Kura Tomohiro had long accepted his place in the world.
Not everyone was meant to stand out. Some people were simply meant to exist in the background, living quiet lives that no one would remember. Kura had made peace with this truth somewhere around middle school, when he realized that no amount of effort would make him special.
He wasn't athletic. He wasn't particularly handsome. His grades were average. He had no talents, no charisma, no defining features that would make anyone look twice.
Kura Tomohiro was, in every sense of the word, ordinary.
The morning routine was automatic. Alarm at 6:30. Shower, uniform, breakfast. His mother had already left for her nursing shift, leaving a note on the table with lunch money. His father... well, his father had been gone for years.
By 7:45, Kura was walking toward Nagasaki High School through quiet residential streets. Other students walked in groups, chatting and laughing. Kura walked alone. Not because people actively avoided him—nothing so dramatic. He simply existed in that peculiar social blind spot where people didn't notice him enough to invite him into their groups.
Nagasaki High School loomed ahead, a modern three-story building known for producing excellent students. Walking through the gates felt like entering a different world—one where everyone had their place clearly defined.
At the top of the hierarchy were the school's "royalty."
Sakurai Takeshi—captain of the soccer team, tall and handsome with natural charisma. The kind of person who excelled at everything without trying.
Fujimoto Yuki—vice president of the student council, brilliant and beautiful, from a wealthy family. She moved through the school like she owned it.
And then there was Shirayuki Ayame.
If Nagasaki High had a princess, it was her. Beautiful in an almost ethereal way, with long black hair and gentle features. But more than that, she was kind—genuinely kind—in a way that seemed impossible. Where Fujimoto's brilliance came with sharp edges and Sakurai's popularity came with arrogance, Shirayuki treated everyone with the same gentle warmth.
She was the school's idol, beloved by everyone.
Completely out of reach for someone like Kura.
Kura made his way to Class 2-C and took his usual seat near the back by the window. The protagonist's seat in every anime he'd watched, though in real life it just meant teachers sometimes forgot he was there.
The seat directly behind him belonged to Daisuke Hiroshi.
Daisuke was... complicated. Like Kura, he seemed to occupy the same invisible space in the school's social hierarchy. But where Kura had accepted this with quiet resignation, Daisuke carried it like a wound that never healed. He always looked vaguely angry at the world, always scowling at something, always alone.
They'd never really talked much. Two invisible people rarely acknowledged their shared invisibility.
Students filtered in as the morning bell approached. Kura pulled out his phone and opened his reading app, diving into the latest chapter of a light novel about a summoner transported to another world.
"Tomohiro-kun?"
Kura nearly dropped his phone. He looked up to find Shirayuki Ayame standing next to his desk, her expression showing polite concern.
His brain short-circuited. Shirayuki Ayame. THE Shirayuki Ayame. Speaking to him. Using his name.
"Y-yes?" he managed.
"I'm sorry to bother you," she said, actually looking apologetic. "But I was wondering—did you find a notebook in the library yesterday? I think I left mine there, and I remember seeing you studying."
Yesterday. The library. Kura's mind raced through the memory. He'd been there after school, reading in a quiet corner. He had seen a notebook on a nearby table.
"Oh—yes, I think I saw it. I gave it to the librarian."
Shirayuki's face lit up with relief. "Thank you so much! I was worried I'd lost it." She smiled at him—a genuine, warm smile that made something in Kura's chest tighten. "You're always so thoughtful, Tomohiro-kun."
Always? Had she noticed him before?
"Oi, Ayame-chan!"
Sakurai Takeshi appeared with two of his friends, that easy smile that came with being the center of attention. He placed a hand on Shirayuki's shoulder with casual familiarity.
"Don't waste your time with nobodies," Sakurai said lightly, his eyes barely acknowledging Kura's existence. "Come on, let's go before homeroom starts."
"Ah, but—" Shirayuki glanced between them.
"I'm sure he doesn't mind." Sakurai was already guiding her away. "Right?"
Shirayuki gave Kura an apologetic look before being swept into Sakurai's orbit.
Nobody. That's what Sakurai had called him.
Behind Kura, he heard movement. Daisuke had arrived, dropping into his seat with more force than necessary. Kura glanced back and caught Daisuke staring in the direction Shirayuki had gone, his jaw clenched tight, that familiar scowl somehow deeper.
"Lucky bastard," Daisuke muttered.
"What?"
"Shirayuki-san. Talking to you." Daisuke's voice was flat, but there was something beneath it. Bitterness? Longing? "She never talks to me. Never even looks in my direction. But you get a conversation."
Kura didn't know what to say. It wasn't like he'd asked for the attention.
"She was just asking about a notebook," Kura said quietly.
"Still." Daisuke leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "Must be nice."
The homeroom teacher arrived, and the morning routine began. But Kura couldn't shake the interaction. Shirayuki had called him thoughtful. She'd implied she'd noticed him before. And she'd smiled at him like she actually saw him.
For someone who'd spent years being invisible, being seen—even for a moment—felt both wonderful and terrifying.
The day progressed normally. English, Chemistry, Modern Japanese, Physical Education. By lunchtime, Kura had retreated into comfortable numbness.
He found his usual spot on the roof, technically off-limits but never monitored. Nakamura Kenji joined him—his only real friend, another person at the bottom of the social ladder.
"Did you finish the chemistry homework?" Nakamura asked.
"Yeah, it wasn't too bad."
They ate in comfortable silence, the kind that came from mutual understanding. Below them, the school grounds bustled with the complex social ecosystem of high school.
"You ever think about what you'll do after graduation?" Nakamura asked suddenly.
Kura shrugged. "College, probably. Get some boring job. Live a boring life."
"That's depressing."
"It's realistic."
Nakamura laughed hollowly. "Fair enough."
The bell rang. Kura gathered his things, ready for another few hours of classes before he could go home and lose himself in stories about people to whom interesting things actually happened.
Fifth period was World History with Tanaka-sensei.
And that's where everything changed.