As the sun rose on January 9th, the two-week winter vacation officially came to an end.
Looking back, Oikawa couldn't help feeling it had been an incredibly fulfilling break.
Especially when it came to finally taking the final step with Kawasaki. That alone had settled something deep inside him.
Home is wherever your heart finds peace.
For some reason, Chiba felt more like home than ever before.
And maybe there really was something wrong with him. Compared to vacation, he found himself looking forward to going back to school even more.
After breakfast, he boarded the bus and, after what felt like forever, walked through the gates of Sobu High School again.
"Happy New Year! What did you do over break?"
The familiar greetings echoed all around him.
Apparently, he wasn't the only one who had missed school life.
Students who hadn't seen each other for weeks were buzzing with excitement, and the entire campus was alive with energy.
The moment Oikawa stepped into Class 2-F, he immediately noticed Hina Ebina and Yumiko Miura staring at him.
Especially Miura. She frowned, her eyes slowly scanning him from head to toe.
"Oikawa-kun, Happy New Year!"
"Happy New Year, Oikawa!"
"So, Oikawa, what'd you get up to during break?"
The people he was close with greeted him one after another. Though, in truth, "close" only really described the handful of classmates sitting around him.
After exchanging a few casual greetings, Oikawa noticed the familiar survey form sitting on his desk and paused. "Huh? Post-Graduation Plans Survey? "They're already handing these out? I thought we'd have a little more time before class placements."
They'd filled out similar forms before, but this would probably be the last one.
February would mark the end of their second year.
And after that... No matter how reluctant anyone might be, the time would come to enter their third year and split into the humanities and science tracks.
With winter break over, finals weren't far away. After that would come spring break.
For some reason, Oikawa suddenly felt a pang of reluctance.
Sure, there were still classmates whose names he couldn't remember, but that didn't mean he wasn't attached to Class 2-F.
Somehow. After the New Year, Sobu High felt quieter.
The third-year students had stopped coming to school after winter break so they could focus entirely on university entrance exams. With a third of the student body gone, the campus felt strangely empty, and Oikawa found it difficult to get used to.
Come to think of it, this would probably be the last winter he ever spent in high school.
Meeting people. Parting from them.
Neither ever seemed to happen on anyone's terms.
Nearby, the popular crowd had also started comparing their choices.
Tobe looked unusually nervous as he wandered over to Ebina. Trying to sound casual, yet somehow making it painfully obvious, he asked, "Ebina... are you going humanities or science?"
"I'm probably choosing humanities. What about you?" Adjusting her glasses, she tossed the question back at him.
Tobe visibly brightened. "I... uh... I'm leaning toward science, actually. But I haven't decided yet. Maybe I'll switch to humanities after all. We could still end up in the same class."
"I think you'd better stick with science." Ebina smiled. "Your humanities grades are honestly pretty terrible, Tobe. If you choose that track, you might not even get into college."
"Really?" Tobe scratched the back of his head and grinned. "Haha... you're smart, Ebina."
Oikawa rubbed his forehead.
'Could this idiot make it any more obvious?'
Seriously, how did someone with a personality like that ever become popular with girls?
"How about you, Yumiko?" Ebina turned toward Miura.
Miura absentmindedly twirled a lock of her blonde hair, looking slightly conflicted. "I'm still thinking about it. I'll probably take the national entrance exams, so I'll have to study both humanities and science seriously anyway. It doesn't make much difference which track I pick."
She already had a clear plan for her future.
Which wasn't unusual. At Sobu High, about eighty percent of the students had already mapped out their futures before they even enrolled.
As for the remaining twenty percent... The teachers made sure to keep calling them in throughout their first and second years until they had a concrete plan.
Schools with high academic standards in Japan generally offered that kind of guidance.
"That sounds like a lot of work, Yumiko." Yui looked at her sympathetically.
There actually weren't many students at Sobu High who took the national entrance exams. It was more common among students from less affluent families trying to maximize their options.
Miura, however, clearly wasn't in that category.
"It can't be helped. I'm planning to study abroad for graduate school after university. Going through a national university will make that easier." She said it with unmistakable pride, as if that path fit perfectly with the kind of life Yumiko Miura was meant to have.
Then she turned to Oikawa. "What about you? Got any plans for your future?"
There was genuine curiosity in her eyes.
Truthfully, she wanted to ask about the second volume of Clannad much more. But a classroom wasn't exactly the right place for that conversation.
Oikawa smiled and simply said, "Make big money."
Miura blinked. "And?"
"That's it. My life plan is to make a lot of money."
His answer left her completely at a loss.
The glamorous image she'd built up of Oikawa as some profound literary genius shattered on the spot.
Without another word, she calmly turned back around, acting as though she'd never bothered asking such a deep question in the first place.
Yui quietly covered her mouth, the corners of her lips curling upward.
It wasn't often that Miura got completely stonewalled. She almost wished she'd taken a picture.
Oikawa, on the other hand, was the baffled one.
Young people always imagined their futures would be extraordinary. They dreamed of becoming someone remarkable.
But honestly... Making a lot of money was a dream countless adults would give anything to achieve.
When you're young, you're free to dream. Once you step into society, though, life becomes a constant struggle over rent, groceries, and bills.
There were probably countless Van Goghs and Picassos in this world.
But most of them simply died beneath the crushing weight of reality.
.
.
.