"Alright, everyone, I'll be starting the lesson shortly. But before we begin," said Hayami-sensei, pausing with a warm smile, "the student council president would like to have a word with all of you."
"Good morning, everyone." Hitomi's polished shoes made a soft tap against the floor as she stepped forward. She straightened her posture, her gaze sweeping across the classroom, calm and precise.
"I am here today not only to speak about the welfare of the students of Toshigawa Academy…" She paused briefly, letting the words settle, her fingers brushing the edge of the clipboard she held. "…but also to inform you that the positions of vice president, and secretary have been vacated due to graduation."
A soft gasp ran through the classroom, followed by low whispers. The faint scrape of shoes on the floor punctuated the murmurs.
"My goal today is to inspect the new first-year students…" Hitomi's voice was calm but firm, carrying clearly over the rustle of papers and shifting chairs. A small, composed smile curved her lips, lending warmth to her words. She shifted the clipboard slightly, the metal clip catching the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.
"…and assess who may qualify to join the student council. If you're interested, please come forward and write your name here."
"A chance to become a student council member? I'll definitely sign up!" a boy said eagerly, his chair scraping back with a loud screech as he half-stumbled out of it.
Naomi leaned over toward Sachiko, the edge of her long sleeve brushing Sachiko's arm. "Sachiko, why don't you sign up too? You've got the brains and the dedication. Sachi? Earth to Sachiko."
Sachiko blinked, startled. The sudden focus on her made her skin prickle. "Oh—sorry. I zoned out. What were you saying?"
Naomi narrowed her eyes with a playful smirk. "Are you alright? You've been spacing out ever since we started at this school. That only happens when you're crushing on someone."
"What? No, I don't! Who would I even have a crush on?" Sachiko asked quickly, her voice cracking slightly as warmth crept up her neck.
Naomi leaned in close, her breath tickling Sachiko's ear. "You've been staring at Kawaguchi since yesterday. Be honest. He's cute, smart, and let's not forget his talent for basketball. Even I felt my heart flutter when he nailed that three-pointer."
Sachiko's face flushed a deep red, ears burning. "Cut it out, Naomi! It's not like that."
"You're blushing!" Naomi squealed, hugging her tightly. Sachiko could feel the press of Naomi's arms and the faint scent of her shampoo—something floral. "You're so cute when you get flustered."
"Naomi! Please stop!" Sachiko squeaked, wriggling in her grip, her voice muffled by Naomi's shoulder.
"I'm just messing with you," Naomi said, laughing as she let go. "The look on your face was priceless."
"So… are you going to sign up?" she added, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Sachiko hesitated. Her fingers tugged lightly at the hem of her uniform skirt. Her gaze flicked toward the front of the class. Kawaguchi sat there, silent, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The sunlight cast soft shadows over his sharp features. He hadn't even glanced back once during the conversation.
She stood up abruptly, her chair wobbling slightly. "I mean, I'm not in any club or sports like you, so… why not?"
As Sachiko approached the front of the class, the clipboard's metal clip clinked as Yoshida adjusted her grip.
"Your name is Takahashi Sachiko, right? The girl who ranked second in the entrance exam?"
"Yes, I am." Sachiko's voice came out steadier than she felt. Her palms were a little damp, and she curled her fingers against the edge of her pleated skirt to hide it.
"I would like to speak with you after school." Hitomi's smile softened slightly, just enough to ease the tension. "Please meet me in the student council room."
Sachiko nodded quietly, her chest tightening. Her heart thudded rapidly, echoing in her ears. She pressed her fingers lightly against her skirt, trying to steady herself.
"Thank you all for your time," Yoshida added, her voice calm and even. "Goodbye."
Once she left, Hayami-sensei clapped her hands briskly. "Okay, let's get back to the lesson."
Before the chalk even touched the board, the school bell rang, sharp and piercing. Its echo bounced off the classroom walls, cutting through the quiet. Instantly, the room erupted into motion—chairs scraping against the floor, bags unzipping, and the crinkle of snack wrappers filling the air.
On the rooftop, the breeze drifted lightly across the open space, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass from the school grounds below and the faint warmth of the cafeteria bread still lingering in the air.
"The breeze up here is… nice," Tetsuo murmured, closing his eyes. His dark hair lifted slightly in the wind, brushing against his forehead. He inhaled slowly, letting the quiet hum of distant traffic and the occasional bird call settle around him.
It had been a year since I last played basketball. Yet somehow, I was still able to sink three-pointers.
The ball felt familiar in my hands, the bounce on the court almost comforting.
It had been a while since I'd felt this much… enjoyment while playing.
"Back then… it wasn't fun," he whispered, his voice barely carrying over the wind. "It was all I had. The only thing that kept me sane… other than my sister."
A flicker of memory pierced his thoughts, sharp and sudden:
"Well done, assassin number nine. You have potential. I look forward to our dealings with you in the future."
Tetsuo's eyes snapped open. His chest tightened, breath catching in his throat. A phantom weight pressed against his hands—warm, slick, metallic. Blood. His fingers twitched, as if trying to shake off something that wasn't there.
That's right… I don't deserve this life. Not after what I've done.
A voice behind him cut through the quiet, clear and deliberate.
"I see someone's found my rooftop spot."
Tetsuo spun around, his shoe scuffing against the concrete. A girl stood there, the metal door groaning shut behind her. Her schoolbag swayed gently from her shoulder as she leaned against the frame, watching him with raised brows.
"Huh? What do you mean?" he asked, voice flat.
"Why are you so surprised? The roof belongs to everyone, doesn't it?" she replied, brushing past him to sit near the ledge. Her skirt fluttered in the wind as she sat, legs swinging slightly.
"I guess you're right," he muttered. "I came up here because it was quiet. I'll go."
"Wait. You're a first-year, right? Tetsuo Kawaguchi?" Her voice was calm, measured, but carried easily in the open air.
"…Yeah." He kept his eyes on the concrete floor, shoulders tense.
"I was really impressed with how you played earlier." She shifted slightly, letting her bag settle on her shoulder. "You've got serious skill—especially with those three-pointers."
Tetsuo exhaled sharply, the wind brushing past his hair. "Just get to the point."
The girl chuckled softly, a warm sound that blended with the faint rustle of the rooftop breeze. "I'm humbly asking you to join the basketball team. We need someone like you to make it to the Inter-High. It's been the captain's dream since his first year."
"Sorry," he said flatly, his fingers tightening around the railing. "I have responsibilities at home."
"Oh. I see…" Her tone faltered for a moment, then brightened as she straightened. "How rude of me—I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Nanaho Fukazawa. Second-year. Coach and manager of the basketball team."
She pulled out her phone, the smooth surface cool in her hands, decorated with small stickers, and held it toward him. "Here. Let's exchange numbers. Just in case you change your mind."
Tetsuo stared at the screen for a moment, the sunlight glinting off the edges. He pulled out his own phone, its warmth pressing against his palm, and entered his info without looking at her.
"Thanks! See you later, Kawaguchi!" she said, her sunny smile bright against the concrete and wind as she trotted off.
He let out a long sigh once she was gone. The rooftop quiet returned. Well… that was awkward.
The bell rang again, sharp and insistent, its sound echoing through the stairwell as Tetsuo made his way down. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, each heel clicking against the concrete.
Before he could step off the roof, a figure stepped into his path.
"Hello. Your name is Tetsuo Kawaguchi, right? Can I speak with you for a moment?" The boy's tone was calm, but his posture radiated quiet authority.
Tetsuo raised an eyebrow, one hand gripping the stair rail. "Who's asking?"
"I'm Yukio Hamaguchi," the boy said, his gaze steady. "Captain of the basketball team."
Tetsuo frowned slightly, his expression unreadable. "If this is about me joining the team, I already told your manager I can't. I have responsibilities at home."
He stepped past Yukio, the faint scent of sun-warmed concrete and rust brushing against his senses.
"Wait—just one question," Yukio said, his tone steady but probing.
Tetsuo paused, his face calm and impassive. "What is it?"
"Which junior high school did you play for?"
His eyes narrowed fractionally, the air between them tense but controlled. "I didn't."
He moved past without another word.
Yukio watched him leave, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. No records… no school ties… he's an unknown. That's dangerous in the right way. If I can get him on the team, he'll catch any opponent off guard.
Back in the classroom, the afternoon sun filtered through the windows, casting warm light across the desks.
"Good afternoon, class," came a cheerful voice as students filtered in. A man in his early thirties entered, adjusting a slightly crooked tie. "My name is Shunpei Hamada, and I'll be teaching you mathematics this year."
He grinned. "Since it's only the second day—and I consider myself a generous person—I won't be teaching anything today."
The class erupted in cheers. A few students pumped their fists; others slumped in relief.
"Let's go! Thanks, teach!" someone shouted.
"But," Hamada-sensei added, raising a finger, "I would like to get to know you better. Since you introduced yourselves yesterday, let's do a quick roll call. Just stand and say your name so I can match it with your face."
He pointed to the far side of the room.
"My name is Makoto Kurai."
"Naomi Nakamura."
"Shi… Shino Katsuragi."
"The name's Noboru Takemoto."
"Kiyoe Ikegami."
"Ri… Rie Morioka."
"Ayumi Nishioka. I hope we can have a spectacular semester."
"Sachiko Takahashi." Her voice was clear, but her hands were tight in her lap.
Tetsuo glanced up briefly as Sachiko spoke, his eyes unreadable.
"Tetsuo Kawaguchi."
"Asato Kajiwara."
"Naohiro Aoki."
"Miyu Sugiyama."
"Great. That's everyone," said Hamada-sensei, jotting notes on a clipboard. "Now, any suggestions for how we should spend this free session?"
Sachiko raised her hand. "We could discuss how you plan to teach the syllabus and how to organize it efficiently."
"Ah, a structured mind. I like that," said Hamada-sensei. "Shall we begin?"
"Yes, sensei!" the students chorused, their voices blending in harmony as the afternoon sun warmed the classroom windows.