"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."
The murmur of conversation faded, chairs creaked as students shifted their attention. The girl beside Hayami-sensei stepped forward. Her polished shoes made a soft tap against the floor. Her posture was composed, her gaze sweeping the classroom with calm precision.
"Good morning, everyone. I am here today not only to speak about the welfare of the students of Toshigawa Academy, but also to inform you that the positions of student council president, vice president, and secretary have all been vacated due to graduation."
A soft gasp and low whispers spread like ripples across the room.
"My goal today is to inspect the new first-year students and assess who may qualify to join the student council. If you're interested, please come forward and write your name here." She held up a clipboard, the metal clip glinting in the morning sunlight that streamed through the windows.
"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. Please meet me in the student council room."
Sachiko nodded quietly, her heart thudding louder than before.
"Thank you all for your time," said Yoshida, her voice calm as ever. "Goodbye."
Once she left, Hayami-sensei clapped her hands briskly. "Okay, let's get back to the lesson."
But before the chalk even touched the board, the school bell rang, its sharp chime bouncing off the classroom walls and signaling lunch. The classroom exploded into chatter and movement—chairs scraping, bags unzipping, wrappers crinkling.
On the rooftop...
"The breeze up here is quite nice," Tetsuo murmured. A cool gust tousled his dark hair, carrying with it the faint scent of fresh-cut grass and cafeteria bread from below. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the quiet hum of distant traffic and the occasional bird call settle around him.
It had been a year since he'd played basketball—really played. Yet somehow, his body remembered. The tension in his wrist before a shot, the satisfying give of the rim, the electric snap of the net. His chest still held the rhythmic thump from the game. A sheen of sweat clung to his neck, drying slowly in the breeze.
It felt... almost good.
But the feeling faded quickly.
"Back then… it wasn't fun," he whispered. "It was all I had. The only thing that kept me sane… other than my sister."
A flicker of memory pierced his thoughts:
"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 breath caught. 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 shattered the moment.
"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?"
"…Yeah."
"I was really impressed with how you played earlier. You've got serious skill—especially with those three-pointers."
Tetsuo exhaled sharply. "Just get to the point."
The girl chuckled softly, her voice warm like a sunbeam. "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. "I have responsibilities at home."
"Oh. I see…" Her voice faltered, then brightened. "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, its case covered in small stickers, and held it out. "Here. Let's exchange numbers. Just in case you change your mind."
Tetsuo stared at it for a beat, then pulled out his phone, the screen warm in his hand. He entered his info without looking at her.
"Thanks! See you later, Kawaguchi!" she said with a sunny smile as she trotted off.
He sighed once she was gone, the quiet rushing back like a tide. "Well… that was awkward."
The bell rang again, its echo bouncing through the stairwell as Tetsuo made his way down. His footsteps were slow, deliberate.
But before he could step off the roof, a figure blocked his path.
"Hello. Your name is Tetsuo Kawaguchi, right? Can I speak with you for a moment?"
Tetsuo raised an eyebrow, his hand still on the stair rail. "Who's asking?"
"I'm Yukio Hamaguchi. Captain of the basketball team."
Tetsuo frowned. "If this is about me joining the team, I already told your manager I can't. I've got things to deal with at home."
He moved to step past Yukio, the scent of sun-warmed concrete and rust filling his nose.
"Wait—just one question," said Yukio.
Tetsuo paused, annoyed. "What is it?"
"Which junior high school did you play for?"
Tetsuo's eyes narrowed, the air between them stiff. "I didn't."
He brushed past him.
Yukio watched him go, 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…
"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." Her voice was soft, almost drowned by the air conditioning's hum.
"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 behind long lashes.
"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.