Minato Mizuhara transfers from Kanagawa and perfectly plays the role of a bright, cheerful newcomer. He smiles at everyone, chats easily, and blends into the class. But on his first day, one girl sees through his mask: Akari Kajiwara, the ace of the judo club. She simply says, 'That laugh—you used the same one before.' Minato freezes, his fingertips turning cold.
From then on, they start walking home together. Beside the silent Akari, who asks nothing, Minato finds an odd comfort. He gradually
The Classroom Without Sunlight - The Masked Transfer Student and the Silence of the Judo Hall
From the window of the Enoshima Electric Railway, the sea came into view.
The April morning light sparkled across the surface of Sagami Bay. Each time the train rounded a curve, that light swayed at the edge of his vision. Mizuhara Minato, gripping the hanging strap, gazed absently at the scenery.
(It's beautiful.)
He thought so honestly. The sea had been close in his previous town in Kanagawa too, but he'd never seen it this near. The stations were close together, and the sea stretched out beyond the window the entire time. It must be a tourist area. There were families with suitcases in the car too.
But Minato's purpose wasn't sightseeing.
He pulled his smartphone from his pocket and opened the map app. On the screen: "Kugenuma-Kaigan Station." He'd get off here. Fifteen minutes on foot north from the station. Prefectural Kounan High School. The school he'd attend starting today.
The train decelerated and slid into a small station. It seemed to be an unmanned station. No one was on the platform. Minato adjusted his backpack and stepped out the moment the doors opened. He smelled the tide. A lukewarm breeze stirred his bangs.
(Well then.)
Minato passed through the station exit and began walking through the residential neighborhood. The streets were narrow, lined on both sides with old houses. A cat sat atop a concrete block wall. A white and brown calico. As Minato approached, the cat narrowed its eyes and looked at him.
"...Good morning."
When he called out quietly, the cat turned its face away and disappeared beyond the wall. Minato smiled just a little. That one was a real smile. Because no one was watching.
As he walked, he rehearsed today's plan in his head.
First day as a transfer student. Enter the classroom, get introduced by the homeroom teacher, give a self-introduction. His name, his previous school, his hobbies, and "please treat me well." How to smile then. The tone of his voice. How to distribute his gaze.
Watch the other person's expression. Listen to their voice. Gauge the distance. And then, choose the smile that fits the situation best.
It was a technique Minato had spent three years polishing. To survive at his previous school.
(This time, I'll do it right from the start.)
At his previous school, he'd failed at the very beginning. On his first day as a transfer student, he'd been too nervous to smile properly. That became the trigger for being labeled "the gloomy guy," and from there it was all downhill. Being ignored. Things going missing. Rumors. Quietly, gradually, he was worn down.
He never wanted to go through that again.
So this time, he'd be perfect from the start. A transfer student who's cheerful, pleasant, and can get along with anyone. Minato had practiced that role in his head over and over and over.
He traced the wristband wrapped around his right wrist with the fingers of his left hand. A habit. When he got nervous, he couldn't help doing it.
(It's fine. I can do this. I have no choice but to do it.)
The road to school was quieter than he'd expected. Even though it was a school route, he passed few students. Maybe everyone used bicycles or took different paths. Occasionally, he made eye contact with an old woman watering flowers in her garden.
"Good morning."
"Oh my, good morning. You're a face I haven't seen before. A transfer student?"
"Yes. Starting today at Kounan High School."
"Well now. That school has a beautiful view of the sea from the building. Do your best."
"Thank you."
While conversing, Minato observed the old woman's expression. How the wrinkles around her eyes creased. How the corners of her mouth lifted. No hostility. A voice reaching out purely from kindness.
(For people like this, responding cheerfully is the right answer.)
Minato smiled broadly, gave a light bow, and walked on.
Before long, the school gate came into view.
Prefectural Kounan High School. Founded forty-two years ago. Approximately eight hundred forty students. Above-average academic standing. Strong judo and baseball clubs. Minato had gathered as much information as he could beforehand.
The school building was four stories, with a well-maintained courtyard. Passing through the gate, the staff entrance stood directly ahead. Beyond it, he could see the glittering sea.
(The sea really is visible.)
Minato stopped in front of the gate and took one deep breath. Slowly, as if exchanging all the air in his lungs.
Then, he placed a smile on his lips.
Bright, approachable, but not too light. A perfect mask he'd practiced in front of the mirror countless times.
Minato straightened his back and passed through the school gate.
Class 2-3 was at the far end of the fourth floor.
When Minato stood before the classroom, he could hear the buzz of conversation from inside. That unique atmosphere before morning homeroom. Minato touched the wristband on his right wrist once, then opened the classroom door.
Instantly, every gaze in the class converged on him.
(Good.)
Minato nodded inwardly and smiled brightly.
Beside the podium stood his homeroom teacher, Fujii Rie. A twenty-nine-year-old Japanese language teacher. Wearing a composed navy suit and black-rimmed glasses. Her hair was trimmed to shoulder length, and her impression was "serious teacher." Minato judged that in an instant.
"Everyone, quiet down. Starting today, a transfer student is joining this class."
Fujii's voice smoothly quieted the classroom's murmuring.
"His name is Mizuhara Minato. He came from within Kanagawa Prefecture. Everyone, please be kind to him."
Minato stood beside the podium and surveyed the entire class. About thirty students. Roughly half boys and half girls. Everyone looked at him with eyes mixing curiosity and caution.
(Who among them is what type. First, read the overall atmosphere.)
Minato read the classroom's mood in an instant. Same as his previous school. Just being a transfer student meant being observed first. How well he'd be accepted from there was decided in the first five minutes.
"I'm Mizuhara Minato! I was in the basketball club at my previous school. I transferred here because I admired schools near the sea. Please treat me well!"
His voice slightly louder, cheerful. Not letting his smile falter. Distributing his gaze across the whole class, not staring at any one person.
The classroom relaxed with a sense of relief.
"Basketball club, huh." "Near the sea—what school are you from?"
Several boys raised their voices with interest. Minato smiled as if responding to them.
"I was at a school in the city next to Fujisawa before. I admired the Shonan sea."
"Whoa, nice."
"Well, our school's near the sea too."
Conversation was born. Riding that flow, Minato checked each person's expression.
The seat at the very back by the window.
A girl with a chestnut-colored short bob was the only one not looking at him, gazing out the window. Her bangs were cut evenly above her eyebrows, and her single-lidded black eyes looked at the distant sea. She was tall, her back straight.
(Is she in the judo club?)
Minato thought so. Her atmosphere was different from ordinary girls. Quiet, but with a presence.
But he didn't mind for now. Being accepted by the class as a whole was the top priority.
"Your seat is over there. The middle of the window row."
Minato headed to the seat Fujii pointed to. He set down his backpack, pulled out the chair, and sat. The boy at the neighboring desk glanced at him and gave a small bow.
"Nice to meet you."
"Yeah, nice to meet you!"
Minato returned it with a smile.
Homeroom began, and announcements were relayed. During that time too, Minato observed the class's atmosphere. Who was the central figure. Who was quiet. How the groups were structured.
(This class is relatively calm.)
Less tension than his previous school. But that might only be on the surface. Minato wouldn't let his guard down.
When break time came, several boys gathered at Minato's desk.
"Mizuhara, what did you do at your previous school?"
"I told you, basketball club."
"Oh right. What position?"
"Point guard! I'm short, so my job is passing from the outside."
"Whoa, so are you joining our basketball club?"
"I'm thinking about it! But I'm still not used to this town yet."
The conversation livened up. Minato nodded along, laughed, and occasionally cracked jokes. Choosing topics while watching the other person's reactions.
"Mizuhara-kun seems nice."
He heard a voice like that from a group of girls. Minato pretended not to hear and kept talking with the other boys.
(Good. So far, it's going well.)
He felt relieved inside. But he didn't let his guard down. Every break, he made smiles, joined conversations, and read reactions. Through that repetition, Minato's stamina was steadily being shaved away.
By the time third period ended, he was already quite exhausted.
(And it's still only morning.)
Minato endured the urge to slump onto his desk and copied the board notes into his notebook. His hand was trembling slightly. He gripped the wristband on his right wrist tightly with his left hand.
Suddenly, feeling a gaze, he looked up.
The very back by the window. The girl from earlier was looking at him. Her single-lidded black eyes captured Minato directly.
(...?)
Minato reflexively smiled.
At that, she showed no reaction and returned her gaze to the window.
(What was that?)
Minato felt slightly hung up on it. But he stopped thinking deeply about it. For now, fitting into the class came first.
Lunch break.
Minato was invited by several boys and ate lunch together in the cafeteria. The menu centered on set meals, and Minato ordered katsu curry.
"Mizuhara, where's your place?"
"Near Kugenuma-Kaigan Station. An apartment called Nagisa-so."
"Ah, that place. It's close to the sea. Nice."
"But it's thirty-five years old and run-down. Rent's fifty-eight thousand yen."
"Cheap! But if it's near the sea, that's fine."
"Well, that's true, but."
Minato laughed while bringing curry to his mouth. The taste was average.
"By the way, the girl at the back by the window. What club is she in?"
He asked casually.
"Oh, Kajiwara? She's the ace of the judo club."
"She's won the prefectural tournament before. Amazing, right?"
"Wow, that's impressive."
Minato nodded along while noting the name "Kajiwara" in his head.
"She doesn't talk much, but she's scary when you piss her off, so watch out."
"What's that? Have you fought her?"
"No, no. But she's kind of hard to approach."
"Yeah, true. She's beautiful, but hard to talk to."
Minato kept eating curry while laughing.
(Kajiwara. Judo club ace. Doesn't talk much.)
He stored that information in a drawer of his mind.
The afternoon classes were painful for Minato.
Not sleepy—rather, mental fatigue kept piling up. Maintaining a smile used more energy than he'd thought. His facial muscles hurt. His eyes dried out.
(Just a little more. Just a little more until school's out.)
Minato told himself.
The chime signaling the end of sixth period rang, and Minato let out a relieved breath.
"Mizuhara, wanna stop somewhere on the way home?"
To the boy who called out to him, Minato waved with a smile.
"Sorry, I still have unpacking to do today. Next time!"
"Oh, see you then."
"See you tomorrow."
Minato shouldered his backpack and left the classroom.
The hallway was crowded with students heading home. Minato rode the flow of people toward the staff entrance.
That's when it happened.
"Mizuhara."
A low voice called his name from behind.
Minato turned around.
Kajiwara Akari stood there. Chestnut short bob. Single-lidded black eyes. Her uniform was worn properly, her skirt neither too long nor too short. She was slightly taller than Minato. Probably 170 centimeters.
"...What?"
Minato responded with a smile.
Akari stared intently at Minato's face.
"That smile you used earlier—you've used the same one before."
Those words pierced Minato's chest.
(What?)
Minato f
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