The alarm buzzed softly beside my bed, and my eyes opened almost immediately. I didn't need to hit snooze anymore; waking up early had become second nature. The room was still dim, curtains half-drawn, the air cool against my skin. I sat up, stretched, and let out a quiet yawn.
Another day of school. Nothing special, but somehow comforting in its sameness.
I got up and headed straight to the bathroom. The floor was cold, the mirror fogged slightly from yesterday's shower. I turned on the tap and splashed water on my face, blinking away the last traces of sleep.
The shower was quick — I'd gotten used to timing it perfectly so I didn't make my mom worry about the water bill. Warm water, a moment of quiet, and thoughts that drifted lazily through my head. I wasn't thinking about exams or friends, just… the day ahead, plain and simple.
Once dressed, I checked myself in the mirror. My hair always refused to stay flat, no matter how much I brushed it, so I gave up halfway. The uniform fit well enough — white shirt, neat tie, dark blazer. Nothing fancy, just clean.
"Ren! Breakfast's ready!" Mom's voice came from downstairs, warm and lively.
"Coming!" I answered, slinging my bag over one shoulder.
The smell of miso soup and grilled fish filled the hallway before I even reached the kitchen. Morning light poured through the window, catching the steam rising from the table. My two little brothers were already there, squabbling over something small — probably who got the bigger slice of egg roll.
"Morning," I said, pulling out a chair.
"Morning, Ren!" they chimed together, both wearing mischievous grins.
Mom smiled as she set another bowl down. "You're early today."
"I've been getting up on time lately," I said, settling in.
"That's good. Maybe your brothers will follow your example."
Both of them groaned dramatically. "We are early!"
Mom gave them that patient look that somehow worked better than yelling. I couldn't help but chuckle.
Breakfast went as usual — laughter, small arguments, and the clinking of chopsticks. My youngest brother, Kaito, complained about a classmate who kept stealing his erasers, while Riku bragged about how fast he could solve his math homework. I mostly listened, smiling.
"You boys behave, okay?" Mom said, turning toward me. "And don't forget your lunch."
She handed me a bento box wrapped neatly in a blue cloth. "Thanks," I said.
When I stood to leave, both my brothers waved at me from the table. "Have fun at school, Ren!"
"Yeah, yeah," I said, grinning. "Don't burn the house down while I'm gone."
Outside, the air was cool and fresh, carrying that faint smell of rain from the night before. The sky was clear, though — pale blue with just a few soft clouds drifting by. I started walking, the strap of my bag resting comfortably on my shoulder.
Our neighborhood was quiet, peaceful in the mornings. Old houses lined the street, each with its own little garden or gate. The road shimmered faintly where puddles still lingered, reflecting sunlight like tiny mirrors.
Mrs. Tanaka, the neighbor from two doors down, was already outside watering her plants.
"Good morning, Ren!" she called, smiling wide.
"Morning, Mrs. Tanaka," I replied with a small bow. "You're up early."
She chuckled. "Ah, these flowers don't water themselves. Have a good day at school!"
"I will," I said, waving before continuing on.
Further down, a group of sparrows darted across the street, chirping noisily as they settled on a power line. The sound of their singing mixed with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. A delivery truck rolled by slowly, its driver giving a polite nod as he passed.
There was something about mornings like this that made everything seem... balanced. Not exciting, not dull. Just right.
I passed the small bakery at the corner — the shutters half-open, the smell of freshly baked bread drifting out. The owner caught sight of me and waved. "Morning, Ren! Want to grab something before class?"
"Not today, thanks!" I called back with a smile. "Maybe tomorrow."
He nodded, already turning to greet another customer.
As I walked, I let my thoughts wander — nothing deep, just the kind that float in and out with the rhythm of footsteps. Sometimes I wondered if everyone else felt the same way about mornings: calm, predictable, like the world was giving you a small chance to breathe before everything started moving too fast again.
When the school came into view, I adjusted my blazer and straightened my tie. Students were already gathering near the gate — laughing, talking, some running because they were late. I didn't see anyone I knew yet, but that was fine.
I liked this part — the quiet few minutes before I had to start being social.
The sun had climbed higher now, its light washing over the courtyard, the walls of the building glowing faintly gold. I slowed my steps, taking in the familiar sight — the trees lining the path, the sound of chatter from the classrooms, the flag gently swaying in the breeze.
It wasn't anything extraordinary. But standing there, I couldn't help but smile.
Another day had begun.