The afternoon sun filtered through the curtains in the room, casting long shadows on the desk of my advisor, Professor Machida.
She looked at me with her arms crossed, her posture stiff, and an expression that made it clear she wasn't impressed with my presence.
"So... again, huh?" she finally said, breaking the awkward silence that had hung in the air since I arrived.
I swallowed, trying to keep a neutral expression. It wasn't the first time I had ended up in this situation; after all, I always had to meet with her during recess. However, that didn't mean it was any easier to face her.
"I just couldn't meet the expectations," I replied with a nonchalant tone. "Same old story, it's no big deal."
Professor Machida raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me for a second.
"No big deal?" she repeated, leaning forward with an ironic smile. "This is the fourth club you've been kicked out of, young man."
She paused dramatically before opening my file, as if she were preparing to savor every moment of my discomfort.
"First it was the chess club because 'you don't know how to play.' Then the drama club because 'you can't memorize lines.' After that, the photography club because 'you don't have an artistic eye,'" she continued. "And now the literature club because 'you can't write.' Do you know what all those reasons have in common?"
I shook my head, even though I knew where she was going with this.
"That none of them are true," she declared, pointing an accusing finger at me. "You simply don't try to put effort into anything."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she raised a hand to stop me.
"Don't try to make excuses. I've known you since the beginning of the year, and I know how your mind works," she added firmly. "You prefer to stay on the sidelines, avoiding anything you consider a bother."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. It was irritating how well she knew me.
"That's not true," I lied, trying to sound casual. "It's just that... I prefer to focus on my studies."
In response, Professor Machida let out a dry laugh.
"Oh, right," she exclaimed in a mocking tone. "That's why your grades are below average."
Touché.
"Listen to me carefully, young Aiga," she continued, adopting a more serious tone. "I'm not asking you to participate in every school event. But at least join one small club."
I frowned, annoyed by her insistence. My quiet and monotonous routine was perfect just the way it was. But of course, I couldn't tell her that, unless I wanted to face a severe punishment.
"I don't expect you to see this as a lecture," she continued, "I just want you to think: is being alone really the best way to spend your time?"
I was silent for a moment, unable to answer. Her words echoed in my head, but I pushed them aside as I always did.
"I'm not sure," I replied with the same old indifference.
Upon hearing my answer, she couldn't help but let out a long, deep sigh.
"Heavens... you really are a pain in the neck," she muttered. "Fine, I suppose you can go back to class now."
"I understand, with your permission I..."
Before I could finish, the professor interrupted me, raising an authoritative hand.
"But before you do..." she said as she began to shuffle through the papers on her desk. "There's something you need to take with you."
She handed me a black and white document. I took it cautiously and quickly examined it.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what was coming next.
It wasn't hard to recognize: it was a sign-up sheet for an extracurricular club.
"Fill out that form by tomorrow," she declared in a firm tone. "That's an order. I won't take 'No' for an answer."
I felt a shiver run down my spine, knowing she wasn't kidding.
"What happens if I don't?" I asked, feigning curiosity.
"Let's just say I'll sign you up for a club myself, one with pretty intense group activities," she replied vaguely, with a mischievous and viperous smile. "So I suggest you find one that actually interests you before you end up there."
I was silent for a few seconds, analyzing my situation. It was clear I had no escape; Professor Machida wasn't going to give in so easily this time.
"I understand…" I finally said, letting out a resigned sigh. "I'll see what I can do."
She nodded, visibly satisfied.
"Good. You may go now," she added, gesturing toward the door. "I expect positive results."
I left the classroom quickly, feeling a slight but lingering heaviness in my body.
I walked through the nearly empty high school hallways, still holding the registration slip in my hand as I made my way back to my classroom. The conversation from earlier echoed uncomfortably in my head, like an unwelcome reverberation.
"Is being alone really the best way to make the most of your time?"
I scoffed under my breath, annoyed. Of course I believed it was.
My quiet, predictable lifestyle was perfect just the way it was. Why couldn't everyone just leave me be?
As I walked, my thoughts drifted to how I ended up here.
This high school—one of the most prestigious in the country—was meant exclusively for the children of influential politicians and businesspeople. My family didn't belong in that world.
They paid the steep tuition and monthly fees with great sacrifices, all because they insisted I would receive a "quality education" here.
I never asked for any of this. In fact, I would've been just as comfortable at a regular public high school.
I lowered my head, tightening my grip on the slip of paper. "What exactly am I trapped in?" I thought as I kept walking.
Suddenly, as I crossed the junction of two hallways, something caught my attention. A girl came running around the corner, carrying a large stack of papers that looked like they were about to collapse at any second.
Time seemed to slow down as I took in her features: messy silver-gray hair, wide expressive green eyes, and a thin, delicate frame that suggested fragility.
Our eyes met briefly, both surprised by the unexpected presence of the other. But that surprise quickly turned into shock as we realized we were about to collide.
It was already too late—we both reacted too slowly.
She slammed into me with force, sending both of us crashing to the floor amidst a flurry of flying papers.
"Ow!" she exclaimed, startled, as she tried awkwardly to get up.
I lay there for a moment, stunned, some of the scattered pages resting on my chest and legs.
I looked up, where the ceiling seemed to slowly spin due to a mild dizziness, before shifting my gaze back to the girl, who now stared at me with a mix of apology and panic.
I frowned, still trying to process what had just happened.
"Hey! What's your—?" I started to complain, but stopped when I saw her embarrassed expression.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her hands trembled as she hurriedly tried to gather the fallen papers. There was something strangely endearing about her clumsiness.
"I'm so sorry!" she blurted out, starting to collect the scattered sheets. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going… and then I saw you! And it was already too late!"
"It's fine," I replied, sitting up and brushing the dust off my clothes.
As I did, I noticed the registration slip was gone from my hand.
"What a mess…" I muttered, slightly annoyed. "The impact must've made me drop an important document. I think it's buried somewhere in all these papers now."
"R-really?" she stammered, looking at me guiltily. "I'm so sorry—let me find it for you."
As she tried, I noticed the papers she'd already gathered beginning to slip from her hands. If she kept going like this, the slip would be lost even deeper in the chaos.
I didn't have much of a choice—I had to step in.
"I guess I should help you out."
The girl looked at me in surprise, as if she hadn't expected someone like me to offer assistance.
"Are you going to help me?" she asked, genuine disbelief in her voice.
At her question, I couldn't help but react in confusion.
"Did I say something weird?"
She shook her head, clearly embarrassed.
"It's just that… usually people don't bother helping me," she explained, lowering her gaze as she continued picking up the papers.
Intrigued, I almost asked her more about it—but decided not to get involved any further than necessary. After all, I already had enough of my own problems.
Finally, we gathered all the papers, but for some reason, I couldn't find what I was looking for. As I wondered where it might be, the girl got my attention with a light tap on my shoulder.
"Is this yours?" she asked, holding up the slip.
"Yes," I nodded. "Thanks, I guess."
She looked at me with expectant eyes, like she'd just discovered something exciting.
"So… you're looking for a club, right?" she asked, leaning in enthusiastically.
Apparently, she had skimmed through it before handing it back, completely ignoring that it could've been something personal and private.
"That seems to be the case," I replied, trying to sound indifferent. "Though honestly, I'm just fulfilling an obligation."
At my response, she quickly moved closer, full of energy.
"That's perfect! I'm actually looking for members for a brand-new club," she said excitedly. "One where you can make great friends and do tons of fun activities together. Doesn't that sound amazing?"
Not even remotely, I thought to myself.
"It sounds… interesting," I said, clearly sarcastic.
But she took my comment as genuine interest.
"Right?! I knew you'd love it!" she exclaimed happily. "My name's Anabelle Sugise. Nice to meet you!"
"Uh… well, I'm—"
Before I could finish introducing myself, the bell signaling the end of break rang across the building. At the sound of it, the girl shot to her feet, visibly flustered.
"Oh no! I'm already late!" she cried, frantically shuffling her papers.
Before leaving, she handed me what looked like a crumpled piece of paper.
"Here you go," she said, handing it over. "If you want more info, read it later. See you after school, okay?"
And with that, she ran off as fast as she could, stumbling slightly while clumsily holding onto her stack of papers. I stood there for a few seconds, still processing everything that had just happened.
I didn't even get to tell her my name, I thought, unfolding the paper she'd given me. Without much expectation, I read its contents:
"Want a place to belong? Come join our club!"
Underneath that phrase were hand-drawn illustrations, accompanied by a short description of group activities. It was clearly an attempt at a promotional flyer—but it looked ugly and poorly drawn.
On the back, there was a small hand-drawn map leading to a part of the high school I didn't even know existed.
The whole thing gave off a suspicious vibe, making me seriously consider tossing the flyer into the trash and forgetting the entire incident.
But then I remembered Professor Machida's threat—specifically the part where she would personally assign me to a club if I didn't choose one myself.
I guess it wouldn't hurt to check it out, I told myself.
With a quiet sigh, I slipped the flyer into my pocket—as a possible option, at least. Anything had to be better than whatever Professor Machida had planned for me, right?
Resigned, I continued walking toward my next class, where the rest of the day would pass in a blur. While the teachers lectured about theories I barely understood, my mind kept replaying the encounter with that girl.
I couldn't shake the image of her hopeful expression or the enthusiasm in her voice when she talked about the club. There was something about her that made me question whether it was really so bad to look for something more… something different.
Nah, that's ridiculous, I thought, trying to push those thoughts away. I'll just go out of curiosity. That's all.