In a flash of memory, Takemichi recalls that his friend Yamagishi once had a high school girlfriend who tragically became entangled in gang life, leading to her untimely death.
For the sake of his friend, Takemichi is determined to alter this dark...
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━──── Early the next morning, Takemichi arrived at school earlier than usual, driven by determination to talk to you. The corridors were still cloaked in a tranquil silence, only occasionally interrupted by the soft echo of his footsteps. As he made his way to Class A-1, a sense of anticipation quickened his pace.
Reaching the classroom, he gently peeked his head through the door. His eyes immediately fell upon a girl seated at the back, her head nestled in the crook of her arms as if the world had quietly slipped away.
A student turned her head towards the door. Her eyes alight with curiosity as she noticed Takemichi lingering nearby. With a delicate tilt of her head and a quizzical look, she asked him. His face did not spark any recognition within her memories of their class, prompting her to inquire softly, her voice tinged with wonder and intrigue. "Hey, do you need something?"
Takemichi's body grew rigid as an uneasy smile spread across his face. His hand instinctively reached for the back of his neck, fingers tracing the contours of tension there, a subtle gesture that revealed his unease. "Uhh...yeah. Can I talk to (L/n)-san for a bit?"
"Oh. So you're here for (L/n)." The girl spoke with a voice that was steady and calm, as if what she just heard was as ordinary as the passing of time. Her words hung in the air, serene and unperturbed. Suddenly, her gaze shifted, and she began to scrutinize Takemichi, her eyes traveling from his head to his toes. It was as though she was taking in every detail, her eyes lingering with a quiet intensity, observing him like some kind of critique. "You don't look handsome enough. You should've at least removed that lame hairstyle."
"Eh?" Takemichi blinked, confused by the comment.
The girl suddenly turned to the class and said loudly, "(L/n)! Here comes another one of your admirer!"
The entire class stirred in response, a ripple of reactions spreading like gentle waves through a tranquil sea. Heads turned as if choreographed, their attention drawn to your slumbering form. Some couldn't help but let out soft whistles of amusement, while others, caught up in the moment, broke into spontaneous applause. It was a scene of contrasts: the hushed whispers of those amused, the soft rustling of papers being nudged aside, and the faintest of giggles escaping from the corners of the room. All eyes momentarily diverted from their tasks, captivated by this unexpected interlude, creating a tableau of fleeting yet vivid expressions across the classroom.
