A Familiar Homeroom Is To Induce A Mental Repose

He sits in the third row of the leftmost line of desks, right next to the window.

The gaps between desks are wider, with each placed a bit farther apart to make the class seem fuller—the numbers are getting smaller with passing years.

In front of him, a girl is talking with another girl next over. His neighbor on the right is sleeping on the desk, his face buried under his arms. The seat behind is still empty.

No one is paying attention to him, which gives him some respite. He can focus instead on gaining some control over his inner turmoil.

The classroom is filled with the boisterous voices of his classmates, bantering and jesting in familiar tones. He chooses to look outside the window instead—best not to stare and worry too much… just focus on yourself for now.

Perhaps because he was too lost in his thoughts earlier, or because the low light of dawn hadn’t yet grown into its full brilliance, he didn't notice it then. But now, from the vantage point of the fourth-floor window, he can perceive the town teeming with life in its more dynamic outlook.

He sees the outer range with coppice woodlots, orchards, and farmlands, with cattle, sheep, and other livestock grazing in between.

Near the center, the buildings grow denser—divided into districts and blocks, with towering water tanks scattered throughout. Many greens can be seen from numerous rooftops; others are covered in solar panels, glittering under the bright sunlight.

The school complex, built on a high hill, makes those who gaze up at it from the distance below appear like a crowning jewel—possibly an intentional design by its builders in the past.

All divisions are arranged in ascending order by level of education. The elementary school sits near the base, the middle school along the mid-length of the slope, and the high school almost perched at the top.

Gazing from the peak below, the youth thinks that if not all, at least the view is the most appealing and charming part of the establishment.

“Alright, everyone, back to your seats and sit down.”

It takes a moment before he can tell apart the authoritative tone amongst all the other voices. He turns his face to the front of the class.

A grown-up man in a navy-colored tracksuit is standing behind the teacher’s desk, resting both his hands on top to support himself. His indolent manner and expression starkly contrast with his athletic physique.

“Uh… Starting from today, I will be your homeroom teacher for this class.”

Even though the teacher is already at the front, the classroom remains noisy, with many students minding their own business, still chatting and laughing with their classmates.

“Oi, oi, come on, guys. First day of school and you all are already fooling around this much…” The teacher gives a cursory look across the class. “Good grief, I guess I have quite a lively class this year as well, huh?”

“Then, sensei, will you do an introduction?” a student says out loud.

“It seems some of the students here don’t know you quite well yet,” another remarks, followed by a few giggles.

“Eh… there are still some of you who don’t know me? After all these years… that’s cruel. Everyone, you’re making me sad.” The teacher comments with a half-hearted pretense of a dejected face.

“Then, if all of you are willing to do a self-introduction again—telling me your full name, your hobby, your dream, etcetera—I would be willing to re-introduce myself to all of you again.”

“You know what, Naoi-sensei, please just continue as usual.”

 “As you wish, then.”

And that ends it. Something about the way the teacher responds and how the students are inclined to comply suggests a favorable impression of him.

The class is now becoming more conducive, as the loudest sound in the room becomes the tapping of Naoi-sensei straightening the insides of the holder and the stacks of files on the table.

“As third-years now, I hope all of you are prepared and will take your studies more seriously, since this will be the last year of your time here in school,” Naoi-sensei says, his eyes now turning toward the students.

“Although I also want to say let’s spend the rest of what’s left of our time here together and make the best memories of your youthful days while it lasts, before entering the harsh world of working members of society.”

Naoi-sensei throws a gesture of humorous pity. “Don’t forget that you also have to think carefully about the future, because time will not—”

“But it’s not like we can all go to college anyway,” a boy interrupts.

“Yes, I wanna go to a university, and to a mixer, and have fun with the cool college girls,” another boy adds. His spiky hair and crass tone complement his rebellious look.

“No way. And what makes you think those girls will want to have fun with you?” A girl retorts, her double pigtails and two front pieces swaying as her sharp eyes glare at the previous boy.

Her full brows, thick, long eyelashes, vivid red lips, and the bright flush on her cheeks show heavy makeup. “You can keep your fantasy under your pants and zip it.”

“Oh, come on, you’re a real stinker, Yukina. I bet you yourself would love to get hooked up with some seniors and fool around like a bimbo~”

“Idiot. You know what, those seniors would probably be much better guys than you are, anyway.”

The class becomes hectic, turning into something like a sports hall where supporters and spectators now start to join in, fanning the flames into a heated match of yells and tell-offs.

“Man, they’re going at it again. How long till those two realize they’re probably the best match under the heavens for each other already?”

The youth’s ear catches the light-hearted comment of his right-side neighbor, who is chuckling and amused by the spectacle. The grin is wide on his face. His slouching on the table makes his messy, curly hair partly cover his face like a curtain, but the youth can still easily sense his smiling eyes. Everything about him exudes the very image of the bubbly and outgoing.

“Though I can’t deny the appeal of going to college if we were given the chance. Hey, Shouma, how about you?”

“Hmm? Ah...” The question jerks Shouma out of his own head. “Not sure… I guess?”

“Well, even without going to college, your path is already set out for you, huh? With your parents being who they are, I guess it’s safe for me to assume you'll follow in their footsteps?”

Shouma feels a tight knot forming in his stomach. He is unsure of what to say; the air sticks in his throat. “Ahh... I—”

“Alright, enough. Be quiet now!” Naoi-sensei’s voice booms as he tries to put some order back into the class.

The clamor slowly dies down. The teacher lets out a deep sigh, then continues.

“Listen, it’s alright to wish that things could be better, and I’m not going to blame you for that. I know that with how things are, it can feel unfair. It can feel like you’re wronged even by fate to be denied something that you could’ve had the chance to experience, if only all of this had never happened.

"However, I want you to know that sometimes we just have to make the best with what we have, and it still won’t diminish the value of the hard work we have to do. As a teacher, I want you all to have the chance to use the full worth of your potential to help yourself, your friends, family, and all other people, so we can get through the now a bit-shittier-than-usual life that we have.”

Naoi-sensei pulls a playful but pithy smile.

Shouma feels the change in the class atmosphere. He is mostly relieved that, at least for now, he will be spared from any further questioning. From the corner of his eye, he wonders how effective the encouragement actually is toward its intended recipients. He is well aware of this teacher's highly regarded charm among the students.

“And besides,” Naoi-sensei says, now with a wide grin, “I’m sure you can still find the best match of your life and enjoy a bittersweet romance of youth without having to go to college. Such as the perfect example shown by our Romeo and Juliet duo—Igarashi Ryousuke-kun and Atsumi Yukina-san.”

“What?!”

“No shot!”

Ryousuke and Yukina's sudden roars of rejection are instantly answered by a burst of laughter rolling through the class.

“Well, I guess if it’s a bitter romance without the sweet part, then…”

 “They’re more like a cat and a dog fighting each other~”

“No, no, they’re already such a close couple they fight like a married one~”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough. Let’s settle down for now and really begin our homeroom, shall we?” Naoi-sensei’s resounding voice again echoes through, and the laughter slowly dies down.

“And after the usual lessons, we need to discuss several things—important things—for you soon-to-be graduates, including your apprenticeships. Which, by the way, I think are not that much different from college anyway. With that in mind, I hope all of you will take that discussion seriously.”

The students begin to murmur among themselves. For third-years, apprenticeships are something to be anxious about. To some degree, it won’t be as unnerving as the past concern of choosing which major or university to enroll in, but there is still a considerable weight behind it. It represents a transition from being a student who spends most of their time studying to fully dedicating their time and effort to sustaining the town and its survivability—which remains precarious and vulnerable in the face of their new way of life.

Although most students already work shifts in available jobs, an apprenticeship is a rite of passage that formally inducts them into the working world.

In some of the more specialized occupations—like a medical officer, engineer, architect, or any higher position in the many councils—being an apprentice brings a degree of respect as well as certain privileges. The limited acceptance and intense screening process almost carry the tense atmosphere of an entrance exam for a prestigious university.

“Alright, keep the excitement to a minimum, okay? Let’s begin the homeroom for now. But first,” Naoi-sensei picks up a holder and flips through some pages. “Let’s go through the attendance list…”

As each student’s name is called down the list, Shouma can’t help but start drifting… 

"Atsumi Yukina?”

“Heere…”

Apprenticeships…

“Chibana Haruki?”

“Yeesss…” his neighbor answers languidly.

…Should really be thinking about it…

The boys and the girls are being called one by one. Their names pass by him, muffled in the background.

…Both of them wouldn’t care…

“…Shouma? Fukunaga Shouma-kun?”

 “—Ah, yes. Here…”

The sudden call startles him. The roll call continues, but apprehension suddenly strikes him.

He looks around, trying to read the air and the profiled or hidden expressions of his classmates. Stop it. Calm yourself down… Shouma tries to pull in some rein of control—a protective spell he will constantly prompt in his mind for the remaining duration of the homeroom.