Chapter 1: Another Boring Cycle

The blaring sound of my alarm clock shattered the silence of my room. My fingers fumbled for the button to silence it, and I groggily pushed myself up, trying to shake off the sleep that clung to my eyelids. The first thing I noticed was the dull, grayish light filtering through my half-closed curtains. The world outside was waking up, but I wasn’t.

Another day, another cycle.

I stretched, feeling the familiar tension in my back. The routine had become ingrained in me, like a second skin. My body moved automatically, doing the same things I had done every morning for months now. The same quiet house. The same breakfast. The same lonely thoughts.

I walked over to my closet, grabbed my school uniform, and slipped into it. The fabric felt familiar and comforting in its ordinariness. A quick look in the mirror, and I ran my fingers through my disheveled hair. I didn’t particularly care about how I looked. I was tall, around 179 cm, and had a face that might be considered handsome by some standards, but to me, it was just… there. It didn’t matter.

The reflection staring back at me looked tired, like someone who had seen the same boring day stretch endlessly before him. I didn’t recognize the excitement in the eyes of a teenager. I was only seventeen, but life felt like it had already passed me by.

I took a deep breath. Focus.

After a quick breakfast, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, making my way to the bike. The brisk morning air hit my face as I mounted it, the familiar feeling of the handlebars under my hands grounding me. My tires hummed against the pavement as I began the ride to school. The streets were quiet—like everything around me was still asleep, waiting for the day to begin.

I sighed as my legs pedaled rhythmically. I wasn’t sure when the monotony started, but it had been there for months now. Wake up. Eat. Go to school. Finish school. Go home. Study. Video games. Eat dinner. Sleep. Repeat. It was the same cycle over and over again. Nothing ever changed.

God, I wish my life could be more like an adventure…

I found myself thinking that again, the words slipping from my lips like a broken record. I had grown so tired of this life. I longed for something different, something more. A change that could break me out of the suffocating routine. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it was pointless to wish for something I couldn't have.

My mind drifted back to my childhood. Back then, life had felt so much more colorful, full of promise and wonder. I used to be happy. My mom was alive, and Dad… well, Dad was Dad. I used to look up to him with admiration, thinking he could do anything. But now, those memories were becoming harder to hold onto.

Mom...

Her face was a blur now, fading more and more as time passed. I could only remember the moments we had together—the warmth of her hug, the sound of her voice. She died when I was just two years old, too young to remember much, but old enough for her absence to leave a hole in my chest.

Ever since then, it had just been me and Dad.

I tried to push the sadness away as I continued to pedal. I was used to it now—the hollow feeling that crept up when I thought about her. It wasn’t like I could change anything.

But what I couldn’t escape was Dad’s struggle. The way he tried to hide the truth from me, acting like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. It was killing me. I could see it in his eyes—the exhaustion, the stress, the secret burden of his debt. It wasn’t just the bills that piled up on the kitchen counter that told me something was wrong. It was the way he smiled at me, like he was trying to convince both of us that everything was okay.

But it wasn’t.

It had been hard to watch him pretend for so long, but what could I do? I was just a kid. The only thing I could do was worried, and that only made things worse. And yet… I couldn’t stop myself. I knew that no matter what I did, I couldn’t make it better.

I clenched my jaw, forcing back the tears. One single tear had slipped down my cheek the night I first saw the full extent of the debt. I quickly wiped it away, pretending it hadn’t happened. It was just one tear, after all. Just one.

As I arrived at the school gates, I shook my head and forced a smile. I couldn’t let anyone see my pain. Not here. Not at school. Not when I had my friends.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. I walked towards the entrance, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, trying to push away the weight of the morning's thoughts. Life felt heavier these days, but school… school was just another part of the cycle.

The usual crowd had already gathered near the school entrance. I was always a bit later than everyone else. The same students filled the same spaces, chatting about whatever they were interested in that day. Their voices blended into the background hum, a sound that was oddly comforting in its predictability.

"Haruki!" I heard Daiki ’s voice over the chatter. I turned, and there he was, jogging towards me with his usual grin plastered across his face.

"Late as usual," he teased, though there was no malice behind it.

"Not really," I muttered, waving him off. I didn’t mind Daiki’s teasing. I never had, really. He was my childhood friend, after all. We’d known each other since we were little, so he could get away with more than anyone else.

Daiki had always been the sporty, active one between us. He was always jumping from one activity to the next, whether it was basketball, soccer, or whatever else caught his attention at the moment. He was athletic, and it showed. His short, messy brown hair and his tanned skin were a testament to the hours he spent outside, always looking for something to do.

"Seriously, man, you’ve gotta start showing up earlier," he said, his eyes twinkling with that same playful energy. "You’ll never survive this school year if you don’t get your act together."

I grinned back at him, though I wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about. Same boring cycle, same old Daiki.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll try to work on that,” I said. He gave me a thumbs up before walking off to join his usual spot with a group of classmates. Daiki was the type to make friends easily—he never stayed still for long.

It wasn’t long before I heard Kaito’s soft voice behind me. He wasn’t as loud or enthusiastic as Daiki, but I knew that he, too, was part of my inner circle.

“Morning,” he said, his voice barely more than a murmur. Kaito was always quiet, always observing the world more than participating in it. He was the kind of guy who would sit in the corner of the room, reading manga or analyzing an anime episode, offering deep insights when he felt like speaking.

Kaito had this air about him—one that made it hard for people to understand him, but once you got to know him, he had a sharp intellect that made him far more interesting than most. He had messy black hair that always looked like it needed a comb, and his glasses were slightly askew, like he’d never bothered to fix them. There was something endearing about that though, as if his disarray reflected how little he cared about appearances.

“Morning, Kaito,” I responded, offering a small smile. He gave a slight nod but didn’t say much else, which was typical of him. His face was partially hidden behind a book, the latest volume of some light novel series that he was obsessing over Mushoku Tensei. If you could get Kaito to open up, you’d hear a lot of fascinating theories about the world, but if you didn’t know him well, you’d just see him as a quiet, somewhat aloof guy.

But that’s why I liked him. He was insightful when you got him talking. He had a way of seeing things that most people missed.

“We should grab lunch later,” I said, more out of habit than anything else. It was something I did with him almost every day. Despite his quiet nature, Kaito was dependable—he always kept me company during lunch.

He glanced up from his book, his gaze momentarily meeting mine. “Yeah, sure,” he said, then returned to his novel without another word. There was no need for further explanation. With Kaito, silence was never uncomfortable. It was a language of its own.

I turned toward the school building, looking for my last friend. Natsumi.

She was leaning against the wall near the entrance, arms crossed, her eyes scanning the crowd. Her gaze locked onto mine almost immediately, and despite the casual stance, I knew better than to mistake her for anything less than confident. Natsumi had a presence about her.

She wasn’t just any girl at school. She stood out—her sharp features and no-nonsense attitude made her someone people noticed the second she walked into a room. She was more than just a pretty face. She was brash, bold, and she didn’t take anyone’s crap.

Natsumi had this energy about her that could light up—or burn down—a room depending on her mood. Her sharp, chestnut-colored hair fell just past her shoulders, and her bright eyes always seemed to carry a hint of mischief. But there was more to her than the bold, brash persona. Beneath it all, I knew there was something softer, something more vulnerable, something that I was starting to love

She looked at me for a moment, her lips curving into a small, teasing smile.

“Late again, Haruki?” Natsumi called, crossing her arms more tightly.

I shrugged, trying to make light of it. “Same as usual.”

“Lucky you,” she replied with a smirk. “No surprise there.”

Natsumi wasn’t like Daiki. She wasn’t the cheerful, always-happy type. She had an edge to her—sarcastic, quick-witted, and always the first to call someone out if they stepped out of line. She was fiercely independent, and that was something I admired about her. She didn’t let anyone walk all over her.

But she was also the one who, when the group was out, would give me an honest, no-filter opinion about anything. It was one of the reasons why I felt comfortable around her. She didn’t sugarcoat things, and that was a refreshing change compared to the usual pretenses that people put up at school.

“You’re such a guy, Haruki,” she continued with a roll of her eyes. “Do you ever try to change up the routine?”

“Not really,” I admitted with a half-smile. “Same boring cycle, you know?”

Natsumi chuckled lightly and shook her head. “You’re way too serious for your own good.”

“I’m not serious,” I protested, though deep down, I knew she was right. The constant thoughts about my father’s debts, my routine, my own lack of excitement—yeah, maybe I was serious, and maybe that was why I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

“Yeah, whatever. You should try to loosen up sometime, Haruki,” she said, poking me lightly in the chest. “You’re too uptight for your own good. I’ll help you with that, don’t worry.”

I didn’t say anything back. It was easier just to let her think what she wanted. Besides, she had her own charm—her tough exterior hiding a softer side that she didn’t often show. I didn’t have to say anything. Natsumi was Natsumi. She was part of the same cycle as me, even if she pretended otherwise.

“Well, are you coming or what?” Natsumi said, pushing me toward the school doors. “Let’s get to class before they lock the doors on us.”

I grinned and followed her inside

The bell rang again, signaling the start of the first class of the day. Students shuffled into the classroom, taking their seats and chatting amongst themselves as the teacher, Mr. Kuroda, shuffled through his papers at the front. The classroom was spacious, as was expected of a school like this—bright white walls, neat rows of desks, and windows that looked out into the well-kept schoolyard. It wasn’t my favorite place, but it was one of the few that felt familiar, even if every day felt the same.

I sat in my usual spot near the middle of the room, close enough to hear everyone but far enough away to keep some distance. My friends had scattered across the room—Kaito in the far corner by the windows, Daiki in the front, eager to engage with the teacher. Natsumi sat behind me, close enough that I could feel the faint weight of her gaze from time to time. Her quiet attention was typical of her—sharp, observant, and never missing a thing.

“Alright, class,” Mr. Kuroda said, his voice carrying over the murmurs. “Today, we’ll continue from where we left off last time. Everyone takes out your notebooks and get ready to work.”

His voice was one of those monotonous types that blended into the background for most students. Not me, though. I always listened. This school, despite how boring it had become recently, was still one of the best in the country.

I looked around the classroom for a moment, taking in the view. A good portion of my classmates came from families with wealth or influence. That was the thing about this school: it wasn’t just any normal institution. It was prestigious. The academic standards were high, and the competition was fierce. The pressure to succeed was constant, but I didn’t mind it much. It kept my mind active, and as much as I didn’t show it, I appreciated that. I wasn’t one for slacking off, and this school kept me sharp.

I rested my chin in my palm, staring at the blackboard as Mr. Kuroda continued to lecture on complex functions and their applications. As usual, my mind wandered back to my current situation—my father, the debts piling up, and how trapped I felt. But I quickly shook myself out of it. I had learned long ago that focusing on things I couldn’t change would only make me more miserable.

Instead, I decided to focus on the lesson. As much as I hated the constant repetition of my life, the classroom was one place where I didn’t have to think too much. Things came easy to me here.

Before long, the lesson ended, and the class took a brief break before the next period. I used this time to pull out my math test papers that had been handed back. As the students gathered their belongings or chatted amongst themselves, I turned the paper over to look at the grade.

The number was no surprise. I had practically breezed through the test. The questions had been straightforward, and the problems, though challenging to some, were simple to me. As always, I found myself wondering if the rest of the class ever had to struggle with these things. For me, math came naturally. The formulas, the equations—everything just clicked without much effort. I didn’t have to stay up late studying or cram last minute like others did. I could understand the material the first time it was explained.

I looked around at my classmates, some of them pouring over their own papers in disappointment, while others seemed satisfied with their scores. Daiki was talking animatedly with some friends in the front, unaware that the math paper was still open on his desk. Kaito, on the other hand, had barely looked at his test paper before returning to his book, as usual. He probably didn’t even care much for the grade; he was always more interested in ideas and theories than the rigid, structured tests that everyone else was so focused on.

My thoughts lingered on the test for a moment longer. I really do belong here, I thought. This school wasn’t just a place for the privileged and rich—it was a breeding ground for the brightest minds. The competition was cutthroat, but it had sharpened me over the years. It was a place where intellect was recognized and rewarded. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that while school was easy, life outside of it was anything but.

A shadow flickered across my desk. I looked up to see Mr. Kuroda standing by my side, looking down at my test paper. He had a small smile on his face, though it was more of a recognition of my consistency than praise.

“Another perfect score, Haruki?” he asked, voice tinged with a touch of approval.

I shrugged nonchalantly, though inside, I couldn’t help but feel a small swell of pride. “Just another test.”

Mr. Kuroda nodded. “Your performance is always impressive. Just don’t get too comfortable.” He winked before moving on to check the other students’ papers.

I knew he was just trying to motivate me, but it was the same line I’d heard a hundred times before. It was easy for me to brush off because I knew I wasn’t about to let it go to my head. Being here, in this elite school, was a constant reminder that while I had the brain for this, the real struggles in my life were outside the classroom.

The day passed in its usual monotonous rhythm. History class was long, as usual, filled with dry lectures about ancient civilizations. I could feel my eyelids growing heavy as the teacher droned on about some obscure battle from hundreds of years ago. I knew the material, of course, but that didn’t make it any less dull. I glanced at Natsumi behind me. She was scribbling something in her notebook, likely making notes about something unrelated to the class. That was another thing about her—she was sharp enough to multitask and still keep up with the lesson, even if she looked bored as hell doing it.

Next came science, which was more engaging, even though the subject didn’t exactly thrill me. I always had a soft spot for physic and chemistry, though my interest in them was academic more than anything else. I didn’t care much for the theories only the practical applications behind them. How did everything fit together? How did the world around me work in such a precise, ordered fashion? It was the kind of thing that fascinated me but didn’t give me any true sense of purpose in life.

Finally, the lunch bell rang, and I gathered my things, looking around for my friends. Daiki was already on his way to the cafeteria, probably joining his usual crowd. Natsumi was speaking with some of her classmates, and Kaito—of course—was absorbed in his book

"Let’s eat together later?" I called to Kaito.

He gave a lazy nod in acknowledgment, his gaze never leaving his book. “Sure, Haruki.”

I walked out of the classroom, the hum of the school day continuing around me. Another cycle. Another day. But as I passed the hallways and glanced around at the other students, something about the predictability of it all felt more suffocating than usual.

The lunch bell echoed through the school, signaling the start of a break. As I made my way down the hallway, a sudden wave of noise hit me. A group of students had gathered near the entrance to the hallway, muttering and pointing in hushed whispers. I could see a cluster of girls standing together in the middle, their arms crossed, and their heads turned toward someone.

From my position at the end of the hall, I could see that the newcomer had caused quite the stir. She was tall, with an air of confidence that immediately set her apart from the others. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, and she stood with an imposing presence, even though there were a dozen other students around her.

It didn’t take long to figure out who she was.

The moment she turned her head to the side, and I caught a glimpse of her sharp features and cold expression, it clicked: she was the new student, the one rumored to be the daughter of a CEO. I had heard some chatter about her earlier in the day, but I hadn’t expected her to make such an entrance.

Her appearance certainly didn’t go unnoticed. She was dressed immaculately in the school uniform, though there was something about her posture, the way she held herself, that screamed of wealth and status.

The group of girls surrounding her seemed to be giving her a hard time, their words sharp and accusatory. “You’re only here because your father has money,” one of them said, her voice thick with judgment. “You wouldn’t have gotten into this school otherwise.”

The new girl’s face tightened in response, her lips pressing together into a thin line. “I’m here because I passed the entrance exams, just like everyone else,” she shot back, her tone icy and measured. “My father didn’t buy my spot.”

Another girl laughed cynically. “Right. Sure, you aced your entrance exams, and then your daddy made sure you could waltz right in.”

The words stung her, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stood taller, her gaze unwavering as she stared the girls down. “I’m not going to argue with you,” she said, her voice surprisingly calm despite the clear tension. “I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

As the argument continued, I stood there, quietly observing the scene. I was never one for drama, but something about her defiance intrigued me. She didn’t care what these girls thought of her; she was confident and composed, not willing to lower herself to their petty level. I respected that.

Still, I couldn’t help but notice how... attractive she was. There was no denying it—her sharp, striking features, her tall frame, and the elegance with which she carried herself. She was pretty, there was no question about it. Her presence made the hall feel just a little bit more alive.

My gaze wandered, and in a moment of reflex, my eyes flicked down—just for a second—to her figure. She had an undeniable presence, her body perfectly in proportion with her height. But before I could dwell on it further, a sudden squeeze at my side snapped me out of my thoughts.

I turned my head and saw Natsumi standing next to me, her chest brushing against mine as she squeezed past to get a better look at the scene. The closeness was unintentional, no doubt, but I could feel the warmth of her body next to mine, and I couldn’t help but be aware of it.

For a fleeting moment, my mind wandered. The hallway was crowded, and Natsumi’s body had brushed against mine so naturally that I found myself imagining what it would be like if she wore something different—like, say, a bikini. I pushed the thought away almost immediately, chastising myself. It was an absurd idea, and I didn’t want to think about her like that.

Still, the thought lingered for a moment longer than it should have. Natsumi, despite her tough and straightforward personality, was someone who had always been there for me. I respected her deeply—more than I probably let on.

A soft chuckle slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“What?” Natsumi looked at me, her eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into her voice. “What’s so funny?”

I shook my head quickly, offering her a small smile. “Nothing. Just… thinking about how funny the situation is.”

She looked at me for a moment longer, as if she could sense something more behind my smile, but she didn’t press the matter. Instead, she turned her attention back to the argument.

Meanwhile, the new girl had begun to leave, her posture still regal as she pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the murmurs from the girls behind her. There was something impressive about the way she handled the situation, almost as if she was used to being targeted by people who didn’t understand her.

Still, despite my admiration for the new girl’s composure, I couldn’t help but feel a little strange about the whole thing. Something about her made me uneasy, and I couldn’t quite place my finger on it.

The lunch bell rang, signaling the end of the morning classes, and the four of us—Haruki, Natsumi, Kaito, and Daiki—headed for the cafeteria. It wasn’t a huge lunch break, but it was enough for us to unwind a bit and catch up on whatever was happening in our lives. As usual, we found a corner of the cafeteria to sit, our usual spot where we could talk without much interruption.

Natsumi immediately claimed the last of the tuna sandwiches on the table, giving a half-smile at Kaito’s complaining face. “Hey, you snooze, you lose,” she said with a wink. Kaito, ever the quiet one, just shrugged and took a bite of his own sandwich, as if it didn’t bother him too much.

I watched them interact with an amused smile. Kaito, the quiet introvert, was always so reserved, but there was a comfortable, easygoing nature between the group. Daiki, the energetic one, was already halfway through his meal and throwing in random comments about sports, as always.

“So, Haruki,” Daiki said, leaning back in his chair. “How was the math test this morning? Too easy, huh?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, it was easy. Honestly, I didn’t even have to try that hard. You guys probably did fine too, though.”

Natsumi gave me a sideways glance. “You’re such a show-off, Haruki,” she teased, though there was no real bite to her words. She knew I didn’t mean to brag; it was just that school came easily to me, and I couldn’t help but say it sometimes.

“Yeah, yeah, but I did well on the English test, too!” Kaito chimed in, somewhat shyly. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.”

Daiki nodded, swallowing the last of his food. “Honestly, I think it’s all too much for me sometimes, but I manage.” He cracked his knuckles, looking ready to tackle whatever came next, which was probably the sport class we had right after lunch.

We finished up our food quickly and made our way outside to the field for P.E. It was a sunny day, perfect for a little exercise. As we walked to the locker room, I couldn’t help but notice how different the day felt from the usual routine. The air seemed to have a little more pressure to it, but i brushed it off. Natsumi and I were joking around, Kaito occasionally chiming in with a dry comment, and Daiki was cracking jokes like always.

It felt like a perfect day—one of those days that made me wish life could always be like this. We changed into our gym clothes and headed out to the football field, where our classmates were already lining up, preparing for the match. Today’s class was going to be a casual one, with a little friendly competition between our class and another. I could see a few of the girls on the opposing team, including some of the ones who had been arguing with the new girl earlier.

Speaking of the new girl, she was the one causing all the commotion in the hallway before lunch. Apparently, she had just transferred to our school, and she was the daughter of a very famous and powerful CEO. The rumor was that she was incredibly smart, but some of the girls were still skeptical. They said she only made it into this prestigious school because of her family’s money, not her intellect. Of course, the new girl protested, trying to stand her ground, but it didn’t stop the whispers.

“Well, here’s hoping the new girl doesn’t get too cocky,” Daiki commented, breaking me out of my thoughts. “It’s one thing to have money; it’s another thing to play a sport. Let’s see how she does in the game.”

“Let’s just focus on our game,” I said, shaking my head and stepping onto the field. “The rest of it doesn’t matter. We’re here to have fun.”

I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline kick in as the whistle blew, signaling the start of the match. As the game progressed, I could see some of the girls—especially the new girl—watching from the sidelines, clearly more interested in the competition than in any of the drama happening off the field. My muscles were working with a fluidity I was proud of; even though I didn’t have the most impressive body, I worked out every day to build some muscle. My physique was lean, with just enough to give me an edge when I needed it.

Though I was more of a supporter on the field than a star player, I always tried to give my best. It was one of the ways I could blow off steam from my constant stress. As I jogged across the field, I kept my eyes on the ball, focusing on the game ahead.

But then—

Before I knew it, a sound shattered the calm atmosphere. A sharp, distant pop echoed from the direction of the school. I froze mid-step, the sound cutting through the air like a knife.

“What was that?” Natsumi’s voice was tense, her eyes scanning the surroundings, clearly not as confident as usual. There was no way she could dismiss it. We all heard it.

“I think it’s just the track team practicing,” Daiki said, trying to shrug it off, though I could see the unease in his eyes.

But the sound came again—a louder, sharper noise that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“That's not the track team” Natsumi said under her breath, her face paler now. “That’s gunfire.”

And just as she spoke, more shots rang out. I felt my pulse quicken, the color draining from my face. This was no drill, this was real. The school was under attack