Beep. Beep. Beep.
Haruto's alarm pierced the morning silence. He groaned in protest under his blanket, one eye cracking open to squint at the numbers on his clock—6:30 a.m.
With the slow grace of a sleep-deprived zombie, he sat up, hair tousled like a nest of sleepy crows. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He moved through his usual morning routine in preparation for the second day of his new school. A few minutes later—bed hair flattened, uniform sharp, bag over shoulder, and sandwich in mouth. Haruto opened his door to the smell of dewy pavement and the distant sound of someone's radio playing an old country song.
The streets were still stretching awake as he walked, hands in his pocket, eyes half-lidded.
After a short walk to the subway station, he boarded the train silently, tucking himself into a corner seat and leaning his head against his bag. The scent of metal and newspapers lingered in the air. Businessmen and women in stiff suits gripped suitcases and newspapers, their eyes distant and frequently checking their watches. A group of high school students in uniforms stood in a cluster near the exit, laughing too loudly for the hour.
Why are they so loud? It's 7 a.m., not a festival.
It was Haruto's favorite part of the day. No small talk. Just motion. Just the hum of life happening around him without pulling him into it.
The bell chimed, and Haruto slipped into the classroom just before the homeroom teacher stepped in.
"Yo Haruto!" A voice from behind made Haruto jump from his seat.
Souta. Of course.
Loud. Smiling like the sun. Always in a bright mood. Haruto's polar opposite, and friend, somehow.
"Morning," Haruto muttered, taking out his school materials. He didn't smile, but his eyes twitched, betraying the smallest hint of tolerance—maybe even… acceptance.
Souta, plopping back into his seat with a dramatic sigh, slapped Haruto's back like they were childhood friends who fought dragons together—no, they did not.
"So! Clubs registration today, I'm so joining the volleyball club. Spikes, dives, blocks—I can already see my dramatic sports anime arc beginning!" Souta whispered loudly, failing to keep his voice down despite the teacher standing close.
Haruto blinked. "You already picked?"
"Exactly," Souta grinned. "I was always in the volleyball club. What about you? Any choices?"
Haruto hesitated for a second. "Maybe literature club."
Souta paused. "Wait, literature? The most boring club in the whole universe?"
Haruto calmly nodded like he had unlocked the secrets of life. "Yes, quiet room, no yelling, minimum human interaction. Ideal"
There was a pause.
Then—
"Pffft!" Souta burst out laughing, completely not attempting to keep his voice down.
The teacher turned around and glared. "You two, be quiet!"
"Sorry!" They chorused and bowed in apology.
As they sat down, Souta whispered, grinning ear to ear. "You need help, Haruto, you're acting like a retired grandpa."
"And you need volume control." Haruto retorted.
They both smiled.