The first thing that strikes me is the alternating black and white marble tiles that pave the ground. The relatively polished floor reflects the vibrant and somewhat overpowering lights that emanate from the ceiling.
The second thing that strikes me is the desolate lack of people. Of course, that's somewhat expected. After all, everyone should be in class. Just my luck to be late on my first day of school.
The complete void of people only serves to accentuate the resounding clicks that my footsteps make as I stumble through the school halls. While my tardiness could be accounting to my anxiety in response to the profusion of rather life-changing events recently, I'm really just lazy and overslept. Yesterday was the last day that I would live in my old home before moving to the school dorms. I was released on Friday, so I had my stuff moved over the weekend. Well, it wasn't me that set things up. By the time I got home from the hospital, my room was completely spotless. Everything was in some truck driving halfway across town – everything except for my bed and a small handwritten note from my parents. I barely skimmed through the note before tossing it and crashing onto my bed. I was exhausted, and didn't care for any half-hearted apology. I spent the weekend lying at home, going through the medical warnings the doctor had imparted with me. I could have visited some old classmates and told them about my departure, but I didn't care to. What was the point?
The trip from my house to the school on Monday was supposed to be an easy one. Just a simple twenty minute bus ride with no transfers at all. But I overslept, missed my bus, and had to walk fifteen minutes to the nearest transit. The closest stop was ten minutes away from the school, making me a whopping forty minutes late to my first day of school. What's worse is that I've just now discovered that the campus is absolutely massive. It took me a few minutes to navigate the outside terrace and find the damn front door. But now I'm learning that the actual school building's got multiple floors, branching halls, connecting rooms, - I just want to find classroom 3-B!
My frustrated rants are kept locked inside as I meander through the expansive halls of Yasogare Academy. I take a ferocious bite out of a chocolate croissant I had bought from a local bakery on the way here, which sates the burning rage that's resonating in my chest. Seriously, getting lost and being late on my first day of school? This is like one of those really bad teenage rom-com films marketed for pubescent girls. The next thing I know, I'll crash into the hottest, most popular guy in school.
I peek around the corner to make sure that I don't eat my own words.
Seeing no suspiciously adult-looking high school studs – or anyone for that matter, I continue navigating the enigmatic floors of Yasogare Academy. Finding a wide spiral staircase, I ascend past the second floor and embark onto the third. I may be making a rash assumption, but I'm guessing that classroom 3-B is on the third floor. I examine each of the nameplates on the doors, and sure enough, I find the entrances to rooms 3-E, 3-D, and 3-C lined down the center hall. As I pass each one, the lively chatter of students can be heard from within. It's only until I'm actually staring at the small steel characters marked "3-B" when I start questioning myself.
What am I supposed to do?
Just walk in there in the middle of their class?
Peek my head in slightly and call the teacher over?
Wait, but shouldn't they already know about me? All of my stuff was already transferred, I'm pretty sure my teacher's would know about me.
After all, they've all been informed of my… condition.
So then what… what am I doing just standing here?
As I start wracking my brain for the most ideal way to break the tension of introductions, I'm interrupted by the presence of someone behind me. I spin on my heel to face the mysterious presence. A tall man, about a head taller than me, with vibrant red hair stands there with a bored expression on his face. He stares at me for a second, runs his head through his spiky hair, and yawns loudly. After scratching his neck, he points at me with the same bored expression painted across his face.
"So, you the new kid?" His extended finger moves forward and jabs me in the sternum. I stumble back slightly and my back rests lightly against the wall. He gives me a snort of derision and boredom, like he had just made a funny joke but didn't feel like explaining it. "Huh, looks like you're still alive. Good job."
What.
The implications of his action in response to what he just said instantly hits me. He knows about my condition, so he just poked me to see if I'd keel over? What the hell? Who the hell does this guy think he is? What would he have done if I did have another attack? Did he think this was all just a joke? I can't belie-
"You gonna move? I've kinda got a class to teach, unfortunately."
"Huh?" Some confused, unintelligible response leaves my lips as he reaches past me and twists the door handle. Without waiting for me to move, he simply pushes through me and opens the door – nearly knocking me over. I manage to evade him and end up slightly to the right of where this whole ordeal had started.
"Yo, guys. Sorry I'm late again." My brain begins to process the information that's being filtered in through the personal layers of confusion and disbelief. "Well, not really. But you know, class is starting – or whatever…"
He's my teacher?
Why the hell is he over forty minutes late to class?
"Hey, you gonna come in here or what?" My exasperated thoughts are cut off by my new teacher. "I mean, you can stay out there if you want. But, I figure you don't want to introductions by yourself…" My brain suddenly catches up to real life. I enter the classroom and look around, primarily so I don't meet the curious gazes of my new future classmates. It's pretty spacious; the ceiling is kind of high, and there's lots of space around and in between the desks. The entire left wall is covered with three giant windows, only making the room seem larger. The actual desks are just the standard wooden and metal desks you see everywhere. Some company that mass produces these must make a fortune. I stop walking once I get to the front of the room and face the other students. From what I can tell, they all look normal. The most distinguishing figure in this assortment of kids seems to be there hair color. I see a few blondes and brunettes scattered about, but we're all wearing the same uniform.
"So, you gonna stare into space or tell us your name?" The red-headed teacher asks me with a bored, apathetic voice. I snap out of my observational trance and focus my gaze on the center of the room.
"Um, my name's Roxas." I scratch the back of my head nervously, before simply shrugging. "What else am I supposed to say?" It was an honest question, but my new fellow classmates thought it was a joke and laughed.
"Sure, that's fine… I guess. Sit wherever you want." He waves his hand in some vague direction. Making sure I don't trip or bump into someone, I make my way to the very back of the room. Most of the students have occupied the front and middle seats, so there only a few free spaces are in the back. I can't help but think that this is pretty strange. At my old school, you were lucky to get a space in the back. Different strokes for different people I assume. There's only one person in the very back row – a girl opted to take the window seat. I gave her a silent compliment on her excellent choice of seating.
There entire row to her right is open, leaving me conflicted. Do I take the seat next to her to be friendly, or do I take I put a seat between us for personal space and run the gambit of offending her?
The thought that I'm overcomplicating things passes through my mind. Of course I am, I really shouldn't be – it's a bad habit of mine. I plop my backpack onto the table as quietly as I can. Sitting down, I realize how massive this school is. In this room alone, there are probably about thirty or forty students. During my adventure through the school campus, I passed by at least a dozen rooms where the clamor of students and teachers alike could be heard through the thin walls. I'm used to smaller, more amenable surroundings since my old school was relatively small. Here, I'm in a literal cesspool of people with differing personalities, cliques, and activities. I've been thrown into this place with no prior knowledge and left to fend for myself.
I clench my teeth in an attempt to get rid of the pent-up frustration that I've inevitably accumulated due to my whole situation. I lean back into my chair, taking a more reclined position in preparation for the long school day. Absentmindedly, I look to my left at my new seatmate. Her blonde hair seems to cascade down her petite figure, stopping at around her mid back. She doesn't have bangs, per se, but a few waves of hair that hand down her forehead and stop at a pair of blue eyes staring back at mine.
Just as I realize she's looking at me, she averts her gaze quickly and returns to staring intently at the desk. It happens so quickly that I keep staring at her to see if I'm not just imagining things. Sure enough, every few seconds, she quickly darts her eyes in my direction before gluing them back to her empty desk. After about a minute of this, she reaches into her backpack and pulls out a book. Not a textbook, mind you, a novel. She looks like she's reading it, but I can tell by her eyes that she's barely skimming the words. Despite having a book, she keeps up her previous subtle motions, leaving me wondering if I've done something to worry or offend her.
Maybe I should stop staring at her? I don't even know why I'm doing so to begin with. It's probably unsettling to have a total stranger stare at you. I should definitely stop staring at her.
Why am I still staring at her?
I tear my eyes away from her and redirect them in the vague direction of my apathetic teacher. While I give off the pretense that I'm a diligent student, I'm really just mulling over inconsequential thoughts in my head.
Why was I staring at her? It's a question I ask myself, but one I'm finding difficult to answer. I don't know why, but for some reason I feel entranced by her presence. She just gives off this air of… mystery… or something. I can't really explain it.
I notice myself unconsciously taking peeks to my left at her. I rest my head on my desk and cover my face with my arms. I chalk up my strange transfixions to a mix of exhaustion and shock from having my life literally flipped upside down.
Suddenly, said exhaustion hits me like a ton of bricks dropped from the sky. I lose the motivation to pay attention to whatever the teacher is saying. After all, it can't be that important. With that reassuring thought in mind, I take a blissful nap.