Chapter 1: NEW SEMESTER
Today’s horoscope said Gemini was in sixth place.
“Kind of average,” I thought while a familiar morning show tune played through the living room.
“Let’s do our best in this new chapter of life! Have a great day!”
The voice belonged to a new female announcer introduced earlier in the program. Her bright smile and lively tone had that fresh, early morning glow.
But that cheerful energy did not really reach me.
I sank into the sofa and let my body relax. I knew I had to leave soon, but I did not want to go.
After a few seconds, something white flickered at the edge of my vision. Soft fur brushed against my head again and again.
It was my ragdoll cat, Shiratama, trying to make me get up. Her fur was not completely white. Gray colored the tips of her ears and tail. My second sister named her Shiratama just because it was her favorite dessert.
“Do you think I will be in the same class as Watarai?”
I asked quietly so only she could hear. Shiratama only licked her paw and flicked her tail.
When I leaned in to nuzzle her, a soft paw pressed against my face. She was not in the mood today.
“Asahi, time to go.” “Yeah.”
My mother’s voice came from the kitchen. I sighed, patted Shiratama’s head as she was already falling asleep, then picked up my light backpack.
“Do you have everything?” “Yeah.”
While I ran a lint roller over my jacket and pants, my mother spoke again, sounding excited.
“Oh, right. I am trying something new today. If it turns out well, I will bring some home.” “What are you making?”
“You will see when you get back.”
She smiled happily. The cooking class she started this spring seemed to really suit her. “I am leaving.”
“Take care.”
The sunlight outside was a little too warm for a jacket. The bike seat that had been sitting in the sun felt pleasantly warm when I touched it.
April makes everything look new. The trees stretched out fresh green leaves, and the streets were full of first-year students. Their backpacks had bright yellow covers, their uniforms did not quite fit, and their bags looked big enough to carry half their world. Everyone was taking their first step forward.
“Hioki, it’s green.”
The voice came from beside me. It was Ino, my friend for six years.
His loafers were scuffed, his tie was loose, and his hair stuck out from sleep. Seeing him like that somehow made me feel calmer.
“Morning. Your bedhead’s still wild as ever.”
I said that while pressing down on the pedals, and the two of us rode side by side down the flat road for a while. Ino, riding next to me, ran a hand roughly through his hair with one hand and pouted.
“It’s always like this. You used to be just as bad, remember? A year ago your hair looked like you were growing weeds on your head.”
“Really? Did it?”
“Yeah. You didn’t care about looks at all back then. Ever since you started hanging out with those guys, you’ve changed.”
Ino shrugged like he was saying “what can you do.” He must have meant Watarai and the others by “those guys.” But had I really changed that much?
At the next red light, we stopped our bikes. I looked toward the convenience store window beside us. My reflection showed hair slightly ruffled by the wind, but no messy spikes sticking out like before.
Now that I thought about it, I had gone to the barber the day before yesterday, and this morning I used the hair oil Watarai gave me. Maybe I really had started to change little by little.
“Well, you’ll get it after spending a year with those four.”
I gave Ino a dry laugh, but he didn’t seem convinced. He folded his arms and frowned, mumbling “hmm.”
“Actually, it’s not all four. You’re just under Watarai’s influence, right?”
As if to answer, the wristwatch I got from Watarai for my birthday last year caught the light.
It wasn’t that I was trying to copy him. I just ended up using what he gave me. Since Watarai is the type to fuss over people, his influence shows up most in my things. The lip balm he
gave me with a casual “I accidentally bought two” sat in my pocket. The fox keychain he handed me saying “I had a duplicate” dangled from my backpack.
I tried to give him gifts too, to even it out, but whenever I did, his return gifts were always double in value. There was no way I could ever balance that exchange.
The light turned green, and cars and people began to move. While I was lost in thought, Ino started pedaling again and said,
“Hioki, if Watarai ever tried to sell you a magic pot, you’d probably buy it. You should be careful.”
“That’s none of your business.”
Of course I wouldn’t. I’d at least hear the story first. When I said that, Ino burst out laughing.
As we turned the corner, more students from our school appeared here and there. The school was still a little farther ahead, and our talk hadn’t run out yet.
“But your personality hasn’t changed, right?”
I snorted, and Ino laughed a little. “Yeah, maybe not. But you know,” he added after a pause, “I think you’ve gotten more selfish than before.”
“Selfish?”
I tilted my head, not understanding what he meant. He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Not in a bad way. Just small stuff. Like, ‘get that for me’ or ‘can you do this.’ Things like that.”
“Really?”
“Well, with a personal butler like Watarai waiting on you, it makes sense.”
Again, the conversation came back to Watarai. He was the one who always fussed over others, and I was the one who let him. Every time he helped me, it just made my uselessness stand out more.
“Was it annoying?”
I asked, feeling a little pathetic. Ino shook his head.
“Nah, not really. I don’t even think about it anymore. Besides, Tsujitani’s so much of a tyrant that everything else fades in comparison.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
Tsujitani had also been my friend for six years, like Ino, but he was on a whole different level. He was completely unpredictable. For example, he had once made me cross-dress.
A memory I did not want to recall flashed through my mind when a cheerful bell rang from behind.
“Who’s the tyrant now?” “Uh…”
“Gah…”
We froze. Of all people, he had shown up.
Sweat ran down my forehead as Tsujitani positioned himself next to me, with Ino on the other side, practically sandwiching me. Then he held his hand out toward us, like he wanted to
show off.
“Listen, don’t say a word. I know exactly what you’re thinking. You were hoping to end up in the same class as me, right?”
He added, with a smug grin, “Being popular is tough, you know.”
Not at all, but I decided to let it slide. It was better than getting him in a bad mood, which was always troublesome.
I started to nod to appease him, but Ino interrupted.
“I’m in the math and science track, so no chance for me, but Hioki, you might actually get lucky.”
“Wait, don’t jinx it.”
Just as I looked to protest, a sudden smack on my shoulder came from the other side. My wheel wobbled, and I quickly grabbed the handlebar. Was he trying to cause an accident?
“Hey, don’t get shy, Hioki.”
“That’s dangerous… and I’m not shy. By the way, what happened to your tie?”
My eyes dropped from Tsujitani’s face to his chest, where something seemed off. He followed my gaze and turned bright red.
“What? No way! I forgot!”
His booming voice echoed down the street. I pressed a finger to my lips, trying to get him to lower the volume, but he was still in full panic mode.
“Hioki! Can you cut my tie in half? Like lending an eraser or something!” “No way.”
“Please! I’m begging you!”
“You already used it at last year’s cultural festival.”
Memories of that embarrassing event ran through my mind, and I clenched my teeth. Yet Tsujitani didn’t seem the least bit guilty. He shook his head as if nothing had happened.
“No, that’s not mine. It’s Ino’s.”
“Hey! Don’t use my life-long favor like that!”
Ino shouted at point-blank range. My ears rang.
Even though the school building was now in sight, we carried on our endless argument right on the street. This was what we looked like as third-year students. We were not exactly role models for the first and second-year students.
“Fine, we’re going back now.”
“High schoolers, stop! Riding side by side is dangerous.”
As Tsujitani tried to turn, a patrol car pulled up alongside us. “Ah, that’s it.”
He said the line everyone was thinking.
The first day of the new semester did not hand us new textbooks or a fresh student handbook. Instead, it handed us a yellow traffic violation ticket.
About five minutes past the assembly time, we finally passed through the school gates. “Yes! Lucky! The class lists haven’t been posted yet.”
As soon as we reached the entrance, Tsujitani pumped his fist in triumph. Despite the crowded chaos, he pushed his way toward the front, weaving through the crowd with determination. His confident back made it hard to believe that just minutes ago he had almost lost his mind over a forgotten tie.
Ino probably thought the same. He looked at me, exasperated. “Is he serious? Are you going too, Hioki?”
“No. I’ll look for Watarai and the others. Go ahead.”
“Okay. I’ll take a picture of the class list with Tsujitani and send it to the group. We’ll meet up later.”
“Thanks, that helps.”
I parted from Ino and pushed through the crowd. At that moment, a ripple of murmurs went through the students. Apparently, the class lists had finally been posted.
As the road opened up and the view cleared, I spotted the four from last year. They were watching the excited classmates around them but didn’t move at all.
Watarai stood glaring at the crowded class list with a stern expression. Honestly, it seemed almost impossible for him to get a clear view from there.
When I approached the group of good-looking guys observing from above, the first eyes to meet mine were Nakazato’s. His big, idol-like eyes reflected me as he waved energetically.
“Good morning, Hioki!” “Morning.”
Finally exchanging greetings with Nakazato, I felt Watarai’s gaze shift toward me.
But not a single “good morning” came from him. He just stared, frozen in place. Maybe he was too shocked that I hadn’t noticed him before Nakazato did.
“Good morning. Ino said he’ll take a picture of the class list and send it to the group.” “…I see.”
His mind was clearly elsewhere. Normally, Watarai would comment on why I was late or notice the change in my hair, but now he completely ignored me. His focus was entirely on the new class.
(It makes sense; he’s probably been curious since the end of the second-year term.) While Watarai was still out of it, I called out to the others standing behind him. “Morisaki, you actually got up on time.”
His response came slow, as usual around three in the morning. Morisaki, whose sleep
schedule had been completely reversed over spring break, squinted through barely open eyes at me, exuding maximum laziness.
“…Yeah, thanks to you,” he muttered in a groggy voice, glancing at the person next to him. Hotta, catching the cue, made a gesture like holding a phone to his ear.
Ah, I see. The most conscientious of our friends must have called him relentlessly to get him up.
“Morning, Hotta.”
I silently appreciated his effort. Hotta’s gaze, however, was fixed on my hair. “Morning… Hioki, did you cut your hair?”
“Uh, yeah… just trimmed a little.”
My answer trailed off. When I glanced awkwardly at the side, my eyes locked directly with Watarai’s.
“…You look cute.”
Maybe it was the tension from the class assignment, the shock of not being able to greet me first, and the despair of not noticing my change, all piling up together, but Watarai said it in a strained, almost choked voice. Someone, please release him from this.
Just then, my phone buzzed with a message. It was from Ino. Seven images had been sent to our eight-person group chat.
“Whoa, this is kind of nerve-wracking,” Nakazato said, unable to hide his excitement, wiping the screen of his phone with the hem of his jacket.
“Don’t point out anyone’s name besides your own,” Morisaki warned, narrowing his heavy- lidded eyes.
“Think Watarai’s okay?”
Hotta pointed toward him and looked at me. The person he was worried about gripped his phone tightly, staring at the black screen.
He did not look okay.
“Do you want to hold hands?”
For now, I put my own class aside. I reached out my hand, and his long, slender fingers intertwined with mine.
“You okay?” “…Yeah.”
Watarai opened the chat app and let out a slow breath. His fingers, usually so sure on the screen, now moved a little awkwardly. The nervousness from our hands touching seemed to spread to me, and I swallowed hard.
The moment of truth had arrived. Watarai tapped the image, and right then “I’m in Class 5 with Watarai!”
“No way, lucky! So that means you’re with Morisaki too?”
The voice carried surprisingly clearly, though it was not very loud. Nearby girls had just spoiled the announcement.
And it was not only about Watarai.
“Senior Nakazato and Senior Hotta are in Class 3!”
“No way! I wonder if we will get the same team for the sports festival.” From another group of younger girls, curious glances were darted our way.
Watarai and Morisaki were in Class 5. Nakazato and Hotta were in Class 3. The excitement ended before I even got to see it for myself. Information travels fast when it involves
noticeable handsome guys.
I looked to my side. Watarai was frozen, as if petrified. Behind him, Nakazato, Hotta, and Morisaki looked disheartened, still staring at the partially enlarged class list on their screens. Their expressions seemed to say, “I wanted to see it myself.”
“Maybe I’m in Class 5 too. Let’s look together.”
I gently squeezed his slack hand. For a moment, I thought I saw a faint glimmer return to his eyes. Yes, if we could end up in the same class, it would be perfect.
Of course, the timing for this kind of hopeful moment always attracts one particular person. “Hioki! Can’t wait to be in Class 2 together!”
The troublemaker pioneer, Tsujitani, had arrived.
“Ah, so he just crushed that little flag, huh?”
“Hey, Hioki. Mind teaching me how to behave when I’m sandwiched between handsome guys?”
Behind Tsujitani were Ino and Minase, another clubmate who had not been around this morning. Minase was apparently in Class 3 with Nakazato and Hotta.
Well, none of that mattered right now. “Hey, are you listening?”
Tsujitani waved right in front of me, but my soul had drifted far away. Next to me, Watarai seemed beyond despair, more like he had reached some kind of enlightenment, and was staring at the clear, blue sky.
Amid perfect spring weather, this tiny bubble of frozen, wintry space had formed just here. This was the start of our third year.
