Shinjuku Ward, Tokyo — 7:02 AM
Kazuki walked the familiar path to Sakuramine, school bag slung over one shoulder, music drifting through his headphones.
Just the left one — always just one.
The right ear stayed open for the world.
The track was a soft instrumental — no lyrics, no distractions. Just a steady rhythm of keys and strings that matched the sound of his footsteps.
Keep your head down. No noise. No attention.
It was too early for dramatics. Too early to be noticed. That's what he liked about mornings — the quiet didn't ask questions.
Then he passed the window of the same music shop from yesterday.
A poster caught his eye — uninvited.
A familiar stage name printed across the center in bold letters:
KAZ — Still Echoing
He looked away before he could read the rest.
Cute title. They really ran with that one.
Still echoing. Not for long.
He adjusted the collar of his blazer and kept walking, gaze fixed forward.
Then — footsteps behind him.
Soft. Steady. Too consistent to be random.
Please be some random student. Please don't be—
"Kazuki."
He stopped.
That voice wasn't loud. Wasn't mocking. But it knew him — the real him — in a way no one at Sakuramine should have yet.
He turned.
Naomi stood a few paces behind, school bag over her shoulder, the faint wind ruffling her bob-cut slightly. Her uniform was crisp, as if she never rushed a day in her life.
"You ignored that poster pretty hard," she said.
Kazuki blinked, then exhaled slowly. "Didn't see it."
"You always were a bad liar."
She stepped up beside him, matching his pace when he started walking again. Neither of them rushed to fill the silence.
"You don't have to explain it," Naomi said finally. "I get it. But that name's still out there. People remember it."
Kazuki's jaw tightened. "Not here they don't."
"Not yet," she said simply.
He didn't respond.
As they neared the school gates, the crowd noise started to swell — chatter, laughter, someone yelling about bread again. Kazuki instinctively slowed down.
Naomi gave him a sideways glance. "You alright?"
"I'm fine. Just tired."
"You're still doing it," she said.
"Doing what?"
"Hiding behind music." She nodded to his headphones. "Those used to mean something. Now they look like a wall."
He didn't answer, but his grip on the strap of his bag tightened slightly.
Before Naomi walked ahead, she added one last thing over her shoulder:
"You can keep pretending. But Kaz is going to follow you — even if you don't bring him up."
Then she disappeared into the school crowd, leaving Kazuki in the sunlight and shadows, stuck between two names.
Kazuki stepped through the main gates of Sakuramine Academy, expression calm, posture relaxed — or at least, pretending to be.
His blazer was slightly rumpled from the walk. Headphones tucked away. No music. No distractions. Just another morning to survive.
Inside, the halls were already buzzing.
Students circled club posters, flyers littered the floor like snow, and someone was shouting down the corridor about a missing lunch coupon like it was a national emergency.
Kazuki kept walking, weaving through the noise like a ghost.
But ghosts don't get ambushed.
"Yo."
He flinched — just slightly.
Hana.
She fell into step beside him with all the grace of a cat that knew it was about to push a vase off the counter.
"You walk like you've committed three felonies and are trying not to get noticed."
Kazuki didn't stop. "Morning to you too."
"You're chipper," she smirked.
"You're loud."
"Loud gets attention," she shrugged, twirling a pencil through her fingers. "You should try it sometime. Or at least fake a smile so people stop thinking you hate existing."
He shot her a sideways glance. "You always give unsolicited advice?"
"Only to people who look like they're about to bolt into the nearest music store and never come out."
Kazuki stopped walking for half a second — just long enough for Hana to raise an eyebrow.
"Oh no. That was a guess. Wait—did you actually do that?"
He didn't answer. Just kept walking.
She let out a soft whistle. "You're more dramatic than I thought. I approve."
They reached the door to Class 2-B. Kazuki opened it with one hand — and immediately regretted it.
Someone had strung up a banner across the back chalkboard that read:
"CLUB SIGN-UP DEADLINE THIS FRIDAY — Don't Be Boring!"
And underneath it, another, more chaotic scrawl on lined paper:
"Join martial arts or face eternal wimpdom — Love, Hana"
Kazuki gave her a long look.
She grinned. "Marketing."
He walked to his seat, ignoring the heads that turned again — not quite as dramatic as the first day, but still enough to be annoying. A few girls whispered. One waved. Someone from the back tried to mime guitar strumming at him.
He sighed.
Low profile. Remember that?
He dropped into his seat by the window.
A moment later, Hana slid into her own chair — diagonally behind him, where she clearly could still whisper at will.
And whisper she did.
"By the way... I added your name to the martial arts interest sheet."
Kazuki turned just enough to scowl. "Why?"
"To see if you'd react. You did. Thanks."
"Hana," he muttered.
She leaned forward on her desk, chin on her arms. "What? It's not like I put your blood type on the wall. Just a name. A mysterious, brooding name with possible abs. That's marketing gold."
Kazuki buried his face in his hands. "Please don't ever talk about my abs again."
Before he could say more, someone entered the room — fast, flustered, with that "I'm doing too many jobs" kind of energy.
It was Ayame.
She didn't look at him — not yet — just walked to the front, papers in hand, and addressed the room.
"Class announcement: You have three days to submit your club application forms. If you don't, you will be forcibly assigned to a committee. Possibly the 'Clean the Pool in Winter' committee."
Someone groaned in the back. Ayame didn't flinch.
"Oh, and for those of you making fake clubs like 'The Anti-Club Club' — I've already reported you. You know who you are."
Then she turned slightly, eyes brushing across Kazuki's direction for a heartbeat — barely a glance — and returned to her clipboard.
Kazuki's heart did a weird thing he didn't approve of.
Ayame paused again. "Also… if you're on any of my 'Top Ten Probable Club Matches' lists, you will be followed up with. This is not a threat. It's an administrative promise."
Her glasses caught the light as she left the room.
Kazuki sighed again.
Beside him, Hana muttered, "I think she's in love with your social awkwardness."
"I think I'm in hell."
Sakuramine Academy Rooftop — 12:17 PM
The wind was a little stronger today. Crisp, clean, and filled with the scent of warm bread and fresh-cut grass from the track field below.
Kazuki sat cross-legged again, bento in his lap, earbuds tucked away for once.
Shun lounged with his back against the railing, eyes half-lidded like he was always mid-nap. Kenji was perched upside-down on a bench like a child defying structure. Naomi, as usual, sat calmly near the corner, skirt smoothed, her onigiri arranged like museum pieces.
It should've been peaceful.
But it wasn't.
Because Kenji opened his mouth.
"Hey," he said, mid-crunch, "you know what's weird?"
Kazuki didn't look up. "You?"
"Besides me."
Shun added without moving, "The amount of carbs you've eaten today?"
Kenji ignored them. "No, what's weird is that broody over here—" he gestured dramatically at Kazuki, "—still hasn't invited Hana to eat lunch with us."
Kazuki blinked mid-bite.
Naomi immediately perked up. "Oh? That is weird."
"I mean, she basically adopted you in front of the whole class," Kenji continued. "She torments you like it's her job. She threw a headband at a club rep for you. And she definitely has eyes only for transfer-boy vibes."
Kazuki raised an eyebrow. "She does not—"
"She so does," Naomi grinned, unwrapping her second onigiri. "It's adorable. You're like a grumpy cat, and she's a laser pointer that refuses to leave you alone."
Shun chuckled quietly. "More like a punching bag that somehow became her favorite pillow."
Kazuki looked away, flustered. "You're all reaching."
"Then why didn't you invite her?" Kenji pressed. "We've got space. The wind isn't yelling today. And let's be honest — she'd fit right in with us weirdos."
Naomi tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe he's shy."
"I'm not shy."
"Maybe he's scared," Shun offered, smirking. "She does move like she's one punch away from a declaration of war."
"She's not scary," Kazuki said too quickly.
Kenji snapped his fingers. "He's scared. Confirmed."
Naomi leaned forward. "Don't worry, Kazuki. If you want help confessing your feelings to the tiny chaos gremlin who's clearly flirting with you every second—"
"I DO NOT have feelings—"
"Ohhh," all three of them said in chorus.
Kazuki buried his face in one hand, chopsticks clutched like a weapon he considered using.
Naomi patted his shoulder gently. "We support your denial. But not your lack of initiative."
Kenji raised his rice ball like a toast. "To Hana joining the lunch squad before the semester ends!"
Shun lazily added, "And to Kazuki surviving the emotional whiplash."
Kazuki groaned. "You're all the worst."
Kazuki was just starting to regain his composure — chopsticks in hand, halfway into a bite of tamagoyaki — when Kenji dropped the bomb.
"We should hang out after school."
Kazuki blinked. "What?"
"Like, the four of us," Kenji said, waving a rice ball like it was a mic. "There's a new arcade in Shibuya, and rumor has it their crane game success rate is higher than a shonen protagonist's friendship speeches."
Naomi arched an eyebrow. "I call BS on that. Those games are rigged worse than reality TV."
Shun added, "Also, arcades on a weekday? You're gonna make the class rep faint."
"I live to make her faint," Kenji said proudly. Then he turned to Kazuki. "Come on. You need one totally pointless memory before you get dragged into Ayame's club registry hell."
Kazuki hesitated. "I've got homework."
"So do I," Naomi said dryly. "Doesn't stop me from living my life."
"I'll think about it," Kazuki said, but even he knew it wasn't convincing.
Kenji gave him a sideways grin. "We'll be at the station entrance by 4. If you show up, you're buying first round of takoyaki."
Shun smirked. "And if you don't show up, we'll assume you got kidnapped by Hana."
Kazuki sighed.
"…Fine."
Naomi smiled, more to herself than anyone. "Progress."
Sakuramine Academy — After School, 3:43 PM
The front gates of Sakuramine Academy were beginning to empty out. Students filtered past in small groups — laughing, teasing, waving goodbye with bent wrists and full backpacks.
Kazuki lingered just inside the school courtyard, headphones resting silently around his neck. His thumb hovered over his phone's screen, a half-scrolled playlist waiting for a tap.
But he didn't press play.
Not because he didn't want to.
But because he was still listening — to the school's fading noise, the distant club chants, the soft breeze brushing through the sakura trees above the walkway.
He glanced toward the street in the distance, toward the station entrance.
Kenji's voice echoed from earlier:
"We'll be at the station entrance by 4. If you show up, you're buying first round of takoyaki."
Kazuki looked down at his shoes.
He hadn't promised anything.
He'd barely nodded.
But somehow…
It didn't feel optional.
He shifted his weight. A cherry blossom petal clung to the cuff of his blazer, then drifted off as the wind picked up.
He wasn't used to being expected.
Not like this.
Not casually. Not for just existing.
He had been invited into so many rooms before — recording studios, concert stages, private afterparties.
But this was different.
This wasn't about his voice.
This wasn't about "Kaz."
This was about him.
Just a new kid at school. Just a guy someone thought was worth splitting snacks with.
He reached up and slid his headphones over his ears — not to block the world, not for volume. Just for the feeling.
A rhythm in the silence.
He took a slow breath.
Then started walking toward the station.
From a second-floor window above the school courtyard, Ayame stood watching again. Her notebook lay open against the glass, a pen tucked behind her ear.
She tilted her head slightly.
Kazuki wasn't rushing.
But he was going.
She made a small note beneath a doodle of headphones:
Chapter Two: Still in Denial — But Walking Toward the Plot.
Ayame smirked and closed the notebook.
END OF CHAPTER 2