Chapter 2: Chapter 1: I’m just a helpless victim.

7:15 am.

I leisurely walked onto school grounds, like I usually do every weekday. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and everything was right as rain.

One can say that I wasn’t a popular guy, nor was I in the "red zone," where kids would be bullied. I was a perfectly average student, who played the part extremely well.

Average Grades.

Average Attendance.

Average Participation.

Average intelligence.

This is how you would describe a mob character, better known as a background person. This may be an unpopular opinion, but being a mob character always beats being the main character. Imagine living your life in peace and never having to worry about drama or anything along those lines. It’s pure, unadulterated bliss.

As usual, everyone else chatted up a storm with their friends while walking to class, and I was alone, but this was by choice and not exile.

While moseying on up to the main building of the school, where the majority of the classrooms are situated, I was greeted by the sight of a male holding a sign that read:

Mashiro Saya, would you please go out with me?

Something like that was a very bold move. Aside from the fact that she’s basically one of the school’s darlings, one can say she's a princess of sorts.

This is the type of person portrayed as the it girl who steals everyone's heart in teen high school movies. Her dark blue eyes are calming, and her strawberry blonde hair suited her all too well. With a height of just over 157 cm, she is essentially a shorty mcshortings, whatever that means considering the fact an average height of a Japanese woman is roughly 158.8 cm. 

Those are the words I’d hear the some of the males in our school use to describe her, and just repeating them back to myself is all too taxing. Still, I’d delineate her as having the face of a biblically inaccurate angel.

Now to put yourself out there like that in a grand declaration of love is, in my opinion, social suicide because the rejection will be just as big, if not bigger, than the proclamation.

Still, I was tempted to watch how the situation played out, not because I wanted to witness pain but because this was the tenth time someone had confessed to her for the school year, and each rejection had been different. This is notable because we actually just started the first term of our freshman year.

Who knows, maybe she would convey her disinterest this time in sign language, but I don't think he’d understand it.

Either way, I didn’t have to wait long considering the fact that Mashiro Saya finally appeared on school grounds. This was the time; she’d usually arrive at school, so this guy made sure to set up before time.

It pretty much shows his dedication.

His hands were basically trembling as she inched ever closer to the sign.

Mashiro had a presence that ensured that you acknowledged her, whether in a positive or negative perspective, so as she walked, a lot of students stepped to the side to give her room.

Finally, she arrived at a good enough distance to clearly read the sign and just walked straight past it.

There was no form of acknowledgement on her part. Not even a brief glance—a complete gut wrench in my opinion—but I could never blame her because I may have done the same thing as well.

That is 99.9% certain, but there is still that other .1% is another story.

On the other hand, if I were the rejected male in this instance, I would have performed my best ostrich impression, so Oscar-worthy that everyone would have no choice but to accept that the entire situation was pretty much scripted.

Now that this brief form of entertainment was over and done with, I continued on my way to the classroom, or a more descriptive way to say it would be the 10th circle of hell.

There was still a lot of time until homeroom, so I could technically take my time, but that doesn’t mean a person like me would have the patience to be stuck behind slow-walking students.

In my opinion, these types of people have no regard for anyone except themselves, which is all fine and dandy. However, they shouldn’t take up all that space by walking in a large group.

Maybe the implementation of two walking lanes in schools will prove quite beneficial and effective. Just picture it: a lane for the fast walkers and another one for those who wish to take their time.

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Something like that could be revolutionary in some sense.

Our school, Kinijro Metropolitan High, is quite an unconventional one; aside from our normal classes, other periodic miscellaneous activities are usually afoot. Well, that’s what I’ve heard a few students, including teachers, say, but I've yet to experience anything out of the norm.

However, there have been a lot of famous and well-accomplished individuals who have graced those corridors, but when asked about their time here, they usually brush off the topic by laughing or switching to another one.

Even though this school is considered one of the leading educational institutions, their selection process differs compared to their counterparts, and educational merit isn’t the only thing that decides your fate. Still, no one knows what really grants you enrollment here.

The entrance exam is simple enough that if the average person dedicated at least an hour and a half every day to studying, it would be enough to score at the benchmark. Still, funny enough, people still manage to score below.

With that being said, our school’s facilities are state-of-the-art, and due to that fact, future competitive athletes usually apply here to take advantage of them.

One more unique thing about Kinijro is that they pride themselves on the freedom of the student body while allowing the student council to operate as the main government. Freedom can be quite a scary thing to give to a teenager, considering that we still typically make the poorest choices under somewhat heavy supervision.

So we can conclude that this is our very own private society for 8+ hours a weekday. 

The internal structure of the school's main building is massive. The school's logo was plastered on the floor right before the stairs we had to take to climb to the second floor, where my classroom is located.

It was a pretty wide staircase where at least five people could walk side by side and comfortably make their way up.

I didn't have five people with whom I could try it, but that seems like a self-made, meticulous assumption.

The stairs were climbed one by one until I reached the middle of the staircase, where it split into two staircases, almost like a fork in the road.

The first-year classrooms were on the left, and the second-year classrooms were on the right. Third-year classrooms, I believe, were heading in the same direction as second-year classrooms.

Upon taking the correct staircase, I entered our territory.

The hallway is wide with large windows, so you could have an outlook on the school's front yard. One could say that it has a very modern design.

Also, the various potted plants that are placed at equally spaced distances along the hallway are a nice addition. It’s something I probably would have done if I were given the opportunity to decorate as well.

I continued walking along the hallway before I was stopped by another student. Tokinori Shiba He’s a student from my class, which is 1-B.

The most basic way to describe him is as an Ikeman. The majority of girls flock to him like ducks to bread, which isn't the most appealing comparison, so let's change it to: The average joe during a Black Friday sale at a store with nearly 50% off items because who wouldn't German suplex another person if it meant getting that thing you've had your eye on for quite some time now?

"Good morning, Yamaguri-kun."

I casually returned his early morning greeting. Despite his popularity, he still takes the time to speak to me, and I’d hope it’s not out of pity or to enhance his image as a good person.

"Oh, good morning, Tokinori."

For whatever reason, the female student next to him made a screw face at me before pulling him away towards the classroom.

Her name being Ikeya Rukako, she’s pretty much a flashy girl, which is displayed through her hair accessories and outfit choices. Her hair is also dyed cherry blossom red.

I let out a sigh, buried my hands in my pocket, and continued on my way to class. The first one I would pass would be 1-D, followed by 1-C, and if you recall the order of the alphabet, you already know where this is going.

Finally, I stood in front of the classroom door and channeled a bit of inner strength. I could already hear the noise from my classmates protruding.

Today is going to be the same as always, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So with that being said,

Let’s repeat the day!

 

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