My room is… underwhelming.

I get that it has all the basic necessities – a bed a desk and a wardrobe – but it's so aggressively impersonal that it feels uncomfortable.

Is this place really what I'm supposed to treat as home?

I drop my small bag – the only one I was toting around for the day – next to the rest of my luggage, all neatly left inside the room.

Cracking open the wardrobe reveals freshly-pressed uniforms, to help me blend in perfectly with everyone else. I shrug on one of the uniform jackets and watch as my personality and style sink away somewhere green and neutrally-scented.

It's jarring, actually, how just the visual makes it feel like I'm becoming someone else entirely. If I put in contacts and did up my hair a bit, I wouldn't recognize the person in the mirror.
Maybe I should do that. It's easier to reinvent yourself if your look changes, right?

The ties are a neat detail; however, my old school didn't have those. And scratch the contacts idea, those are expensive and I'd have to touch my eyes and that makes my hair stand on end.

I send out texts to both my dad and the friends I've left behind, but already the gesture feels token… like I'm trying to hold onto a stream of water, running where it will.

I sit with the bitter sensation for a while. It feels appropriate, like mourning.

"…"

Alright, alright, enough of that.

Day one of your new life is done, Micchan… heh, Micchan. It's growing on me, provided I ignore the implied emasculation.

Misha and Shizune are an entertaining duo, though I feel like there's some backstory there that I would inevitably get involved in if I continue hanging out with them… which I kind of want to do.

I mean, they're cute girls, and they're clearly suffering whatever stigma is attached to the Student Council, as it seems they didn't really have their own clique, so I wouldn't have to take on too much at once…

Then again, there's Muira and the track team – I know some schools are aggressive about club recruitment, and I was told this isn't one of them, so she's likely not speaking for the club alone.

Does that mean she's making a move, or am I just reading into it too much?

I get that they don't see it as that big of a deal – it's just being helpful to the new kid, common decency so to say… but still, being involved like that from the start is nice.

I stifle a yawn, then consider whether it's too early to go catch a shower – presumably hot water isn't an issue, but I'd prefer my cold shower being a proverbial rather than literal one.

Ah well, best head out and see for myself.

The next day, the thin veneer of civility that serves as the preamble to Shizune and Misha asking for something manages to hold out all the way until the lunch break.
While I've been introduced to most of the class by this point, barring the shy girl who arrives to and leaves class early, and there are a few decent people; the aura of Hakamichi drives away all weaker challengers, however, so unless I'm making the effort to invite myself to someone's table, the assumption is that I'll be hanging with the Student Council.

"So, Micchan, we wanted to ask you a question."

Well, only Misha could literally ask me something. Is noting that ableist?
Is ableism even a thing where everyone makes a point of not bringing it up or giving other people grief over it?

"Shoot."
We claim an empty spot in the cafeteria. I go for the queue, but Shizune waves me off, signing something to Misha.
"Oh, first of all, Shicchan asks if getting you the best food in the cafeteria is alright?"

"Yeah, but I don't think…"

Too late, the reflex of nodding along with my affirmation gave Shizune all the consent she felt necessary.

"…that it's necessary to queue on my behalf."

Misha snickers.

"Being waited on by a pretty girl isn't that bad, is it?"

Not when it's part of some kind of power-game to get me to join their barebones Student Council.

"No, I guess I could get used to it… anyway, you were about to ask?"
Her eyes narrow for just a moment, before her expression relaxes.
"Right! But let's wait for Shicchan first."
I oblige, and soon enough, Shizune returns with a nicely presented egg and rice combo.

"Thanks for the food."

This 'best' Shizune mentions, ends up being a rather solid fried chicken sandwich of some kind. Apparently, there's an even more premier option in a veal bread of some sort, but that sells out almost immediately.

"You wanted to ask me something?"
A couple of nods:
"Yes! We wanted to know if you were considering taking Muira up on her invitation."

What's her gameplan here? I'm guessing Misha's ambivalent and acting as the mouthpiece, so it's really Shizune asking.

"Maybe. I don't mind running and it seems like a good way to meet new people."

It's really remarkable, when you think about it.

The sound we recognize as speech comes from mechanical restriction of airflow by the mouth and vocal cords – but with Shizune being unable to perceive that, the vocalization of a thought is instead converted to actual physical motions, which are then carried over by the medium of Misha's signing into a form she's then able to decode into something useful.

There's just so many failure points – would Shizune ever really be able to understand my intentions? Would I ever be able to understand hers?

"Well, we wanted to mention that there are openings in the student council – we'd be de-delighted to have you."

She fumbles the word for a second, but moves past it with grace – it's almost enough to keep me from showing my disappointment on my face.
"Ooh, that's not a nice face you're making, Micchan."
I take a breath:
"It's not that I'm against the idea… I just don't really have any idea what the Student Council does."

Shizune lights up when the question is relayed, and starts giving an animated set of signs – Misha starts translating before she's even done:
"We do many important things. We forward the feedback from the school's many classes that students are uncomfortable giving to staff, we organize and plan the layout of activities during school festivals, we handle some simple logistics for the school…"

I wave to cut them off:
"Yes, alright, I assumed that much. The question I should've asked is something along the lines of what being in the student council would entail?'"

More signing. If I'm going to keep hanging out with them, I really should put in the effort to learn at least some of it.

"We would hang out, play board games and do important work that will lay the foundation for our future capabilities as adult professionals in the fields of management and logistics."

Misha's cheeks puff up for a moment – I'm guessing she had to run it back in her head to figure out what exactly Shizune had her relay.

It's kinda cute how she just goes with it with full confidence in her friend – in her place, I'd always expect silly phrases being snuck in to get a chuckle at my expense.

That being said…

"I'm down for board games. Not so much the other stuff."

Shizune adjusts her glasses. She's very emotive with her expressions, conveying ideas and opinions with force of gesture alone.

"You don't want to join the Student Council, Micchan?"

"Not really, no."

Shizune makes a quick sign – Misha looks a bit surprised, but then translates:
"Is it because I reacted poorly to Muira identifying us as members?"

"It's because I'm super new to the school and don't want to commit to anything so soon."

"But Micchan, if we proactively reach out to you, and have been nothing but gracious as hosts and guides to this new environment, is it not logical to assume the Student Council is the most organic fit?"

"Maybe. But I still want to give everyone else the benefit of the doubt – it's unfair to assume that just because one thing is attractive, others are not. It's possible to contain more than one concept."

"So… does that mean that hanging out with us is not attractive?"

I roll my eyes. She's just trying to hustle me at this point.

"That's not what I said. In fact, I outright implied it was."

Misha looks to Shizune, then makes a sign, one unprompted by her bespectacled companion.

I look to our empty plates and notice that the occasional student is already standing up and making ready to return to class.

"Then a trial – come with us to play the ultimate strategic board game and get a taste of the everyday operations of the council!"
Well, I did introduce myself to the class as partial to board games.

"What game?"

"Risk!" she announces with renewed enthusiasm.

The name conjures up a memory. Winter months, more dry than usual. Throwing off my gloves and jacket and sliding underneath the kotatsu where the Risk board was already set up. Todo's miserable luck with dice and Jyushi's enthusiasm to stan South America even to his own detriment.

"Aces. You're on."

I love Risk.

It's harder to speak with a high-schooler's voice as an adult. I fully expect that he'll sound too self-aware and mature at some points.

This story is, after all, a love letter to that part of my writing journey and a final goodbye to the world of fanfiction writing.