Where the Hell Am I?!

Just where the hell have I been dragged off to?!
First step off the train station, and at my feet, curled up on the sizzling white pavement is some middle-aged woman puking up on to my shoes like they're some kind of litter basket!
"Ehhh... Sorry, Boss... I'll finish the rest later, *hic*...
...
...
...
Hm.
Very interesting.
As soon as I stepped off the scarlet station steps, the sunbeams stuck themselves against me, pressing my shirt against my skin, coating me in a film of uncomfortable heat and gross stickiness. Both humidity and sheer, garish heat were one-two-punching me against the face, and I could already feel a headache coming on.
Although I hadn't packed much, even things as light as schoolbooks and stationery can pile on each other into something significant. Besides, most of my textbooks were pretty thick anyway, so even with as sparse of a collection as I had brought along, I could still feel the skin against my shoulders being rubbed raw from the weight.
While I waited to be picked up, I loosened the bag from my shoulders, sitting beneath the cool shade of an old, towering tree, one of the many that were moving an ocean of shadows across this small opening in front of the station. 
Although I had lived in an urban environment most of my life - no, maybe because I had lived in that kind of concrete-filled atmosphere - nature was something that I had always been drawn towards, especially during my third year, where strolls along the parks and older, more lush and scenic roads were some of my only moments of serenity at the time.
Sure, it was my own choice to study so much, to place such an importance on learning and seriously taking in what I was being taught, and spreading myself even further, almost tearing the neurons in my head apart from the stress. That's not to say society doesn't impose a whole lot of that on students itself, and honestly, the points at which my own desires for knowledge ended and the superimposed impetus of a Juken-culture meritocracy began to worm its way in were extremely blurry. 
There were a lot of points where I questioned just what my purpose was, who I was living this kind of life for.
Maybe, in the ambiguous way that parents usually do, my mother realised the kind of internal struggle that was pulling me into a million pieces, which is why I'm now boiling alive under a stupidly bright midday sun.
Well, no use thinking back on that now.
A new life, or at least, a new period along the course of my life is beginning, and I'm certain that there will be new things to learn, new ways to learn them, alongside something to distract me from the walls closing in on my future back home.
"Guuuh... *hic*... Supposed to meet me, huh?!"
Oh, I suppose I should look down.
That's right, the best way to deal with these people is not give them any attention.
Those ants twisting into little wavy lines at my feet are far more interesting anyway.
Look at their senseless devotion, the giving away of their freedom to the instinct of working tirelessly for their queen.
I don't understand it.
Maybe if I got a girlfriend I would.
"Oi, Suikuikui... You got a Suika card? Hehehe..."
Why is she digging around in my bag?!
"Hey, hands off lady!" I burst out with, not even trying to hide the agitation anymore, swatting her hand away like a child's, to which her sluggish movements meant that without pulling back in time, she had let the Suika card get smacked out between her fingers.
"Oopsie" she drawled out with a sinister look creeping from her lips, one that worried me too much, and now I'm seriously wondering if I'm going to end up drowned in a river or something by this lunatic.
Hold on, was she just making some drunk old woman's joke, or did she really know my name?
Don't tell me...
"Excuse me, miss, but is your name Genmi?"
"BINGO!"
"GYAH!"
Pushing her face up to mine and yelling something that ludicrously loud had sent me tumbling backwards into the brambles, while she sat there laughing her drunken ass off while trying to pull me out by the leg.
My new shirt was getting all muddy as she dragged me down to the street like a corpse.
"Don't leave me out here, I look like roadkill! Besides, what if a car comes by and really turns me into mush!"
"Don't worry kiddo, the roads all shut and closed down and whatevs."
"Huh?"
"Heheh... You've been waiting here for, uhg, what, an hour?" she mumbled, scratching her head and sending an extra few strands loose from her ponytail, now almost completely loosened on the left side.
Even her clothes were barely on properly, with her jacket almost falling off her shoulders and her skirt twisted sideways. 
At some point, she must have dropped her heels, because only one of them remained clutched in her left hand, although her pinky was jutting out like she was still gripping the phantom of it.
"Wait, so that means..."
She's the adult guardian that's supposed to be responsible enough to pick me up.
A real up-tight woman, perfect to take care and provide for me, an up-tight student.
Those words were ringing with so little truth that my own head had begun spinning from disbelief.
"That's right! Lemme get my car."
With that, she darted off towards the small rooftop outcrop that hung over the entrance to the station, almost falling flat on her face as she turned the corner towards the large carpark that made me think the city planner had really overestimated the number of tourists or commuters coming to this place.
Rather, I wish she wouldn't drive while that drunk.
At least have a raw egg with milk and get a little more lucid or something.
Those incessant cicadas were droning on in the background, and sure, it definitely makes me feel like I'm in some classic shoujo anime, but it seriously is sending my head through waves of pain right now.
Well, I guess I should follow her.
Picking up my things, zipping up my messenger bag, I trudged along the pebbled footpath.
"Ooooiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!"
Without even a chance to react, like some kind of divine intervention, no, devilish intervention, just at the moment I had remembered my Suika had been battered away on to the concrete strip of road, a black blur dashed from the corner of my vision, almost cutting my fingers clean off, and sending tiny bits of emerald green into the air like shattered pieces of a mirror.
"Oopsie"
That drunk old hag, with that same sinister expression that didn't suit a woman in her thirties, giggled at me as I stared down in disbelief at the little fractures of a penguin spread out like a collage before me.

I won't even describe the trip home.
Not a single word will be dedicated.
Why would I get into a vehicle with an irresponsibly drunk woman like Genmi, you ask?
I would like to say it's the heat frying all those neurons so carefully curated through my years of experience and study.
The raging swell of a headache already booming against my forehead, stinging the back of my eyes.
But no.
I was too much in awe of the difference between this place and back home.
But more than that, something might be bubbling underneath everything here, something shaken up by my past, and kicked about into fizzling soda by this place.
When I stepped out of the car in one piece, the realisation that I very well could have perished here dawned on me like a raincloud.
For a while, I felt sluggish with the thought that letting my guard down here meant a violent, quite embarrassing death.
"O-kay! Welcome to your new home!"
Somehow, the instant she had taken the wheel, she turned from a laughable drunk, to a serious drunk, and though her driving was still prone to drifting off on to the grass or jolting me with sudden bursts of speed, her eyes had, although always having a sharp, scary gleam to them, become the cool, acute scowl of a boss that whips her subordinates into shape.
Maybe she really was a serious, stuck-up person, just a little loose with her liquor.
"Thanks for the help, Genmi."
"Oh, it's nothing! I owe your mother one, anyway. Now, get set up inside, the first room upstairs to the left, and I'll help you settle in, right after I clean myself up a little, okay?"
With another thank you and a bow, I pulled my bags out from the trunk and watched her swerve dangerously to the side as she turned the corner to her 'secret parking spot'... whatever that was...
While the heat was still hellish against my skin, the sunlight was thankfully no longer boring into me with a ferociousness where I could actually feel each cell in my body burning up and shrivelling into a corpse. The street my new home was on was rather quaint, part of a small strip mall that ran across to the left, while a residential district, replete with apartment complexes and older, two-story homes and some Jutaku sprinkled alongside them, wedged into little alleys. 
The reason I had the second story room was because the entire first floor was taken up by a nice, modern looking cafe melded with a bookstore, with comfortable looking jade couches and the nice, wall-vined and wooden interior that have begun to spring up everywhere these days.
That is to say, a nice blend of newness but without the cold, uncomforting sleekness of a lot of the more modern establishments, made this place seem like a hidden haven out here in this frighteningly hot and overgrown town.
Behind me, I could just barely hear the low thrum of waves crashing against the shoreline.
Maybe this place would turn out a lot nicer than I had thought.
Lugging everything I had brough with me up the metal staircase to the side of the building, I unlocked the door with a set of keys Genmi had handed to me, wide-eyed with surprise that they had actually been the right ones, though already beginning to forget the drunken version of her which was slowly being etched over by this new cool, strong-looking woman who had a Takasugi keychain on her home keys.
It was damp and muggy inside, dark from the lack of any windows, though opening the first door to my left, I was struck by the cleanliness and size of my new room.
Sure, there's nothing much to say - a hardwood floor, smooth white walls, and a single long window looking out against the street - but it seemed... normal, even nice.
A small rectangular shelf was the only furniture inside, though it was already almost full of old mystery novels including a handful of newer ones that I hadn't read or even seen before.
How nice, I suppose she shares some of my interests.
It should make ingratiating myself a little easier.
Still, I don't know if I'm happy to be relating to Genmi so much...
Hm, well, I suppose I should start unloading, then.
After clearing out my bags and shoving in a handful of my own novels, trying to stab the mental note of asking for some indoor plants inside of my head, and finding a stack of sheets placed neatly inside the cupboard, I realised that stuck at the wooden head of the low, small bed nudged in the corner was a crinkled handwritten note.
I slipped it along the tape, bringing it up to my face with a concerned look.
As I pulled the tape off from the headboard, I realised that alongside the note, something else had been stuck underneath, and it had drifted to-and-fro like a feather after I lifted the paper. 
Luckily, I managed to grab it in between my fingers in some stroke of dexterity without bending it too much, but when I flipped it over to take a look at the side dark with colour, I regretted not tearing it then and there.
An extremely lewd shot of Genmi with her long hair tied back, her bangs resting off her forehead, while with one finger she was pulling down the short cream blouse to reveal...
Hey, hold on a minute.
Just what kind of joke is she pulling here?!
What I mean is, even without the writing or nefariously placed arrow, it's clear what this is supposed to be, right?!
No, hold on.
Opening the note clasped in my left hand, I read the first few lines and was showered in the glow of justification.
Yes, this woman was deranged.
Did she know I was almost underage?
No, more than that, the only think more pathetic than me making an Evangelion reference is some 30-ish woman making one.
Hasn't she watched End?
Doesn't she know how this is going to end?
No, more than that, she's like a fan that takes pride in his world-swallowing depression when he's never realised that the point was to break free of that self-inflicted, escapist insulation.
She's not there as a role model, you know?
No, she's there to guide you along a better path.
So why are you writing a note that sounds like a woman confessing her love to a married man?!
Please, though your loyalties lie elsewhere, take a look at the desperate desire seeping from here and inching towards you is just too much!
Everybody latches on to that chain that steadily rises them to the surface of bliss, but sometimes that chain is attached to a whaling ship, your anchor a harpoon; there's no shame in understanding the need to take a different path in life from that that you have dedicated yourself to -  honestly, I'm starting to worry just how big a distance lies between this woman and reality.
...
However, reading lower and lower into this indecipherable madness, I've realised something, something that the tiny vermillion stamp and signature is enforcing as the truth.
This wasn't written by Genmi.
No, honestly, this was probably, almost definitely written by Genmi, but this wasn't from her.
I see.
It's hard to tell whether everything, even the photo, was a part of it, but it aligned to cleanly to cast aside.
I was being poached by the photography club.