Canvas of Silent Colors

Suimei High School.

It was a part of the larger Suimei Institution, sharing its campus with the prestigious university a few blocks away. This morning, the front gates teemed with new first‑years, their crisp uniforms bright beneath clear morning sky. Cherry blossoms drifted lazily down, settling on the stone path as if carried by a gentle breeze.

Not long after we reached Suimei's front gates, the third-years split off to their respective classrooms. Sorata headed to Class 3-B, Nanami waved goodbye before hurrying to Class 3-C for the performing arts students, and Mashiro walked silently towards Class 3-A, reserved for the art course. Their classes were on the third-year floor, each room lined up by department like some silent reminder of the paths they'd chosen.

For me, the new students, I go to gym for the opening ceremony.

Inside the gym, the principal began his speech about honor and responsibility. Even as a new student, I knew opening ceremonies were always the same — dull, drawn out, and soporific. Back in middle school, and even in my past life, I'd sat through speeches like this and nearly nodded off. Now, despite having a lifetime's worth of memories, I felt my eyes grow heavy again.

When at last the ceremony ended, we poured out into the hallways. I made my way toward classroom 1‑B in the east wing, passing the art studios and the scent of turpentine and paint that clung to the air. The room buzzed with chatter as students settled into desks.

I slipped into a seat in the middle of the back row, surrounded by chattering classmates. The window seats were too bright, and the front row was too exposed. Here, I could watch without drawing attention. My chest fluttered with a quiet restlessness I couldn't shake.

I've changed a lot from my previous life, but some things never get easier. I still struggle to talk to people my own age. Even now, even after the coding awards, the published papers that made my teachers call me a genius – none of it taught me how to talk to people.

Not really.

Sure, I could speak politely and hold proper conversations with adults, especially with my family. With them, I never felt the need to hold back. But with classmates my age… I never really knew what to say. Most of the time, I just listened, smiling calmly, pretending to blend in while my mind drifted elsewhere.

Maybe it was because I'd always been too serious. Too mature. Too quiet and careful, even back in elementary school. After all, I carried memories from another life, and that made other kids thought I was "good" or "smart" but never quite… one of them. And middle school only widened that gap.

Especially after that time.

The time I exposed the school's scandal.

I could still hear the hushed voices, the rustling of newspapers, the strained thank-you's from victims, the cold stares from everyone else who thought I was meddling.

Even though the teachers praised my sense of justice, even though the victims thanked me, no one wanted to be friends with the boy who ripped off masks and revealed ugly truths.

I didn't regret it, but it did make me harder to approach. Harder to understand.

Maybe that's why I felt oddly at home in Sakurasou. None of us fit the usual mold—Sorata, Nanami, Mashiro, and the rest of us in the special dorm. There was no standard here to measure against, so we found one another more easily.

---------------------------

The classroom door slid open with a sharp slam.

Not long after that, entering classroom is a man wearing a wrinkled white lab coat over a pink hoodie, the hood drooping down his back like a lazy afterthought. His black tie was loose and half-untucked, and his red hair stuck out at odd angles, giving him a wild, unkempt look.

What really completed the image, though, was the handheld game console in his right hand, his thumb still tapping at the controls as he walked straight to the podium without glancing up.

"Yo. Morning."

His voice was flat, bored, almost resentful that he had to waste his breath on a greeting.

"Name's Kagami Junichiro. I'll be your homeroom teacher. Nice to meet you all."

Silence fell. The entire class just… stared. The way his half-lidded eyes never left his console screen as he spoke, the way his words dripped with disinterest – it was almost impressive.

Finally, with a sigh heavy enough to carry centuries of suffering, he paused his game and looked up.

"Before you ask, yes, I'm your teacher. No, I'm not here because I want to be. The principal roped me into this because apparently 'teaching the youth is the duty of society' or whatever."

He waved a lazy hand, dropping his console onto the podium with a clack. "Anyway. Follow the rules, don't die, and let me keep playing my game in peace, and we'll get along fine."

I rested my cheek against my palm, watching him with a flat gaze. Seriously… Kagami Junichiro? That Kagami Junichiro? The unmotivated genius NEET teacher from anime, standing right here in front of me, slouching with that trademark aura of profound apathy.

A quiet exhale slipped out of me, soft enough not to be heard over the murmurs spreading through the room.

…This world really isn't normal.

First Shiina Mashiro. Then people with natural pink, blue, and all other unique color walking around like it's normal, rarer to see black or brown. And now this – a fictional teacher straight out of anime, standing right there with his game console and terminal laziness.

"This is proof number… what, fifteen?" I mumbled under my breath, my lips barely moving. I'd long since lost count of the reminders that this world wasn't like my previous one. Not even close.

He began roll call with a yawn so wide I wondered if his jaw would unhinge.

"Aki Tomoya."

"H-here!" A boy with glasses next to me raised his hand nervously, his voice cracking just slightly.

My gaze shifted towards him, quiet and assessing. Neat hair. Slightly hunched posture. Hands trembling faintly against his knees.

Aki Tomoya. The otaku protagonist of Saekano… sitting right beside me.

My eyes narrowed minutely, observing the faint flush in his ears as he lowered his hand.

'If he's here… then his three club members are probably around as well.'

I let out a silent sigh, returning my gaze to the front. This world… really is an anime world. I should've expected nothing less by now.

Still, I kept memorizing every name called. It was just polite. Names are important. Knowing them keeps mistakes minimal.

"Kurosawa Yui."

"Hai!" A girl with short black hair tied in a half-ponytail raised her hand crisply.

"Tanaka Shin."

"Yo." A lanky boy with droopy eyes waved without bothering to look up from his phone, hidden under his desk.

"Nakamura Haruto."

"Hai!" replied a broad-shouldered boy with neat brown hair, his voice deep and confident. Baseball club material, undoubtedly.

"Fujimoto Ayaka."

"Ah… hai." A petite girl with dark brown hair tied with a blue ribbon spoke up softly, almost a whisper.

Finally, Kagami-sensei stopped scrolling the list, rubbing at his temple with visible annoyance.

"Natsuki Ren."

I blinked, raised my hand calmly, and spoke in my usual quiet voice. "Hai."

His half-lidded eyes glanced at me with vague recognition before looking back down. "Polite one, huh. Alright."

I lowered my hand and resumed memorizing each student's name, matching them to their subtle mannerisms. 

He continued calling names with mechanical apathy.

"Yamada Kenji."

"Here." A boy with short spiky hair grinned mischievously, his sharp canine teeth peeking out slightly.

"Suzuki Reina."

"Hai!" answered a girl with round glasses and two neat braids, her voice precise and careful.

When roll call ended, Kagami-sensei yawned again, stretching his arms until his lab coat sleeves fell back, revealing thin wrists.

"Alright, that's everyone. Welcome to hell. Try not to make my life harder than it already is."

I watched him place his console back into his hands without missing a beat, his fingers already moving across the buttons as if class had never interrupted him.

I let out a long, quiet exhale, eyes drifting to the pale morning light spilling across the floor.

'What a teacher…'

I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the weight of the day settle on my shoulders.

'For now… just observe. And focus on my plans for Mashiro-senpai… and Undertale. Everything else can wait.'

-------------------------

The first morning classes ended faster than I expected. Mostly, it was just Kagami-sensei explaining the upcoming week's schedule, safety rules, and the general expectations for Suimei students. Even he, despite his lazy tone and half-slouched posture, had to follow procedure.

"…and remember, cleaning duties are assigned on a rotating basis," he droned, flipping his attendance sheet. "Art materials aren't free, so don't waste paint just because it looks fun."

A few students laughed nervously. I simply wrote everything down neatly in my planner. Even in high school, first days are all the same… paperwork, rules, introductions. Though at least Suimei is thorough.

This is an art-focused high school, after all. Materials management and safety are real concerns.

When the bell rang for lunch break, students stood up quickly. Some formed small groups to eat together, others left for the cafeteria downstairs or the small garden courtyard outside. A few, like me, remained seated, quietly unpacking their lunch.

Tomoya sat hunched over his desk, staring blankly at the timetable handout. His fingers fidgeted with the paper's edge, crumpling and smoothing it out again and again. His bag lay unopened by his feet, untouched since homeroom.

I watched him quietly from my seat. He looked… lost. Nervous, almost trembling, as if he didn't know where to go or what to do next.

I closed my lunchbox lid with a soft click, the sound small in the hushed classroom. For a moment, I simply sat there, observing the thin line of his shoulders, the way he curled slightly inward, shrinking into himself.

It's hard, isn't it? Taking the first step. Reaching out.

I knew that feeling well. In my previous life… and even now, despite this calm façade I wear so easily.

I stood up and walked over to his desk. The floor creaked softly beneath my shoes.

"Aki-san, right?"

He flinched, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. Wide and startled, like a deer caught in a quiet clearing.

"E-eh…? Ah… y-yes…?"

I smiled gently. "I'm Natsuki Ren. We didn't really introduce ourselves earlier."

"R-right… Natsuki-kun…" he mumbled, scratching his cheek, eyes darting away. His voice trembled just slightly.

My gaze flicked to his empty desk. No lunch. Not even a bread roll.

"…You don't have lunch today?"

"Ah… no, I… I was thinking of getting something later," he said quickly, almost apologetic.

I paused, watching his fingers clench tighter around the timetable.

It's always like this, isn't it? When you're alone. When you're too nervous to move forward on your own.

"Would you like to go to the cafeteria together?" I asked softly. "It's my first day here too. I'd appreciate the company."

His eyes widened further. A small sound escaped his throat, half-choked surprise. "E-eh… ah… are you sure? I-I mean, if you're okay with that…"

I nodded, still holding that quiet smile. "Of course. Eating alone on the first day feels a bit too gloomy, don't you think?"

He lowered his head, shoulders trembling in relief. "Th-thank you…"

I waited as he scrambled to grab his wallet from his bag. Sunlight spilled through the windows, pooling across the classroom floor, illuminating floating dust motes between us.

Watching his back as he hurried to catch up, I let out a small exhale.

At least… having one friend might make this place a little less suffocating.

Even if most teenagers are childish to me… at least some are still acceptable. And Aki-san seems harmless enough.

I slipped my hand into my pocket, the other holding my bento bag as I followed Aki-san out into the hall

'Besides… it's better to help each other out. That's just polite, isn't it?'

We stepped out into the hallway. The faint scent of wood polish lingered in the air, mixed with fresh spring breeze wafting from the open windows. My shoes clicked lightly against the smooth linoleum floor with each step.

As we walked, I let my eyes roam over the interior. Pale cream walls, clean wooden trim, fluorescent lights set in even rows across the ceiling. The first floor hallways felt wide, almost generous compared to the cramped public schools I remembered from my previous life. It reminded me more of an art university building – calm, spacious, filled with quiet natural light.

On our left, we passed the infirmary room. Its frosted glass windows displayed neat black lettering "Health Office." Beside it was the staff office, where homeroom and subject teachers gathered between classes.

I glanced down the branching hallways. According to the maps posted near each stairwell, the second floor held the second-year classrooms, while the third floor belonged to third-years. It was a logical layout. Efficient, minimizing traffic jams. I could almost hear my past teachers praising the building committee for this simple practicality.

"Suimei really is… big," Aki-san mumbled beside me, looking around with cautious eyes. "Much bigger than my junior high…"

I hummed softly in agreement. "It's more like an art university than a typical high school. I suppose that's expected. Their course divisions are broad, and they probably need separate spaces for each art department."

"Yeah… there's even a whole building for fine arts and design…" His voice grew faint with wonder.

We walked past large windows revealing the courtyard. A wide open yard spread out, framed by cherry blossom trees still holding the last petals of spring. Beyond the courtyard, connected by a glass-covered walkway, stood the cafeteria building. Its modern gray exterior contrasted with the older traditional layout of the main school block.

I noted the clear signs overhead as we walked: arrows pointing to the general education wing, the music department wing, and another towards the performing arts building. On the opposite end, a connecting hallway led further to the clubroom building, and beyond that, an athletic field and backyard area for sports or large-scale art projects.

As we entered the cafeteria building, the faint smell of warm bread, ramen, curry, and fried meat filled the air immediately. Students crowded around the counters with trays, chattering lightly, their uniforms neat yet personalized with small accessories.

Aki-san shuffled closer to me nervously, gripping his wallet tight in his fist.

I glanced at him, then back at the cafeteria interior. Wide glass windows lined the walls, allowing sunlight to spill across rows of wooden tables and white metal chairs. The ceilings were high, giving the space an airy, open feeling that made it easy to breathe.

'It's clean. Modern. Efficient. Bright enough to feel lively, but quiet enough to feel calm…'

I turned slightly to Aki-san. "Let's get our food and find a table near the window. Less crowded there."

"R-right…" he mumbled, following behind me with careful steps.

As we lined up to buy our meals, I let my eyes wander again, quietly absorbing everything around me.

Beyond the cafeteria's wide glass walls, I could see the clubroom building, its entrance bustling with upperclassmen coming and going. 

Some carried large portfolios, others instruments in black cases. The late morning sun cast a soft glow on the courtyard stones.

'It really feels like a university campus,' 

Aki-san shuffled forward in the line, peering at the menu screen with focused eyes. "Hmm… maybe… pork cutlet sandwich…" he mumbled, almost to himself.

He bought his meal quickly – a pork cutlet sandwich and a bottle of green tea – then followed me to an empty table near the window.

Sunlight spilled over the seats, illuminating specks of dust floating lazily in the air.

We sat down. I placed my lunchbox neatly in front of me, untying the cloth wrap with quiet fingers.

Aki-san fidgeted with his sandwich wrapper. His stomach growled softly, earning a faint flush on his cheeks. I smiled faintly at the sound. Well… we're still teenagers. Hunger comes easily.

I opened my lunchbox, revealing rice topped with sesame seeds, rolled tamagoyaki, simmered vegetables, and two pieces of karaage fried chicken tucked neatly in the corner. Steam rose gently from the rice.

Aki-san's eyes darted to my lunchbox for a second before he looked away quickly, biting into his sandwich.

I clasped my hands together lightly. "Itadakimasu."

Aki-san blinked, then hurriedly set down his sandwich, clasping his own hands. "I-Itadakimasu."

We began eating in a comfortable silence. The warmth of the food spread through my chest, calming and familiar.

After a while, I noticed Aki's gaze flickering repeatedly towards my karaage. His eyes lingered there longer each time before darting away in guilt.

A small chuckle escaped my lips.

He stiffened, sandwich halfway to his mouth. "Eh…?"

I tilted my head slightly, a calm smile curling my lips. "If you want some, Aki-san, just ask."

His face turned bright red. "N-no! I couldn't—!"

I picked up a piece of karaage with my chopsticks, holding it out lightly towards him. "It's fine. But… equivalent exchange, okay?"

He blinked, eyes wide. "Eh… equivalent exchange…?"

My smile turned slightly teasing. "That pork cutlet sandwich looks good. I want a bite."

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, then he nodded frantically, holding out his sandwich with trembling hands. "O-of course!"

I chuckled softly again, taking a small bite.

'Sweet sauce… decent quality cutlet. Not bad for cafeteria food'

He accepted the karaage from my chopsticks with careful fingers, biting into it with an almost reverent expression.

"D-delicious…" he whispered, eyes sparkling faintly.

Then, suddenly, his entire body stiffened. His eyes shot wide open, almost glowing behind his glasses. "E-equivalent exchange…! Wait… that's… that's…!"

He slammed his palms lightly against the table, leaning forward with trembling shoulders. "That's Fullmetal Alchemist! Edward Elric! T-the principle of alchemy – 'To obtain, something of equal value must be lost!'"

His voice rose higher, trembling with passion. "Fullmetal is just… it's a masterpiece! The world-building, the dark moral dilemmas, Ed and Al's brotherhood, Mustang's pure badassery – ahhh, and Winry's wrench scenes…!"

Words tumbled from his mouth like an unstoppable waterfall, growing faster with each phrase. His fingers drummed rapidly against his tray, shoulders shaking from excitement. Nearby students glanced over with raised brows, but Tomoya didn't even notice.

I couldn't help it. A small smile tugged at my lips.

I let him finish his ramble, his breathing a little ragged from enthusiasm. His cheeks flushed pink when he realized I was staring at him, and he ducked his head, shoulders curling inwards.

"S-sorry…" he mumbled. "I… I got carried away…"

"It's fine." My smile softened further. "I like anime too."

He froze, his eyes slowly widening in disbelief. "…Really?"

"Mm." I chewed thoughtfully before continuing. "I watch pretty much anything. Even the underrated ones."

His eyebrows shot up. "Underrated…? Like what?"

I tilted my head slightly, thinking for a moment. "For example… Hoshizora Chronicle. Beautiful atmospheric sci-fi. Or Kurogane no Requiem. Dark mecha series with surprisingly strong character writing. And Kimi to Hibi no Kanata… a quiet slice-of-life drama about a girl and her sick younger brother. Not many people talked about them."

He stared at me, mouth hanging open.

Slowly, I noticed his gaze scanning me – my neatly styled black hair, the subtle muscle tone visible under my uniform sleeves, my straight posture, and calm expression.

His thoughts were practically visible across his face.

He swallowed, looking down at his tray with a soft exhale. "…That's… amazing."

I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head slightly. "Hm?"

His cheeks tinted faintly pink. "Ah, I just… I thought… you know, anime fans are usually… um… different. But you're… you're really cool, Natsuki-kun."

I blinked, then let out a small chuckle. "Thanks. But it's just a hobby. I enjoy stories. And… well, anime is full of stories worth learning from."

He stared at me with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing silently again like a goldfish. Then he smiled – small, awkward, but genuine.

"I… I think it's really nice that you don't hide it."

I shrugged lightly, picking up another bite of karaage. "Why hide what you like? As long as it doesn't hurt anyone."

His smile widened further, and he nodded quickly. "Yeah… yeah, you're right."

We didn't say much after that. The rest of lunch passed quietly, filled only with the soft sounds of chewing and the distant murmur of cafeteria chatter. Neither of us felt the need to break that silence. 

-----------------------

After we finished, I closed my lunchbox, wiping my mouth with a napkin before standing up. Tomoya followed suit, crumpling his empty sandwich wrapper in his hands.

"Wanna walk around a bit?" I asked casually, holding my lunchbox. "It'll help the food settle… and we can explore more."

He blinked, startled by the suggestion. Then he nodded, fumbling with his glasses slightly as he adjusted them on his nose. "Y-yeah. That… sounds good."

We left the cafeteria together, stepping out into the hallway. The sunlight spilled in through the wide windows, illuminating the polished floors in warm gold.

As we walked, I let my eyes wander again, quietly observing everything. The scale of Suimei Academy… it still struck me each time I paused to take it in.

After we pass main building again, we entering a short connecting hallway lined with glass panels. Beyond it stood another building – the library annex. A modern structure, two floors tall, seamlessly connected to both the first and second floors of the main building through covered glass walkways.

Through the windows, rows upon rows of shelves were visible, along with private study cubicles lined neatly against the far wall. A few students sat there already, books open, heads bowed in quiet focus.

Next to the library entrance was a smaller doorway marked Supplies Shop. Inside, I glimpsed racks of notebooks, pencils, specialized art paper, lab coats, goggles, and even pre-packaged buns for students rushing to cram before class.

Past it, further down the annex hall, I saw a row of doors marked Chemistry Lab, Biology Lab, and Physics Prep Room. Logical placement… close to the library for referencing experiments, and isolated enough to prevent fumes from wafting into classrooms.

The air here was different.

Cooler, and quieter.

The faint scent of old books and antiseptic mixed faintly in the corridor. Even my footsteps felt muted against the polished vinyl floor.

Beside me, Tomoya walked with his head slightly lowered, his grip tightening around his bag strap.

"…Um." His voice came out small, almost swallowed by the silent corridor. "Natsuki-kun."

I glanced at him. "Hm?"

He hesitated, then took a slow breath, his shoulders trembling just slightly. "…Thank you."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

He kept his gaze fixed on the floor ahead as he walked, glasses catching the reflected light. "…For… talking to me first. I… I get nervous. Around people."

His voice wavered, so quiet I almost didn't hear him.

"I… don't really… do well with conversations. Especially with girls. Or… anyone, really. I get anxious and overthink things and… and people say I look gloomy, or creepy. Like… like I'm just… weird."

He trailed off, words dissolving into silence.

I watched him from the side. His shoulders curled inward, as if bracing for ridicule. As if expecting me to laugh or nod in forced sympathy, then walk away.

Instead, I smiled softly. Almost to myself.

'2014… yeah. Whether my previous life or this life, otaku stigma was still strong. Anime fans were often seen as shut-ins, loners, creepy nerds. Quite ironic if you think about it.'

I let my gaze drift forward again, taking in the faint midday light filtering through the glass roof above us. Dust motes floated silently in the air.

"…Don't worry about it," I said quietly, my voice echoing softly through the empty annex hall. "You're not weird for liking what you like. You're just… you."

He didn't reply, but I felt the silence shift. A quiet, fragile relief flickered there in his eyes.

We walked on, side by side, our footsteps swallowed by the polished floors, leaving only the silent warmth of shared understanding in our wake.

"Thank you again, Ren."

"You're welcome, Tomoya."

We kept walking, the silence between us no longer heavy.

I let my eyes drift upwards again. Past the ceiling lights, beyond the glass skybridge, towards the faint summer clouds drifting lazily across the sky.

'Well, at least… my high school life will be a little more eventful.'