All your life, you and Tsumiki have worn the same uniform.
When you were small, you wore a dark blue blazer over a button top with a skirt and stockings that stopped just above your knees.
Then in middle school, you wore a tan blazer over a button top with a tie and the same bottom.
And now, you stared at her, and she stared at you, but neither of you viewed the same meaningless sewn together fabrics, with the same colours ties and same length pants.
Your uniform was completely navy blue, asymmetrical with a pin of the school's logo near your left shoulder. Stockings with an end that disappeared under your skirt.
And Tsumiki wore a dark red, with a button top under her blazer, and a black skirt that stopped at her knees.
"It looks hot for the summer," she said with a trying grin.
"We get summer uniforms." You looked her up and down, from the high ponytail she gathered her hair in, to the black buckled shoes on her feet.
She took your hand, saying, "Let's walk to the bus stop," with enough enunciation for you to read her lips.
You nodded and followed her to a lonely bench near the end of town, where Nanako and Mimiko were already waiting... wearing two different uniforms.
The four of you looked at each other, signing a mutual agreement to not talk about school.
You had your backpack on your back, your eyes fixated on the end of the road where the bus would come.
Nanako scrolled through photos on her phone, hiding her face behind it.
Mimiko began unravelling a knitted stuffed animal, which had uneven eyes and different lengths for its legs.
And Tsumiki hugged her bag, which sat on her lap, wrinkling her skirt.
The first bus came and you stood up, stepping through the doors once they opened... without Tsumiki.
You sat down and stared out the window, seeing your three friends standing and waving to you like they'd never see you again. You smiled and waved back, seeing Tsumiki sign, "See you under the second tree to the right of the first tea shop!"
•••
You walked off the bus without even trying to get out a "thank you" to the bus driver and rushed towards the school, hoping no one would bother to try saying hi to you or trying to even speak to you.
There was a folded paper in your pocket that read what class you needed to go to, and you prayed that the school was situated so it was easy to find and you wouldn't have to ask someone.
A map, you hoped, to guide you rather than someone who wore headphones and had their hands jammed in their pocket, or someone who chatted with their friends while their hands held their backpack straps, or someone who scrolled through their phone with their earbuds stuffed in their ears.
You moved through the swinging doors at the entrance and began walking through the halls as fast as your legs could take you, your eyes darting to the room numbers at the top right corner of the doors.
222, 222, 222, you mouthed, reading that all the numbers began with one.
After a while, you came to the conclusion that there was a second floor, but where were the stairs?
Your mom had given you a notepad with a small pen in case you had to communicate but you looked around, finding that no one seemed approachable at all.
There were some people who wore their uniform completely wrong, even if there was barely any thought into putting it together.
There were people who didn't even have backpacks, and you were suddenly doubting if they went here.
"Oi."
You were startled by someone touching your shoulder and you turned, being met with a stare the colour of sunsets.
She has long, dark green hair that she kept in a ponytail and eyes framed with pink glasses. She was very beautiful, but it was also hard to look past the look in her eyes as if she were irritated with you. Her brow raised and you saw her mouth move in a shape that seemed to say, "You look confused."
You nodded and held up your notepad, which she took and read, both her brows now raising.
I'm deaf, so I wasn't sure who to ask for help. My class is room 222.
She gave it back to you and she opened her mouth to speak... while also raising her hands to sign.
"That room's upstairs. I'm in the same class."
You almost forgot to follow as she turned around and began walking away.
"You can sign?" you asked once you caught up.
"Yep. My friend's mute, so that's the only way he communicates. He's in the same class as us, actually, since that's the only teacher that understands him."
"What class is it, exactly?"
"It's for the people who signed up for the sign language program. The teacher teaches while also signing, so me and my friends decided to join it for the friend I told you about."
"Are you a second year? You seem to know a lot."
"Nah, my family's just come here for generations. The Zenin family."
She waited for you to react but you simply nodded and faced forward so you would trip on the stairs and make a fool of yourself.
When you got to the top, she asked, "You've never heard of them?"
"Sorry, am I supposed to have?"
Her lips curled into a proud smirk. "Nah. They're nobodies."
The numbers from the stairs kept increasing, 209, 210, 211... until you reached 222, where the girl pointed. "I'll quickly go to my locker. I'll meet you in class."
As she left, she turned back to you and smiled. "I'm Maki, by the way."
"I'm Y/N."
"Pretty name."
Your face flushed and you quickly entered the class, seeing only four seats in a row at the front.
There were sign language posters that covered a bulletin board opposite to the window and plants.
Plants!
You cautiously approached the desks, seeing if someone had already claimed any of them, and sat at the one nearest to the window - or rather, the windowsill, where plants were lined up.
A while later, a boy with a black mask covering the lower half of his face entered, mid-length light hair threatening to touch his eyelashes.
He spared a glance at you before sitting down on seat away from you and staring straightforward at the blank blackboard.
You only knew of this school because of Nanami and Suguru. They had graduated from here, although their life plans were drastically different. At some point, Suguru was an attorney or something, then he moved to Chisai and became a tattoo artist. Not that he ever told anyone all that much about himself. Nanami became what he studied to be - typical of him.
A part of you was excited to know that you were experiencing the same thing as them, but another part of you knew that it didn't matter where you went, your path wasn't determined.
Soon enough, Maki walked in and sat in between you and the boy, turning to talk to him for a moment before turning to you. "This is Toge Inumaki," she introduced.
The boy leaned forward so you could see him and waved, his cold demeanour that you had mistaken for unfriendliness dropping as you saw his eyes smile.
You smiled and waved back, glad that he wasn't someone that would scare you.
Maki had mentioned that she had a friend in this class, and from her immediate greeting to him, you assumed that it would be him.
You glanced at the plants lining the windowsill, your brain going through the different names like you were reading a storybook.
For some reason, they looked familiar, not in a sense that you had seen the plants themselves before, but in a sense that you had seen them arranged in exactly that way, with a pot of roses to the far left, then daffodils, then daisies, then-
You felt someone's hand on your back and you flinched. "Bell rang," Maki signed.
Your brows raised as a man that couldn't be any less that 190cm. He walked in, his hands jammed in his pockets and round sunglasses covering his eyes although you were indoors.
He sat down, his long legs stretching out so he looked like he was slouching, and he waved at the class. Was he supposed to be the teacher? He looked so young, if it weren't for his height.
You tried recalling the name written down on your paper.
Ah, right.
Gojo Satoru.
He opened a folder from one of the desk's drawers, combing a hand through his white hair as if he were actually channeling what was within it. However, you saw in the reflection of his glasses that while he was looking at a folder, there was nothing inside said folder.
Maki's brows raised, unamused.
It seemed as if she had been there all her life, yet this was only her first day.
You waited for the teacher to stand, which he eventually did, towering over everything in the classroom. "Good morning, I am your handsome and charismatic teacher, Gojo Satoru!"
His face sculpted around his wide grin, as if he were proud of such an intro, and you saw Maki sigh, placing her fingers over her closed eyes as if she were trying to forget a terrible memory.
Did she know him?
"Since today's the first day, I'll just be getting some information to contact your parents and all that stuff. We could play an icebreaker game, but I can't really think of any, unless you want to move the desks aside and play dodgeball."
You glanced at Maki, who looked at you with an expression that greatly resembled your mother's when people fought out in front of the shop. Once you offered her a reassuring grin, she let out a heavy sigh that dropped her tensed shoulders, and she looked at the light purple form that Gojo had handed out to everyone in the room, of which there were only three.
The form had blank lines that asked for phone numbers, emails, birthdays, addresses and names.
You began scribbling down the important numbers: your mom's, your dad's, Tsumiki's mom's, and Suguru's, then your address, which needed "the apartment above the shop" to be added as a side note, as you didn't necessarily had an address, but the shop itself did.
When you snuck a peak at Maki's paper, she had paused at the spaces for the phone numbers. It hadn't asked for your parents' numbers, per se, but it was heavily implied by the part that said "important adult," although it was vague.
She turned to you and tapped your shoulder, handing you a note. Can I use your parents' phone numbers?
You tilted your head and glanced at her, about to sign like you did with Tsumiki in class, then realizing that the teacher not only knew sign, but also only had three people to really look at.
As you began to write on the back on the sticky note, the word, "Why?" forming at the end of your pencil, you paused, remembering Nanako and Mimiko.
They were adopted by Suguru before he moved there, and since he wasn't married, nor was he nearly old enough to have kids, gossip spread like wildfire until he told the story of how he adopted them through a court case.
"Sometimes, people aren't meant to be parents, but they end up being one anyway. It's not the kid's fault that they got the short end of the stick. Sometimes, you've got to step up for them, you know?"
You erased the word and put your parents' numbers, as well as the number of the shop, and handed the sticky note back to her.
She bowed her head in thanks and scribbled them down before everyone had to hand their form to the teacher.
"Are you guys siblings or something?" Gojo asked when he saw you and Maki's.
Inumaki glanced at you, likely knowing full well that you and Maki were in no way related.
Maki shrugged. "You said an important adult. You never said our parents."
Gojo stared for a minute before nodding. "Makes sense!" When he went to put them away, however, he stared at your paper for a long while before tossing it on his desk, into an empty folder.