My phone alarm buzzed softly at 5:00 AM, dragging me out of shallow dreams.
"...Ah."
The ceiling above me felt unfamiliar, painted with faint shadows of dawn. For a moment, my foggy mind expected to see the white plaster of my old bedroom, with its peeling corners and some smudges. But instead, there was only the wooden ceiling of my new room.
Right… this isn't home anymore.
This is Sakurasou.
I exhaled quietly, gathering my scattered consciousness. The faint blue light of early spring seeped in through the window, painting the floorboards in a cold hue. Outside, the sky beyond still half-draped in the gentle dusk of an late March morning. A typical spring dawn, dim, a bit chilly, tinged with the promise of warmth later.
With a soft groan, I sat up on my bed and stretched my arms overhead, feeling my spine pop lightly. The familiar soreness of sleep loosened.
I changed into my black tracksuit, slipping on my training shirt underneath. One by one, I gathered my essentials: my jump rope, water bottle, weighted bands, neatly into my worn grey duffel bag. Lastly, I pocketed my phone and looped my headset around my neck. Music later. For now, silence felt fitting.
Stepping out into the hallway, the dorm was hushed in half-light. The dorm was silent at this hour — the kind of silence that felt soft rather than empty. Everyone else was still buried in dreams and blankets.
Even with old wall and flickering hallway light make it almost like haunted house, Sakurasou still carried that warmth of people living together — messily, noisily, but together.
I headed into the communal bathroom, flicking on the cold tap to splash my face awake. The icy sting jolted my senses, sharpening my focus. I inhaled deeply and exhaled, fog curling faintly on the mirror.
"Alright."
Today was another morning. Another day to build, little by little, towards the plans I carried in silence.
As I turned towards the entrance, duffel bag slung over my shoulder, a flicker of movement caught my eye from the common room. The lights were dim, but not dark. Curious, I paused at the doorway.
There, near the kitchen counter, stood a tall, lean figure in a loose black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his long black hair tied back into a low ponytail that reached his shoulder blades. His bangs, untrimmed and slightly uneven, framed a pale face with tired, sharp eyes – eyes that seemed both half-lidded and intensely awake at the same time.
He moved with quiet precision, retrieving a water bottle from the fridge with minimal sound, as if any unnecessary noise was a waste of energy.
Ah…Akasaka Ryuunosuke.
The legendary shut-in programmer of Sakurasou. Seeing him in person for the first time, I understood immediately why people found him intimidating – his aura felt distant, analytical, like someone whose thoughts never paused long enough to bother with small talk.
Before I could decide to greet him or not, he noticed me, his gaze flicking up with mechanical accuracy. He blinked once, expression unreadable.
"…The new one, right?" His voice was quiet but clear, flat in tone. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"
I straightened politely, my heart calm. "Good morning, Akasaka-senpai. I always wake up at five to exercise."
He stared at me, unblinking, the silence stretching for several seconds. Then his eyes narrowed just slightly – a micro-expression of irritation or… maybe discomfort.
"…Just call me Ryuunosuke," he said finally, his tone still flat but with a faint undercurrent. "Using family names is tedious."
My eyebrows lifted slightly. That was… surprisingly lenient for someone with his level of social avoidance. I let a small polite smile form on my lips, understanding his intent without pressing it further.
"Understood, Ryuunosuke-senpai."
He clicked his tongue softly, twisting open the bottle cap with a small snap. "Do whatever you want. Just don't disturb my network bandwidth during your morning activities."
"I won't. Thank you."
He took a sip of water, then turned away without another word, heading towards the staircase with silent steps, his long hair swaying gently behind him. The air felt cooler in his absence, his presence like a passing shadow in a quiet dawn.
I exhaled softly, watching him ascend to the second floor.
Akasaka Ryuunosuke.
The genius who built an AI to handle his social life. From what I saw… he wasn't cruel or arrogant. Just deeply avoidant, his social skills dulled and corroded by years of isolation. It's a logical conclusion, really. Many geniuses end up like this – praised for their intelligence but left alone in the one thing they truly need guidance in: people.
But…
Here in Sakurasou, he seemed softer. Maybe because he lived among others who genuinely cared for him, outliers and outcasts bound together by strange camaraderie. Even if he rejected it, that warmth still reached him… little by little.
His treatment, was ironically straightforward – Chihiro-sensei's unintentional therapy: a natural environment of friends, family, and mild chaos slowly pulling him out of isolation.
It worked… because he could still feel emotions, even if dulled and tangled with anxiety, and uncertainty. Unlike Mashiro.
Mashiro…She couldn't even feel in the first place.
I sighed, adjusting the strap of my duffel bag as I stepped out the front door. The cold spring air brushed against my cheeks, carrying with it the faint scent of dew and budding flowers.
--------------------------
Before I started jogging, I slipped on my headset, checked the time – 5:12 AM – and scrolled to my playlist.
Jogging wasn't just training. It was also a way to get to know my new home.
I was a new student, after all, and it only made sense to familiarise myself with the area around Sakurasou and Suimei so I wouldn't get lost later.
As I stepped out, dawn's gentle chill wrapped around me. The sky was still dusky lavender, with streaks of gold stretching above the low rooftops.
Sakurasou sat in a quiet residential pocket west of the university. From here, it was only a ten-minute walk to the high school division gates of Suimei University of the Arts. Their design tower rose like a muted sentinel in the morning light, its metal-clad facade catching the first glimmers of the sun. Beyond that, I knew, were the university's library and animation studios.
Heading north, about fifteen minutes away, was the station square — a small but bustling hub that would wake up in another hour. I passed the shuttered bakery and the silent bus terminal loop, its neon signs still half-lit. The station mall loomed nearby, its glass windows reflecting the pale sky. Bookstores, cafes, and a 100-yen shop clustered inside. I noted it all. Useful landmarks for daily life.
To the west, across the station plaza, the landmark tower stood tall — maybe twenty-five or thirty floors, nothing like Shinjuku's skyscrapers, but more than enough to serve as a navigational beacon. Its upper floors were rumoured to host art exhibitions and administrative offices.
South of Sakurasou, after a light jog past an empty ramen shop with its red noren curtain still drawn and weaving past a row of vending machines humming softly in the dawn and a shuttered convenience store waiting for its first customer, I reached the community park.
The park was empty at this hour. Sakura petals fluttered down in the gentle breeze, settling onto the playground slide and empty benches. I found a bench facing east, set down my duffel bag, and took a long sip from my water bottle. The cold seeped into my chest, grounding me.
I exhaled slowly. At least now I had a rough map in my head — the dorm, the campus, the market streets, the station square, the park. The routes I'd take tomorrow were already forming in my mind,
'At least now I know where everything is. Tomorrow… I'll take the eastern route.'
I set down my water bottle and duffel bag under the tree. Then I wrapped the weighted bands around my wrists and ankles, tightening the velcro with a sharp pull. Gripping the rope, I began skipping lightly, letting my body warm up as the rope sliced through the morning air in steady swishes.
After a few minutes, I set the rope aside and shifted into push-ups. The added weight strained my arms and core, each rep burning deeper. But it felt good — necessary. I continued with plank holds, feeling my muscles tremble with controlled tension, then switched to slow mountain climbers to keep my heart rate up. Finally, I finished with sit-ups, the gravel pressing against my back as I exhaled on every rise. Up, down. Focused breathing. Steady rhythm.
This… this was a luxury I never had before.
Back then, my past life was just studying. Always studying. Because if I didn't keep my scholarship, I couldn't survive. An orphan with no one to rely on — every yen I spent was weighed against my tuition and rent. Every second was spent cramming just to stay afloat in that suffocating life.
Convenience store bento eaten alone in a dim apartment. Watching anime or YouTube videos with tired, dark-ringed eyes, just to keep myself awake between study sessions. Sleeping past midnight only to wake up before dawn for morning lectures. Body aching, mind numb, but forcing myself to endure because I had no choice.
I never exercised like this back then. How could I? Time was survival.
But now…
I had a second chance.
A warm family waiting back home in this world. A place to belong.
I exhaled deeply, sweat drip down my neck.
A small, genuine smile tugged at my lips.
Suddenly, my music cut out.
A ringtone blared into my ears.
I paused mid-stretch, glancing at my phone screen on the bench.
[Mom] flashed on the caller ID.
I let out a quiet laugh, breathless and warm.
"Speak of the devil…" I murmured softly, affection blooming in my chest as I swiped to answer. "Good morning, Mom."
"Morning, Ren." Her voice was warm, but carried that familiar edge of worry. "You're up early again. Jogging, right?"
"Yeah." I stretched lightly, phone wedged between my shoulder and ear. "Same as usual."
A soft sigh came from her side. "Always trying so hard… My son really is something special."
I paused for a second, feeling a flicker of warmth in my chest. She must still remember everything from junior high. The scandal. The pressure. The way I forced myself through it all.
"So… how was yesterday? Lunch, dinner – did you eat properly?"
"Lunch was just some sandwiches. One of the senpai made them since I was busy unpacking boxes and cleaning my room. Dinner… it's different here. Everyone eats together. The seniors take turns cooking."
"Together…?" There was a small pause. "So how is your dorm, anyway? Mom heard it's a bit… special."
I exhaled, shifting my grip on the phone. "Yeah… It's Sakurasou. The dorm for problem children and outliers."
"Oh?" I could hear her curiosity rising. "Tell me about the members."
I shifted the phone to my other ear as I sitting on the bench. "Well… there's Chihiro-sensei, the dorm manager. Feels more like… a lazy aunt than a teacher. Sorata-senpai… normal guy, seems reliable but always ends up getting dragged into messes. Ryuunosuke-senpai is… uh, quiet. Programmer type. Doesn't like people."
"Mhm…"
"Then Misaki-senpai… she's… how to say it, like a hyperactive kid. Full of energy. Jin-senpai… feels calm and mature, like he's always handling everyone's pace. And Nanami-senpai… hardworking, strict on herself. She's an aspiring voice actress."
"And…?"
I hesitated. "…Mashiro-senpai. She's… quiet. A famous painter, apparently. But… she can't really take care of herself."
Silence. Then—
"…Pffft—Hahaha!"
Her laugh was loud and clear. "What is this, a manga? Everyone sounds like a character. But well… my Ren is unique too."
I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Don't say it like that, Mom."
"Fufufu~ So it's a mixed gender dorm, huh…"
"Don't start."
She let out a dramatic sigh. "Tch. No fun. You're just too mature. Can't even tease you properly."
I exhaled sharply, a rare sarcasm slipping out. "Yeah, sorry for being born boring."
Her laughter rang out like a small bell. But when it faded, her voice turned soft. Serious. Motherly.
"…Each of these kids… they sound special in their own way, Ren."
"…Yeah."
"And that Mashiro girl… I don't know why, but… be kind to her, okay?"
A chill ran down my back for a second. The intuition of a mother… really was terrifying.
"I know," I said quietly. "I'll… try my best. They're… all unique. And… I want to respect that."
'Especially her. Because… in the end… no one ever truly understood her.'
For a while, neither of us spoke. Only the faint rustle of leaves and distant bird cries of the spring dawn filled the silence.
Then—
"I'm proud of you, Ren."
"…Thanks, Mom."
Mom then says softly, "Remember to help out too, okay? Don't just leave it to your senpai. Cooking, cleaning, looking after the place… you're good at those things."
I felt heat creeping up my neck. "…Stop it."
"I'm serious," my mother chuckled gently. "You've always helped me back home. You'd wash the rice, prep the ingredient, cleaning up home without even being asked… You were such a reliable little man." Her voice held that quiet pride that always embarrassed me.
"…Really, stop it, Mom."
"Fufu… But it's true." Then she sighed dramatically. "Unlike that disaster Kana… Honestly, I wonder if she gets it from your dad's side."
I couldn't help a small laugh at that. "She's not that bad."
"She tries so hard to beat you at cooking, remember? And ends up burning the omelette every time… Mou, if there's a man who wants her, I hope he's ready. She's so active and tomboyish, but her features are beautiful, you know? Like a proper Yamato Nadeshiko, if only she'd act like one."
I listened quietly, a faint smile curving my lips as my mother's voice filled my ear. Her gentle laments, her teasing, her warmth… it was nostalgic and grounding.
For fifteen minutes, We spoke about little things. Home situation. Kana's school life. About dad now. A simple, quiet mother-son bonding that wrapped around my heart like a blanket.
"Alright then," mother finally said, her voice brightening a little. "I need to prepare breakfast now. Make sure you give us news often, okay? Call me or your dad or Kana. If you're busy, just chat us. Kana will probably take the initiative to bother you anyway."
"Yeah… okay," I replied softly.
"And," she added with a teasing lilt, "if you find someone you like… or maybe a girlfriend, bring her home, alright?"
For a moment, I froze. Then a small, polite smile crossed my face. "…No."
My mother laughed, the sound light and affectionate through the phone. "Ah, that expression again. Fufu… okay okay. Take care, Ren."
The call ended. I lowered my phone slowly, staring at the darkened screen. A smile tugged at my lips even as I'm sighed.
"Honestly… Mom."
Pocketing my phone, I stood up from the park bench, stretched my shoulders, and began my exercises again before continuing my jog back towards Sakurasou, the early spring air crisp against my skin.
-------------------------
By the time I returned to Sakurasou, the sun had fully risen, casting a soft golden light that reflected off the dorm windows. I checked my phone.
7:05 AM.
I reached for the front door, planning to slip inside quietly, but before my fingers even touched the handle, it slid open with a gentle clack.
Standing there, blinking with sleepy half-lidded eyes, was Nanami-senpai. She wore a neat tracksuit, hair tied up in her usual ponytail, and a towel draped loosely around her neck.
For a second, her eyes remained hazy with sleep… until they widened in surprise.
"R-Ren-kun?"
I blinked, equally surprised, before quickly dipping my head.
"Ah, sorry, Nanami-senpai," I said softly. "I didn't mean to block the way. I'll head inside."
She stepped aside immediately, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles to wake herself up properly. "No, no, it's fine. I just… you startled me."
I stepped past her, feeling the cool breeze from outside brush against my sweaty skin. Just as I was about to slide the door closed, her voice stopped me.
"…Wait. Are you done exercising already?"
I turned back slightly. Her gaze was fixed on my face – the sweat dripping down my jaw, my slightly ragged breathing.
"Yes."
She hummed, a faint note of impressed curiosity mixing into her tone. "What time did you start?"
"Five o'clock, Nanami-senpai."
That finally woke her up fully. Her eyes widened again, eyebrows lifting as she stared at me like I'd just said something absurd.
"Five… in the morning…? That's… really early."
Her eyes blinked wide open, finally shaking off the remnants of sleep. She let out a small, tired laugh, her shoulders relaxing as if accepting the ridiculousness of what I'd just said.
"…Seriously, you're so disciplined it makes the rest of us look bad."
This was probably the first time Nanami-senpai saw me returning from my morning routine. After all, I was just the new member of Sakurasou.
I held her gaze for a moment before letting out a faint, polite smile.
"It's just my routine."
She stared at me for a second longer, then sigh slowly, clearly impressed. "…Hey, Ren-kun."
"Yes, Nanami-senpai?"
She straightened her posture, her ponytail swaying lightly behind her back. "Tomorrow… do you want to exercise together?"
I blinked, caught slightly off guard by her sudden invitation.
She quickly continued, her voice a little softer, earnest, and tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I mean… I can show you some hidden gems around here. There's this bakery with cheap but really good melon bread, a small shrine up the hill with a great view of the city, and… well, it's good to know the surroundings, right? Especially since… you're new here."
She said that last part almost in a mumble, her eyes flicking away for a second before returning to me with quiet determination. In that moment, I felt like I understood a part of her too – Nanami-senpai was the type to look out for others in her own way.
"…Are you sure, senpai?" I asked gently. "I wake up at five every day."
She froze for a moment, then puffed out her cheeks slightly in frustration before letting out a quiet sigh. "Five is… too early for me."
Her fingers curled slightly around the towel draped on her neck. Then, with a small nod, her expression firmed up.
"…How about six? I… I'll wake up earlier than usual. As your senpai… it's my task to show you around, after all."
Her voice faltered at the end, turning into a faint, pleading tone that made me almost smile again.
"…Understood, senpai," I said softly. "I'll wait for you tomorrow. At six."
Her shoulders relaxed visibly as she let out a relieved sigh, a small smile blooming on her lips.
"Good. It's a promise."
"Then… I'll get going," Aoyama-senpai said, adjusting her ponytail and stepping out onto the stone path.
"Yes, senpai. Have a good exercise," I replied softly, giving her a polite nod.
She blinked at me, then let out a small laugh. "You really are too formal sometimes, Ren-kun."
With that, she turned around and jogged lightly down the path, her back straight and steady despite the lingering sleepiness. I stood there for a moment longer, watching as her figure grew smaller and smaller.
Without a word, I turned back toward Sakurasou's entrance.
I slipped off my shoes, stepping onto the cool wooden floor of the genkan. The faint hum of the old refrigerator blended with the distant chirping of sparrows outside.
As I moved past the common room toward the staircase, I saw Sorata-senpai standing alone by the counter, sleeves rolled up as he cracked an egg into a small pan with practiced movements. His hair was still messy from sleep, but his expression was focused, as if breakfast was a mission that required absolute concentration.
Mashiro-senpai was nowhere to be seen.
I gave him a small polite nod as I passed, then quietly made my way up to the second floor.
Entering my room, I placed my duffel bag, and pull out my weighted bands, rope, water bottle and towel neatly on the shelf, arranging them to dry.
I glanced at my phone screen – 7:10 AM.
My gaze drifted to the window, where the sunlight filtered through pale curtains, illuminating the dust motes dancing lazily in the air.
Nanami… even back then, everyone in the fanbase always called her the true best girl. Honestly, I agree with them. If you just look at her character arc over three volumes, the growth, the effort, the pain—she was incredible.
But in Volume 9, when the love triangle finally reached its so-called conclusion… all that build-up and development just got thrown into the trash. Mashiro won by default. Nanami… she just disappeared from the story like her existence never mattered, only showing up again in the epilogue to wave goodbye.
I mean… who else could get rejected once and still find the courage to confess again, just because she genuinely loved him that much? That's not normal courage. That's the kind of strength people spend their whole lives trying to find… and yet, Sorata still chose Mashiro. Despite there being no proper relationship development. It was just… wasted potential.
If you ask myself… Nanami and Sorata would've been a far better couple. They balance each other out perfectly. Looking at yesterday's welcome party – when everyone else was too busy messing around, those two were basically the only functional adults in the room.
I opened my drawer, taking out fresh clothes for after my shower.
'Maybe, I can help. Even if just a little. It's not like I want to play cupid, but… if I can help her get the ending she deserves… then maybe it's will worth it.'