The crisp morning air was filled with the sounds of excited chatter and the occasional call of a classmate. As I stood with the other students in front of the school's main entrance, I could see the three 45-seater buses lined up, their engines idling and waiting. The anticipation for the trip to Nikko was palpable. Everyone was buzzing with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy, and the atmosphere felt charged with a sense of adventure.
Class C-1, where Hiroto was, was already loading up into the first bus, while Classes B-1 and B-2 were in the process of boarding the second bus. As a member of Class B-1, I was near the end of the line, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the upcoming trip. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the midterms and the usual stress of studying. It was supposed to be a break, but it was hard to shake the nagging feeling of unfinished work.
When we finally reached the second bus, it was clear that it was already packed. With only a few seats left, it became apparent that some students would have to be reassigned. The final call came, and I found myself among the fifteen students who would have to join Class A-1's bus because of the overcrowding. I shuffled through the crowd, carrying my backpack and trying to ignore the rising sense of anxiety.
As I boarded the bus designated for Class A-1, I scanned the rows of seats for a place to sit. The bus was already filled with students from Class A-1, and the only seats available were in the very front. I chose a pair of empty seats in the front row and settled into them, grateful for the chance to sit alone. It was quieter here, away from the buzz of the other students, and I hoped it would offer me a moment of peace.
Just as I was starting to relax, the bus door opened again. Isamu, along with a few other students from Class A-1, walked in. His entrance was met with a mix of hushed whispers and curious glances. I could see him in the reflection of the bus window, and it was impossible not to notice the way he seemed to command attention as he made his way down the aisle.
A girl sitting a few rows back called out to him, "Isamu! Over here!" She waved enthusiastically, clearly eager for him to join her.
Isamu gave a brief nod in her direction but didn't head toward her. Instead, his gaze locked onto me. I could feel the weight of his stare even before he reached the front. Without saying a word, he slid into the seat next to me, leaving no space for conversation. His presence was immediately felt, and I could sense the shift in the air between us.
The bus began to fill up with the remaining students, and the noise level started to rise. I glanced sideways at Isamu, feeling a mix of unease and irritation. The tension in the space between us was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel that recent events were pressing down on me. The chatter of the other students became a distant hum as I focused on the space in front of me.
Isamu seemed indifferent to the discomfort he caused. He stared out of the window, his expression unreadable and distant. I tried to ignore him and turned my gaze forward, concentrating on the scenery outside as we began to roll out of the school parking lot. The trees and buildings of Tokigawa gradually gave way to the open road leading toward Nikko.
Despite the cramped quarters and the uncomfortable presence beside me, I was determined to make the most of the trip. I hoped that the change of scenery and the activities planned for the week would offer me a chance to clear my mind and gain a new perspective. The rhythmic motion of the bus and the gradual transition from the familiar to the new helped to soothe some of my anxiety.
As we left Tokigawa behind, the voices of my classmates faded into a soft murmur, blending with the gentle hum of the bus engine. The trip was just beginning, and I tried to focus on the positives, hoping that the journey would provide a much-needed escape from the stress that had been weighing on me
