The final bell of the day was a sweet, sweet release. For Ren, it was simple: his "Go Home" club meeting was about to begin. He packed his bag, his movements clean and efficient, already planning his quiet walk back to the estate.
He was the first one standing, his bag already on his shoulder.
"AND WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!"
Yosuke Hanamura appeared in front of his desk as if teleported, his arms spread wide in a "you shall not pass" pose. "It's 3:30, Ren-kun! The school day is over, but the real show is just beginning!"
Ren just stared at him. "...I'm going home."
"No!" Yosuke said, grabbing Ren's sleeve with a surprising amount of force for a guy who claimed to hate physical exertion. "No, you're not! You're new! You have to see the freak show! It's the best part of the first day! It's a Northwood tradition! Right, Kenji?"
Kenji Ito was already standing, his own bag neatly packed. He pushed his glasses up. "While I wouldn't call it a 'freak show,' Hanamura, the post-assembly club rush is a unique sociological event. It's... culturally informative."
Yosuke beamed. "See? Culturally informative! You have to come! You're part of our pack now, and the pack observes the weirdness together. Pack rules."
Ren let out a long, silent breath. He looked at Yosuke's manic grin. He looked at Kenji's resigned, "just-go-with-it" expression. His quiet walk home was already dead.
"...Fine," Ren said.
"YES!" Yosuke cheered, pumping his fist. "Alright, let's go! First stop, the Kendo hall! My cousin joined last year, and I need to see if he's here so I can mock him!"
The three of them walked out into the afternoon sun, and the campus was somehow even more chaotic than it had been in the morning.
Their first stop was the Kendo hall, which they found by following the sounds of what Ren could only assume was a man gargling gravel while being attacked by a bamboo-wielding demon.
"KOTEEEE! MEN! DOOOOO! KIAAAAAAI!"
They peered through the open door. The hall was hot, humid, and smelled like old wood and sweat. Inside, students in full, terrifying-looking bogu armor were whacking each other with bamboo swords.
"My god," Yosuke whispered, his eyes wide. "That's... intense." He pointed to a guy getting repeatedly smacked on the head. "Hey, that's him! That's my cousin! HA! He's getting wrecked!"
"The discipline is admirable," Kenji noted, wincing as another SMACK echoed. "The noise, however, is not."
"My cousin's insufferable now, you know," Yosuke continued, purely for Ren's benefit. "Thinks he's a samurai. He tried to 'Kiai' his mom when she asked him to take out the trash. He got grounded for a month."
Ren's lips twitched. Just barely.
"Alright, I've seen enough," Yosuke said, checking a mental box. "Let's hit the arts building. I hear the Drama Club is doing 'interpretive dance' tryouts!"
That's how they found themselves five minutes later, staring in baffled silence at a stage where a girl was, very convincingly, pretending to be a rock.
A senior boy with a cape was "expressing the color blue" by rolling on the floor, while another girl was pretending to be a tree.
"Oh... oh my," Kenji said, his glasses fogging up slightly. "This is... even more abstract than I'd anticipated."
"Is she... supposed to be a potato?" Yosuke whispered, pointing at the rock girl. "What is happening? Is this a cry for help? Are we supposed to intervene?"
"To be... or not to be... A ROCK!" the girl suddenly shrieked, curling into a tighter ball.
Yosuke snorted, a laugh exploding out of him. The sound made the 'tree' girl's branches quiver in annoyance. Ren, despite himself, turned his head to hide the small, sharp smile. The pure absurdity was actually getting to him.
"Okay, I'm scared," Yosuke said, backing away. "Let's go see something normal. Like... sports. But from, like, waaaay over here."
He led them to a high walkway that overlooked the massive outdoor sports fields. Below them, the soccer team was in full swing.
And it was impressive.
The field was packed with at least fifty players, all moving in perfect, organized drills. Whistles were blowing. The coach was yelling commands. It was intense, professional, and everyone was clearly taking it very, very seriously.
"Ugh," Yosuke groaned, leaning against the railing as if suddenly exhausted. "Look at all that running. On purpose. In the sun. What a bunch of sickos. My legs hurt just looking at them."
"They did make it to the prefectural semi-finals last year," Kenji supplied, ever the voice of information. "Their organization is top-tier."
"Whatever, 'Smart-Kenji,' don't encourage them," Yosuke muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, I think my 'culture' meter is full. I've seen screaming, potatoes, and... cardio. I'm traumatized. Let's go home."
He turned to lead the way, but Ren hadn't moved.
Ren was standing still, his head tilted slightly, his gaze fixed on the two gymnasiums across the quad.
"Ren-kun?" Kenji asked. "Something wrong?"
"Hold on," Yosuke said, putting a hand to his ear. "I don't hear anything... just the sound of my will to live draining away."
But Ren heard it. He'd been subconsciously tuning it out, but now, with the Kendo screaming and soccer whistles fading, he heard it.
Thump... squeak...
Thump-thump... squeak...
It was a sound as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. The rhythmic, rubber-on-wood percussion of basketballs.
Without a word, his body moved. He put his hands in his pockets and started walking, his path set.
Yosuke let out a groan so loud it was almost theatrical. "Oh, dude, no. Don't go that way. That's the 'Gym of Sadness.' That's where joy goes to die. Trust me, it's depressing."
Kenji nodded. "He's not wrong, Ishikawa-san. The club's reputation is... poor."
Ren didn't stop. He didn't even look back. He just kept walking.
Yosuke and Kenji looked at each other. Yosuke sighed, a gust of pure defeat.
"Pack rules," he muttered, starting to jog after him. "The pack also observes the depressing stuff together! Wait up, you mysterious green-eyed weirdo! Don't go into the haunted house alone!"