The school bell rang, a sharp, metallic sound that signaled the start of a new prison sentence. Today was my first day at Taiki High School. It was an imposing place—the kind of school that boasted about its massive football and baseball pitches and its multiple basketball courts. To everyone else, it was a land of opportunity; to me, it was just a larger stage for the same old lies.
I stood at the gate, rooted to the spot, watching the spectacle. Groups of three or four students walked past, their laughter echoing off the concrete. Girls huddled together, blushing and whispering as they watched the "handsome" boys pass by. It was nauseating.
"Why do I even have to go to high school?" I thought. The answer was simple and bitter. My mother had two final wishes: for me to be kind, and for me to graduate. I'd already failed the first one. I couldn't break both promises at once.
"Yo, are you lost or something?" A hand landed on my shoulder. I felt a surge of cold irritation. The guy stepped around to face me with a friendly grin. "What's the matter, friend?"
"Tck." I clicked my tongue, my eyes narrowing as I stared him down. I let a sharp smirk crawl onto my face—not one of joy, but of mockery. "Trying to be friendly, huh? I know what you're planning to do, jerk."
He recoiled, his smile faltering. "What the hell, man? I was just trying to help you."
"Trying to help me, you say?" I slapped his hand off my shoulder with enough force to make him stumble back. "I know the game. Help me, make me trust you, and then stab me in the back once I'm comfortable. Isn't that right?"
He stood there, mouth agape, before his confusion turned into a scowl. "What a weirdo. I'm just trying to be nice." He turned and walked away, muttering under his breath.
I looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful day, entirely too bright. My mind drifted back to the hospital, to my mother, Kuroda, lying in a coma.
"Hamasaki dear," her voice echoed. "Promise me you'll graduate... and be kind..." I remembered her tears, her lips moving to say something I could no longer hear. I had given up on being kind long ago.
I made my way to the bulletin board to find my name. Class 1-C. No familiar names. No familiar faces. Relief washed over me.
"Hey, what class are you in?"
"I'm in Class 1-C," I replied instantly. It was a reflex, a ghost of the 'kind boy' I used to be. I hated myself for it the moment the words left my mouth. Muscle memory was a curse.
"Really? I'm in Class 1-B!" the girl chirped. She was shorter than me, with bobbed sky-blue hair and eyes like a curious cat. She beamed at me. "I guess we're neighbors now. Nice to meet you!"
While looking at her smile confused.
Suddenly.
"Cheater!"
"Did you really think she'd love you?"
the voices of the past clawed their way back. My eyes widened. Rage bubbled up, hot and suffocating. But and then "Oh crap, gotta go! See you later!" She ran to her class.
"Shit," I muttered. "See you later, my ass." I said while looking at the girl running.
The hallway was a cacophony of chatter. Every laugh felt like a personal insult. Someone bumped into me from behind, shouting a quick "I'm sorry!" as they kept running. I stood still, my gaze fixed on their back like a predator watching prey, my hands trembling with the urge to lash out.
Finally, I reached Class 1-C. I waited outside for a full minute, listening to the happiness vibrating through the door, before I pushed it open.
I finally entered Class 1-C. The room was standard. Thirty-six students. Eighteen boys, eighteen girls. I navigated to the very back, taking the seat by the window. I slumped down and reached for my earphones, desperate to drown out the world.
"Hey, good morning!" I looked up. A tall, athletic guy with a yellow buzz cut was standing over me, grinning. "Nice to meet you, my friend! My name is Sama Ichirou. You can call me Sama."
I stared at him, offering nothing. He didn't move. He just stood there, radiating that exhausting "good guy" energy. I didn't want to get suspended on day one, so I forced the words out.
"Hamasaki... Tamotsu."
"Okay then! Can I call you Hamasaki?"
"Don't even think abo..."
"Hamasaki it is! I'm counting on you, buddy!" He gave a thumbs up and headed to his seat before I could finish my sentence.
I leaned my head against my hand and looked out the window. The world outside was vibrant, full of life, and utterly fake.
"What a boring day," I whispered.
"Okay, everyone, take your seats!" the teacher barked as he stepped into the classroom.
The room settled instantly.
"My name is Takehiro Tsuruta. I'll be your homeroom teacher this year," he announced. I didn't care. I kept my gaze fixed on the window, watching the branches of the cherry blossom trees sway in the distance. The world inside this room felt like a suffocating cage.
"Alright, let me call out your names. when I say your name, please stand up and say 'here,'" the teacher continued, working his way through the list.
"Hamasaki Tamotsu."
Silence.
"Hamasaki Tamotsu!" Tsuruta-sensei called out again. I didn't move. I was miles away, lost in the memory of cold hospital tiles and the smell of antiseptic.
"HAMASAKI TAMOTSU!"
I snapped back to reality and stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Here, sir."
The weight of thirty-five pairs of eyes hit me at once. It was a familiar, uncomfortable heat.
"Would you mind joining the rest of us on Earth, Hamasaki? Or are you looking at a beautiful woman in the sky or something?" Tsuruta-sensei joked.
The class erupted in laughter. It felt like a chorus of nails on a chalkboard.
Shut up, old man, I thought, staring at his laughing face with dead eyes.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," the teacher waved off the laughter. "It's time to get to work. You can sit down now, Tamotsu." I sat back down, the irritation simmering in my chest.
The morning dragged on until the lunch bell finally rang a momentary parole.
"Hey, Hamasaki! Wanna eat together?"
It was Sama Ichirou. Again.
"Like hell I would," I snapped, my voice dripping with venom.
I expected him to get angry, or at least look annoyed. Instead, he just laughed. It was a genuine, easy sound. "C'mon, man, why so rude? You're making me sad!" He said it with a mock-pout, his tone light and playful.
I glared at him, genuinely confused. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Nothing! You're just funny. You get angry so fast, it's entertaining," Sama replied honestly. There wasn't a trace of malice or a hidden agenda in his eyes. Just pure, annoying honesty.
I froze. Why is he being so blunt? Why doesn't he hate me yet? "Whatever, man. Time's running out. Let's go find a spot to eat," Sama said, already turning toward the door.
My brain was still trying to process the lack of a "trap." Before I could think of a reason to refuse, I found myself nodding and following him into the crowded hallway.
We sat at the same lunch table, the atmosphere between us as different as oil and water. I picked at my food, stealing glances at Sama. The question burned in the back of my throat until I couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Hey, Ichirou, why..."
"I told you, you can call me by my first name," Sama interrupted, flashing that same indestructible grin.
"Oh. Sorry," I muttered, the apology feeling like sand in my mouth. I took a breath. "Sama... why aren't you mad at me? I yelled at you. I was a jerk. Why aren't you angry?"
Sama didn't even pause his eating. "Mad at you? C'mon, Hamasaki, there's no reason to be mad at you."
The realization hit me like a physical blow. I recognized that look in his eyes, that unwavering optimism. He was exactly like I used to be back in middle school before everything shattered.
"So, you're a 'kind' person, is that right?" I asked, my voice getting lower, sharper.
"Exactly," Sama responded with a shrug.
I felt a cold shiver of disgust. "I knew it," I thought. I leaned in, my eyes boring into his. "Doesn't it bother you? Don't you get hated or bullied because of that?"
Sama's expression softened, but he didn't look away. "Of course. I've been hated, bullied... I even got betrayed by a friend once."
I froze. If he had been through the same hell, why was he still standing there with a smile? Why hadn't he frozen his heart like I did?
"Then why?" I demanded, my voice rising with a sudden, uncontrollable heat. "Why are you still kind to people, Sama?"
"Because," Sama answered simply, "I know kindness will bring you something great."
That was the breaking point.
SLAM!
I hammered my palms onto the table, the plastic rattling and the sound echoing through the cafeteria. I crashed out, the rage I'd been bottling up for years finally spilling over.
"Stop lying!" I snarled. "That 'something great' doesn't exist! Kindness is a lie. It won't bring you anything but suffering and sadness!"
"Hamasaki, calm down..." Sama reached out, his voice steady, trying to anchor me.
"Shut up, Sama!"
The entire lunchroom went dead silent. Hundreds of students were staring at us, their whispers replaced by a heavy, judgmental vacuum.
I realized then what I'd done, but I was too far gone to care about making a scene.
"I'm going back to class," I spat.
I turned my back on him and walked away, my vision blurred by a mix of anger and something I refused to call pain.
Behind me, Sama tried to call my name, but he stopped.
I didn't look back to see him turning to the crowd, waving his hands and saying, "Hey, hey, everyone! No need to freak out, okay?"
I just kept walking until the sound of the cafeteria was a dull hum in the distance. He was a fool. A happy, kind-hearted fool, and I couldn't stand to be near him.
I was fuming as I walked back toward the classroom.
My mind was still stuck on Sama's stupid smile and his even stupider "kindness" speech. I kept my head down, staring at the floor tiles as I marched through the hallway.
Thud.
I slammed into someone. The impact sent them straight to the floor with a startled cry. I backed off a little, my pulse spiking. I was already in the worst mood possible, and this was the last thing I needed.
"Watch where you're going!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the locker lined walls.
The girl on the floor looked up at me, trembling. She wore glasses and had black hair that fell to a medium length, neither short nor long. She looked like the type who spent all her time in the library, smart but painfully shy.
"I'm sorry... please forgive me," she whispered, her voice shaking as she tried to gather herself. She started to get up, still apologizing even though I was the one screaming.
"Yeah, you should be sorry," I snapped, my tone like ice.
Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the air. "Hey, stop it now!"
I looked up. A second girl was coming behind from me and walk pass me. She was nearly as tall as I was, with long, dark brown hair and eyes that looked like they could pierce straight through a person. She radiated confidence.
"Are you okay, Tamaki?" she asked, helping the girl with glasses to her feet.
Then, she turned those sharp eyes on me. "You're the one who wasn't looking at the way!"
I wasn't about to back down. "What do you know about the situation, huh? She's the one who bumped into me!"
"Bumped into you?" the girl shot back, stepping forward. "Do you even know what you're talking about? You were looking down ever since you left the lunchroom!"
I stopped. I thought back to the last few seconds. I had been staring at the floor. I did it because I didn't want to see anyone's face.
Damn it. She saw me.
"What are you, a stalker?" I asked, trying to keep my cool even as I realized I was in the wrong.
"Don't be ridiculous. We're in the same class," she replied flatly. "There's only one way to the classroom from the lunchroom, idiot!"
I stared at her for a second. I hadn't noticed her in class at all. But then again, I hadn't noticed anyone besides Sama. I didn't care about anyone else.
I felt the heat of defeat rising in my chest. I knew that if I kept arguing and a teacher walked by, I'd end up suspended on day one. I couldn't afford that drama.
"Whatever," I muttered.
I didn't apologize. I didn't look at "Tamaki." I just turned my back on them and continued walking toward the class.
Behind me, I heard the long-haired girl murmur, "I'll let you apologize to her later..."
She didn't chase me. She probably saw the look on my face and realized I was a lost cause for the moment.
I finally made it back to my desk, slumped into the chair, and buried my head in my arms. The wood of the desk felt cold against my forehead.
What a bad way to start high school, I thought.