A week had passed since the email arrived, bringing the exhilarating news that I had been accepted as a student at the school. With a mix of excitement and nerves, I packed my belongings and hurried to catch the train. It was September 6th, and as I embarked on this new adventure, I couldn't help but think that in four short years, I would return to the world outside, leaving behind the freedom of birds. I resolved to make these next four years the best of my life, even if that meant simply being average at Swemaday.
Upon my arrival at the school, I rushed to the notice board, eager to check my class assignment. I knew I would be in Class F, yet a part of me still clung to the hope that perhaps, against all odds, I might find myself in a different class. However, deep down, I recognized that there wasn't a smidgen of doubt in my mind—I was destined for Class F. With determination, I approached the board to see who would be sharing this journey with me.
As I scanned the list, my heart raced when I spotted my name alongside Nataki's in Class F. A surge of exhilaration coursed through me; I was thrilled to be in the same class as him. I wanted to witness his growth and, more importantly, forge a friendship that I hoped would flourish during these years of newfound freedom—like a bird soaring through the sky, an ordinary person in this extraordinary place.
With the names of my classmates etched in my memory, I turned to my left and caught sight of Nataki. He was intently studying the board, his eyes filled with curiosity and passion. The bold grin on his face radiated determination—the unmistakable expression of someone with a goal to strive for.
Seizing the moment, I greeted him with a smile. "Hey Nataki, did you see?"
"Yeah, I saw! Let's do our best together; we're Class F buddies after all," he replied, his enthusiasm infectious.
"Absolutely! Together, we're a team," I responded, and we fist-bumped, marking the beginning of our newfound friendship.
A genuine smile spread across my face—a rarity for me. I seldom smiled without reason, but now, with this sense of freedom and Nataki as my first friend at this school, I felt a warmth blossoming within me. He was not just a friend; he was one of the first true connections I had ever made in my life, and I was ready to embrace whatever adventures
"Wanna head to the auditorium now for the entrance ceremony?" I asked casually, trying to keep my tone light.
"Sounds good to me! Let's go," he replied, his bright smile lighting up his face.
As we walked, he quickly turned to me with a curious glint in his eyes. "What are your specialties? What are you talented at?"
His question caught me off guard. I had so many talents, but which one should I choose to share? If I were honest, I'd say chess. I had once beaten a supercomputer at the game, and even the world's top-ranked player didn't stand a chance against me. Chess was my passion; it challenged my mind and allowed me to navigate the board with the same freedom a bird feels in the sky. But I knew how people might perceive me in Class F. With my physique, they'd likely expect me to be good at sports or physical activities. So, I decided to go with something more conventional.
"My talent is running," I stated boldly, maintaining a calm and collected demeanor, confident in my abilities.
"Wow, that's awesome!" he exclaimed as we continued toward the auditorium.
As we approached the grand entrance, I turned to him with a polite smile. "What's your talent? I'm curious, if you don't mind me asking."
From the look on his face, I sensed that he wasn't quite sure what to say. It wasn't that he lacked talent; rather, he seemed to excel in many areas without standing out in any particular one.
"Nothing much, really. I'm probably best at, um…" he hesitated, and I couldn't resist teasing him a little.
"Being straightforward," I suggested playfully.
"Nah, no way! I'm not that bad. My talent is being straightforward," he shot back, trying to defend his dignity.
"It's looking that way," I said with a calm smile, enjoying our light banter as we settled into some seats in the corner of the auditorium.
"Fine, my talent is handwriting," he admitted reluctantly. "But in general, I'm solid all around."
I could tell, even before he confessed, that his talent wasn't particularly unique or special. But there was something endearing about his modesty and the way he carried himself, and I couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity behind his words.
"Least it's something; I almost thought being straightforward was it," I joked.
"Yeah, yeah, very funny! At least it ain't running, which isn't needed as much," he shot back with a smirk.
"Well, my talent is actually something useful! Most people can write just fine," I replied, teasing him a little.
"I don't know about that. Did you hear about that one student in our class who had terrible handwriting and scored poorly because of it?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
I was genuinely surprised and curious. "Who would let bad handwriting cost them so much? I wonder how they ended up in Class F."
Just as we were diving deeper into our conversation, the entrance ceremony began. In the blink of an eye, the crowd fell silent as two students stepped up to the podium. One was a girl and the other a boy.
"Hello everyone! My name is Shaelo Royogada, and I'm your Student Council President. I'm a third-year, and I'm delighted to welcome you all to Swemaday High. As a fellow student, I hope you can enjoy and cherish every moment of your time here," the boy confidently stated. His calm posture, broad shoulders, and striking features—complete with long lashes and tousled brown hair—caught my attention. I made a mental note to learn more about him.
After he finished, the girl stepped up. She had long, soft blonde hair that gleamed like glass, cascading down her shoulders. As she held up the mic, her illustrious voice filled the auditorium with a calm, collected tone.
"I'm Strada Azura, your Student Council Vice President. I'm a senior here, and I hope all of you can find yourselves in a great place in due time. Now, have a good time because once I finish this speech, you will officially be students at this elite high school at the top of the tree."
Personally, I would have phrased it as "the birds that fly higher than the rest," but I didn't have all day to critique her statement. I wanted to head off with Nataki and meet our class together.
---
Nataki and I hurried off and approached our classroom, where a sign above the door read "Year 1 Class F." As we quietly entered, I noticed around twenty students already seated, though I knew that wouldn't be all of them—there would be forty of us in total.
Scanning the room, my eyes landed on a girl with honey skin and long, curled black hair, who was glaring at me as if I'd done something wrong. Nearby, a boy with slicked-back black hair caught my attention; there was something interesting about him. In another corner, a girl with long red hair and a slim build was animatedly chatting with another girl, who had silky smooth golden blonde hair and "astoundingly beautiful legs." I couldn't help but think she looked pretty. Lastly, a boy caught my eye; just one glance at him told me he was likely much smarter than the rest. I wondered if he was the one with the messy handwriting I had heard about. I knew I'd find out soon enough, so I didn't dwell on it.
As I approached my seat, a tough-looking boy with broad shoulders and a muscular build, sporting short, thin black hair, greeted me enthusiastically. "Yo, pretty boy! Nice to meet ya! I'm Kuda Zayophina."
"Yeah, likewise. I'm Tufa Poyori," I replied casually, maintaining a cool, emotionless expression.
"Guess we're sitting next to each other this year! Make sure you've got those answers ready because I'm as dumb as a rock."
"You might be even dumber," I shot back sarcastically.
"Haha, you're a funny one for sure! I know we'll get along. Let's be buddies, Tu!" he exclaimed, calling me by a nickname as if we'd known each other for years.
Intrigued, I decided to roll with it. "Alright, but just so you know, I ain't that smart either, so don't come begging me for answers I don't have."
"Yeah, yeah, I don't care if you're smart or not. I'm asking you because I'm dumber than a truck, and you're my buddy, right, Tu?" He declared, his voice laced with playful defiance. I responded swiftly, a languid expression spreading across my face.
"Sure, buddy man Ku," I replied, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, as I joked without a care in the world.
After a brief exchange with my newfound friend, Ku, the classroom door swung open, and in strode our teacher, a slight tremor in her legs betraying her nerves.
"My name is Ms. Mokaclora," she announced, her voice wavering slightly. "I will be your teacher for this year and the next four years at this institution. Together, we shall strive to do our utmost as we embark on this journey towards growth and development, with the aspiration of reaching Class S." Her earnestness was palpable, and I appreciated her commitment despite the anxiety that flickered across her features.
"Our class will be competing against others in a system known as the 'Swema Star System.' Swema Stars are essentially what rank our classes; we commence with a solitary Swema Star, placing us at the bottom of the hierarchy, designated as 'Class F.' In stark contrast, Class S begins with an impressive twenty Swema Stars, marking them as the elite. These stars can be earned through tests, exams, special contests, and, notably, 'Swema Showdowns' and 'Swema Special Trip Events.' Furthermore, you'll be introduced to the concept of 'Swemas'—the currency of our school. The more Swemas you possess, the more lavish your purchases can be. Conversely, a lower Swema count limits your options. Each student in Class F will start with 1,000 points, approximately $25, while those in Class S begin their journey with a whopping 20,000 points. Now, as we conclude this school overview, let's proceed with introductions."
I felt a surge of anticipation; I was eager to learn about my classmates. With an impeccable memory that had been honed since birth, I could effortlessly retain names and faces, processing information in an instant—a skill that had always set me apart.
One by one, my classmates introduced themselves, sharing their names, aspirations, and talents. Among them was "Keith Krozya," a boy with striking blue hair and glasses, whose prowess in mathematics was well noted. Next was "Cheri Pofocoro," a seemingly ordinary girl with short pink hair, whose talent for music was perhaps her most distinguishing feature. Then came "Droko Akamai," a brash punk sporting tough shades, whose boastful declaration of his talent—"fighting"—seemed as ridiculous as it was audacious.
Yet, amidst this eclectic mix, a few individuals stood out, capturing my attention with their unique qualities. First was a honey-toned girl with cascading black curls who introduced herself with a fierce determination:
"My name is Stella Auroye, and I am resolute in turning this class around, propelling us from Class F to Class S. I hope we can forge common ground and work collaboratively towards our shared goal." Her bold grin and unwavering gaze suggested she would be a formidable leader, and I felt drawn to her magnetic confidence.
Next, "Nataki Froy" took the floor. His exuberance was unmistakable:
"Hey, nice to meet you all! I'm Nataki Froy, and together, we will strive for Class S as one united entity, no matter the obstacles!" His spirited declaration left an imprint on the class, and while I regarded him as a straightforward friend, I also recognized his talent for clear expression.
As the introductions continued, a series of less remarkable characters passed by—like "Freizo Koenig," a boy with jet-black hair whose talent lay in all things mathematical, and "Mamosa Snooki," a girl with a gentle smile and an air of innocence. Eventually, the next introduction piqued my curiosity:
"My name is Yehuda Shapiro," he stated, his demeanor radiating intelligence. "I will do my utmost to assist this class in achieving Class S." His straightforwardness rivaled that of Nataki, and I sensed a quiet brilliance beneath his unassuming exterior.
A girl with long red hair soon followed, introducing herself as "Nayami Byanoyoki," her talents in volleyball and dance evident in her graceful demeanor. She exuded an effervescent spirit—free-spirited yet competitive.
Then came "Yukafori Zany," a striking girl with golden blonde hair, who charmed us with her warmth:
"My name is Yukafori Zany, and I aspire for us to become steadfast friends, overcoming challenges together as we strive for Class S." Her elegance and kindness were disarming, igniting a spark of intrigue within me.
Finally, the last introduction caught my eye—a boy with bright red hair, reclining lazily at his desk, spoke up with a casual nonchalance:
"I'm Zakahni Shokora, and my talents include sleeping and eating sushi. I hope we somehow make it to Class S." His laid-back attitude and whimsical approach to life rendered him surprisingly fascinating.
As the introductions concluded, the first day of homeroom faded into the background, granting us the freedom to explore the campus. Ku, Nataki, and I made our way to the campus café, where we found every table occupied except one. We quickly ordered meals costing 200 points and settled into our chosen spot. I savored a turkey sandwich that exceeded my expectations.
Amidst our meal, we engaged in lighthearted banter about what to name our newfound friend group.
"How about 'Natuku'?" Ku suggested, a hint of mischief in his tone.
"Natuku? That's essentially just Nataki!" I retorted, Nataki nodding in agreement.
"Then what else? Any other ideas?" Ku pressed.
"What about 'Nozuku' for our group name?" Nataki proposed, his lackadaisical attitude shining through.
In unison, we agreed; "Nozuku" would be the name that encapsulated our burgeoning camaraderie and the promise of adventure that awaited us at Swemaday High.