"I heard he's always got some sketchy stuff in his bag…"
"So that's him? The one with the record?"
"Drinking, smoking, theft… sounds like he's done it all."
"Is that new kid involved in some shady stuff, right?"
"Assault, seriously? He's trouble, no doubt."
As he approached the faculty office, Akira felt the weight of the students' stares. The murmurs of his peers trailed behind him like a shadow, their words slicing through the air like unseen blades. He ignored the prickling sensation on his neck, steeling himself for the impending conversation about his leaked records.
Upon entering the office, the atmosphere hung thick with tension, suffocating and oppressive. Kawakami and Makoto stood conversing at her desk, their voice low but their gaze piercing as they fixed their eyes on Akira. Kawakami's brows furrowed in concern while Makoto's eyes flickered with apprehension.
"Well, well, this is a surprise. I was certain you would be a no-show today. Come, have a seat. We have much to discuss in a short time," Kawakami said briskly but not unkindly, gesturing for Akira to sit. The chair felt more like a hot seat, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him with each step he took toward it. Reluctantly, he complied, his heart pounding in his chest like a caged bird desperate for escape.
"I'm sure you've already heard," Kawakami began, her voice tight with restraint, "but your records leaked sometime last night."
"How is this possible?" Akira's voice rose, the frightened evident in his tone as he shot up from the chair. "I thought only the faculty had access to my records. How did this happen?" His palms pressed against the desk, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip as he struggled to regain control of his breathing, the world spinning around him in a dizzying whirl.
Makoto's hand moved to rest gently on Akira's shoulder, a gesture of comfort that he recoiled from, his eyes flashing with fear and defiance. "Maybe you should sit down, Kurusu-kun," she suggested softly, her voice a calming contrast to the turmoil swirling within him. "Do you want me to bring you some water?"
"Don't touch me!" Akira's words were sharp, a defensive barrier rising between him and the well-meaning gesture as his body tensed with the weight of his own emotions.
Kawakami glanced at her disapproving colleagues before settling back on Akira with a grim determination. "Kurusu-san, I understand you're upset right now," she said firmly, her voice a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions, "but I need you to calm down and have a seat."
As Akira gradually composed himself, Kawakami continued, her words measured and deliberate. "To answer your question, we don't know how your records leaked," she admitted, her tone tinged with frustration at the inexplicable security breach. "The culprit anonymously posted your records on the school's forum, making it impossible to trace."
Makoto interjected, her voice a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. "Kurusu-kun, I know this unfortunate situation is stressful for you," she offered gently, her eyes filled with empathy, "but things will improve. To help change how people perceive you as more than just a delinquent, we should consider Principal Kobayakawa's proposal for me to assist you after school."
Acknowledging that he had no choice, Akira's lips tightened into a reluctant nod, a silent acceptance of his fate. Kawakami's watch glinted under the fluorescent lights, a subtle reminder of the passing time. "Homeroom is about to begin. Niijima-san, why don't you go to class, and I'll take Kurusu-san to his," she suggested with a brisk efficiency that brooked no argument. She turned to Akira, her gaze stern, and delivered her instructions like a judge passing a sentence. "You'll need to introduce yourself to the class."
With purposeful strides, she led the way to the classroom door, her footsteps echoing through the corridor. As they navigated the bustling hallway, a cacophony of hurried footsteps and excited chatter enveloped them. Students brushed a past in a motion blur, each absorbed in their own world of schedules and social circles. Kawakami's hand reached for the door handle, and with a decisive push, she ushered Akira into the classroom.
The sudden intrusion shattered the room's peace like a stone through glass. Heads turned, whispers fizzling into uneasy silence as all eyes fell upon the new arrival. Some faces twisted with apprehension, others with barely concealed hostility. Akira stood at the threshold, a lone figure amidst scrutinizing gazes.
Kawakami's voice, sharp and authoritative, sliced through the tension. "Everyone, quiet down," she commanded, her words a demand rather than a request. Yet, the room resisted, murmurs rising in defiance before her stern glare quelled them into submission. "I said quiet down!" This time, her voice brooked no argument, and the students reluctantly complied, the hush settling like a heavy blanket.
"Now, I assume you've all heard about the new transfer student, Akira Kurusu, and his situation," Kawakami continued, her tone carrying a weight of authority. "You may not like that he's in your class, but I want everyone to treat him respectfully." Her gaze shifted to Akira, a silent prompt for him to take the stage.
Stepping forward, Akira plastered a smile onto his face, though it felt brittle and forced. His heart hammered against his ribs, a drumbeat of nerves threatening to drown out his words. Perhaps his classmates wouldn't see the fear lurking beneath the surface if he smiled. They may overlook his tarnished reputation and see him as just another student.
But the classroom's response shattered that fragile hope like glass. Eyes bored into him, assessing and dissecting, their silent judgment a weight upon his shoulders. Akira swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find his voice amidst the suffocating atmosphere.
With a deep breath, he forced the words past his lips, each syllable a struggle against the oppressive silence. "My name is Akira Kurusu. I hope we can be friends." His voice wavered, the hope in his words falling flat against the wall of skepticism that surrounded him.
"Be friends with that guy? No, thanks," a voice sneered from the back of the room, dripping with disdain.
"I heard he's with the Yakuza," another whispered, the words spreading like wildfire through the room.
Akira's smile faltered, his gaze dropping to the floor as he retreated. He reminded himself that he didn't care, that their opinions meant nothing. But the truth lingered, a bitter taste in his mouth. In typical circumstances, Akira would be okay with being the center of attention. Yet, amidst the scrutinizing stares and whispered accusations, he felt like a stranger in his own skin.
"Kurusu-san," Kawakami's voice cut through the murmurs, redirecting Akira's attention. She gestured to an empty desk behind a blond girl, the one he had met under the awning. "You're going to sit behind Takamaki-san. Takamaki-san, please raise your hand."
Ann reluctantly complied, her hand hovering in the air momentarily before she lowered it with evident reluctance. Akira approached, his steps hesitant, and took his seat behind her. As he settled into place, a faint smile played at his lips, a silent gratitude for her small act of kindness.
"Oh, and Takamaki-san," Kawakami added, her voice cutting through the uneasy silence, "could you share your textbooks with Kurusu-san today?"
Ann placed her Japanese literature book on Akira's desk, a simple gesture of civility marred by the weight of unspoken judgment. Her earlier kindness had vanished, replaced by a palpable chill that hung between them like a shroud.
The whispers resumed a chorus of speculation and gossip surrounding Akira like a swarm of bees. Each word stung, a reminder of the barriers that separated him from his classmates. Yet, he remained silent, his gaze fixed on his desk as the classroom buzzed with speculation and suspicion.
###
Akira's first day at school unfolded as a series of uncomfortable moments. Kawakami's demeanor, the only semblance of warmth he encountered, starkly contrasted with the other teachers' frostiness. Ushimaru, the stern-faced instructor he had glimpsed in the hallway, aimed mainly at Akira during Social Studies. He had a knack for singling Akira out, his gaze like a spotlight in the dim classroom, constantly forcing him to answer questions, even when other students eagerly raised their hands. Whenever Akira stumbled over an answer, Ushimaru's lips would curl into a sneer, his comments dripping with disdain.
By the time lunch arrived, Akira felt drained, the weight of his classmates' stares and whispered rumors bearing down on him like an invisible burden. The classroom emptied swiftly, leaving only a handful of stragglers behind. Akira welcomed the quiet, glad for the reprieve from prying eyes. Realizing he hadn't brought lunch from him, he decided to make a quick stop at the school store for a snack.
As he rose from his seat, Ann Takamaki approached the door, catching Akira's attention. He called out to her, prompting a shift in her expression from surprise to annoyance. He grabbed the Biology textbook and approached her with a hesitant smile. "I'm sorry that you have to lend me your textbooks. I planned to buy the books myself before the weekend."
Ann's response was curt, and her silence speaks volumes. Without a word, she snatched her book and hurried away, leaving Akira to wrestle with his thoughts. Part of him wanted to chase after her, to confront her about her abruptness, but instead, he shouldered his bag and left the classroom, ignoring the lingering stares and hushed whispers that followed him like shadows.
Plugging in his earphones, he turned up the volume to drown out the noise as he went downstairs. At the school store, only one turkey sandwich remained. As he reached for it, another hand darted in from the side. Startled, Akira looked up to find Ryuji Sakamoto beside him, equally surprised by their chance encounter.
"Oh, it's you!" Ryuji exclaimed. "I was wonderin' when I was gonna see you again."
Akira chuckled softly. "Well, here I am."
There was an awkward pause between them until Ryuji let go of the sandwich. "Here, you can have this. Consider it your 'Welcome to Shujin Academy' gift."
Akira couldn't help but smile. "Who would have thought a sandwich would be more welcoming than my classmates."
Ryuji's grin faltered as he caught the weariness in Akira's eyes. "Man, you had it rough," he mumbled, his tone sympathetic. "Hey, I'm sure you don't want to eat in the cafeteria with everyone watching you, so how about we go to the roof?"
"Are we allowed to go up there?" Akira hesitated, mindful of his promise to keep a low profile, but the prospect of escaping the prying eyes of his peers was tempting.
Ryuji shrugged. "We're allowed to do it if they don't catch us. C'mon." After Akira paid for the food, he followed Ryuji to the third floor, where a sign barring entry to the rooftop hung ominously. Ignoring it, Ryuji pushed open the door, ushering Akira into their makeshift sanctuary.
"Welcome to my haven away from the assholes." Ryuji declared, settling into a seat and motioning for Akira to join him.
As they sat in companionable silence, Akira couldn't shake his gratitude towards Ryuji for extending this small act of kindness. Breaking the silence, Akira broke the sandwich in half and offered a piece to Ryuji, who was taken aback. "Here, it doesn't sit right with me that I'm eating and you're not, so take it."
"Uh, thanks, man," Ryuji mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich, shooting furtive glances at Akira from the corner of his eye.
Akira sighed, sensing Ryuji's curiosity lingering like a palpable weight in the air. "If you want to talk about the elephant in the room… then go ahead."
Ryuji ran a hand through his bleach-blonde hair, his frustration evident. "People were talkin' about you, so I got curious, alright. And people are sayin' crazy shit about you online."
"Kawakami-sensei told me that someone anonymously leaked my record to the school's forum," Akira responded. "The school can't do anything if they don't know who did it."
Ryuji scoffed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I bet the teachers and Principal Kobayakawa know who's responsible but is protectin' them."
"Who?" Akira inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Kamoshida," Ryuji spat out. "He's such a dick. If he dislikes you, then he will ensure your life is miserable. The guy thinks he can run this school and everyone in it."
"Would a teacher do that?"
Ryuji shrugged, his expression grim. "You don't have to take my word for it, but I bet he's the reason."
Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. "Damn, time went by fast," Ryuji commented dryly. "Anyways, you and I have much more in common than I thought. If I want to talk to you again, I'll keep in touch, so don't ignore me, alright?"
"Okay," Akira agreed reluctantly. As they gathered their belongings and left the rooftop, Akira couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in Ryuji, he had found the ally he desperately needed in this unfamiliar environment.
###
A palpable sense of relief filled the classroom when the final bell chimed, releasing the students from their desks like uncaged birds. Kawakami's reminder about tomorrow's reading assignment and the ominous possibility of a pop quiz elicited groans and hurried movements toward the exit. Akira was caught in the current of departing students until his teacher's voice halted him.
"Kurusu-san, can you stay for a minute? I need to talk to you about something," Kawakami called out, her tone tinged with a hint of concern.
Curious but complaint, Akira retraced his steps to where his homeroom teacher stood waiting.
"I know this has been a rough first day of school for you," Kawakami began, her expression softening with empathy, "I understand you want to make friends, but Ryuji Sakamoto isn't the one. He's a troublemaker, and you must stay away from him."
Akira nodded, though a flicker of confusion danced in his eyes. "Thanks for the warning, Kawakami-sensei, but I should get going,"
As he exited, thoughts swirled in Akira's mind, puzzling over Kawamaki's cautionary words. Since that morning, Ryuji had been a rare beacon of understanding and acceptance amidst a sea of judgment. "I can see why Sakamoto said we have more in common," he mused silently, reflecting on their outsider status.
"Oh, right. I almost forgot about Niijima-san. Tell her I wanted to talk to you if she's wondering why you're late." Kawakami called after him.
Bowing respectfully, Akira bid his teacher farewell. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kawakami-sensei."
As the door clicked behind Akira, Kawakami switched off the classroom lights and closed the door with a heavy sigh. The buzz of conversation among the teachers enveloped her like a familiar blanket in the dimly lit faculty room.
"How will he pass midterm and final if he can't answer a simple question?" Ushimura's frustrated voice pierced the air, drawing Kawakami's attention.
Kawakami sank into her chair with a weary sigh, her exhaustion evident to those who cared to notice. Inui, the History teacher, offered a sympathetic glance her way. "Kawakami-san, how are you holding up over there? You seem exhausted. Is the transfer student giving you trouble?"
Chouno interjected before Kawakami could respond, her tone dismissive. "She looked like that before Kurusu showed up."
Suppressing a roll of her eyes, Kawakami finally spoke up. "No, Kurusu isn't giving me trouble. It's the other students that are giving me a headache. I have to scold when I hear them whispering about him."
Usami, busy grading papers, glanced up with a friendly smile. "Some of us are going out to get drinks later. You should come and relax."
Before Kawakami could consider the invitation, her phone vibrated in her pocket, signaling a message from her second job. With a resigned sigh, she retrieved her phone and read the urgent request for her assistance.
"I'd love to, but I can't. I'm sorry," Kawakami replied.
Usami offered a supportive nod. "Well, maybe next time, then."
###
Akira ascended the stairs to the third floor and pushed open the library door, stepping into a tranquil world of books and whispers. All around him, students paused their activities to cast curious glances his way. Murmurs rose like a tide, swirling around him as he approached Makoto's table.
"You're late," Makoto greeted him curtly, her tone laced with impatience. "Please, have a seat."
As Akira settled in opposite her, the whispers reached a crescendo, a cacophony of speculation and judgment.
"Is that the transfer student?"
"Why is he here with Niijima-senpai?"
"Please tell me he's not going to be in here."
"The president will do anything for a recommendation letter."
"What if he has some kind of mental breakdown and attacks us?"
Makoto slammed her palms on the table, the sharp sound slicing through the chatter like a knife. "Quiet!" she commanded. The library fell into an uneasy silence, every eye fixed on the authoritative figure at the table. "This is a library for reading and studying, not for idle gossip. If you want to talk, there's the door. Please do not distract those who want to study."
With her reprimand delivered, Makoto returned to Akira; her expression softened with an apology. "I'm sorry about that."
"It's fine," Akira muttered, feeling the weight of the room's gaze upon him as he retrieved his notebooks and pencil. "Uh… I haven't purchased any textbooks yet, so –"
"The teachers have notified me, so they kindly let me borrow the textbooks," Makoto explained, retrieving the Calculus and Japanese Literature books. "Kawakami-sensei and Usami-sensei told me the assignments are due tomorrow. Let's start with Calculus, which seems to be your weakest subject."
Akira's surprise was palpable. "H-how did you know that?"
Makoto hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering with remorse. "When Kawakami-sensei and Principal Kobayakawa assigned me to look after you, they showed me your past report cards from your previous school. I was surprised to see that you were an honored student."
"Why?" Akira's voice rose, drawing the attention of nearby students. "What's so surprising about me being an honor student and having a criminal record?"
Makoto winced inwardly, realizing her misstep too late. "Don't take this the wrong way, but with the assault and the arrest, it's hard to picture an honor student behaving that way. Honestly, I've never witnessed or heard such an idiotic thing. You were on the school's baseball team, yet you ruined your entire life for what? Some diligent students at Shujin Academy fit your criteria, yet you managed to befriend Ryuji Sakamoto, a troublemaker, on your first day here. Don't you know how privileged you are to start over?"
Akira's jaw clenched, his frustration mounting with each word. "Who are you to tell me how privileged I am?"
Makoto recoiled slightly, taken aback by his sudden hostility. "Excuse me?"
Their confrontation had drawn the attention of the entire library, but Akira seemed oblivious to the eyes upon them as he continued, his voice low and seething with anger. "Something tells me that you read my information online, just like everyone else, and believed it. Why would the student council president 'look after' a delinquent like me?" he challenged, his words dripping with bitterness. "There are people just like you at my school. They would do anything the adults tell them to get a recommendation letter."
Akira gathered his belongings and stormed out of the library, leaving Makoto alone amidst the whispers and stares.
A part of Makoto wanted to go after him, to apologize for her misjudgment, but she found herself rooted in her seat, overwhelmed by regret and shame. Instead, she buried herself in her homework, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as the library slowly returned to its usual hum of activity.
"Did you see that?"
"I thought for sure he was going to attack Niijima-senpai."
"Told you he was a psychopath."
"Should someone check on Niijima-senpai?"
###
Akira stormed down the stairwell, his footsteps echoing in the hallways as he left the confines of Shujin's campus. Niijima had disappointed him. He had hoped she would be different, like Sakamoto, but instead, she had judged him just like everyone else. How dare she assume he wanted to throw his life away? He clenched his fists, feeling the anger simmering beneath his skin.
But he quickly admonished himself. "Cam down, Akira," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I need to stay at this damn school for a year. Just wake up, go to school, repeat, and this year will go by quickly." He glanced up at the sky, noticing the colors of the sunset. "I should hurry and return to Leblanc before Sakura-san complains about not closing on time."
As Aoyama-Itchome Station came into view, Akira quickened his pace. But before he could reach the train, a firm grip seized his shoulder, spinning him around and slamming him against the unforgiving concrete wall. He grunted at the impact, his heart racing as he was surrounded by three imposing third-year students in volleyball uniforms. Panic surged through Akira. Were they going to beat him up? Memories of his father's violence on the night of his release from juvie flooded his mind.
"He doesn't look like a criminal. Looks more like a pussy to me," one of them sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.
Another boy grabbed Akira's hair, wrenching his head upward. "You've caused some problems, buddy," he growled, delivering a punishing blow to Akira's abdomen. The pain radiated through his body, causing him to double over.
The assault continued, relentless and brutal, as Akira felt himself being kicked and punched from all sides. Every blow fueled his rage, but he knew he couldn't fight back. If he did, the consequences would be dire. They would go to the police, claiming he had initiated the fight, resulting in his expulsion from Shujin and eviction from Leblanc. He would have nowhere to go. So, he endured the onslaught, his body battered and bloodied, as he lay defenseless on the grimy ground.
"Tanaka-san! Yamamoto-san! Kojima-san! What do you three think you're doing?!" came a sharp voice, cutting through the haze of pain and fear.
###
The students calmed down after Akira left the library, but they still sneaked glances at the student council president. Makoto didn't pay much attention to the stares as she tried to distract herself with homework. On her fifth attempt at solving a math equation, she began chewing on her pencil, an old habit she had picked up after her dad's death. Chewing helped her shake off the guilty feeling resting in her gut.
She couldn't shake the image of Akira's wounded expression, the pain etched into every line on his face. As the whispers of her peers swirled around her, Makoto's inner turmoil intensified. Was she right to confront Akira in such a manner? Had she only succeeded in pushing him further away, reinforcing the walls he had erected around himself?
Makoto, lost in thought, didn't notice the library student worker approaching her. "Niijima-senpai, are you alright?"
She jumped slightly at the new presence. "Oh, I'm fine, thank you. I'm sorry for causing a disturbance. It won't happen again." Makoto swiftly gathered her school supplies and placed them in her bag. She thought that if she left now, she could catch Akira before he got on the train. Giving him a proper apology was the only way she could fix this mess.
"You have nothing to apologize for," the student worker said. "We all knew the transfer student would eventually attack another student, but I never thought it would be you, Niijima-senpai. I'll report this to the principal and ban him from the library. He should be expelled," she muttered the last part.
"You will do no such thing," Makoto ordered, narrowing her eyes. "Kurusu-san didn't attack me. I'm the one who provoked him. As Student Council President, it's my job to make every student, regardless of background, feel welcome at Shujin." Her shoulders slumped. "And I failed."
Makoto didn't wait for the girl to say anything; she made a beeline to the door. She went through Shujin's gates, waved goodbye to some students, and headed towards the train station. Soon, Makoto noticed a small group of students gathered near an alleyway. She squinted to see their uniforms and saw that they were Shujin students: one wearing a winter uniform and three in volleyball uniforms.
As Makoto approached, she flinched when one of the athletes punched the student in the typical school uniform and knocked him to the pavement. Another athlete joined in, kicking the unfortunate student. What do they think they're doing?! She thought. The jersey numbers on the volleyball players came into view as she stopped behind them. Yamamoto, Tanaka, and Kojima were third-years who weren't the brightest but were guaranteed scholarships due to their volleyball skills.
Makoto's blood boiled as she unconsciously gripped her bag strap. "Tanaka-san! Yamamoto-san! Kojima-san! What on earth do you think you're doing?!" The three boys turned toward her, fear in their eyes. She shifted her gaze from the athletes to the injured student on the ground. "Kurusu-kun?" Makoto knelt beside him, analyzing Akira to see if he was conscious. The boy groaned and tilted his head towards her voice. She turned her head and stared menacingly at the three athletes. "Didn't you three hear me? I asked, what do you think you're doing picking a fight with Kurusu-kun?"
"We weren't the ones who started it," Kojima lied. "The transfer student pulled a knife at Tanaka. We were defending ourselves."
Makoto raised an eyebrow and then turned her attention to Tanaka, who appeared nervous. "Is Kojima-san telling the truth, Tanaka-san? Did Kurusu-kun pull a knife on you?" Tanaka didn't say a word. Makoto hummed. "That's what I thought. You three should be ashamed of yourselves for fighting with a schoolmate outside of school. Tomorrow morning, I will discuss what occurred to Principal Kobayakawa and Kamoshida-sensei. Now, go."
The boys gave Makoto and Akira nasty looks and returned to Shujin. "Kurusu-kun, can you hear me? It's Makoto," she said, checking on his injuries. She winced at the sight of his bloodied nose and a bruise forming under his left eye. "You're pretty hurt, Kurusu-kun. I'm calling the hospital." As she took out her phone to call the nearby hospital, Akira's hand shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist.
"No hospital," Akira managed to say.
"Kurusu-kun, you have a broken nose, and who knows what else. I have to make the phone call."
"No hospital," he repeated.
Makoto inwardly groaned. "Fine, if you don't want me to call the hospital, who should I call?"
"Sojiro Sakura," Akira weakly mumbled, taking his phone and handing it to Makoto. She scrolled through the phone until she found Sojiro Sakura's name. She placed the phone to her right ear and waited for the man to answer.
"Hello?"
"Good afternoon, Sakura-san. My name is Makoto Niijima, and I am the student council president at Shujin Academy. We met yesterday," she introduced herself.
"Student Council President?" Makoto heard Sojiro mumbling before saying, "Look, I'm still at my shop, and Akira hasn't returned yet. Is there any particular reason why you're calling me?"
Makoto rolled her eyes at the man's attitude. "Kurusu-kun has been in a fight and is badly injured," she explained. "I tried to call the hospital so they could bring an ambulance, but he insisted on not going. I thought it would be better to call you instead." She waited for Sakura's response but has yet to receive one. "Hello? Sakura-san, are you still there?"
"I'm on my way."