Morning came too bright.
The sun didn't care that I hadn't slept. That I'd spent the night trembling in the corner like a wounded animal, skin crawling with voices and shadows that didn't belong.
I peeled myself off the floor slowly, every muscle sore like I'd been dragged across glass. My uniform was wrinkled, my eyes dry, and my soul... gone. Or maybe just misplaced.
By the time I made it to the bathroom, the other girls were already gone. Their perfume still lingered in the air, light and sickly sweet. I stared at my reflection. I looked like something out of a ghost story.
Dead-eyed. Pale. Quiet.
Perfect.
After quickly getting ready, I tugged my uniform straight, brushed my hair, and stared at myself in the mirror for a beat too long.
I didn't say a word as I grabbed my bag and left for class.
The hallways of Aokigahara Academy were too quiet, even when they were full of people. Conversations drifted like fog whispers, glances, and laughter that never seemed to touch me.
Still, I felt them.
Eyes.
Watching.
Some hidden, some not. Some trailing me like shadows down every corridor.
I walked faster.
Room 3-A was my first class of the day: Advanced Literature.
I stepped in, clutching my schedule like a shield. The teacher looked up from his desk and gave me a brief nod.
"You must be L/n Y/n," he said. "Take the empty seat by the window."
I nodded and moved to sit without looking around. I could feel them watching already. The moment I sat, the chair shifted. Someone whispered.
"She's here."
"That's her?"
I kept my eyes on the desk.
"Hey," a voice drew next to me. Deep. Lazy. Amused. "You're the new girl, huh?"
I glanced up. A boy with half-lidded eyes and a smug smile was leaning in his seat beside mine. His dark hair was tousled, his tie loose. He looked like he hadn't put in an ounce of effort, and yet somehow it worked on him.
"Suna Rintarō," he said, offering a hand.
I didn't take it. "Y/n."
"Ooh. Cold. I like that." He chuckled, leaning back. "They said you were quiet. But I didn't expect funeral-level silence."
I looked out the window.
"She's not interested, Suna," another voice said behind us, laced with sarcasm. "Try someone who'll actually entertain your flirtations."
I didn't turn, but I caught a glimpse of blonde hair and glasses in the reflection.
"Kei Tsukishima," he said anyway, as if I asked. "Don't worry, I'm not the friendly type."
Was that supposed to be comforting?
"Don't mind him," another boy said from the other side of the room. He had silver hair tied back and a sleepy but sincere smile. "He's just grumpy when he doesn't get his morning coffee."
"Shut up, Semi," Tsukishima muttered.
"Y/n, right? I'm Semi Eita. Music major. If you ever want to hang around a less... intense group, I can introduce you to some of the normal people on campus."
Normal?
I almost laughed. As if anyone in this place could be called that.
Before I could reply, the door burst open.
"WE'RE NOT LATE!"
Two identical voices echoed down the room, followed by two bodies crashing through the door like a pair of hurricanes. One was grinning wildly, the other panting with a sheepish look. One had shiny blonde hair while the other had greyish hair both with identical uniforms in disarray.
"You are late," the teacher sighed.
"We were running!" the grinning one said. "That counts for effort, right?!"
"Sit down, both of you," the teacher muttered. "Before I dock your scores again."
They collapsed into the seats directly in front of me, still catching their breath. Then the louder twin spun around and grinned at me.
"Hey! You're new, right? I'm Atsumu!"
The other turned too, offering a small wave. "Osamu."
They blinked at me in unison.
"Whoa," Atsumu said, tilting his head. "You've got that 'main character in a horror film' look going on."
"Don't be a creep," Osamu sighed.
"I meant it as a compliment!" Atsumu defended. "She's got the sad, mysterious vibe. Kinda hot."
"I'm not interested," I said flatly.
Atsumu grinned wider. "Bet I can change that."
"Bet you can't," Suna smirked.
"Oh? You wanna compete?"
Semi rolled his eyes. "You two are unbearable."
"Everyone," the teacher snapped. "Shut up."
Class passed in a blur of ink and distant laughter. The teacher droned on about metaphors and symbolism, but I couldn't focus.
Not with them.
Not with the way they watched.
Suna kept glancing over, chin in hand, like I was more interesting than anything on the page. Atsumu kept trying to pass me notes, little folded squares with doodles and pick-up lines. Tsukishima pretended I didn't exist, but every time I shifted in my seat, his eyes flicked my way. Semi offered a few kind smiles, but even those felt... too practiced.
And Osamu?
He watched when he thought I wasn't looking. Quiet. Calculating.
Every time our eyes met, he looked away first.
By the time lunch rolled around, I thought maybe just maybe I could find somewhere quiet to disappear. A shadowed corner of the courtyard, the rooftop, even a supply closet would do. Anywhere but here.
But fate, apparently, had other plans.
"Y/N!" a loud, unmistakable voice called as I stepped out of the classroom.
I turned slowly, praying it wasn't who I thought it was.
Of course, it was.
Bokuto Kōtarō was jogging toward me with the energy of a golden retriever on espresso. His tie flapped behind him, his blazer completely unbuttoned. "There you are! We saved you a seat!"
Saved me?
A seat?
I blinked. "What?"
"For lunch!" he beamed. "C'mon, the whole council's waiting!"
Council?
Before I could protest, he'd already thrown an arm around my shoulder and was steering me down the hallway like we were old friends.
"Have you eaten yet?" he asked. "No? Great! We're getting katsudon today. Terushima says it's the best, but Oikawa keeps whining about carbs-"
"Kōtarō," a smoother voice interrupted. "You're overwhelming her."
Bokuto turned, grinning as Kuroo approached with his usual catlike grin. His black hair was a mess of spikes, and he held a tray of food with the confidence of a guy who always got what he wanted.
"She's fine," Bokuto said. "Right, Y/N?"
I stared up at Kuroo. "You're all... the student council?"
"Technically," Kuroo smirked. "We run this place."
He led us through the winding corridors to a private section of the courtyard. A long stone table sat beneath a wisteria tree, surrounded by an eclectic group of boys I recognized and dreaded.
Oikawa was seated at the end, carefully unwrapping a bento box with all the grace of a prince. "She came!" he said brightly, eyes locking onto me.
"Y/N-chan~! Come sit beside me, I've been saving your spot!"
"She's sitting next to me," Terushima cut in, patting the seat beside him. His blonde hair glinted in the sun, and a small hoop glinted from his lip.
"I promised I'd show her how to sneak pudding from the teacher's fridge."
"I don't think that's a selling point," I said.
He winked. "Depends who you ask."
"What's going on?" I whispered to Bokuto.
He looked genuinely confused. "Lunch?"
"It feels like a trap."
Suna, already seated with his lunch half-eaten, raised a brow. "Everything's a trap here."
"Especially with this group," Tsukishima muttered from across the table, arms crossed as he watched the chaos unfold.
Atsumu waved excitedly from the far side. "Y/N! Over here! I got the seat closest to the vending machines in case you want juice! Or to run away!"
"I vote run," Osamu said, deadpan.
"Don't scare her off!" Oikawa snapped. "She just got here!"
I stared at the collection of boys beautiful, intense, chaotic and wondered how the hell I had ended up in the center of them.
Student council, my ass.
This was a circus.
"I'll just stand," I said finally.
"Nope," Kuroo said smoothly, grabbing a chair. "You're sitting with us. Might as well get used to it."
I hesitated.
Then, slowly, I sat.
Every eye at the table watched me. Every smile felt too sharp. Every laugh had too many teeth.
They were too kind. Too interested. Too perfect.
And all of it felt wrong.
Bokuto shoved a lunch box into my hands. "Eat up, Y/N! You're gonna need your strength."
"For what?" I asked, suspicious.
Kuroo just smiled, resting his chin in his hand.
"For surviving."
I looked around the table, curiosity cutting through the fog of exhaustion and suspicion.
"So..." I began hesitantly, "if you're all in the student council... who does what? Like, what's your position?"
The table quieted for a beat, eyes flickering between each other before Kuroo leaned forward, a lazy grin curling his lips.
"I'm the president," he said smoothly, "the one who keeps this chaotic circus somewhat in line."
Bokuto puffed up proudly. "I'm vice president! Basically Kuroo's hype man."
Terushima gave a small smirk, crossing one leg over the other. "I handle public relations. You know, the face and charm of the council."
Oikawa sighed dramatically, sliding his bento box aside. "I'm the secretary. I keep track of meetings, events, and occasionally manage the schedule of our fearless leader." He gave Kuroo a pointed look.
"That explains the caffeine addiction," Tsukishima muttered dryly from across the table, folding his arms.
"Hey, I'm in charge of discipline," Suna said with a grin, wiping sauce off his fingers. "Think of me as the 'enforcer.'"
Semi, sitting quietly near the back, added with a small smile, "I'm the treasurer. Numbers and budgets, all that fun stuff."
Atsumu and Osamu, the twins, exchanged a look. Atsumu grinned wide and threw up two fingers. "Co-heads of events! We plan parties, school festivals, you name it."
Osamu just gave a brief nod. "Mostly we make sure Atsumu doesn't get us into too much trouble."
I blinked, trying to take it all in. "That's... a lot of roles."
Kuroo chuckled, resting his chin in his hand. "Welcome to the madhouse, Sweetheart."
Bokuto leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with excitement. "You forgot to ask the most important question!"
I tilted my head. "What's that?"
"What's your role gonna be?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows like it was some grand mystery.
"I... don't have one?" I replied slowly, confusion creeping in. "I'm not even in the council."
"Oh, but you are now," Oikawa said, too sweetly, sipping from his juice box. "The moment you walked into this room and sat at this table? You basically signed a contract."
"A blood contract," Suna added ominously, then smirked at my startled expression. "Kidding. Mostly."
Kuroo gave a mock-serious nod. "Look, you've already survived sitting with us during lunch. That makes you braver than half the school."
"You're officially... a 'special assistant,'" Terushima declared with a dramatic wave of his hand. "A very vague, undefined position that we'll conveniently mold into whatever we need."
"Sounds like a fancy way of saying 'errand runner,'" Tsukishima said under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was amused.
Semi leaned forward, offering a small, sympathetic smile. "Don't worry. We'll go easy on you. At first.."
Atsumu clapped me on the back, a little too hard. "Welcome to the council, Y/n!"
I stared at them, wide-eyed. "I didn't even say yes."
"You didn't have to," Osamu said, already unwrapping a rice ball. "No one ever does."
And just like that, the lunch bell rang, and I had apparently joined the most unhinged student council this school had to offer.