First came the entrance ceremony, then classes started, and the next thing I knew, I was one week into my new life at Yamaboshi High School.
It was the third Monday of April, and by now I’d learned which cars on the train were closest to the platform entrance and which were the quickest to fill up. Personally, I hated the feeling of being packed in tight like sardines, so I generally went for one of the less popular cars.
Then the train arrived at my stop. This was the closest stop for several different schools, so almost everyone who deboarded here was wearing a uniform — many of which, unsurprisingly, matched my own. But I didn’t see anyone I recognized. This came as both a disappointment and a relief.
I waited until everyone else had rushed out, then slowly deboarded the train and passed through the turnstiles in the direction of my school. After a long, relaxing weekend, I was ready for a fresh start. We were only a week in, so I hadn’t established any particular reputation yet, nor had any cliques fully formed in my class. And while there were a handful of people I recognized from middle school, we were essentially starting over from scratch. At this stage, I could make any number of adjustments.
As I walked silently among the crowd of students headed to school, I suddenly spotted two fellow classmates from 1-D a few meters ahead of me, chatting and laughing. I had no memory of ever speaking to them directly, but I definitely recognized their faces, and they would probably recognize me, too... And since we were classmates, I was probably within my rights to say good morning to them...
Wait, but what if they were having a personal conversation? I couldn’t just run up and insert myself. It’d be too awkward. If I interrupted, they’d have to act polite until I left. Was that really how I wanted to have my first-ever conversation with them? And even if they weren’t having a personal conversation, what if they thought I was rude and nosy?
Besides, we were practically at the front gates. There was no time to actually talk to them when the classroom was just a few more steps away. What if I just made things awkward? I should just ignore them—
Without warning, one of them looked over his shoulder for some reason. It was so sudden, I panicked and looked away.
I was just... looking at the branch on that tree, that’s all. It’s hanging so low, tall people might walk right into it, and that’s no good... That’s why I looked to my left just now. Not because I was trying to ignore him or anything. He probably doesn’t even think I was. Right? Yeah, totally. Don’t get the wrong idea, you guys.
To ensure it didn’t happen again, I concealed myself behind the students walking ahead of me as I followed the flow of the crowd through the front gates. Moments later, I heard a chorus of voices calling out:
“Join our club!”
Okay, technically it wasn’t a chorus, since they weren’t in sync or anything. It was just a bunch of different people yelling the same words — so loudly, I could hear them from all the way off campus, too. But the instant I crossed the threshold, it all overwhelmed me at once. By this point, it had become something of a daily ritual.
At Yamaboshi High School, all students were obligated to join a club. And due to the extremely lax screening process, there were a ton to choose from. Because of that, the clubs had to fight over the limited supply of new students each year, and recruitment was serious business. Some, like the sports teams, prided themselves on large rosters of skilled athletes, while others, like the more artsy clubs, were doing everything they could just to meet the minimum member requirement. As a result, every inch of campus was covered in people screaming “Join our club!” and handing out flyers.
People. Flyers. People. People. Flyers. Flyers. Flyers. People. It all blurred together and threatened to make me sick. The second they determined that you were a first-year, they swarmed you.
“Hey, have you picked a club yet?”
“You should come check us out anyway!”
“Do you have any plans after school?”
They snagged the student ahead of me, so I used him as a decoy to slip through the crowd as fast as I could. The first time I went through this, I was completely flustered, but after a week, I had adapted somewhat. I didn’t take any flyers. Instead I pressed forward, dodging the people trying to flag me down, with the air of a disaffected second-year and a firm look on my face that said I’ve got somewhere else to be.
Fortunately(?), I wasn’t that tall, and I wasn’t that athletic, and I wasn’t that good-looking, so I didn’t catch anyone’s eye. Compared to the students who were pigeonholed into volleyball or basketball due to their physique, I had it easy. I just avoided eye contact with the recruiters and kept on walking. These days it was practically a game to me; the more progress I made, the better I felt—
“J-J-Join our cluhhhwhaaa?!”
Squish.
Out of nowhere, something collided with my body. On reflex, I stopped short to counterbalance its weight. I could see someone’s scalp beneath my chin — poofy brown hair tickling my neck. She smelled sweet, like vanilla. Maybe it was her shampoo, or her body wash, or maybe it was just how girls naturally smelled. Her body was soft and faintly warm, like the perfect pillow... If only I could hug something like this at night, I’d probably get the best sleep of my life...
Wait... I’m... hugging... a girl...?
“Whoa there!”
I let out a weird yelp — even I wasn’t sure where it came from — and jumped backwards.
“Ow!”
Naturally, I slammed into the person behind me.
“Sorry! ...Oh.”
It was a guy in my class, standing next to yet another guy from my class. Apparently they had walked to school together.
“Ow. What was that about? You like to cuddle girls first thing in the morning?”
“Get ’em, tiger! And in public, too! Damn!”
They were teasing me and laughing, right in the middle of the crowd.
“No, no, no...”
“Is that your girlfriend? You like ’em a little older?”
I didn’t want to make a scene in front of a bunch of people I didn’t know.
“No! She’s not!”
“Dude, we know...”
“Alright, well, see you...”
Evidently I had denied it too strongly, because they both fixed me with dismal looks, then walked off.
As I watched them go, I cursed myself for not handling it better. I could’ve said “Man, that was crazy!” or played along and said “Yep! That’s my girlfriend! Jealous much?” Then it would have felt like a scene out of a teen movie.
“H-Hey, um, I’m really sorry! I tripped over something, and... well...”
Timidly, the girl from earlier bowed in apology. She was so small, and her behavior so cute and pathetic, she reminded me of a little woodland creature.
“The hell are you doing, Enjouji?”
Then a guy walked up, holding a stack of flyers. My guess was, he was in the same club as her.
“I just tripped, that’s all... I... I’m sorry!”
Then “Enjouji” bowed all over again.
“Freaking klutz.”
“I... I get it, okay?!”
They seemed like close friends.
“Anyway, um... I’m really sorry about that... Here, have a flyer.”
After all that, she had the nerve to offer me a flyer. Nevertheless, I took it from her without thinking. Written on it were the words:
CULTURAL RESEARCH CLUB - NOW RECRUITING!