Jiraiya High School

It only took my father three days to pack the house, we never carried much anyways. Everything fit snugly in his work van, we glanced at the house, and he set off with a smile. Part of me is still angry that he hid the truth about my mother for so long, but I also can’t remember the last time I felt so close to him.

“Kenji. Wanna see something cool?”

“Sure.” My father smiled mischievously.

“Open the glove box Kenji.”

I hesitated to open the glove box, a millimeter at a time, and I was still surprised.

“A bike chain?”

“Not just any bike chain Kenji. Pick it up, wrap it around your hand.”

I grabbed the chain and wrapped it around my knuckle. I instantly felt the surge of strength swelling within me that only an artifact could provide.

“Where did you get a bike chain with fortification?”

“A bunch of cyclists used them to cheat in the 90s before their heads got too big. They all got caught fighting in the nationals cafeteria.”

I give my father a nod, that makes a fair bit of sen-

“WAIT.” I immediately drop the bike chain.

“I don’t have an affinity for fortification; I can’t use this. I-I’ll lose my mind too.”

My father smiles and lets out a long sigh. “Kenji, you’re a Dragon God descendant. All elemental magic stems from your ancestors, you can use all of them.”

My father was part of the population that had no affinities. He couldn’t touch any artifacts without insulated gloves, or he ran the risk of their “side-effects.” We read about them in school, paranoia, hatred, ego, memory, or morality. None would kill you outright, but you weren’t exactly “well” after.

“That’s right. Thanks dad.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Get comfortable, we’ve got at least four hours to your new hometown.”

I slept through the rest of the drive, until we arrived at the new house. It was a two story unit sandwiched between a ramen shop and another unit. White accents balanced with wood trim, a real home. I helped my father unpack the van, and we decided to get dinner next door.

“Welcome!”

We sat down at the bar, and it only took my father 12 minutes before he was old friends with the worker. I never understood how he could just talk like that, I could only ever be a listener.

“And Kenji has school tomorrow!” My father wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me inwards.

“You’re Kenji? I hardly noticed!” The worker and my father share a laugh, I sit in my own awkward silence.

“I hear you’re going to Jiraiya High School.”

“That’s correct.”

“Great academic school, good focus on mystic sciences, and some top-tier athletic programs. You’re a lucky boy.”

I swirl a bottle of soy sauce to avoid too much direct eye contact.

“Yeah, I suppose I am.” A forced smile slips past my lips and unfortunately reaches the worker. I can see them recoil for but a moment.

“You know, I think your food’s ready. I’ll be right back.” The worker leaves the front and returns with two fresh bowls of soup. My father, despite offering to buy ramen, only ever eats udon in fish or eel sauce. I on the other hand ordered a Tonkotsu bowl. I get it every time, but I like the familiarity.

“Thank you for the food.”

We dig into the food, indulging ourselves in the savory flavor of a good soup with a thick broth. If I wasn’t eating I’d laugh at my father’s closed-eyes dreamily slurping a thick noodle.

The soup doesn’t last long, and we’re nursing our stomachs as we leave.

“Goodbye neighbor!” The worker shouts after us. Him and I giggle with food-drunk stupor until we reach our home. I barely make it to my bed before I burp myself to sleep. The next morning, my father wakes me.

“Kenji, I’ll be honest. I also slept in, but you can still make it.”

“What?” I peel open a tired, crusty eye.

“It’s 7:45, you’ve got school in 30 minutes Kenji.”

“Jeez…OH.” I leap out of bed and scramble to get ready. My teeth are brushed, my hair is combed, my uniform i-

“DAD! I don’t have a uniform!” My father’s half-asleep on the couch watching the morning forecast.

“Sorry Kenji, the email came yesterday. You’ve got a 9:00 meeting with the Vice Principal about getting settled. You’re just skipping your first class today I guess.”

“Dad…”

“I really am sorry Kenji, but could I still ask you to make me a cup of coffee?”

My father chuckles to himself, and I get him the coffee anyways. I wait a little while with my father before heading to school. I walk a few minutes to the train and ride through the downtown area to Jiraiya, and the view from the train is incredible.

I’ve never lived in a large city, but it really is something. The snow lay nicely on all the massive signs adorning every building. The train itself isn’t as clean as a cross-country car, but it’s much smoother somehow. Somehow the most interesting part is the people. Professional mana-techs, businessmen, and students all on the same train. The ride is pleasant and I make it to school with 15 minutes to spare. I decided to wait the rest of the time in the hallway.

“We’re ready to see you now.” The assistant vice principal lets me know.

“Thank you!”

I stand up and head towards the vice principal’s office. I heard online she was a brutal “Queen of Discipline,” but she always cared about her students above all. The reviews were very mixed, but promising. I never got into much trouble before, so I should be fine.

“Hello, nice you to meet you Mrs. Shi-”

“It’s Ms. Denda actually.” A different woman is sitting in the Vice Principal’s chair.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know. Could you be the vice principal then?”

The woman stands up and walks out from behind the desk. She’s an imposing height, with long blonde hair, and a white blouse tucked into red slacks. She smacks a ruler in her hand as she glares at me past her upturned nose.

“I don’t know, could I? Do I have your permission?” She cocks her head to the side and bends her torso a full 60 degrees just to get eye level.

“Don’t ask rhetorical questions, just go put this on.” Ms. Denda tosses a packaged uniform at me and points presumably towards the bathroom.

“You want me to change right now?”

“What did I just say?”

I hurry to the bathroom to put the uniform on. Surprisingly enough it fits well, it also smells good for a packaged uniform. I grab my old clothes and walk back to the vice principal’s office.

“Took you long enough, grab your bag. I have to give you a tour.”

I grab my bag and stuff my old clothes in before we get walking. Ms. Denda grabs some papers off the desk and we start walking. She introduces me to the whole school, the gymnasium, the art building, the mystic science building, and the auditorium. I learned that Ms. Denda teaches Literature in my 5th period, but she happens to fill in for the vice principal too.

“Why do you fill in for the vice principal?”

“She’s been on leave for a few weeks.”

“Do you know why?” Ms. Denda stops in her tracks and sarcastically whispers at me.

“No! I don’t know why. I don’t know anything, I don’t even know the layout of this school well enough to get around without a map!” She waves her papers at me, among which is a map of the school.

“Sorry, Ms. Denda.” I definitely asked the wrong question, I usually do. Ms. Denda nurses the bridge of her nose.

“It’s okay Kenji, just stop asking stupid questions please.”

The rest of the tour is tense, but not forever. Ms. Denda managed to take you on a full loop of the school before noon.

“Alright Kenji, that’s it.” She gestures for you to leave her office, but you don’t know where to go.

“Uhhh, what do I do?”

“It’s 12:00, go eat lunch. Go make a friend, go talk to a girl, just get out.”

She stands and guides me to the doorway.

“Thank you, Ms. De-”

The door slams in my face, and the emotional pain almost mirrors the real pain in my nose. I walk into the hallway as the bell rings.

“‘Go make a friend, go talk to a girl.’ What did she mean by that?”

I collide violently with a fellow student rushing out of class, we both fall to the ground.

“What the hell is your problem?”