The chalk scraped faintly against the blackboard as Hamada-sensei adjusted his glasses. His voice was calm but firm, cutting through the still classroom air. "And with that, we find that x equals nine. If you're not understanding so far, just let me know."
Noboru's hand shot up lazily, a grin already forming on his face. He shifted in his chair, leaning back slightly like he owned the moment. "Um, sir."
Across the room, Shunpei stiffened in his seat. His jaw tightened, and his fingers tapped faintly against his desk as he glanced over, already anticipating what would come out of Noboru's mouth. With a restrained tone, he asked, "What is it, Noboru?"
Noboru sat upright with exaggerated seriousness, even straightening his tie. "I understand this topic. I just wanted to let you know that," he said, his smile widening.
A hush fell over the class for half a second before Hamada-sensei let out a dry laugh. He tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "What? Am I hearing things? Have the gods finally touched his stupid brain?" he said, shaking his head with an amused smile.
"Well, that's great news. I'm glad you're finally absorbing the knowledge I'm teaching."
The bell chimed sharply, echoing through the corridors beyond the door and cutting off the moment. The smell of rice and fried food from packed lunches wafted faintly into the room. Noboru leaned back in his chair and threw his hands up dramatically. "Sike! It's lunchtime."
The room erupted in muffled laughter. Chairs scraped against the floor, a shuffle of feet filled the room as students began to stand and gather their things. Someone opened a bento box, and the faint crackle of plastic wrap accompanied the buzz of chatter.
Hamada-sensei adjusted his tie and gathered his notes, his expression unchanged but his voice calm and direct. "I'll see you in detention after school today, Noboru."
"Wait, what? But sir, I didn't do anything wrong!" Noboru shot up in protest, his chair wobbling behind him.
"Constantly disrespecting me and damaging my reputation every single class is wrong. We'll address this matter after school. And don't be late." Hamada-sensei spoke evenly, slinging his bag over his shoulder before leaving the room.
The chatter filled the empty space he left behind. Shino leaned toward Noboru, her voice quiet but concerned. "What are you going to tell Nanaho?"
Noboru sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Well, it can't be helped. At least now I can probably get away from her clutches."
Makoto, leaning against his desk with an arm over his eyes, muttered in a flat tone, "Are you sure about that? Do you think if she finds out you missed training for detention, she'd go easy on you? I can already see how many suicides she'd make you run." His voice was low, almost a warning.
Noboru froze mid-motion. Panic washed over his face, and he lightly drummed his fingers on the desk. "You're right… I'm screwed. She'll kill me for sure." He slumped back into his chair, rubbing his temples.
Across the room, Sachiko glanced over from her neatly arranged bento box. She picked at her food with measured movements. "So he's at it again today," she said quietly.
Naomi smirked while opening her drink. "Yes. Serves him right. Hamada-sensei finally took action."
At the back of the room, Tetsuo silently stacked a few printed forms into a folder. Without a word, he stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked out. His steps were measured and unhurried, but there was a quiet firmness to them.
"Yo, Tetsuo, where are you going? Aren't you eating lunch with us?" Noboru called out, waving a chopstick.
Tetsuo paused just long enough to glance back. "I won't take long. I'll be right back." His voice was steady before he disappeared into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him.
Noboru leaned back in his chair and exhaled sharply. "Jeez, for crying out loud, he's really a strange one. Ever since Takahashi dragged him out of class to be an errand boy, he's been leaving the classroom every lunchtime. Only God knows where."
He tapped his chin thoughtfully, leaning back until his chair creaked. "Wait a minute… maybe the bastard is visiting a girl. Don't tell me he bagged a hot chick."
Makoto yawned and waved a hand dismissively, his voice muffled as he adjusted in his seat. "Shut up and quit your yapping. Stop jumping to conclusions. I'm trying to nap here."
Naomi leaned toward Sachiko with a mischievous smile. "Oh, did you hear that, Sachiko?"
Sachiko blinked, her voice neutral. "Heard what exactly?"
"Tetsuo might have gotten himself a girlfriend. I told you—you should have been honest with your feelings."
"It's not like that between Tetsuo and me," Sachiko replied, her tone flat, her expression unreadable.
Naomi pouted exaggeratedly. "Oh, well, it's no fun if you don't get all flustered.
" Still, me and Tetsuo have gotten way closer than we used to be, but… I still feel like something's missing. It still feels like we're so far away from each other." She muttered, her tone softened, a small crease forming between her brows.
Meanwhile, Tetsuo pushed open the quiet door of the literature clubroom. The faint scent of old books and wood polish lingered. Tomoe sat by the window with a paperback in her hands. She glanced up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Oh, so you're back again today. Remind me, why are you coming by so often?" she asked, her voice curious but subdued. Her fingers fidgeted lightly with the edge of her book.
Tetsuo shrugged lightly. "I'm not sure myself. Maybe I just felt like it."
He leaned against a nearby desk, glancing around the sparsely decorated room. Dust caught faintly in the light from the window. "So, other than reading, what exactly does the literature club do?"
Tomoe set her book down carefully, smoothing her skirt. "Well, we write stories and publish them together. We also enter essay contests to win prize money and gifts for ourselves and the school. We even go on trips. My favorite was putting on plays based on storybooks during the sports festival."
Tetsuo nodded slowly. "Oh, I see. So that's how it works."
Her gaze dimmed slightly, her shoulders dropping. "Well, that was the case when I joined last year, but…"
"Do you miss those days?" Tetsuo asked quietly, his posture straightening slightly as he watched her face.
She looked toward the window, her fingers tightening on the book. "It's only natural. Those were the happiest days of my life… and they were taken away from me, just like that." Her voice trembled faintly but she didn't look at him.
Tetsuo studied her for a moment. Without a word, he stood and grabbed his bag. "Let's go."
Tomoe blinked, confused. "What do you mean? Go where?"
He unzipped his bag and pulled out a stack of membership forms. "We're going to recruit new members. We can't let this club die when it's just the two of us left."
Her shoulders slumped. "But I told you already, no one would want to join because of me." She rubbed her forearm lightly, glancing away.
Tetsuo moved to the door and glanced back, his tone calm but unwavering. "Did I ask? Are you coming or not?"
She hesitated, but after a moment of silence, she followed him. "The third years are busy with exams and preparing for life after high school," she muttered quietly. "So I doubt any of them would join. Let's ask the second and first years."
As they stepped into the lively second-year hallway, Tomoe's gaze dropped to the floor. She trailed slightly behind him, her steps small and hesitant. The hallway smelled faintly of lunchboxes and disinfectant, layered over with the buzz of students chatting. Whispers followed her everywhere, the weight of lingering rumors pressing down like a constant shadow.
They approached class 2S. A group of girls stood chatting, giggling softly.
"Wow, that's so cute, Kumiko. Where did you get those?" a girl asked, admiring the small trinket Kumiko held.
"I got them for free at a retail store. The owner gave them to me since I'm a loyal customer," Kumiko said with a small smile.
Tetsuo stepped forward, holding the papers. The girls turned their attention to him instantly. His calm, composed posture seemed to draw their gaze without effort.
"Wow, that guy is hot. What class is he in? I've never seen him before," one whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Shh, he's coming over here," another hissed.
Standing in front of Kumiko, Tetsuo met her eyes. She blinked, her cheeks flushing pink, her fingers nervously brushing over her trinket.
"Um… hi. Are you here to see me?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yes. How'd you know?"
"Well… anyway," he said, handing her a form. "I'm part of the literature club. We're facing a crisis. If we don't have five members, the club will be disbanded. Would you be willing to join?"
Kumiko smiled faintly. "Sure. I'm not great at reading books, but I'll give it a shot."
Her friends stared, wide-eyed. "Wow, she already fell head over heels for him," one whispered.
"I can't blame her. He's so handsome and mysterious," another said.
Behind them, Tomoe's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I can still revive the club," she whispered to herself, her fingers lightly holding the hem of her skirt.
But the moment shattered when Kumiko's friend narrowed her eyes, recognizing Tomoe. She leaned close to Kumiko and whispered harshly.
"See that girl behind him? That's Tomoe Yukimura from class 2O. Remember the incident back in first year? Jirou-senpai was beaten bloody and hospitalized. The guy who did it? Her older brother, Hiroki Yukimura. I heard she told him to do it because she confessed to Jirou and he rejected her. Her brother's in prison now. I'd stay far away from her."
Kumiko's face shifted. Her hands fidgeted with the trinket before she walked back to Tetsuo and bowed, holding the form tightly.
"I'm so sorry. I just remembered my friend and I planned to join the tennis club this year. I have to turn down your offer," she said, guilt flickering in her eyes.
Tetsuo stared silently, knowing she was lying. His jaw tensed slightly as he took the form back without a word and turned away. Tomoe followed, her head lowered, fingers clutching the side of her bag.
"Poor guy," a girl muttered behind them. "He's trying so hard to help her, but he doesn't know she has him wrapped around her finger. I guess the rumors are true."
Tomoe heard it. Each word sank heavy. Her fingers curled against her skirt, knuckles pale. She felt like crying but instead lightly gripped the back of Tetsuo's shirt. He stopped and turned.
Her voice shook. "Tetsuo… I really thank you for caring, but can we just stop? We'll only get the same response each time. I can't take more lies."
Tetsuo didn't answer. He kept moving, approaching more students. Each response was slightly different.
A boy adjusted his glasses nervously. "Sorry, I have a lot of responsibilities at home. I barely have time for myself."
A girl hugged a book to her chest. "My cat died recently… I'm still grieving. I can't join anything right now."
Another boy shrugged casually. "I'm already in another club. Can't stretch myself thinner, sorry."
Then a boy scoffed loudly. "Join the literature club? No way. Are you crazy? Stay away from that girl. She's bad news—a manipulative witch. Dangerous."
Tetsuo's eyes darkened. His voice tightened. "Take that back." His posture stiffened, his shoulders squared.
The boy sneered. "What? I'm not taking it back. It's the truth."
"Take it back. Now!" Tetsuo grabbed his wrist, twisting it just enough to make the boy wince in pain.
"Ahh! Alright! I take it back! Are you gonna break my frickin' arm?!" the boy yelped, face paling.
Realizing what he was doing, Tetsuo let go and stepped back. His voice returned to its usual calm. "I apologize." He walked off, his expression unreadable, his breathing steady but heavier.
After countless failed attempts, Tomoe stepped in front of him. She placed both hands on his chest lightly to stop him. Her palms trembled faintly.
"Listen to me," she said, her eyes clouded with sorrow. "I appreciate your efforts. Thank you so much for trying. But no one will join with all those rumors. Please stop. You've done enough."
She turned away and walked back to the clubroom, shoulders heavy, her steps dragging.
Tetsuo watched her retreating back. His hands curled loosely at his sides, tension lingering in his frame. "What have I done? Her eyes… they look even emptier than when I first met her. Maybe if I didn't involve myself with her, she wouldn't have sunken so deep into that pitch-black place where hope disappears."
The school bell rang, echoing through the halls, mingling with faint chatter and the distant slam of lockers.