Canvas of Silent Colors

The stage lights rose in a warm golden glow, stretching shadows across the polished floor as the curtains parted. A hush swept through the hall. The rows of first-year students fell silent, save for a few who still whispered in hushed excitement.

"Wait… isn't that Momoshiro Chiyoko?" someone near the front murmured, their voice tinged with awe. Another leaned closer to their friend, eyes wide. "She's the one from those commercials, right? The rising actress?"

At the podium stood a girl with flawless posture. Her short, dark hair framed her delicate face neatly, brushing just above her shoulders. Even from this distance, her pale skin and poised expression stood out, carrying a quiet confidence that felt almost ethereal under the stage lights. Her dark eyes scanned the crowd calmly, focused yet gentle.

She tapped the microphone lightly. The feedback crackled softly before she spoke in a clear, steady voice.

"Good morning, everyone," she began, dipping her head politely. "I'm Momoshiro Chiyoko from the Student Council Event PR team, and I'll be your MC for today's club demonstration."

A quiet stir passed through the hall at the mention of her name. Some students shifted in their seats, leaning forward with eyes gleaming. A real actress, here in the same uniform as them. For a moment, the exhaustion from orientation faded into hushed wonder.

I noticed Tomoya stiffen beside me. His shoulders eased just slightly, and he lifted his head to watch Chiyoko-senpai, a faint glimmer of excitement flickering in his eyes.

But then he glanced sideways at Eriri. Her face remained turned away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Whatever light had entered his expression faded. He lowered his gaze to the program booklet again, shoulders curling inward as if to disappear.

Beside him, Eriri let out a quiet, dismissive scoff. Their tension prickled at the edge of my focus, but I pushed it aside.

On stage, the principal stepped forward. His speech was short and formal, delivered with the weary cadence of someone who had spoken these words countless times before.

A greeting, an encouragement to explore Suimei's many opportunities, and a closing line spoken almost mechanically:

"May you each find the place where your heart belongs."

He stepped back, nodding once to Chiyoko-senpai before leaving the spotlight. She turned back to the microphone, her expression warm but her eyes sharp with purpose.

"Thank you, Principal.

"Now, please welcome," Chiyoko-senpai announced, her voice remaining calm despite the rising buzz among students, "the President of Suimei High School's Student Council… Fujisaki Yusuke."

A beat of silence fell.

Then the stage curtain parted fully—and chaos, in the shape of a single boy, erupted onto the stage.

"YO! FIRST YEARS!" The googled boy yelled into the microphone, practically vibrating with energy as he raised a fist triumphantly. "I'm Bossun! Or, well, Fujisaki Yusuke, your beloved Student Council President, but call me Bossun—because that's way cooler, right?!"

A deafening silence swallowed the hall, followed almost immediately by a burst of stunned murmurs as everyone struggled to process what they were seeing.

Because behind him… wasn't just the standard student council setup.

The entire stage had been transformed into what could only be described as an impromptu festival booth. Multi-coloured banners painted with his messy brushwork fluttered along the background, reading things like "Welcome to High School Adventure!" and "No Regrets! Live It Up!".

There were cardboard cut-outs of random things—a giant takoyaki ball with googly eyes, a dramatic cardboard sword, and even a painted rocket ship propped diagonally as if about to launch.

And standing proudly to one side… was a makeshift game stall.

Complete with tiny ring toss hoops and prizes apparently confiscated from the lost and found, each tagged with neon sticky notes declaring things like "NEW OWNER NEEDED!" or "MYSTERY ITEM! TRY YOUR LUCK!"

As if that wasn't enough, suddenly a triumphant electronic jingle erupted from the auditorium speakers—like the opening theme to some retro hero show, bright and bold with synth trumpets and electric guitar riffs.

I blinked in stunned disbelief as the upbeat soundtrack continued to blast across the hall, perfectly timed with President's wild gestures. Did… did he plan background music for his speech too?

Glancing up at the tech booth, I spotted a second or third-year sound engineer boy with headphones on, sweating bullets as he frantically adjusted the audio controls, eyes darting between President on stage and a scribbled note taped to the mixer reading.

Beside President, the blonde girl stomped forward, her fists clenched and trembling with fury, her ponytail whipping behind her like an angry comet

"BOSSUNNNNNN!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice ringing across the entire auditorium with terrifying clarity. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT?! THIS IS NOT A FESTIVAL, THIS IS A CLUB DEMONSTRATION!!!"

He just laughed sheepishly, scratching his cheek with one finger. "Eh-heh… but it's more fun this way, right?"

The entire student council behind him groaned in unison.

Beside him, the bespectacled boy massaged the bridge of his nose, glasses slipping slightly as he exhaled a long, exhausted sigh. "This is… beyond help."

The tall boy with a laptop hanging in his neck typed furiously, and his voice synthesizer announced to the entire auditorium, "Behold: The Idiocy of Man."

The quiet girl with sleek hair and a polite smile twitched slightly, as if fighting between laughing or crying. Meanwhile, Chiyoko-senpai who still standing calmly near the podium, pressed her hand lightly to her lips, her shoulders trembling as she hid a small, amused smile.

But the president didn't care. He was in his element.

"Alright, listen up!" he shouted, pointing at the first years with a dramatic sweep of his arm. "High school isn't just about grades and homework! It's about FUN, CHALLENGES, and FINDING YOURSELF! So today, before you pick your clubs, come try your luck at the Ultimate First Year Challenge Booth! Free to play, prizes included!"

He gestured grandly to the stall behind him, practically glowing with pride.

The first-years sat in stunned silence, some blinking rapidly, others letting out awkward bursts of laughter.

Even Tomoya, who had curled up into quiet gloom, now sat upright, his eyes wide in startled confusion.

When he glanced sideways at Eriri, as if searching for confirmation that this was real, she merely gaped at the stage, her carefully maintained mask cracked open in utter disbelief.

I sighed inwardly as I watched from my seat.

'Bossun never changes…'

But then, seeing the shy smiles blooming on some nervous first-years' faces, the awed giggles rippling through the front rows, I felt my lips twitch upwards.

'This is anime world,' I reminded myself again, exhaling slowly as the bright lights flickered against my eyes.

'This is a new world… I need to remember that.'

And with that thought, I closed my eyes briefly, letting out a quiet, resigned sigh.

Bossun-senpai scratched the back of his head, sweat dropping under the blonde girl murderous glare and the vice president's cold stare that practically screamed "Get back on script before I end you."

"Ahaha… o-okay, okay, everyone calm down!" Bossun-senpai said quickly, waving his hands in a placating gesture. The hero soundtrack abruptly cut off with an awkward electronic squeak as the sound engineer scrambled to kill the audio.

He cleared his throat dramatically, attempting to regain dignity that never existed in the first place.

"Right! First years, let me properly introduce your amazing student council, yeah?" He puffed out his chest, eyes gleaming behind his goggles. "They're the people who keep this school running while I… y'know, bring the spice of life or whatever."

A collective groan rose from his council behind him.

"ANYWAY!" Bossun-senpai pointed grandly to his right, gesturing to a tall boy with dark, slicked-back hair and sharp eyes hidden behind thin glasses. "This is our ever-serious and scarily capable Vice President, Sumiji Kurokami! He keeps everything organized and… uh, makes sure my head stays attached to my neck."

Sumiji-senpai simply pushed his glasses up with a cool glare, muttering, "And it's getting harder every day." After that, he glances to everyone in auditorium, "Sumiji Kurokami. Vice President. Behave yourselves," he said simply, his voice calm and low, earning an immediate hush from the rows of students.

Bossun-senpai laughed nervously and shuffled sideways, pointing to the next member—a girl with immaculate short hair and calm eyes, standing gracefully with her clipboard. She bowed slightly to the crowd.

"And this is… Event PR and today's MC, Momoshiro-san. You've already seen her in action. Super reliable, yeah?"

Chiyoko-senpai gave a graceful bow, her serene expression unchanged. "Momoshiro Chiyoko. Event PR. It's an honour to guide you today," she said softly, her calm, resonant tone melting through the crowd like gentle music.

Next, Bossun-senpai gestured to the petite girl clutching her notepad to her chest, her eyes flicking nervously between her shoes and the microphone.

"Our brilliant yet shy Secretary, Kei Yonagi!"

Kei flinched slightly at the attention, her soft black hair falling around her face as she bowed her head. "Kei Yonagi… Secretary," she murmured, almost inaudible. Even so, a few students leaned forward, captivated by her quiet presence.

Bossun-senpai gave her a thumbs-up before sweeping dramatically towards the boy with spiky hair and glasses glowing under the stage lights.

"And this here is our data master, Usui Kazuyoshi! But everyone calls him Switch! Treasurer!"

Uzui-senpai didn't move, merely pressing a button on the tablet strapped to his chest. His speech synthesizer crackled out his greeting in a crisp monotone. "Usui Kazuyoshi. Treasurer." Some students blinked in surprise at the robotic voice, while others nodded appreciatively at the tech.

Finally, Bossun-senpai turned to the girl who was already cracking her knuckles with a murderous glint in her eyes.

"And… well… y-you already know who keeps us all in line, Onizuka Hime, our Disciplinary Officer!"

"Quit adding useless crap to my intro, you idiot!" she snapped, punching the stand with a heavy THUD that echoed across the hall. A chorus of gasps rose as she stepped forward with narrowed eyes.

"Onizuka Hime. Disciplinary Officer. Don't give me trouble," she said flatly before glaring sideways at Bossun-senpai. "And you—stick to the schedule."

He shrank back slightly with an awkward laugh, scratching his cheek. "Aha… r-right…"

I watched silently, feeling the tension in the air settle into a stunned hush as Bossun-senpai turned back to the microphone, confidence returning instantly.

"So there you have it, first years! Your student council!"

Bossun-senpai let the cheer linger for a moment, lowering the microphone slightly as his grin softened into something warmer.

"But hey… one last thing," he said, his tone still upbeat but carrying a subtle sincerity that cut through his earlier chaos. He looked across the rows of wide-eyed students, his eyes glinting with conviction under the golden lights.

"As long as we're here… don't ever stop creating. Keep dreaming. And above all—have fun, okay?"

A hush fell over the hall at his words. Even with his goofy posture and casual grin, there was no mistaking the quiet force behind them.

Then, with his trademark bright smile, he raised the microphone again.

"Welcome to Suimei High! I really hope… you'll have a fun and meaningful time here."

For a heartbeat, silence hung suspended. Then applause erupted from every corner of the auditorium, loud and genuine. Some first years even rose from their seats, clapping with sparkles in their eyes as if they'd just watched the opening scene of an anime they would never forget.

Beside me, Tomoya hesitated before clapping slowly, his gaze still fixed ahead. Eriri folded her arms stubbornly, but even she let out a tiny huff of acknowledgment before joining in with polite applause.

I smiled faintly, clapping along with them,

'This kind of introduction… it'll leave a lasting memory. It makes the student council feel approachable. Human. Like they're not just distant upperclassmen… but seniors we can actually rely on.'

I glanced at the student council lined behind him. Their tired sighs and resigned head-shakes… but none of them walked away. None of them looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. There was exasperation, yes—but it was threaded with unspoken trust.

He's ridiculous… but he's ours. Their eyes seemed to say it without words. And that's enough.

As the applause faded and the lights dimmed for the main event, I allowed myself a small sigh of relief.

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

The stage lights shifted, signaling the start of the club demonstrations.

One by one, groups emerged onto the platform or performed along the wide open floor in front of the stage. I watched in quiet curiosity, scanning the banners and uniforms as each club introduced themselves with brief, practiced speeches or flashy demonstrations.

Baseball, swimming, basketball, and soccer. The usual pillars of any Japanese high school.

Their captains stepped forward with confident smiles, their team members lined up behind them like an honor guard. The track club showcased a short relay baton pass, moving with crisp efficiency.

Even the karate club gave a demonstration – sharp kiai's ringing through the hall as their ace member split three stacked boards in a single downward strike.

National team-level talent It seems. Not unexpected, considering Suimei's prestige. Students here didn't just create with paintbrushes or instruments. Physical skill was its own art too.

But then came the clubs that set Suimei apart.

Art club, calligraphy, movie club, fashion, digital media studies, and many more. Each one presenting slides of their recent works, their members bowing politely as illustrations, scripts, and short videos flickered across the screen behind them.

Their eyes burned with quiet passion even as they tried to keep formal posture.

There were the more casual circles too – gardening, cooking, tea ceremonies. Small groups who smiled shyly at the crowd, holding up arrangements of potted herbs or perfectly rolled tamagoyaki like trophies. Clubs that felt… comforting, in a way.

As I scanned the hall, I could see it in the students around me. The way they leaned forward in their seats, whispering to each other with eyes bright with possibility. That earlier introduction… it really set the tone. Made everything feel a little less intimidating. A little more reachable.

Even Tomoya, who'd been silent and guarded ever since he saw Eriri, seemed to soften. His shoulders still stiff under his uniform blazer, but his gaze was moving with each presentation now.

"Hey… Ren," he whispered suddenly.

I turned, leaning closer so he wouldn't have to raise his voice. "Yeah?"

He hesitated, glancing briefly toward Eriri, who sat with perfect, unbreakable composure beside him, before leaning closer to me.

"…That student council introduction just now…" Tomoya whispered, his eyes still on the stage. "It was… I mean… crazy. And unique. Definitely unique."

I smiled faintly. "And that's exactly what made it work," I murmured back, tilting my head slightly toward him. "Look around, Tomoya. Everyone's paying attention. They're actually eager to join a club now."

He fell silent, glancing around as if noticing it for the first time—the buzz of whispers, the excited tapping of feet, eyes bright with possibilities dancing across the demonstrations.

"…Yeah," he said softly.

I let the quiet linger for a moment before leaning in a little closer. "So… Literature Club, huh? Are you sure?"

He stiffened slightly. "Wh-What do you mean?"

I gestured subtly toward the stage, where the literature club's members had bowed earlier with perfectly practiced form, their works displayed in neat, professionally printed anthologies. "They looked pretty serious. Some of them already have short stories published. You know… you can't just sit around doing nothing and hope your advisor never checks in."

His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "I-I know that! I… I'm not planning to slack off or anything…"

I raised an eyebrow, amused. "Really?" I tilted my head slightly, a small teasing smile curling at my lips. "Because if I remember correctly… before the event started, didn't you say you wanted to choose literature club so you could slack off like in middle school?"

His face turned red instantly. "T-That was…! I was just…!" He clenched his fists on his knees, glaring at the stage to avoid meeting my eyes. "…Just shut up, Ren."

I chuckled softly, leaning back in my seat.

Tomoya shifted beside me, his eyes flicking down to the club pamphlet on his lap before glancing back at the stage. A sly grin tugged at his lips.

"…Still, you were staring pretty hard at the cooking club demonstration earlier."

I blinked, then shrugged lightly. "Yeah, You know it already Tomoya. I like cooking. It's my hobby."

He leaned in a little, smirk growing, "What, already planning tomorrow's lunch menu for us?"

I blinked once, then shrugged lightly. "Yeah. Is there a problem with wanting to make sure what you're eating actually tastes good?"

He let out a small laugh, leaning back. "Man… you're like some reliable dad or something."

I raised an eyebrow at him calmly. "Keep talking like that and maybe I'll stop bringing you lunch forever."

His smile froze instantly. "W-Wait—no, I'm sorry, okay?! Seriously… don't do that…"

His voice rose louder than before, echoing faintly across the rows. A few students in front turned to glance back in mild annoyance. Before I could say anything, a sharp, cool voice cut in from our left.

"Can you two keep it down?"

Eriri didn't bother turning fully toward us. Her gaze stayed fixed ahead, posture perfect, eyes focused intently on the stage where the anime research club's slideshow played. She didn't spare even a flicker of acknowledgment in our direction.

It was as if Tomoya didn't exist at all.

Tomoya froze. His shoulders stiffened, and he immediately dropped his gaze to his knees, clenching his fists so tight I could see the tremble in his knuckles. Not a single word came out of him – he simply sat there, unmoving, as if curling in on himself.

I glanced at him for a moment, then turned back to Eriri with a faint, polite smile. "…Sorry about that."

She didn't respond, simply flicking her hair lightly over her shoulder as though brushing away an invisible speck of dust. Her eyes never left the stage.

Beside me, Tomoya remained silent, his bangs shadowing his eyes. The easy banter from seconds ago felt miles away now.

Silent.

Just like earlier when he first saw Eriri.

Not saying a single word.

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

"Alright, that's it for today's demonstration!" Bossun-senpai's voice boomed brightly through the microphone, still carrying that energetic force from earlier.

He gave a lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as Uzui-senpai muttered something into his ear, ignored completely. "Haha, yeah yeah, I know I talked too much… Anyway! First years – find what makes you excited, okay? That's an order from your amazing student council president!"

A chorus of "YESSS!!" and cheers ran through the hall. He raised his fist up high with a grin wide enough to eclipse the stage lights behind him.

"Let's make this year awesome together!" Bossun-senpai shouted.

"Please stand, bow." The teacher's firm voice cut in after Bossun-senpai stepped back.

Chairs scraped against the floor in near-perfect unison as the sea of students stood, bowed deeply, and began shuffling out of the auditorium row by row. Excited whispers about clubs rising and falling with each passing group.

Eriri stood too, her movements sharp and practiced, ponytail swaying slightly as she turned to leave. She didn't spare a single glance toward Tomoya or me, her eyes fixed ahead with practiced indifference. Her footsteps faded with the crowd, absorbed into the mass of navy blazers and chattering voices.

I remained seated, hands folded neatly on my lap, watching as one by one the seats emptied. The smell of polished wood and faint cologne lingered in the still air.

Tomoya didn't move. From the start of Eriri's sudden cut-in to now, he hadn't said a word. His bangs shadowed his eyes completely, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched tightly on his knees. He didn't even glance at the stage again, as if the entire world had shrunk into a small, unreachable space within him.

The last of the chatter drifted out the wide auditorium doors, leaving only the hum of the overhead lights.

I turned slightly toward him. "Tomoya."

He flinched at his name. Slowly, almost mechanically, he looked up at me. His gaze wavered, unfocused and tense.

"…It's over," I said softly, nodding toward the empty stage. "The demonstration. We should head to class."

For a moment, his lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. Then, with stiff and awkward movements, he stood up, "…Y-Yeah. Let's… go."

We walked out together, our footsteps echoing softly in the silent hall.

For a while, we didn't talk about anything.

The corridor was bright and filled with the low hum of other students heading back to their classes, their laughter and chatter echoing faintly against the walls. Beside me, Tomoya walked in silence, his shoulders stiff and his eyes fixed straight ahead.

I could tell something was weighing heavily on him.

I didn't need to ask to know it had to do with her.

"…You know her?" I asked quietly after a few moments, my tone kept calm and casual, though I already suspected the truth. "That twin-tailed blonde girl."

His pace faltered for half a second – a tiny break in his guarded rhythm.

He didn't look at me. "…No. Not really."

His voice was low, flat, almost rehearsed.

It was an obvious lie, but I simply watched him from the corner of my eye.

He's not ready. That's fine.

I wasn't here to force him to speak about wounds he wasn't ready to reopen.

I just smiled faintly, turning my gaze forward again as we walked on together through the corridor bathed in morning light. "I see."

After that, silence comes back to the hallways.

Saekano.

I remembered that name from my past life. It was one of those harem anime titles that always popped up in recommendations, but I never watched it. Harem stories just… weren't my thing. I didn't care about watching a bunch of girls revolve around one clueless guy.

I preferred stories with characters who felt real, with emotions that cut deep and choices that left marks, whether it was a grounded slice-of-life or a grim battlefield, I wanted something that engaged me, not just… empty wish fulfilment.

Still, I'd seen a few clips here and there. Enough to recognize Eriri's twin tails and blonde hair. Enough to know she was the beautiful and talented childhood friend type with sharp words and awkward affection. But I didn't know the ending. Never cared about who Tomoya chose.

At first, I thought I'd reincarnated into Sakurasou. Everything pointed to it, the school, the uniform, Sakurasou dorm itself, and Mashiro's existence.

But then I saw Tomoya, and then Eriri, and Bossun leading the student council like he'd stepped out of SKET Dance and claimed a podium here. Kei Yonagi too, with her silent presence and haunting eyes. I think I know her from the stopped manga series because some scandal involving the author.

It felt… surreal. Like this world wasn't just Sakurasou, but a strange mashup of anime characters stitched together under one sky.

My mind wandered to Eriri back at the auditorium. Her acting wasn't flawless. Not like Mashiro's. Mashiro felt unreal, so perfect it was unsettling, like a doll sculpted without human flaws. But Eriri… she was just a teenager, wasn't she?

The mask she wore felt heavy on her shoulders. Her expression management was good, her posture believable, but there were moments when her eyes flickered or her fingers twitched. Subtle tells that slipped out before she reined them back in.

She wasn't talentless at acting, She just wasn't natural at it.

She tried to pretend she hadn't seen Tomoya. Tried to pretend he wasn't even there. But even from this distance, even without knowing their past, it was obvious. There was something there. Something bitter, something raw.

I exhaled softly, feeling the warmth of the corridor lights on my skin. Possibilities and scenarios threaded themselves through my mind, assembling quiet deductions. She didn't hate him. That wasn't it. People who hated someone didn't look so fragile when ignoring them.

But I didn't say any of that out loud. Not now. Tomoya wasn't ready to hear it.

Instead, I glanced at him, his shoulders still tense and eyes shadowed.

"…Sorry about earlier," I murmured quietly. My voice came out softer than I intended. "Didn't mean to push your buttons like that."

He didn't respond. Just kept walking, fists clenched at his sides.

So I simply walked beside him in silence, letting the quiet settle between us like a gentle mist.