VOLUME #2 - EPISODE 1
[NARRATOR: New volumes mean new characters. New characters mean new chaos. And new chaos at Jeremy High means someone's probably going to end up eating footwear while someone else wears a chicken mask. It's tradition at this point. Also, Riyura has a brother now. That's going to go well. Definitely. No problems whatsoever.]
Morning Light And Strange Introductions
The morning sunlight filtered through the classroom windows with that particular winter quality—cold and bright, like looking at the world through polished glass. Snow had fallen overnight, transforming Jeremy High into something almost beautiful, almost peaceful.
Almost.
Riyura Shiko sat at his desk, his purple spiked hair catching the light at impossible angles, his yellow star hairclip glinting like a small declaration of war against conformity. His red bow tie had achieved a new level of crookedness that defied several laws of physics.
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: Okay. So. I have a brother. A brother I didn't know existed until yesterday. A brother who appeared out of nowhere wearing a mask and looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else. This is fine. Everything is fine. I'm fine.]
He was not fine.
The classroom buzzed with the usual morning chaos—Subarashī was explaining his latest "ultimate technique" to anyone who'd listen (no one was listening), Miyaka was doodling elaborate fantasy scenes in her notebook, Cartoon Headayami was reorganizing his pencils by exact millimeter measurements, and Shoehead was quietly eating the end of the back of his school sneaker while staring into the abyss.
The door opened.
Everyone turned.
Their homeroom teacher—a perpetually exhausted adult named Ms. Tanaka who'd given up on controlling this class three years ago—entered, followed by the new student.
The student with silver hair.
He walked into the classroom with the energy of someone attending their own funeral—resigned, bored, vaguely disappointed that death wasn't more interesting. His white jumper was immaculate. His grayish-black fade pants looked like they cost more than the entire school's budget. His white mask covered the lower half of his face, making his pale gray eyes the only readable feature.
And those eyes swept across the room with surgical precision, cataloging every detail, every person, every potential threat or ally.
"Class," Ms. Tanaka said with the enthusiasm of someone reading their own autopsy report, "this is our new transfer student. Please introduce yourself."
The silver-haired kid stepped forward. His posture was perfect—not Headayami's rigid rule-following perfect, but something else. Something that suggested military training or years of brutal etiquette lessons.
"My name is Yakamira Shiko," he said, his voice flat and mechanical, like a computer reading a script. "I'm sixteen. I transferred from a private academy in Tokyo. I have no particular hobbies. My academic performance is above average. I prefer minimal social interaction."
He paused, his pale gray eyes finding Riyura in the third row.
"I'm also Riyura Shiko's half-brother. We share the same father. Different mothers. The family situation is complicated. I will not be answering questions about it."
The classroom exploded. "WHAT?!" "RIYURA HAS A BROTHER?!" "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?!" "IS HE ALSO INSANE?!"
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: I love how he just dropped that information like a bomb and then refused to elaborate. That's a power move. A terrible, horrible power move that's going to make my life infinitely more difficult, but still. Respect.]
Ms. Tanaka sighed. "Right. Well. There's an empty seat next to Riyura. Please sit there. Try not to let his chaos infect you." "I make no promises," Yakamira said with absolutely zero emotion.
He walked to the desk beside Riyura, his movements precise and measured, like each step had been calculated for maximum efficiency. He sat down. Turned his head exactly thirty degrees to look at Riyura.
"Hello, brother."
"...Hi," Riyura said, his usual host energy completely deflated. "So. This is happening." "Indeed." "Cool. Cool cool cool. Very normal. Not weird at all." "Your bow tie is crooked." "It's always crooked." "I see. That must be frustrating." "You get used to it."
Silence stretched between them like taffy pulled too thin.
[NARRATOR: This was, without question, the most awkward sibling introduction in human history. And considering human history includes several wars started by family drama, that's saying something.]
The Classmates React (WITH VARYING DEGREES OF SANITY)
The moment class ended for lunch, chaos erupted. Subarashī materialized beside Yakamira's desk like a summoned demon, his eyes blazing with competitive fire. "NEW RIVAL DETECTED!"
Yakamira looked up slowly. "I'm sorry, what?"
"YOU!" Subarashī pointed dramatically, his finger approximately three millimeters from Yakamira's face. "You have the AURA of someone who's STRONG! I can SENSE it! The way you walk! The way you breathe! The way you exist! It all screams WORTHY OPPONENT!"
"I'm just sitting at a desk." "EXACTLY! Only a TRUE WARRIOR can sit with such PERFECT POSTURE!"
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: Here we go. Three... two... one...]
"I CHALLENGE YOU!" Subarashī struck a pose that would've made a prideful hero weep. "ROOFTOP! AFTER SCHOOL! WE SHALL DETERMINE WHO IS SUPERIOR!"
Yakamira stared at him for a long moment. His expression didn't change—couldn't change, really, with the mask—but something flickered in his pale gray eyes. Amusement? Confusion? Mild concern for Subarashī's mental health? "I decline," Yakamira said flatly.
"WHAT?! YOU CAN'T DECLINE! IT'S AGAINST THE RULES OF ANIME COMBAT!" "I'm not in an anime character." "WE'RE ALL IN AN ANIME! LIFE IS ANIME!" "That's philosophically debatable."
Miyaka appeared on Yakamira's other side, leaning against the desk with calculated casualness. "So. Riyura's mysterious brother. The plot thickens. Tell me—" She smiled calmly. "—are you also completely insane, or did Riyura get the more chaotic side of the family?"
"I'm quite sane, thank you," Yakamira replied. "That's exactly what an insane person would say." "It's also what a sane person would say. The response is non-diagnostic." He replied back with calming precision.
"Ooh, fancy words. I like him already." She turned to Riyura. "Can we keep him?" "He's not a pet, Miyaka." "Everything's a pet if you believe hard enough."
Cartoon Headayami materialized with his clipboard, somehow having appeared without anyone noticing. "Your uniform is regulation-compliant, but your mask violates dress code section 3.7, subsection B: 'No face coverings except for medical or religious purposes.'"
"It's for medical purposes," Yakamira said without missing a beat. "What medical condition requires a mask?" "Chronic disappointment in humanity. It's terminal."
Headayami actually paused. Considered this. "That's... technically valid. I'll allow it. But I'm watching you." "I'd expect nothing less from a student council president." "How did you know I was—" "Your posture. Your clipboard. The way everyone subconsciously maintains a respectful distance. Deductive reasoning."
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: Okay, he's either really smart or really pretentious. Possibly both. Definitely both.]
Then came Shoehead. He approached slowly, methodically, like a cat stalking prey. He circled Yakamira's desk once. Twice. Studying him from every angle. "What are you doing?" Yakamira asked, tracking Shoehead's movement with his eyes.
"Investigating," Shoehead said seriously. He leaned in close, sniffing slightly. "Checking for unusual eating habits." "I eat normal food." "That's what someone with unusual eating habits would say." "No, it's what someone with normal eating habits would say."
"Suspicious." Shoehead pulled out a shoe from his bag—a worn sneaker that had seen better days. He took a bite, maintaining eye contact with Yakamira. "Very suspicious."
Yakamira's eyes widened slightly—the first real emotion anyone had seen from him. "Are you... eating a shoe?" "Yes." "Why?" "Emotional processing." "That's not healthy." "Neither is pretending to be emotionless when you're clearly experiencing confusion."
Yakamira's eyes narrowed. "Touché."
[NARRATOR: In that moment, a strange respect formed between the kid who ate shoes and the teenager who wore masks. It was weird. Everything at Jeremy High was weird. We'd stopped questioning it.]
Rooftop Showdown (WITH CHICKEN MASKS, OBVIOUSLY)
After school, as winter sunlight painted the sky in shades of orange and purple, the entire friend group gathered on the rooftop.
Because of course they did.
The rooftop had become their place—their sanctuary of chaos and healing, where terrible things had happened but also where they'd chosen to reclaim joy.
Subarashī stood at one end, having somehow acquired a costume that made him look like a fighting game character. "BEHOLD! I HAVE PREPARED FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE!"
"You've prepared for meeting Riyura's brother your entire life?" Miyaka asked. "I'VE PREPARED FOR EVERYTHING MY ENTIRE LIFE!" Yakamira stood at the opposite end, hands in his jumper pockets, expression bored. "I already said I decline." "TOO LATE! YOU'RE ON THE ROOFTOP! ROOFTOP RULES APPLY!"
"What are rooftop rules?" "CHAOS!" Subarashī shouted. "PURE, UNFILTERED CHAOS!" Riyura, who'd been watching this unfold with increasing concern, decided it was time to intervene.
"Alright, alright!" He stepped between them, pulling out his beloved chicken mask. "If we're doing rooftop challenges, we're doing them RIGHT!" He put on the mask. Everyone groaned. "Not the chicken," Miyaka pleaded.
"ESPECIALLY THE CHICKEN!" Riyura struck a pose. "I AM ROOFTOP CHICKEN! And I challenge BOTH of you to a THREE-WAY BATTLE OF ABSURDITY!" "That's not a real thing," Yakamira said.
"IT IS NOW!" Subarashī's eyes lit up. "A THREE-WAY BATTLE?! GENIUS!" He pulled out his dragon mask. "I ACCEPT!" All eyes turned to Yakamira.
He stood perfectly still, his pale gray eyes moving from Riyura to Subarashī to the growing crowd of onlookers (Miyaka filming on her phone, Headayami taking notes, Shoehead eating a boot).
"This is absurd," Yakamira said. "YES!" everyone shouted in unison. "...Fine." Yakamira reached into his bag and pulled out—a fox mask. Pure white with red markings around the eyes.
Everyone froze. "You... you came prepared?" Riyura asked, shocked.
"I researched this school before transferring," Yakamira said, putting on the mask. "The statistical probability of rooftop mask battles was approximately 67%. I came prepared."
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: He RESEARCHED us?! And then PREPARED for our chaos?! That's either really smart or really concerning!]
What followed was possibly the most ridiculous three-way battle in Jeremy High history. Riyura (as Rooftop Chicken) used "aggressive poultry attacks"—which mostly consisted of flapping his arms and making chicken noises.
Subarashī (as Rooftop Dragon) employed "ultimate dragon techniques"—which were just elaborate poses with sound effects.
And Yakamira (as Rooftop Fox) moved with unsettling precision, dodging everything with minimal effort, occasionally delivering perfectly timed pokes to pressure points that made his opponents stumble.
"HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT THIS?!" Subarashī yelled, attempting a flying kick that Yakamira sidestepped effortlessly. "I trained in martial arts for eight years," Yakamira said calmly, redirecting Riyura's "chicken charge" with one hand. "Though I never imagined I'd use those skills like this."
"THEN YOU'VE ALREADY WON!" Subarashī declared. "YOU'VE ACHIEVED THE ULTIMATE GOAL—USING SERIOUS TRAINING FOR COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS PURPOSES!"
The battle continued until all three collapsed on the rooftop, breathing hard, laughing (except Yakamira, who made a sound that might've been a chuckle but could've also been a cough).
The Moment Everything Shifts
As the sun set completely, painting the world in deep purples and blues, everyone sat on the rooftop in comfortable silence.
Riyura removed his chicken mask, his purple hair a mess, his star-shaped pupils reflecting the first stars appearing overhead. "So. Brother. What do you think of Jeremy High so far?"
Yakamira was quiet for a long moment. He removed his fox mask, revealing the white mask underneath that covered his lower face. His pale gray eyes studied the group—these weird, wonderful, impossible people.
"It's..." He paused, as if searching for the right word. "...unexpected."
"Good unexpected or bad unexpected?" Miyaka asked. "I'm not certain yet." Shoehead, still eating his boot, spoke quietly. "You'll figure it out. This place has a way of making sense eventually. Even when it shouldn't."
"That's surprisingly philosophical," Yakamira noted. "I contain multitudes. And footwear." A moment passed. Then Yakamira did something no one expected. He smiled.
Just slightly—barely visible in the dim light, more a subtle shift in his eyes than anything else. But it was there. Real. Genuine. "I think," Yakamira said softly, "I might enjoy it here."
Riyura felt something warm expand in his heart. "Yeah?" "Yes. Though I maintain that you're all completely insane." "Obviously," everyone agreed.
As they prepared to leave, Miyaka fell into step beside Riyura, her voice low. "Your brother's interesting. Calm. Collected. Complete opposite of you." "I know."
"People are going to love that about him. The mysterious, competent one compared to the chaotic, ridiculous one." Riyura's smile didn't falter, but something flickered in his star-shaped pupils—something vulnerable. "Yeah. Probably."
Miyaka squeezed his arm. "But you know what? That's okay. Because you're you. And we love you for exactly that."
[RIYURA'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE: I'm not jealous. I'm not. I'm happy to have a brother. Even if he's cooler than me. Even if everyone's going to compare us. Even if... Stop it. Stop thinking like that. Be the host. Be the light. That's what you do.]
The Subtle Smirk (AND WHAT IT MEANS)
Later that evening, after everyone had gone home, Yakamira stood alone on the rooftop. The city lights spread below him like fallen stars. The winter wind tugged at his silver hair. His pale gray eyes reflected the lights, cold and calculating.
He pulled out his phone. Typed a message.
"First day complete. Integration successful. Subjects are... interesting. Will continue observation." He hit send. Then he removed his white mask for just a moment, revealing a face that was eerily similar to Riyura's—same bone structure, same sharp features—but colder somehow. More controlled.
And he smiled. Not the small, genuine smile from earlier. This was something else. Something calculating. Something that suggested he knew far more than he'd revealed. Something dangerous.
[NARRATOR: And there it is. The warning sign. The red flag. The subtle indication that Yakamira Shiko is not just a transfer student, not just a long-lost brother, but something more complex. Something that might be friend or foe or something in between. Volume #2 has officially begun, folks. And it's going to get complicated.]
He put his mask back on. Pocketed his phone. And walked toward the rooftop exit, his footsteps echoing in the quiet night. Behind him, written in frost on the rooftop railing where no one would see until morning:
"Let the game begin."
TO BE CONTINUED...