The chatter of students hums along as objects skitter by. The drills of a pencil of hurried homework, the creak of chairs as some rush to their seat, and the chatters between cliques and groups.
This was normal. No love triangle, no murderer awaiting at the school at night, no climbing the ranks of the school for power or anything unusual of that sort—just a regular school.
Madoka let out a contented sigh. This is what he wanted. A life without the dragging urge to accompany and help as a sidekick. If anything, this is the longest he had gone without interpreting things as a story or narrative—five months, three days, and fourteen minutes to be exact. A quitting alcoholic would be proud.
Madoka looked out at the window as he lazily lay on the table, his arms cushioning his head. The sunlight gleams through the window, wrapping him in warmth, and his lashes flutter as he blinks slowly. He sat farthest at the back, by the window, a seat that was often accompanied by whoever he deemed the 'main character,' but now it was his for the taking.
Slowly, the buzzing class became quiet. Madoka looked up, straightening up to look more proper. In front, the teacher walked to her desk, and a boy followed behind her. "Settle down, class; today, we have a new student…" The rest of her sentence seemed to blur in Madoka's head.
The new student has snow-white hair; the inner layer, though, was a shade of violet that matched his eyes, and on his left ear was a hanafuda earring with lilac patterns engraved on it. It was unique; a contrast to the simple brown and black-haired crowd.
But the problem is that it's too unique. As if the white silvery hair is there to scream—'Hey, look at how much my character design still stands out in a uniformed setting!!'.
'Therefore,' Madoka concluded, 'He must be part of a main cast! But in which genre and in what role?'
Footsteps approach, steadying by Madoka's desk, "Excuse me, can I sit here?" A chipper melodic voice asks. 'Romance? No, wait, I didn't see any other colorful characters!'Modoka mocked himself.
"Um, hello? I don't mean to disturb, but…" The voice continues.
'Uh, no…maybe sports?' Madoka suggested to himself, 'No, that doesn't make any sense. Oh! Maybe the setting is unrelated to the school, that's fine! As long as I don't interact with him, then-'
A hand came into view; that waving hand blocked Madoka's view, and the owner of that hand was a certain white-haired individual. A soft chuckle escaped the culprit's lips. "Finally, I've caught your attention."
Then, the realization hits Madoka like a truck: He is in a back row seat, one by the window, at a desk that holds two people. 'The classic main character spot,' Madoka thought, staring, eyes slightly wider, at his new seatmate, now confirmed as a 'main character'.
"Yes, the seat is free," Madoka finally responds before blankly turning his gaze to the now-shared desk. "Oh, that's good. It would've been even more awkward if I had just stood there for no reason," the other comments, sounding relieved.
"…", 'I wish I could say that was the point, but it was unintentional'
"So, what's your name?" The silver-haired fellow asked with a grin in his voice.
"Wada Madoka," He paused, this time making eye contact. "What's yours?"
"Fujikawa Hiroka."
"Okay," Then silence ensues.
'That's it,' Madoka comforted himself, 'You're doing good, Madoka, just keep ignoring him. Then you'll be able to continue that long streak of sobriety.'
Madoka then did as he said and ignored Hiroka except for the times when he asked for notes, asked for an eraser, asked for explanations, asked for an… 'This isn't right!' Madoka mentally sulks after explaining some points about poisson distribution in a question.
"There's also another similar question on page 5, number 8, you can practice on." Madoka pointed, languidly pressing the tip of his pen at certain sections as he clarified. "Got it?" he asked, and Hiroka nodded before turning back to his worksheet.
Class then went on as Madoka tried to distance himself, at least enough to not come off too brazenly as to not offend this probable protagonist. Madoka pressed his lips into a thin line as he occasionally jotted down notes, ignoring one of the few things he could afford to feign ignorance over: the periodic glances by Hiroka.
It would land on his notes most of the time, sometimes at Madoka's hand, and simply at his profile, likely past him at the view outside, in some sort of monologue about new schools and fitting in. 'Ugh,' Madoka mentally groans, wanting to cradle his head in distress, curling up on his chair.
He wouldn't do that in reality, of course, since it didn't fit his personality; then again, his expressions tend to stick to a simple poker face unless he chooses to change it for more drastic reactions. Still, even if he were to do so, these actions would not quell the regret he felt for choosing the window seat long ago. He wasn't even happy with the backseat in general! He would much prefer sitting right in front of the teacher instead! Moreover, he should be the one observing Hiroka instead since he's the protagonist!
As class went by, the bell rang, ringing in annoying repetition. But for the students, it was perfect, a tempo that frees them from their cage. 'Finally,' Madoka thought, quickly packing his things and standing up, ready to be an escapee.
"Wada-kun," A voice called.
Madoka stopped at the door, and other students walked past.
"Yes, Ando-sensei," Madoka responded, turning to the teacher. Ando-sensei smiled softly, briefly looking in Hiroka's direction, "I see you and the new student are getting along well."
"…I guess you could say that," Madoka mumbled, following Ando-sensei's line of sight, as his mind drones with 'Please don't say it. Please don't say it. Please don't say it.'
"That's great, since you two are bonding well". 'Please don't say it. Please don't say it.'
"Why not show him around the school?"
"...Yes, sensei," Madoka drawls out a reply, heading to Hiroka's desk and standing by it.
"Oh, you're back," Hiroka commented, noticing Madoka and his slightly more grim expression. "Did the teacher force you to stay as a guide?"
"Yes, but it's fine. Since I'm not busy at the moment," Madoka politely responded, hoping to maintain a polite but indifferent appearance now that his many attempts to ignore the other person had failed. "Shall I start touring the classrooms, or is there any specific place you want to go first?"
"Anywhere is fine," Hiroka commented, grabbing his bag as he followed Madoka down the hall. They pass by the classes as Madoka lists each room's purpose, with occasional descriptors in between.
"This is class 12A…" Madoka pointed at the class they came from.
"Yeah, I know that's our class", Hiroka responded with a chuckle.
…
"..Art class…" Madoka led him through a hall full of paintings, stopping in front of a class.
"Ooh! This painting is nice."
…
"Gym, though it's closed off currently…" Madoka said, standing in front of the heavily duct-taped doors with yellow caution tape stationed in front, as if it were normal.
"mhm"
"Cafeteria, and there's the lunch station, with there being the snack station by it if you want to eat a snack during breaktime."
"That's nice to know."
Then they head to the clubrooms, "This is where the clubs are; there is art, sports, mathematics, and many other educational niches." Madoka paused in front of the emptier rooms. "Feel free to ask them to join if anything here caught your attention, though it might be hard to mingle with them since certain groups are only there to talk about that one subject."
There was no response.
Madoka turned to Hiroka, only to see him staring blankly in front of one of the many closed clubrooms. "Certain clubrooms do get closed down," He started, "It's mainly due to violations of certain rules, whether it's one big strike or three minor strikes; it could also be due to the lack of members that would usually lead to them naturally disbanding."
Again, there was no response. The other was tense, eyes glaring through the curtains of the room as if observing something. Madoka then steps forward, glancing through the curtain opening, eyes scrunching up, trying to see through the creeping darkness.
'Inside there seems to be a—'
"What club was this?" Hiroka interjected. '…piano'
"It's the music clubroom; as you may have noticed, we don't have a music class, so some students back then rounded up some money to make a music club of their own, since instruments can be quite expensive." Madoka gestured to the curtains laced in cobwebs.
"But, things didn't end well… one of the students actually went missing during one of their nighttime band practices; it was the lead singer who went missing, and not only that, it is said that those who linger by the clubroom halls may still hear an E6 note echoing." Madoka paused, realizing that he might end up ruining his chance of normalcy if a goose chase ended up happening. "But that's what the rumors going around said." He then clarified.
Sadly, it seemed he didn't stop in time, and Hiroka was now drenched in sweat, thumbs twiddling. 'Most likely scared,' Madoka thought, ready to end the tour.
"I-uh, is there a way to get inside—to get inside the club? " Hiroka asked, his voice pitched high, stretching random words each time, "…F-for regular reasons," His tone far too low, with stutters and all.
"There is…" Madoka's eyes glide over the other's flustered face, slightly perplexed. "You could ask Ando-sensei, since she supervises all clubrooms, so she might have the key to the clubroom."
"Oh, okay!" Hiroka exclaimed, turning to head in the wrong direction.
"But," Hiroka paused in his steps, looking back at Madoka, who questioned him. "Why, might I ask, do you want to enter this room?"
"O-oh, it's, uhh" Hiroka stretches the vowel, once again dripping in sweat. 'Could it be?' Madoka thought, 'Is it a murder mystery? Regardless of how I'd always try to avoid a storyline. If there's a murder going on, then there's no harm in helping, plus we are far too old for a middle schooler's one-time no-snooping moral of the story.'
"..uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" '…and I might as well help the fool'
"Is it a novel or maybe a game? Usually, people get into psychology or go into places with scarier atmospheres in order to get inspiration these days." Madoka sighed, giving out ideas that did not fit that well, looking at the nervous wreck in front of him.
"Y-yeah! yEAH, that's it!" Hiroka nodded, head moving up and down like a chicken pecking feed.
"Alright," Madoka nods, "Then let's ask Ando-sensei about the key tomorrow."
"W-wait, why not now?"
"Because the gym is under construction." Madoka shrugs, "So, everyone is not allowed to stay here too late."
Madoka tilted his head to the various clubrooms, "That's why the clubrooms are currently empty." Hiroka nodded slowly, scanning the vacant rooms he walked past, and finally, the emptiness of it was gradually processed.
"Oh, right, that does make sense." Hiroka chuckled awkwardly, squeezing out a small "Sorry". Though it was not out of begrudging pride, nor does it seem to be a habitual slip of pitiful apologies. With the way it was reluctantly forced through his teeth. The way he stood right in front of Madoka, back to the abandoned club room, one foot facing him, while the other tilted to the club. It really does show his reluctance to leave.
But why?
Madoka simply stares at Hiroka, in silence, and he stares back. Quite eagerly, too. But it seems more like he's staring past him. He has already done it three times at this point. It almost gives Madoka the urge to look back.
"We should head home," Madoka said, turning away as he began to walk through the halls. "Come quick, I'm not the type to wait, especially since we've already taken a stop for too long".
As Madoka leaves with Hiroka trailing behind, almost instinctively, through temptation, Madoka glances at the wall that was previously behind him.
There was nothing there.
At the school's gate, Madoka glances at Hiroka as the other gave a large wave, arm swinging left and right as he departed with a big grin. "Bye! Hope we can keep getting along together!"
Madoka gave a small wave back.
————————————————————
Late at night, amidst a sleepy haze, a realization struck Madoka,
'I GAVE EXPOSITION!!'
Madoka's face morphed into various expressions of grief and loss before settling on indignation, represented by minor quirks of his brow and mouth. Before he eventually started wailing into his pillow, hoping to expel what emotion he had, punching it in fits of embarrassment and regret, only to be met with mediocre fluffiness.
In the end, he lay there once more screaming, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…". But the pillow has bad soundproofing. So, he rolled over, facing the ceiling, no longer screaming in embarrassment. Instead, he thinks about screaming in embarrassment, eyes shut.
It was a sleepless night for Madoka as he lay on his lumpy pillow.