As Ayanokouji entered the school, he was immediately met with a scene reminiscent of an airport's security checkpoint, albeit far more sophisticated. The hall was lined with sleek, black partition barriers that directed students toward a series of what he assumed to be verification stations.
In front of him, students were placing their fingers on gleaming surfaces of the stations. He noticed that each station had an LED screen and a camera that tracked the student's face simultaneously as they scanned their fingerprint. Soft, ambient beeps sounded in unison, indicating successful verifications.
Once it was his turn, Ayanokouji was guided by a woman in a crisply tailored uniform.
"Please place your thumb here," she instructed.
Following her directions, Ayanokouji pressed his thumb onto the pad. The machine whirred for a moment, and then a pleasant chime sounded. The screen displayed his name, class details, and a photograph from his student profile.
"Student Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, S01T004651," the uniformed woman announced, reading from the display. "Verification complete."
A few seconds later, the woman handed Ayanokouji a sleek, white-cased smartphone. "This will be your school-issued smartphone, equipped with everything necessary for your time here at Advanced Nurturing High School," she explained, her tone professional yet welcoming.
Ayanokouji assessed the device, his fingers gliding over the cool, matte finish. As he flipped it over, the school's emblem, elegantly embossed at the back, caught his eye. Out of curiosity, he applied gentle pressure between his thumb and forefinger, testing its sturdiness. It felt solid, definitely more durable than his last phone.
"Your phone comes preloaded with the ANHS Student App, where your time table, GPS for homeroom location, and other functions could be accessed. There is also the ANHS Maps app to serve as a general navigation guide, as well as other essential applications. We encourage you to familiarize yourself with the phone's various functions," she continued, her smile broadening slightly to ease the formality of the induction.
"Thank you," he replied, meeting the woman's gaze with a short nod.
And with the school's map already loaded on his smartphone's display, Ayanokouji set off in the direction of his homeroom.
---
As he continued his trek towards his homeroom, a nagging thought tugged at Ayanokouji's mind: how should he present himself to his classmates?
The first idea that came to him was the most straightforward— just introduce himself. He played out the scene in his mind, strolling confidently into the room, offering a dazzling smile, and saying, "Hey, I'm Ayanokouji! Let's be friends!"
But as he visualized it, he immediately felt a pang of second-hand embarrassment.
"I should punch myself for thinking of that," he chided himself.
Then, a subtler thought emerged— observe and approach someone approachable. But what did "approachable" even mean? Were there telltale signs, specific facial cues, or just a gut feeling?
And if he did that, what if they thought he was intruding?
"Maybe I should just wait," he thought. "Let someone else take the initiative."
But that approach had its pitfalls too. What if everyone was waiting for someone else to take the first step? He'd then become that guy who never spoke to anyone on the first day.
Ayanokouji let out a sigh. He recognized his line of thinking was getting ridiculous, but he also had never been in a formal school environment before. The boy was worried that he might be isolated for his entire high school life if he won't do anything.
"Technically, I'd live a peaceful life that way... but I'd like to have a few friends too," Ayanokouji thought to himself.
Absorbed in his inner musings, Ayanokouji almost overlooked it — the slightly ajar door, adorned with a sign reading "Class 1-D."
"Here we go," he muttered before taking a deep breath and entering the room.
---
Ayanokouji paused momentarily upon entering the classroom. The room was washed in the soft morning light, giving the entire space a warm, golden hue.
Rows of desks, each one meticulously arranged in a line, awaited their respective occupants. Each desk sported a nameplate— a detail he hadn't expected but appreciated for its function. That saved him time in deciding where to sit.
Taking a moment to scan the rows, Ayanokouji's gaze finally landed on the nameplate bearing his name. It was situated at the back of the room, right by the window where the gentle rustle of the trees outside was audible.
"A good place to be sitting at," he mused. "I could probably drift to sleep and the teacher wouldn't notice."
As he wove his way between the desks, Ayanokouji took a silent headcount of his soon-to-be classmates. Approximately 18 students were already in the classroom, almost half of the allocated 40 seats for their homeroom.
While most of them were seated on their desks, as expected since it was the first day of class, there were already some people engaged in conversation.
"Ah... those guys probably arrived early and immediately got along," Ayanokouji mused.
That said, he neither envied them nor felt the need to join in immediately. It wasn't like he wanted to be friends with everyone, and aside from that, the boy thought he should observe his classmates first before trying to do anything.
Reaching his assigned desk, he paused to appreciate the view outside. The window gave a serene view of the school's verdant grounds, a soothing contrast to the contained bustle within the room. After placing his bag down, he let his eyes wander.
Off to the side, a group of girls were talking animatedly. At the front, a pair of boys were sharing jokes, if their laughter and high-fives were any indicator. And two columns ahead of his desk, he saw a rather rotund bespectacled boy hunching over.
Perhaps it was Ayanokouji's imagination at work, but he thought the boy looked lonely.
He contemplated striking up a conversation but decided against it. The bespectacled boy might find it bothersome if he just went up to him and started talking.
"But when is the right time to talk to people, though?" He wondered.
No answer came.
With that, Ayanokouji decided to finally settle into his desk, letting out a sigh before leaning his back against his chair.
The minutes felt like hours to Ayanokouji as he took in the evolving dynamics of the room. It was fascinating, really. Even on the first day, certain groups seemed to be forming, friendships made through shared jokes, interests, or maybe just because they were seat neighbors.
And so, his thoughts wandered once more, this time dissecting the anatomy of 'friendship.'
How do people just... talk? Without a manual or guidelines at that?
Is it all about timing? Maybe sharing a meal, or walking back from the restroom together after a random encounter could spark something resembling friendship?
Human interactions were something he understood in theory, but not in application. Ideally, they should be organic, right?
But what was an organic conversation anyway? Don't people always approach each other for a reason? If so, then it wasn't really organic, was it?
Just as he was about to go down further in the rabbit hole of his thoughts, he noticed that the bespectacled boy was no longer in his seat. In fact, he was now engaged in a conversation with another student by the far-left corner of the classroom.
A fleeting shadow of envy—or was it a twinge of missed opportunity?—flickered through Ayanokouji.
"But I'm happy for you, Glasses-kun," he congratulated him mentally. "Looks like you made your first friend."
Still, he couldn't help but let out a deep sigh. He had observed, but not acted, and in doing so, missed out on the chance to make his first friend.
"That's quite a heavy sigh, considering the school year has only begun."
Turning to the direction of the voice, Ayanokouji saw someone sitting down beside him. It was the beautiful, dark-haired girl from earlier.
"So we're also in the same class, huh?" Ayanokouji mumbled.
Not only did they board the same bus, but they were also sorted in the same class and seated next to each other.
"There are four classes for our year. It shouldn't be that surprising," the girl remarked as she placed her bag on her desk.
Ayanokouji nodded. The girl was right. Considering the four-class set-up, there was a 25% chance they'd be classmates— a rather high probability.
"It's not that I'm surprised," Ayanokouji clarified, "just an amusing coincidence."
"From your voice, I don't think you're actually amused..."
Sharp and blunt, he mused. Somehow, the girl's attitude did not surprise him one bit. If anything, he almost expected that kind of response from her.
"Weird," he remarked internally.
That said, he had learned something from his missed opportunity with the bespectacled boy, and with that—
"Ayanokouji Kiyotaka," he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you."
"You just went ahead and introduced yourself?" she asked, seemingly baffled by his self-introduction.
Ayanokouji shrugged, "You paused because you didn't know my name, right? Now you do."
The girl stared at Ayanokouji for a few moments, caught off-guard by the reply.
"It wasn't your name I was pondering over. It was whether or not it would be worth my time to engage in conversation with you," she replied.
"Ah... I guess that's reasonable," he murmured.
The thought of retorting with, "Glad to know I'm worth your time," crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. She seemed to be the type to not take jokes like that well.
After a momentary silence, she merely stated, "Horikita Suzune." No handshake, no welcoming gesture, just the plain delivery of her name.
"I wasn't planning to introduce myself," she continued, her ruby eyes evaluating him, "but I suppose it's inevitable now."
Ayanokouji leaned back, resting against his chair. "Isn't it normal to do so on the first day?"
She didn't respond, simply pulling out a book from her bag and laying it on the desk with a soft thump.
Ayanokouji noted the title. It was 'Crime and Punishment,' a dense novel rife with moral quandaries—not exactly light reading material. He considered this choice for casual reading to be interesting, but kept his thoughts to himself.
After all, Horikita had all but ended their conversation.
Or so it seemed.
Without glancing up from her book, Horikita's voice cut through the air, "What's normal varies from person to person. To me, trivial conversations are time wasted."
Before Ayanokouji could respond, his attention was pulled toward the classroom entrance. Nudging toward the door, he hinted, "I think he'd have a different take on that."
Right on cue, a bold voice chimed, "This seems like a rather well-equipped classroom. It would appear to live up to people's expectations, hmm?"
Horikita lifted her eyes to find the source. It was the blonde-haired boy from their bus ride—the one who'd been in that heated exchange with the office woman. The way he carried himself, with boisterous laughter and sweeping gestures, spoke volumes about his personality.
Horikita muttered, more to herself than anyone else, "... This feels like an unpleasant omen."
Unaware, or perhaps uncaring, of the eyes he attracted, the boy swaggered to a desk labeled "Kouenji." He casually propped his feet up and upon taking a nail file from his bag, began grooming himself, a light hum accompanying his actions.
"He acts as though he's the only one here," Ayanokouji observed.
Pulling his gaze from Kouenji, Ayanokouji's eyes settled on Horikita. She was absorbed, eyes swiftly scanning the pages of her book.
He had initially pondered why she chose such a dense novel for casual reading, but upon observing her pace, he realized she'd likely read it before.
"Well, it is good enough for a re-read," he conceded, having read the book himself.
Deciding to let Horikita be for the moment, Ayanokouji once again surveyed their homeroom. By now, the homeroom had filled, save for a trio of empty desks.
Among the growing clusters of students, two individuals stood out, seemingly anchoring their respective groups.
First was the good-looking boy with brown-hair a shade or two lighter than Ayanokouji's own. Seated in front, he seemed to be drawing people to him with minimal effort. There were about five girls gathered around him, and despite the traffic, Ayanokouji observed that all of them were part of the conversation.
And second, was the same beige-haired girl that helped out the old lady earlier in the bus. Oozing with welcoming, friendly energy, she didn't have any trouble making new friends.
Although there were also other people in the class that had good social aptitude, Ayanokouji was certain that it would be these two individuals who would likely be the pillars of their class.
"Maybe I should try to approach them when the chance arrives. They seem nice enough," Ayanokouji mused.
With his survey concluded, he sighed softly. He hadn't managed to make any friends before homeroom started. But he took solace in the fact that he hadn't made any enemies either.
However, that also meant he remained in some sort of social limbo.
---
At exactly 8:30 AM, the first bell rang, marking the start of the homeroom period. Almost immediately, the classroom door slid open, drawing all eyes to the figure standing in its frame.
Entering the room was a woman with a presence that commanded attention. She had long brown hair that flowed gracefully down her back, tied into a neat ponytail. Her piercing brown eyes, the kind that seemed to see right through one's soul, scanned the room. Her physique was alluring, so much so that not even her serious, no-nonsense expression could reduce her appeal.
In fact, that might even add to her elegant, mature charm.
"Take your seats," her voice, deep and resonant, echoed throughout the room.
The class immediately quieted down, and the students who weren't in their seats began settling themselves back to where they were supposed to be.
"Good morning," she began, scanning the room with an appraising look, "My name is Chabashira Sae, and I will be your homeroom teacher for your entire stay in ANHS. I trust we'll get to know each other well in the coming years."
Noting perhaps a curious look from one of her students she continued, "In this school, we do not change classrooms for each grade. Now that you're well aware of that, I'm hoping you would be able to get along with each other. That said, I will also be your teacher in Japanese History."
Her keen eyes swept the room, noting some students zoning out or whispering among themselves. But instead of admonishing them, she opened a compartment under her table and took out a few stacks of written materials, and a small, rectangular box.
"You will be attending the entrance ceremony an hour from now at the school's gymnasium. I assume all of you had attended the tour last month. If by chance, you forgot the way to the gymnasium," she said with a slight edge in her voice, "I highly recommend you to stick by your classmates who knew the way there."
"But before that, I will be handling these to you," Chabashira paused as she lifted two distinct materials for everyone to see, one of it had a blue cover titled "Student Handbook," while the other was a thinner volume, entitled "ANHS Admissions Guide."
"These handouts outline school protocols, special rules, and general guidance on what's expected of you. Some might recall receiving these upon your acceptance, so consider this a reminder of their importance."
Chabashira then divided the handouts equally among the eight rows of five before distributing them to her students.
The handbook Chabashira distributed showcased how ANHS was different to any other high school in Japan. While there are several boarding schools in the country, ANHS took it a step further as it prohibited contact with anyone outside of the school, as well as exiting the school grounds without permission.
However, the school's premises more than made up for its secluded nature with the many facilities students could indulge themselves in. From karaoke boxes to cafes, boutiques, and even a mall, it was as if the school was its own thriving micro-city.
The uniqueness of ANHS did not end there, as it also boasted another feature: The S-System. But unlike the other features and amenities, there was an air of mystery pertaining to its nature.
With the handouts fully distributed, Chabashira cleared her throat, commanding the room's attention once more. "Now, I will be providing each of you with your Student ID Card," she announced.
From the neatly arranged rectangular box, Chabashira pulled out a sample student ID card, holding it up for everyone to see.
The card, slightly larger than a conventional credit card, had a modern matte finish. On its surface was the ANHS logo at the top left, a photo of the student at the right, and below it, the student's name in bold letters. At the bottom, in place of the usual card numbers, was the student's unique ID number, printed clearly for easy reference.
"This," Chabashira began, "is your lifeline within ANHS. It acts as both your identification and your access pass to the school's many facilities. Moreover, it functions like a credit card. Anything on campus, from amenities to commodities, can be accessed or bought using points through this card."
"Your student cards can be used simply by swiping them through the machine scanner present in many facilities in the campus. The method is simple, so you shouldn't get confused," she explained.
Chabashira then proceeded to distribute the cards, ensuring each student received the one with their own name and photo.
Ayanokouji, momentarily distracted by the neat design of his ID, refocused his attention on Chabashira's words. The broad definition of 'anything' that she had emphasized earlier was still ringing in his ears.
"That sounded way too intentional... but I might be overthinking it," the boy thought. However, it wasn't unwarranted. Considering how Chabashira carried herself, it was likely that the emphasis was intended.
With all the Student ID Cards distributed, Chabashira retrieved a small, sleek device from her desk – a model of the school-issued phone that each student had received upon going through identity verification.
"Your Student ID Card is connected to your issued phones as well," Chabashira stated, her voice steady and clear. "I believe you had been told about the ANHS Student App upon receiving your phone. While certain features like your timetable and Homeroom GPS could be accessed, the same does not extend to the ID Card Portal. For security purposes, the students themselves will be manually linking their Student ID Card to the ANHS Student App."
She projected her phone's screen onto the smart board, demonstrating the application's interface.
"You were probably wondering earlier what the empty black option on the menu was," she pointed out, to which she received a cluster of nods.
"That is what it shows on the ANHS Student App, if the Student ID Card hadn't been verified yet. You'll be able to access it by tapping the black button twice."
As Chabashira did so, the screen now showed a login interface. "To login, enter your Student ID number as your username, and 2015 as your default password. I strongly advise you to change this password at your earliest convenience."
She took a moment to fiddle with the phone, and the projection updated accordingly, where a lone rectangular box aptly named "Connect Card" appeared. "The next step should be clear. Tap the "Connect Card" option in the menu and type out the unique code found at the back of your card."
Having done so herself, the interface now showcased a series of functions. "Once synched, you gain full access to real-time point balances, transaction histories, and even the option to manage point transfers," she stated.
Chabashira tapped on the "Transaction History" option from the menu, and the screen generated a series of purchases from the month of March. "Here, you can see that every swipe of your card at our facilities or stores is recorded and instantly reflected in this app."
"Moving on, there is also a "Balance Inquiry" option from the menu, which does exactly as the name implies. For everyone's information, points are automatically deposited into your account on the first day of every month."
At this point, several students exchanged glances, whispers broke out in the classroom.
"How many points did you get?" a blonde-haired girl asked a tomboyish, brown-haired girl, who immediately checked her balance.
A few seconds later, she gasped softly, her eyes widening.
"You should have received 100,000 points already. Keep in mind that one point is worth one yen. No further explanation should be necessary."
The entire room went silent for a beat as the magnitude of Chabashira's words sank in.
Then, a wave of cheers swept through most of the class.
But Ayanokouji remained silent, his eyes focused on the digital numbers on his screen.
---
Author's Notes:
Before I explain things, I'd like to thank everyone who had read and voted on the first chapter of the story. I was honestly stoked seeing a great reads-to-votes ratio, so (if it's not too much to ask) feed me more! :pp
The additions (re: providing the students with phones & the school app) aren't exactly original. They're present in the source, but I really think it would be better had they actually been discussed by the proper authorities, and not told through Kiyo's monologues.
Sure, it could be a bit verbose, but I like details.
As for Kiyo's interaction with Horikita, it went smoother than it did in canon because of shifts in his reaction that impacted her impression of him.
Hori saying: "From your voice, I don't think you're actually amused..." was something I thought that fit had she not been annoyed by Kiyo's 'nature,' so that led to the slight divergence in dialogue.
And lastly, some 'Square One' elements are starting to shape up. I have a vision on how I'll go around with the reveal, but I'll keep that to myself for now.
See you in the next chapter~