Club life

“Here, here, Daniel-san!”

Daniel approached the club room where Aoi was waving him over enthusiastically. Ignoring her offer to sit next to her, he quietly took the seat across from her instead. Sakura followed close behind and sat beside him.

Aoi, resting her elbows on the table with both hands cupping her cheeks, grinned like a cat with a secret.

“Daniel-san, Daniel-san!”

“Yes?”

“Would you like anything to drink? We have coffee and tea!”

“Um… sure, coffee would be fine.”

Without missing a beat, Aoi leapt to her feet and grabbed Sakura by the arm, dragging her off like they were storming a battlefield. Daniel blinked, watching them go. She must be preparing coffee in another room, he thought.

Left alone in the clubroom, Daniel took a moment to look around—and immediately regretted it. The room was a disaster. Papers were scattered all over the floor and table, random potted plants were sitting in odd places, and there was no sign of organization anywhere. It looked more like a storage closet than a school club room.

By the time Aoi and Sakura returned, they found the mess gone. Papers were stacked in neat piles, the plants were lined up along the window sill by size and type, and Daniel was calmly brushing the edge of the desk with his handkerchief.

“Oh, thanks,” Aoi said, looking mildly impressed.

Daniel just gave a polite nod and returned to his seat.

Aoi strutted over to his side, carrying a paper cup of coffee with surprising grace. She set it in front of him without spilling a drop. Sakura followed behind and sat down next to Daniel.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Aoi’s entire demeanor shifted. As Daniel lifted his coffee, she turned her back to him, took a few dramatic steps forward, and clasped her hands behind her back like a cartoon villain about to deliver a monologue.

“Air pollution! Waste! Climate change! These plague not only Japan—but the world!”

Before anyone could respond, she whipped around, stomped her foot onto the table with all the flair of a stage actor, and accidentally sent Daniel’s coffee cup tumbling off the edge.

“Together, we three will save Japan!”

“…We?” Daniel said flatly, looking at the coffee dripping off the edge of the desk.

He stared at her—expressionless, unimpressed—as Aoi glared heroically at the ceiling, entirely lost in her fantasy. He glanced at Sakura beside him, who had silently returned to biting her thumbnail.

Daniel exhaled slowly. I knew she was weird, but… she’s really weird.

After regaining her composure, Aoi clapped her hands together and smiled brightly.

“Alright! Time for our first activity as a team!”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, already exhausted by her energy. “Wait, what?”

“The recycling bins at school are a disaster,” Aoi explained, now speaking with the gravitas of someone announcing a national crisis. “They’re messy, mislabeled, and mixed with trash. So! I’m assigning you two the honor of fixing it.”

Daniel’s head tilted to the side, his expression unreadable. “I don’t remember agreeing to any of this. I just came to see why I signed up.”

He crossed his arms, unimpressed.

Aoi, who had been posturing like a shōnen villain five minutes ago, suddenly sat upright. Her demeanor shifted into something refined and aristocratic. She smoothed her skirt and folded her hands, looking every bit the lady of the house.

Daniel glanced to the side—Sakura was mimicking Aoi perfectly, her chin tilted up, lips pressed together, and avoiding eye contact as if she’d rehearsed this pose her whole life.

Aoi’s lips curled into a smug grin. “Fufufu. What is this nonsense you speak of? You drank the coffee I gave you, did you not? That was basically a contract. To break such a bond would be… incredibly shallow.”

Daniel’s brow furrowed. “I only took a sip before you knocked it over...”

He paused. Aoi and Sakura sat there, both posing like noblewomen from some historical drama.

“You guys rehearsed this bit before I got here, didn’t you?”

The school’s recycling area was located behind the gymnasium, near the maintenance shed. Daniel and Sakura made their way there, carrying gloves, labels, and a bucket Aoi had shoved into Daniel’s arms before dramatically declaring she had “important matters of securing the club’s future” and vanishing down the hallway.

Daniel was too mentally fried to protest.

As they walked, he tried to reflect on the day—his first full day in a Japanese classroom, meeting his eccentric homeroom teacher, and the constant rhythm of a language he was still learning. He’d been surprisingly confident during class, but now, in the quiet walk between buildings, he felt the weight of all the changes.

Unfortunately, his thoughts were cut short by Sakura, who began speaking out loud in a steady stream of facts and details.

“In Japan, recycling is very strict. PET bottles, cans, and burnables are all separated. Each school has specific days where sanitation workers collect certain types. If we mess up the order, the whole load might be rejected. That’s why each bin has to be clearly labeled and maintained. We also separate by cap and label—most people forget that part. And—”

Daniel blinked. He’d caught the first sentence, but the rest blurred into background noise.

Sakura wasn’t even talking to him directly—just out loud, like she was narrating a textbook to herself. He admired how much she knew… and also wondered if her brain ever had an off-switch.

When they arrived behind the gymnasium, Daniel looked at the row of grimy bins lined against a concrete wall. There were labels in Japanese—some faded, others partially torn off—and stray bags poking out where students had clearly given up sorting anything. It was chaos.

To his surprise, Japan’s recycling system was way stricter than what he was used to back home in L.A. Plastic bottles had to be separated from their caps and labels, food waste needed to be rinsed, and each bin had a very specific purpose. Thankfully, Sakura was patient and guided him through it, even drawing little diagrams on a scrap piece of paper to show how everything should be organized.

As they worked, Daniel felt a question bubbling up in his mind.

“Hey, Sakura.”

She didn’t reply right away, but she tilted her head slightly—still focused on sorting—as if signaling that she was listening.

Daniel continued. “Why exactly does Aoi want me in this club?”

Sakura paused, placing a hand thoughtfully on her temple as if rolling the question around inside her head.

“Well… aside from needing a third member, she’s talked about you a lot. Ever since she met you a few days ago, she’s brought you up almost every time we’ve talked.”

She returned to sorting without much fanfare.

“Aoi’s pretty easy to read. And while I can’t pinpoint the exact reason for her fascination with you… I think she likes strange people.”

Daniel didn’t respond, but he gave a small “mm” in acknowledgment. He continued organizing the plastic bottles, falling into a quiet rhythm.

This could just be a harmless way to pass time while I’m here…
Still, Aoi’s kind of a wild card. What if she ends up dragging me into something crazy and it messes up my plans to return home?

Eventually, they finished reorganizing the bins by wiping them down, relabeling each one with fresh tape and markers, and taping up a new recycling chart on the wall for students to follow. Satisfied, they packed up their tools and prepared to head out.

Just then, the school doors burst open.

“Tadaa~! Say hello to our club advisor!” Aoi announced dramatically, holding out both hands like she’d just revealed a magician’s assistant.

Walking beside her was a woman not much taller than Aoi, probably in her late twenties. She had short black hair tucked neatly behind her ears, thin glasses, and a pearl necklace that contrasted sharply with her otherwise simple outfit.

“Hello,” she said with a polite smile. “I’m Ms. Suzumi. I teach English here. I’m… happy to help.”

Daniel blinked. That pause was suspicious.

Despite her pleasant tone, her eyes looked exhausted—like she’d agreed to this under duress and already regretted it. Still, she was helpful, taking a look at their sorting setup and suggesting they add a laminated instruction sheet to make the process easier for students to follow.

Daniel appreciated the input, even if she didn’t seem thrilled to be there.

Later that Evening

Daniel returned home around 6:45 p.m. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow through the windows. His father was still at work, so Daniel decided to make dinner. His go-to comfort food lately had been yakisoba stir fry—it was simple, flavorful, and reminded him of the street food vendors he’d passed near Yokohama Station.

He made enough for two, figuring his dad would be hungry when he got home.

As he sat down alone with a plate, the steam rising and the quiet hum of the fridge the only sound in the room, he felt… peaceful. Strangely so. After the chaos of school, class, and the club meeting, the silence felt like a reward.

It was kind of a weird day… but not bad. Maybe I needed something weird.

Knock. Knock.

Daniel froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

He glanced at the clock—7:03 p.m.

His dad had a key. So who could be knocking at this hour?

He stepped quietly toward the door and peeked through the peephole. All he could see was a blur of pink, fluffy hair.