Makoto adjusted the lapels of his school uniform, then examined his reflection in the mirror.
He'd woken up uncharacteristically early in order to prepare for the day; he didn't want to slip up and make mistakes at the start of the year. He'd made sure his hair was out of his eyes (for the most part), tucked in his shirt, and buckled his belt. As he zipped up the jacket, he paused.
Who was he kidding?
He left the jacket open and draped his headphones over his shoulders. Once more he turned to the mirror.
Much better.
Makoto stepped into the faculty office, scanning the room for any remaining teachers.
"Are you the transfer student?" A feminine voice called. Makoto turned and nodded to the approaching woman.
Her hair was dark, and pulled back in a ponytail. Her blouse was tucked into her skirt, a matching coat hanging from her shoulders. Her age showed on her face, but her expression was warm. "Yuki Makoto-kun, right? I'm Takami Saeko, your homeroom teacher. Nice to meet you!" She extended a hand, which he shook. "Ah, good grip. You must be a serious young man."
Makoto gave a noncommittal shrug.
Takami snorted. "Not very talkative, huh? This is my first year teaching here, so you're not the only stranger. If you ever need anything, just come see me, alright?" She winked before leading him out of the faculty office and into the spacious hall, her heels clicking on the tile floor. "There's going to be an assembly before homeroom, I'll show you the way."
He followed mutely, eyes dragging over the corridor. The floors gleamed, probably freshly waxed—he wondered what kind of funding the academy had, for everything to be kept so clean and polished.
Within the first five minutes of the assembly, Makoto was ready to turn on his MP3 and take a nap. The principal's speech was bordering on unintelligible, and after yawning for the nth time, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
A few students around him were whispering, heads bowed so they wouldn't attract attention. Snatches of their conversation made their way to his ears.
"Hey, didya hear? There's a new transfer student."
"Another? Is it a boy or a girl?"
"It's a boy—a senior. I heard he's cute. Gives off a mysterious vibe, y'know?"
"Sounds like your type!"
"I wish! But what about the curse? What if he—"
Makoto frowned and put on his headphones.
Takami was a very liberal-minded teacher. She introduced herself enthusiastically and told some stories of her past experiences teaching, of some of her old students. By the end of homeroom, everyone loved her.
The bell rang, and Makoto sluggishly put his books in his bag. His property would probably be at the boys' dorm by now, but before that he wanted to grab something to eat—hopefully Iwatodai would have a lot to offer.
Before he could stand and pursue this line of thinking, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Hey there!" A cheery, masculine voice greeted.
With a sigh, Makoto lifted his head to catch a glimpse of his captor.
The cap-wearing boy looked down at him with a lopsided grin, eyes full of mirth. "Your name's Makoto-kun, right? I'm Iori Junpei. Nice to meet ya!"
Makoto blinked a few times before responding. "What do you want?"
The boy snorted. "Harsh! I was only trying to be nice—I mean, no one else seemed like they were gonna talk to ya."
Well, he had a point there.
"Junpei-kun," came a hesitant chirp from behind. The boys turned their heads.
It was a girl; she was small and pale, large eyes threatening to swallow the upper half of her face. The yellow Gekkoukan sweater had to be a size too large on her, her fingers barely peeking past the sleeves. Her hair was fluffy, but short and choppy, hanging mournfully around her face.
"Fuuka!" Junpei exclaimed, "C'mere and meet the new kid!" He gave Makoto a few pats for emphasis.
The newly-dubbed Fuuka's eyes narrowed—her expression was wary as she approached, bowing her head slightly. "Yamagishi Fuuka. Um, it's nice to meet you."
Makoto stood and bowed back. "Yuki Makoto, same to you." She stepped back, visibly relaxing the more distance she put between them.
"A-Anyway, Junpei-kun, Kirijo-senpai wanted all of us to meet in the lounge later today. I just wanted to let you know."
Junpei smiled. "Alright, thanks for telling me!"
Fuuka frowned and, message delivered, turned and left.
Makoto wondered what he'd done to scare her. Before he could contemplate on it further, Junpei's arm was over his shoulders again. "So, Makoto-kun, hungry at all?"
Tucked into the corner of the Strip Mall was a sushi bar—the sign above the entrance read Gatten Sushi. Junpei opened the door and ushered him inside.
The walls were lined with posters of a visual kei band—Gas Chamber. Behind the counter stood an incredibly tall man, with stylized blue hair and stage makeup. Makoto had the decency to pretend he wasn't gawking in his direction.
"Welcome!" The presumed chef hollered. "What can I, the great Michel, get for you today?"
Junpei greeted 'Michel' with equal enthusiasm, ordering for Makoto and sitting him down. He snorted at Makoto's expression. "I know he looks a little funny, but Mishina-san is the best sushi chef in the city." He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "He gives discounts to everyone that attends his band's concerts."
The posters on the walls suddenly made sense.
For the next hour, Makoto was immersed in blaring rock music and surprisingly good sushi. He'd almost gotten used to the noise level when Junpei suddenly shot up out of his seat. "Oh, shit! I have to get back to the dorm!" He slammed some bills down on the counter and pulled his phone out of his pocket, smiling apologetically. "Sorry to ditch you like this, man, but I seriously gotta go. I'll make it up to ya!" And with that he was charging out of the restaurant.
Michel raised a dramatic penciled-in eyebrow. "Always in a rush, that one." He turned his head to Makoto's empty plate. "Ready for thirds?"
He was.
For fourths and fifths, too.
After the very abrupt but worthwhile demise of his wallet, Makoto headed back to the boys' dorm.
As expected of the renowned Gekkoukan Academy, the teachers immediately immersed the students in work, the curriculums challenging yet also refreshing. It helped that Takami was excellent at her job, and always willing to take questions. Makoto studied vigorously in the evenings.
He would've been studying in the afternoons, too, but Junpei had decided to grant him a social life. Not that it was unwanted—it was better than keeping to himself, and served as a pleasant change of pace.
Junpei helped him tour the different clubs (Makoto ended up sticking with kendo), showed him the best the cafeteria had to offer, and also introduced him to his friend group.
Fuuka, while timid and something of a wallflower, turned out to be very considerate and motivated. She was the president of the newly formed technology club, as well as a member of the cooking club. She invited him to join both, although he'd received some not-so-subtle hints to stay far away from any food she made.
Yukari was the senior captain of the archery club, and obviously good friends with Junpei. Their banter, while sometimes vicious, was offset by their concern and compassion for one another. She was wary of Makoto, though after learning that his main hobbies were eating and sleeping, accepted him as something of a background fixture. Like a lamp. Or a paperweight. She didn't pay him very much attention.
They often spoke of a third girl, a foreigner named Aigis, although she was evidently out sick. He'd seen neither hide nor hair of her.
Once Makoto had unpacked and organized his dorm room, and the second week of school crawled by, things got weird.
A student from the neighboring class, Tomochika Kenji (evidently a friend of Junpei's, given the amount of times they'd run into him at the arcade), had caught him in the hall before first period started. "Hey, you're Yuki-kun right? The transfer student?"
Makoto gave a sleepy nod.
"Anyone told you about the curse yet?" This piqued his interest. He shook his head and entreated Kenji to elaborate. "So last year, there were three transfer students—all in the same class. One came at the beginning of the year like you, one in the summer, and one in the winter. Thing is, a little bit after he'd transferred in, the last guy—his name was Mochizuki—he disappeared. The school apparently got a notice about it, but there was a rumor that he might've run off and eloped or something. Since it was so sudden and all. Then on the day of graduation, one of the girls, Arisato, collapsed."
For one jarring moment, Makoto's thoughts grinded to a halt. Arisato? Could it be a coincidence? He'd have to investigate. He filed the information away for later.
"…And now, Aigis hasn't shown up for class since school started! It's being called the Gekkoukan Curse—a ghost stealing the souls of outsiders. Pretty creepy, right?"
Makoto hummed in agreement. Junpei's overprotectiveness was beginning to make sense; it was no wonder he kept Makoto away from the rest of their classmates, and dragged him out of school as quickly as possible. Perhaps Junpei didn't want him to hear about the curse—or worry about it.
Kenji gave a soft snort before setting his hands on his hips. "Anyway, it's just a rumor. I wouldn't put too much stock in it. Sorry for bogging you down like that, I didn't mean to scare ya."
"It's fine." A suspicion was eating at him, though. He decided to relent. "Was this…Arisato…friends with Iori?"
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "Funny you ask—they were best buds. There were even some rumors goin' around that they were dating. None of it was true, but you get the idea."
Makoto nodded as the bell rang. He and Kenji parted ways and headed to class.
A/N: Chapter one! Hurray! :D I'll admit it's a bit of a slow start, but we're getting there, I promise! Thank you for reading, the next chapter will be up in a week!