The doors of the train slid open with a soft hiss, and for a moment, I hesitated. I didn't want to get up. The familiar grogginess of early morning had settled into my bones, and I had forgotten how utterly mundane school mornings could be. However, this was the first day of high school, and despite my reluctance, I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement beneath the sleepiness.
With a resigned sigh, I pushed myself to my feet and stepped onto the platform. Ichika followed suit, and together we ventured out into the world beyond the train.
We get off the train and head to the outside world for the first time in years. ( about 30 minutes) I've noticed a vending machine nearby. I have cold water in my bag, but I'm a bit tired, so an energy drink will keep me going for the rest of the day.
"Ichika, I'm going to buy something from the vending machine," I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
Ichika nodded and walked with me to the vending machine. As we approached, I couldn't help but replay the scenario in my mind: me buying a drink, and her not buying anything. It felt oddly awkward to be the only one making a purchase.
"Ichika, do you want anything?" I offered, though I was hoping she'd say yes to avoid the awkwardness.
"No, that's alright. I'm fine," she replied.
She had declined, but the thought of purchasing alone still nagged at me. I couldn't let that happen.
"Are you sure? There are some really good drinks here. I'll buy you one," I insisted, feeling like a corporate spokesperson for vending machines.
"I don't need anything. There's just a lot of sugar in that," she said.
I was losing the battle, and at this rate, I'd never land that promotion! I inserted enough money for two energy drinks and pressed the button to select my preferred one. Two cans clunked down, and I handed one to Ichika.
"I don't drink energy drinks. I told you I didn't want to," she reiterated.
"Just try one. It'll give you energy for the rest of the day. I don't drink them often either, but sometimes they help," I reasoned.
"Okay, just because you spent money on it," she relented.
With a sense of accomplishment, I handed her the can. She opened it and took a cautious sip.
"How is it?" I inquired.
"It's…uh, gives me energy, I think," she replied, her assessment somewhat vague.
"Yes, but how's the taste?" I pressed.
"Weird," she said.
"Is it good weird or bad weird?"
"What does that even mean?" She took another sip.
"Never mind. You seem like you're enjoying it."
We continued walking and eventually found ourselves outside the train station. I had finished my drink, but Ichika still held hers.
"Still drinking?" I asked.
"Yes, I'm still drinking. I drink in small portions!" she defended herself.
I tossed my empty can into the nearby recycling bin, not out of any particular devotion to recycling but simply because it was convenient.
Ichika suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Huh? Why did you stop?"
"There isn't another recycling bin nearby, and I'm about to finish my drink," she explained.
"Can't you just throw it in a nearby trash?"
"No, I can't! It's important to recycle, and besides…I'll have bad feelings if I don't."
"Fine, but make it quick, or we'll be late," I urged.
After a minute or so, Ichika finished her drink and gently placed it in the recycling bin. We resumed walking at a brisk pace.
"Come on! We're going to be late!" I exclaimed as we approached the school gate.
"We have 5 minutes!" Ichika reminded me as we quickened our pace.
Three minutes later, we stood at the school gate, panting slightly from our hurried walk.
"We made it!" Ichika announced with relief.
"At least we can walk at a normal pace now," I remarked.
At the entrance stood a stern-looking guard, a common sight at school gates.
"Name and student ID, please," the guard requested, addressing Ichika first.
She confidently replied, "I'm Nakamura Ichika, ID 215."
The guard consulted his phone, verifying the student ID and name before granting her access. His demeanor softened as it became evident she was indeed a student.
Then, it was my turn. Panic gripped me, and I stammered, "I-I…"
My gaze remained fixed on the ground as I struggled to speak my name.
"I'm… Yamamoto Kenji…" I finally managed.
"ID?"
Oh, right, I forgot!
"197, sir.."
The guard checked his phone once more, his expression giving away nothing as he scrutinized my information.
"You may enter," he finally said.
"Thank you," I mumbled with immense relief and quickly passed through the gate.
As I entered the school grounds, Ichika waited for me. It was an awkward moment, one that prompted her to break the silence.
"Kenji?"
"Yes?" I replied hesitantly.
"Your last name is Yamamoto?" she inquired.
"Yeah," I confirmed.
I then realized that we had been using each other's first names all this time.
"Wait, Ichika, your last name is Nakamura," I pointed out. "We've been using each other's first names all along."
"Well, we were kids back then, so we just told each other our first names. I'm fine with that," she reassured me.
We continued walking towards the school doors, the atmosphere gradually shifting to one of calm anticipation for the new day ahead.
"Kenji, what does that sign say?" Ichika pointed to the sign above the door.
I squinted at the sign for a moment. "It reads, 'All first years must go to room 21-E for the opening ceremony at 8:30 AM.'"
Ichika's eyes widened, and she quickly checked her watch. "What time is it now?"
"8:27 AM," I replied with a hint of panic. "We have three minutes!"
Time suddenly seemed to accelerate as we raced through the corridors, searching for room 21-E. Thankfully, the school had placed a map near the entrance, guiding us to our destination. With a collective sigh of relief, we found the room just in time.
The door creaked open as we stepped inside, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. The opening ceremony had yet to begin, and we had managed to make it in the nick of time. Our hearts still raced from the mad dash through the school's hallways.
The room was buzzing with activity as fellow first-year students chatted nervously, forming small groups. Some were already seated, while others continued to trickle in. Teachers and staff members moved about, making last-minute preparations for the ceremony.
Ichika and I exchanged a glance, our shared experience of narrowly avoiding tardiness bonding us in that moment. We found a pair of empty seats near the back of the room, taking our places just as the event was about to commence.
The principal, a distinguished-looking man with graying hair, stepped up to the podium at the front of the room. The chatter among the students gradually faded as he began his welcoming speech. His words spoke of new beginnings, opportunities, and the importance of forging connections during our high school journey.
As I listened to the principal's speech, my mind drifted to the unexpected events of the morning. I had reconnected with Ichika after five years of separation, and together, we had embarked on this new chapter of our lives. It was a twist of fate that neither of us could have predicted.
Ichika, too, seemed lost in thought as she gazed at the principal with a mixture of anticipation and contemplation. Our chance reunion had ignited a sense of curiosity within me—a desire to explore the complexities of our renewed friendship and to understand the significance of our paths crossing once more.
The opening ceremony continued, and with it, a sense of optimism filled the room. High school was a fresh canvas, waiting for us to paint our stories upon it. As the principal's words echoed through the room, I couldn't help but wonder what adventures and challenges lay ahead, not only for me but also for Ichika.
As the principal explained the class assignments, a knot of worry tightened in my stomach. What if Ichika and I weren't in the same class? The mere thought of facing the daunting world of high school alone was enough to make my palms sweat.
The anxiety gnawed at me as Ichika and I exchanged concerned glances. I knew that she was the first person I felt comfortable around in years, and the idea of being separated from her on our first day of high school was distressing.
My voice trembled as I whispered to Ichika, "Ichika, what if we aren't in the same class?"
She looked equally apprehensive. "Oh, I didn't think about that. I-" Her words were abruptly cut off by the principal's commanding tone as he continued the announcements.
Let me announce the class assignments for class D."
I watched as the names of unfamiliar students were assigned to class D, and I couldn't help but ponder their lives and stories. It was strange to think that each of them had their own unique experiences, dreams, and aspirations that I knew nothing about.
As the list went on, my heart sank when I couldn't find my name or Ichika's among the class D assignments. Time seemed to slow as I waited for the class C assignments, hoping for a better outcome. When the class C assignments were revealed, I finally spotted my name under class C, while Ichika's name was listed after that in class B.
"Ichika, we're not in the same class!" I exclaimed, panic welling up within me.
She looked equally distressed. "Oh no! We have to do something about this!"
"Can we talk to the teachers or someone about changing it?" I asked, my mind racing for solutions.
"I'll try speaking with the secretary," Ichika replied, her determination shining through.
"There will be no more classes for the day, you may return home, or explore the school. The school will close in two hours," the principal concluded.
He went on talking about how great this school is, and with that, the opening ceremony came to an end, and we joined the crowd of students as we exited the room. Outside, two third-year students were distributing school handbooks. I grabbed two and handed one to Ichika.
"Thank you, Kenji!" she said with a grateful smile.
"No problem," I replied, returning her smile.
Together, we walked away from the bustling crowd and found a quiet spot in the halls to sit and talk.