will help you."
Even Ken froze beside him. The campus queen—the girl everyone admired yet rarely approached—was speaking warmly to a boy she had just met a few days ago.
Eadlyn gave a short bow. "Thank you. I'll count on you."
He left her with a smile, unaware of how many eyes had witnessed the exchange.
At the karaoke shop, Ken had already booked a room. Neon lights glowed softly against the walls, the screen flickering with song choices. The air smelled faintly of popcorn and something sweet—like the beginning of memories being made.
Ken went first, belting an anime opening with unrestrained passion. His voice was chaotic but enthusiastic enough to make everyone laugh until their sides hurt.
Manami followed with a soft J-pop ballad. Her voice wasn't just good—it was polished, subtly emotional, carrying notes that seemed to wrap around the room like silk. For the first time, Eadlyn saw a version of her that wasn't playful or teasing, but quietly expressive, as if she were sharing a part of herself she usually kept hidden.
Riko—who had arrived with Manami—chose a cheerful track next, her performance intentionally dramatic. She coaxed Ken into a duet until he surrendered, laughing so hard he could barely sing.
Finally, it was Eadlyn's turn.
He picked one English song first, his accent making the lyrics wobble in places. Instead of awkwardness, it sparked laughter—warm, accepting, the kind that comes when people realize imperfections make moments more real.
Then he chose a Japanese song he remembered from an anime OST. His pronunciation wasn't perfect, but he sang with a sincerity that made the room quiet. When he finished, there was a beat of silence before Ken clapped him on the back.
"Dude! You're way better than you let on!"
Eadlyn just smiled, shaking his head.
During a break, Manami leaned over, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, Eadlyn... how do you know Sayaka-senpai?"
There it was—the question they all wanted answered.
"We're neighbors," Eadlyn said simply. "She showed me around the town."
Ken let out a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm around Eadlyn's shoulders. "Bro, Sayaka-senpai is a school idol. If you stay close to her, half the guys are gonna come after you."
Riko nodded, sipping her drink. "They'll form a line."
Manami only glanced sideways at Eadlyn, her expression unreadable. Something flickered behind her eyes—curiosity, perhaps something more. But she didn't press further.
They left the karaoke shop under the soft glow of streetlights, contacts exchanged, plans promised, laughter still lingering in the air.
Eadlyn realized something important:
He wasn't just living a story anymore.
He was becoming part of one.