Summoning

That morning began with the annoying sound of an alarm, as usual. I hit the snooze button for the third time before finally giving in and dragging myself off the worn futon. My tiny apartment was still dark, lit only by the LED strips wrapped around the shelf of figurines. 
“Shit, what time is it?” I muttered, reaching for my phone. 7:15 AM. School started at 8:00, and the train ride took 30 minutes. 
As always, I was late. 
Kurosawa Ren, 17 years old, third-year student of Class 3-A at Sakura High. Not a model student, not a troublemaker—just… there. Like a background character in an anime that shows up but never gets important dialogue. 
After a lightning-fast shower and eating plain toast while running, I made it to school just as the bell rang. Class 3-A was already buzzing with the usual morning chatter—gossip about the latest idol, complaints about hard homework, and after-school karaoke plans. 
“Good morning, Ren,” Kenji greeted quietly, his head still buried in his book. He was already sitting in the back corner—prime real estate for avoiding attention. 
“Morning,” I replied, sitting next to him. Matsuda Kenji, the only person in this class I could talk to about anime and light novels. Unfortunately, he was also the favorite target of the bullies thanks to his shy demeanor and thin frame. 
“Have you read the latest chapter of Skeleton Lord?” I asked while pulling my books out of my bag. 
“Not yet… still saving up to buy the new volume,” he replied, glancing nervously toward the front of the class. 
I followed his gaze. Watanabe Shinji was standing at the front with his gang—Hiroto and Tanaka. The most feared trio in Class 3-A. Shinji, 180 cm tall and athletically built from the basketball team, was the classic perfect asshole who asserted dominance in all the wrong ways. 
“Oi, Kenji,” Shinji turned to us with a terrifying smirk. “Did you finish yesterday’s math homework?” 
Kenji swallowed hard. “Y-yeah…” 
“Good. Lend it to me. I forgot to do it.” 
He didn’t forget. Shinji never did his homework. He just liked to take answers from others, especially Kenji, who always studied diligently. 
“But, Shinji-kun… if Yamamoto-sensei finds out that we—” 
“You trying to say no?” Shinji stepped closer, and his intimidating aura instantly filled the space. “Or do you want another ‘lesson’ like yesterday?” 
I saw the bruise on Kenji’s arm, half-covered by his cardigan. Yesterday, after school, Shinji and his gang had a little “talk” with Kenji behind the gym. I didn’t know the details, but judging by the way Kenji walked this morning, it wasn’t pleasant. Pathetic. This world doesn’t need demons when regular people are cruel enough. 
“Here,” Kenji handed over his homework notebook with trembling hands. 
“Good boy,” Shinji took the notebook and patted Kenji on the head like a dog. Disgusting. But no one laughed. Maybe because everyone knew that tomorrow, they could be the next Kenji. “Hiroto, copy this. Tanaka, keep watch for any teachers.” 
They sat at the front and began copying Kenji’s answers. I wanted to say something, but… what could I do? I wasn’t a hero. I was just a background character whose survival depended on staying invisible. 
“Sorry…” Kenji whispered. “I’m such a coward.” 
“You’re not the problem. They are,” I whispered back. 
But deep down, I knew we were both powerless. In the social hierarchy of Class 3-A, we were at the bottom. Kenji because he was an easy target, me because… well, I didn’t exist socially. 
The classroom door opened, and Yamamoto-sensei entered with heavy steps. He’d been teaching math for over 20 years, and his expression showed he was tired of dealing with unmotivated students. 
“Good morning, everyone. Take out yesterday’s homework.” 
Shinji and his gang casually handed in their copied answers. Yamamoto-sensei glanced at the identical responses but looked too exhausted to protest. 
“Takeshi-kun,” he called to a student seated in the middle of the room. “Can you help distribute the graded tests?” 
Nakamura Takeshi—the golden boy of Class 3-A. Tall, handsome, smart, athletic, and most importantly, respected by everyone. The basketball team captain and consistently top-ranked student. The perfect protagonist type you find in school life or shoujo anime. 
“Yes, Sensei,” Takeshi stood with a confident smile. He began handing out the tests, occasionally offering encouraging comments to classmates. 
“Nice job, Yuki-chan! Your math grade improved,” he said as he handed a paper to Taniguchi Yuki, who sat in the second row. 
Yuki was the classic nice girl—kind to everyone, helpful, and full of empathy. One of the few people who occasionally talked to Kenji without awkwardness. 
“Thanks, Takeshi-kun,” Yuki smiled sweetly. “You probably got a great score again.” 
“Thankfully, it’s decent,” Takeshi replied modestly. 
When he reached my desk, he handed me my test with a brief smile. “Kurosawa-kun, you got 76. Not bad.” 
“Thanks,” I replied shortly. 76 wasn’t bad for me, but compared to Takeshi’s likely 95+ or Miku’s usual perfect score, I was still far behind. 
Sasaki Miku sat in the front row, posture always straight and attention focused. The most ambitious student in class, always aiming for a top university. The kind who’d become an intimidating career woman someday. 
“Excellent, Miku-chan. Another perfect score,” Takeshi said, handing her test with a slightly impressed look. 
“Standard,” Miku replied coldly. She didn’t like socializing and preferred to focus on her academics. 
Yamamoto-sensei began the lesson on derivative functions. I tried to pay attention, but my mind wandered to the light novel I read last night. A story about an ordinary high schooler suddenly transported to a fantasy world and discovering he has a unique ability. 
Cliché? Definitely. But something about the idea of escaping boring reality was strangely appealing. 
“Kurosawa-kun,” Yamamoto-sensei’s voice jolted me back. “Can you solve problem number 3?” 
Shit. I hadn’t been paying attention. 
“Uh… which one, Sensei?” 
A few students chuckled. Yamamoto-sensei sighed—a familiar expression. 
“The integral of 2x + 3, Kurosawa-kun. Basic stuff.” 
“Oh, that… x² + 3x + C?” 
“Correct. But next time, focus on class, not on the novel hidden behind your book.” 
Damn, I got caught. 
Somehow, I managed to solve the problem correctly. 
“Nice, Ren,” Kenji whispered. “You always manage somehow.” 
“Luck,” I shrugged. 
Lunch break came, and as usual, Kenji and I ate on the school rooftop. A quiet place, far from the social drama in the cafeteria. From here, we could see the sprawling cityscape of Tokyo, skyscrapers stretching to the horizon. 
“You know,” Kenji began as he opened his bento, “this morning Shinji shoved me in the corridor. He said if I don’t give him my test answers tomorrow, he’ll… well, you know.” 
“Why don’t you report it to the teacher?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. 
“Useless. Shinji’s the principal’s son and has connections. If I report him, I’m the one who’ll get in trouble.” 
I nodded slowly. This world is full of injustice. You don’t need monsters or demons to create hell. Just a system that lets the strong crush the weak. 
I bit into my onigiri while staring at the sky. An unfair system. A rigid hierarchy. Bullying that’s ignored. Just like in anime—but in real life, the protagonist doesn’t show up to save the day. 
“Sometimes I wish,” Kenji continued, barely audible, “there was a way to escape all this. To go somewhere else, where I could be someone who’s not pathetic.” 
“You’re not pathetic,” I replied. “You’re just… stuck in the wrong situation.” 
“Same thing.” 
We ate in a comfortable silence. In the distance, I could see Takeshi and his group playing basketball in the courtyard, while Yuki and her friends sat under a tree, chatting and laughing. A normal teenage life that somehow felt so far from ours. 
“Ren,” Kenji suddenly said. “If you ever had a chance to completely start over, would you take it?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean, if you had the opportunity to move to a completely different place, where no one knew your past and you could be whoever you wanted… would you take it?” 
I looked up at the cloudy sky. “Maybe. But real life doesn’t work like that.” 
“Yeah, I know. Just wishful thinking.” 
The bell rang, and we got ready to head back. The rest of the day passed in routine—boring lessons, occasional bullying we couldn’t stop, and the countdown to the end of the day. 
During the last period (English Literature with Mrs. Sato), I saw Shinji throw a paper ball at Kenji. When Kenji opened it, his face turned pale. 
“Meet me after school. Alone. You know where.” 
Mrs. Sato was focused on the board and didn’t notice. But I saw the panic in Kenji’s eyes. 
“Don’t go,” I whispered. 
“If I don’t, tomorrow will be worse,” he whispered back. 
“If you do, today will be worse.” 
“At least I’ll survive till tomorrow.” 
I was frustrated. Why was the system so unfair? Why did good people like Kenji have to suffer, while assholes like Shinji did whatever they wanted with no consequences? 
The dismissal bell rang. Students began packing up, excitedly talking about weekend plans. Takeshi and his group were headed to the arcade, Yuki and her friends planned to go shopping in Shibuya, and Miku, as usual, would go straight home to study. 
“Ren,” Kenji stood up, his resolve forced. “If something happens to me, please don’t get involved. I don’t want you in trouble too.” 
“Kenji—” 
“Promise me.” 
I looked into the eyes of the only friend I had in this class. Eyes that used to light up when we talked about anime, now filled with resignation and fear. 
“…Okay.” 
Kenji nodded and walked out. I packed my things with a heavy heart, hoping he’d come back tomorrow in one piece. 
Just as I was about to leave, the floor began to glow. 
“Huh?” I looked down. Complex circular patterns with strange symbols spread across the classroom floor. 
“What is this?” Yuki, still in the room, looked confused. 
“Something’s wrong with the floor!” Takeshi shouted, pointing at the patterns that grew brighter. 
Students who had left rushed back in, panicked. 
“Everyone, stay calm!” Takeshi shouted, though his voice trembled. 
Shinji and his gang, about to leave, were now stuck inside as the light blocked the exit. Kenji, almost at the door, was forced to step back in. 
Miku screamed—something she rarely did. “What’s happening?!” 
The patterns grew brighter, and I began to feel something familiar. This… this was just like the summoning circles I’d seen in anime and light novels. 
“No way…” I whispered. 
“NOBODY MOVE!” Takeshi shouted, but it was too late. 
A brilliant white light filled the classroom. I felt my body float, as if pulled by an invisible force. The screams of my classmates grew fainter, and the last thing I remembered was the sensation of falling… but never hitting the ground. 
And then, darkness.