I had to shake the weight of the past off my shoulders and toss it aside. At this point, I was one hundred percent certain we were going to be late for school. We'd already missed one train while I sat staring blankly into the void like some tragic poet — and we had just waved goodbye to the next one too. Hinata, bless her, ended up stuck in this mess with me. She probably thought it would be rude to just walk away and leave me sulking on the platform like a melodramatic statue.
And now I felt bad about it. Fantastic.
Long story short, we had to walk to school together — and yep, just as I'd predicted, we were definitely late.
— "If they haven't put up barbed wire at the school gate, we might be lucky," I mumbled, half-serious, half-sleep-deprived.
Hinata smiled.
— "It's club introduction day today. Teachers usually go easy on us... Who knows, maybe this year you'll actually join one."
"Oh, right. That was today, huh." I mumbled, practically chewing the words like stale gum.
Hinata raised an eyebrow like she was about to interrogate me.
— "Still no enthusiasm in those eyes, Takashi. I'm guessing you're signing up for the 'Go-Home Club' again this year?"
She laughed, and I awkwardly chuckled.
We walked all the way to the school gates and gave the duty teacher our best puppy eyes. Miraculously, we avoided any punishment. Had I been alone, I probably would've used the teacher's scolding as fuel to head straight back to the dorms. But luckily, Hinata was with me — and no teacher in this school could stay mad at her.
Clubs, to me, always felt... a bit too social.
I mean, I've spent the past few years perfecting the art of staying put in the same classroom seat like a loyal houseplant. The idea of voluntarily joining a group where I'd have to interact with other humans? Sounds like torture with extra steps.
Imagine hanging out with people. Doing stuff. Participating in events. No thanks.
But that day… something was different.
Maybe it was that identity crisis following the letter.
Maybe I just wanted to fill the hole left by my past.
Or maybe… it was just Hinata being there.
When we entered the school courtyard, it felt like an anime opening scene.
Colorful banners, music blasting from speakers, students dancing, stage performances...
Right at the gym's entrance, each club had set up its own booth.
Some were aggressively handing out flyers like they were recruiting for a cult, others were waving signs like their lives depended on it.
The robotics club was blowing things up, the photography club seemed way too good at catching people at their worst angles, and the sports clubs... well, they were just standing there looking athletic, luring in fresh victims with their "join us or be weak forever" auras.
And me?
I just stood there, taking it all in.
Then it hit me — the chaos of the past week played like a montage in my head. Nonstop running, hiding, fear, action... it was like I'd lived through three seasons of a mystery-thriller show in just seven days.
I'd also made a promise to a friend in the dorms: to learn karate.
I wasn't planning on being his punching bag forever.
And the school did have a karate club.
Perfect timing.
Fight club?
Honestly, didn't sound too bad.
Defending myself... standing my ground, for once.
And maybe — just maybe — being prepared for whatever ghosts my past decided to send next.
While I was scanning the martial arts booths, Hinata got swept away by the basketball club's recruiters.
They had the flashiest booth in the gym's corner — sleek black-and-white banners reading "Shin-Ken Karate Club".
It had this serious vibe to it.
Unlike the chaos of the other stands, this one was calm. Controlled. Almost... intimidating.
There was someone standing at the head of the booth.
And when I saw her… time kind of glitched.
She wasn't just standing there.
She loomed — not in a dark or scary way, but more like the calm, unshakable shadow of a mountain.
The school crest gleamed on the sleeve of her uniform:
Vice President of the Student Council.
Yukari Fujimoto.
Her navy hair fell just past her shoulders, tied back with a traditional red headband that somehow made her already serious face look even more intense.
Her eyes weren't mean. Not the "bad girl" kind.
They were the kind of eyes that punched adversity in the face and didn't flinch.
Then our eyes met.
I flinched.
This wasn't your average schoolyard stare.
It felt like our pupils bowed to each other, like she'd already invited me onto the dojo mat... just to slam me into it.
She walked toward me.
Short, decisive steps.
And then — she stood right in front of me.
— "You new?"
— "Uh… yeah. I mean, yeah, to the club scene..."
— "Name?"
— "Takashi. Takashi Akiyama."
She didn't blink.
Then she gave a slight nod.
— "I'm Yukari Fujimoto. Club president. And the Council Vice President. If you really plan to join, you should speak up. I hate people who waste time."
It hit like a gut-punch.
Did she mean me?
I wouldn't say I was wasting time — more like tangled up in roots of hesitation, like a sapling afraid to grow.
She nudged me lightly with her elbow.
— "So? You applying?"
I lowered my head. Hands in pockets.
Yes.
Because I had to be strong.
Because my mother… couldn't protect me.
And I won't let anyone leave me behind again.
— "Yes. I want to join."
Yukari-senpai nodded once.
— "Good. Today's trial day."
At the far end of the gym, mats were laid out.
Club members were demonstrating moves — some falling in hilariously awkward ways, others looking genuinely impressive.
But Yukari-senpai's presence... was on another level.
She stood like a blade embedded in stone — still, sharp, grounded.
Balance. Focus. Discipline.
Watching her move was like watching the wind shift through the trees — subtle, but unstoppable.
And in that moment, one thought echoed in my head:
"Yukari Fujimoto... She may look quiet, but the strength she carries—it's unreal. Her eyes burned with a fire that never went out."
And I realized something:
I didn't just want to be strong.
I wanted to be like her.