The warm afternoon sun streamed through the wide windows of Classroom 1-A, casting golden rays that danced across the desks and floors. A light breeze drifted in, rustling the curtains and carrying the soft scent of sakura petals from the courtyard trees.
With the lunch break winding down, students trickled back into the classroom, their voices filling the space like the rising hum of a marketplace. Some returned from the vending machines clutching cool drinks—milk tea cans, lemon soda, or juice boxes—while others came back with small snacks or bags of chips.
The atmosphere had shifted into something relaxed and noisy. Laughter and friendly teasing echoed through the room.
"Yo, that senpai in the cafeteria was a literal goddess. Volleyball team, for sure," one boy said while fanning himself with a notebook.
"Did you see the guy beside her though?" another chimed in. "He looked like he walked out of a drama—tall, serious, carrying a violin case. Like, come on."
"Why are all the hot people in third year?" a girl muttered from her seat, sipping peach soda.
Amid the buzz, Sayori Kojima had once again claimed a corner of attention. She stood on her chair, striking a dramatic pose as if addressing an audience. Her orange eyes sparkled with mischief.
"You commoners shall be blessed once more! I bestow upon you the privilege of playing a multiplayer match with me—a max-level being!" she declared.
"Didn't you say that before lunch too?" one of the girls around her laughed.
"Yes, but this time, I've powered up!" Sayori replied, holding up her phone like a sacred relic. "Prepare yourselves!"
The girls she'd randomly attached herself to—initially bewildered—now just smiled at her antics. Her over-the-top flair felt more like a hyperactive little sister than a diva, and rather than being annoyed, they played along.
"She's like a walking anime character," one of them whispered.
"But, like… the lovable kind."
Meanwhile, Fujimoto Riku, seated two rows behind them, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded. His drink—a cold can of melon soda—rested untouched on his desk. The sunlight hitting his dyed hair gave it a subtle bronze glow.
As the girls erupted into laughter again, he sighed and turned his head slightly.
"Could you lot tone it down? Some of us are trying to maintain post-lunch equilibrium," he muttered.
Sayori blinked at him, dramatically turning his way. "Wow! The silent knight speaks!" she gasped. "What next? Are you going to summon a dragon to enforce classroom rules?"
More chuckles followed, but Riku didn't flinch. He simply replied, calm and even, "Overstimulation after eating reduces short-term memory retention. Keep it up, and you'll be too brain-fried for the entirety of the afternoon class."
A sudden silence fell over the immediate area.
"…Did the delinquent-looking guy just drop psychology on us?" someone whispered.
Another boy leaned in. "Wait, you didn't know? That's Fujimoto Riku—he ranked third in the entire entrance exam."
"No way. Seriously?!"
"Yup. Third place. And here I thought he was just scary."
More students turned their eyes toward Riku, whispering and exchanging surprised glances.
"Third…? But he looks like he should be starting fights behind the gym, not acing exams."
"Yeah, and he's got an older sister who also schools here. Walks her to school and everything. Dude's got layers."
Riku, noticing the stares, looked briefly annoyed but said nothing. He took a sip of his soda and closed his eyes as if tuning out the world.
Sayori, however, smirked. "Hmm. I see now. You're not just a scary face. You're a rival candidate. How thrilling."
Riku opened one eye. "Not interested."
"Too late! Rivalry has been declared!" she beamed, then turned back to her game. The girls beside her exchanged knowing glances and giggles.
As the bell signaling the end of lunch neared, the classroom still glowed with sunlight and chatter. Some students scrolled through their phones, others compared notes, and a few tossed jokes back and forth across the room.
The start of high school life was no longer just the beginning of lessons—but of stories quietly intertwining, waiting to unfold.
The classroom of 1-A glowed warmly under the gentle sunlight streaming through the wide windows. Dust danced lazily in the golden rays as students slowly returned from lunch, chattering excitedly. Some carried drinks from the vending machines, sipping on canned teas and fruit sodas. Others munched on convenience store snacks or treats they'd traded during break.
Nao, Mika, Fumika, and Kenta Yamaguchi were already in their seats, their laughter occasionally rising above the general hum. Sayori Kojima was still energetically babbling about a new mobile game update, waving her phone like a trophy while dragging the other girls back into another impromptu "battle." The room was alive with warmth, voices, and the easy chaos of youth.
Suddenly, the classroom door slid open with a click. A tall male teacher with short, somewhat messy brown hair and glasses stepped in, carrying a leather binder under one arm. The chatter simmered down instantly, the students recognizing their afternoon teacher.
"Good afternoon, class," he greeted casually, setting the binder on the desk. "I hope your first day is going well."
A few murmured replies of "Good afternoon" came in response as the teacher launched into his lesson. Despite the post-lunch drowsiness threatening to claim several students, most listened and took notes as best they could. Even Sayori eventually settled down—though she occasionally drew game characters in the margins of her notebook.
Time passed, and finally, the bell rang.
The teacher clapped his hands once. "Alright, that's it for today. One last announcement—club recruitment will officially start this coming Monday. You'll have the rest of the week to think about which clubs you're interested in, so make sure to use that time wisely."
The moment he stepped out, the room reignited with energy like a match striking a flame.
"Clubs already? I haven't even picked up my textbook!" one boy said dramatically.
"I heard the photography club gets to borrow those cool DSLRs!" a girl chirped to her friend.
"I'm totally joining the cooking club," Fumika whispered excitedly to Nao. "I hope they let us make sweets!"
"Do you think they have a dance club?" Nao replied with a gleam in her eye. "I could totally teach them some idol choreography!"
Meanwhile, Sayori Kojima puffed her chest out and declared to the nearby girls, "You are all welcome to witness the honor of a max-level being like me blessing a club with my presence."
The girls giggled. "She's so funny," one of them said. "It's like having a tiny little empress in our class!"
"I can't believe we're all considering the same clubs as her," another murmured, not sure if she was intimidated or charmed.
A few desks away, some boys whispered, "Do you think Watanabe-san will join the classical music club? I heard she plays piano."
"Nah, she might make her own club. I mean, she's basically a celebrity."
From the back of the class, a few guys glanced toward the windows. "Hey, did you hear about the astronomy club? Apparently, they get rooftop access at night."
"You sure first years are allowed up there?"
"They might make an exception if you're in a club. I wanna join just to see the stars."
Fujimoto Riku leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "All that noise and nobody knows what they actually want to join," he muttered.
"Huh?" one boy beside him asked.
"Nothing," Riku said, closing his eyes again. "Just don't want to end up in a group that wastes time."
Katsuragi Kokoro, who had quietly packed his notebook and pencil case, sat back with a thoughtful expression. Clubs, huh… He hadn't really given it much thought. Drawing was his quiet escape, but would that translate into a club?
Just as he was lost in thought, a familiar voice broke through.
"Yo, Kokoro!" Kenta Yamaguchi leaned toward him from the desk beside his, grinning like a kid with a secret. "You thinking of joining a club yet?"
Kokoro blinked, caught off guard. "Ah—uh—I'm… not sure yet. I think I want to look around first. See what clubs are out there, you know?"
Kenta tilted his head. "Hmm. Makes sense. You don't wanna get stuck in something boring."
"I was thinking… maybe something related to literature," Kokoro mumbled, scratching his cheek. "Since I'm good at drawing, I thought a club like that might help me improve or… I don't know, do something creative."
Kenta gave a thumbs-up. "That's a solid pick. Bet you'd be good at manga or something! You ever try digital stuff?"
"A little," Kokoro replied shyly.
"Well, when you do, let me know," Kenta said with a smirk. "Maybe I'll pitch a video idea and you can make us a thumbnail!"
Kokoro chuckled. For once, he felt a little more at ease.
Around them, conversations continued swirling—students buzzing with excitement, imagining themselves in dance studios, art rooms, science labs, or music halls. The atmosphere was bright, youthful, and full of possibility.
The announcement about club recruitment stirred excitement across the classroom, Nakajima Rei let out a small sigh and leaned back in his seat, one arm slung lazily over the backrest of his chair. He had returned a few minutes before the bell, a canned drink in hand from one of the vending machines lining the school's hallway.
"Clubs, huh…" he muttered as he cracked open the cold can.
A nearby student leaned toward him. "Rei, you thinking of joining anything?"
Rei glanced sideways, eyes half-lidded. "Only if they let me nap between meetings."
That got a few chuckles. "So… nap club?"
"If that exists, I'm president," he replied flatly, sipping from his can with the grace of a man who had no intention of stressing himself anytime soon.
Despite his laziness, a few students admired his effortless cool. He didn't talk much, but when he did, it was either oddly wise or hilariously blunt.
Kenta nudged Kokoro and whispered, "See that guy? That's Nakajima Rei. Dude's got zero energy but somehow never looks tired."
Kokoro followed Kenta's gaze. "He seems… chill."
"Too chill," Kenta replied. "Like, if a fire broke out, I bet he'd roll out of the classroom with his hands in his pockets."
Not far from them, Sayori Kojima was now bouncing in her chair again, prompting Rei to casually shift his desk a few inches away, unfazed.
"Too much energy in this room," he mumbled to himself.
Even though he didn't show it, Rei was listening. He hadn't decided on a club either—but unlike the others, he wasn't in any rush. If something interesting finds me, he thought, maybe I'll join. Until then... naptime.
For Kokoro, it wasn't just the end of the day—it was the beginning of something new.