Chapter: 3 First Day at School {Re-write)

Renko observed as the receptionist ran her name through the student records, to see if Renko really was a student or not. Meanwhile, she wondered if whoever decided she deserved to be sent back to High School had any idea what she would give just to out of public spaces just about now. The Silence in the hallway was calming but also awkward as the girl named Hori had decided to tag along with her. 

"My bad, but what's your name again?"

Hori asked, looking up at Renko, cautious not to come off as rude. Maybe her question was if Renko wanted to look like a stuck-up bitch or if her face came with a permanent frown.

Renko didn't mind, she had been asked that question face-to-face by COs and asshats who had nothing better to do, she had grown used to it, or at least did before her face got messed up into a Frankenstein reenactment.

"It's Ivanovna, Renko Ivanovna."

Hori nodded, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

"That's a unique name. Russian? It's nice to meet you, Renko-san. If you need anyone to give you a tour of the building feel free to ask me."

Renko replied with a silent nod, still trying to process her new surroundings. She had just been dumped from a warzone to a freaking school with a pistol and nothing to hold her back,

'Bad thoughts.'

The receptionist finally finished looking through the documents and looking satisfied, she grinned at Renko,

"Renko Ivanovna, transfer from Tokyo High. Welcome to Katagiri Senior High. You're in classroom 3-1. Ms. Terajima is your homeroom teacher."

Renko nodded to show that she understood what the receptionist was saying and continued down the hallway to look for the map she had noticed while coming in, it was right next to the shoe lockers. It was a strange practice, but the students seemed to have a whole bunch of different shoes: one for inside the school, one for PT, and one for coming in and going out. Her own pair was already inside the locker; apparently, someone had sent it beforehand.

Her destination was on the third floor, the fifth room from the stairs, and the second from the fire exit. The map also showed a canteen on the ground floor and the nurse's office on the second. It was a standard school layout, one that she had seen multiple times before. Any sniper within 600m would have a clear shot at taking out just about anyone, these buildings put too much emphasis on design and ventilation. 

Renko frowned, her mind was straying in the wrong direction. 

For some reason, the chestnut-haired girl followed after her as she ascended the stairs. Was she a third year too? If so, shouldn't she have said something by now?

It wasn't until after she was standing in front of Classroom 3-1 that she understood why the girl was following her, they were classmates! Talk about sick.

"Surprise! We're in the same class!"

Hori flashed her a bright smile that dimmed as Renko's impassive face stared down at her. They were standing right outside the class, what was there to be surprised about? Wasn't it obvious?

"Uh... everyone's pretty nice, so there's no need to be ner-"

She stopped before finishing that word, Renko didn't look nervous. If anything, she looked bored with the whole affair,

"I-uh, gotta go."

Hori brushed past her and into the classroom, several voices greeted her before they died down to a murmured conversation. Renko waited outside, perhaps because of manner, or maybe she simply didn't wanna deal with a bunch of curious kids while she had a gun in her bag. 

Soon, the bell period rang. Renko was expecting something like that but it was still an annoyingly loud shrill. An instant later, she spotted a woman in a lab coat with shoulder-length bright brown hair tied in a ponytail hurrying in her direction. 

The lab coat either meant she was a teacher or some sort of administrative staff, which meant a superior-ranking offi- 'person.' Renko straightened up instinctively. 

The woman came to a screeching halt in front of her, placing a hand on Renko's shoulder, she panted heavily. Renko's hand twitched the moment she registered the physical contact. Her first instinct was to twist the arm and throw the person over her shoulder followed by a quick jab to the throat. The jab would be the fatal part, but she managed to reel herself in.

"S-so... you are Renko Ivan... right? I'm Ms. Terajima, your homeroom teacher. Welcome to 3-1."

Renko nodded, feeling slightly put off by the touchy nature of the teacher,

"Thank you."

"Shall we?"

Ms. Terajima gestured towards the classroom door.

As they walked in, the buzz of conversation died down instantly. Dozens of curious eyes turned their way, sizing up the new student. Renko disliked liked that particular feeling. It reminded her of how most people would react when they learned she was a sniper. Those expressions might have differed, but the message behind each one of them was always the same. 'Doubt,' 'Outsider,' 'Distrust,' and in the worst case, plain old 'hostility.'

No one likes a sniper, not even those from the same side. However, if she chose to, she could summarise all their insults with a single word: 'Coward.'

But this was different, the students were staring with more curiosity than scrutiny, though even that was somewhat uncomfortable.

Ms. Terajima stepped to the front of the room, clearing her throat before addressing them,

"Everyone, this is Renko Ivanovna, our new transfer student from Tokyo High. Please give her a warm welcome."

The introduction was followed by a polite round of applause, some students were more enthusiastic than the others. Renko pinpointed the source of the enthusiasm, a cluster of boys... typical. Hori was clapping too, particularly energetically, with a broad smile on her face.

"You can take a seat behind Ishikawa-san,"

Ms. Terajima said, pointing to an empty desk behind a purple-haired boy. This was new, she had never seen anyone with natural purple hair, plenty of dyed ones tho.

Renko nodded and made her way to the seat, carefully placing the duffle bag under the desk and taking a moment to compose herself. The classroom smelled of chalk and paper, much better than the smell of piss and blood coming off of the Special Ops she had offed.

As the day progressed, Renko observed everything with detached interest. While her brain was still trying to process how the hell she ended up in this place, she wondered if it was just an elaborate illusion her brain had conjured up after her death.

Most of the topics being taught were quite boring. Math problem? She was a goddamned sniper, she had done her fair share of calculation. Literature? Useless bullshit. Science? Do the books teach how to make IEDs? No? She knows how to.

But there was something that surprised her. It was history. 

The Soviet Union disbanded in the year 2011, a full two decades after the date she had been taught was the answer. However, as far as she knew, by the 2100s there would already be a New Soviet Union. Give or take a couple of decades. She knew that because her instructor was a New Soviet Sniper loaned to teach Guerrilla warfare to the Japanese Mountain Militia and she just happened to have a knack for putting holes in people from a safe distance.

Another surprising detail was the progress of the arms race. The USA and the Soviets had maintained steady progress until the collapse. However, in this world, the arms race ended early, and proper cyber warfare had yet to be organized. UAVs were just entering the arms market, and digital warfare was still considered a bit futuristic. 

They had smartphones but no cyber warfare? What a fucking joke.

The school day progressed in a blur as Renko kept her head down, preferring to remain an observer. Although initially annoying, her classmates reached a consensus to leave her alone after they got almost nothing out of her during the first two inter-period breaks. Although the girl Hori occasionally waved or made friendly gestures, Renko always answered with a slight tilt of her head and an apathetic nod.

During the lunch break, Renko managed to pick the lock to the school rooftop, it was a relatively easy one to pick. She found what she was looking for, a quiet hidden spot to look through her duffle bag once more.

She placed the bag in front of her and looked through the items one by one. The books were school textbooks; there was nothing too interesting about them except they didn't have any school markings or price stickers. The PT tracksuit looked comfortable enough, but it didn't even have her name or the tailor's name on it. 

As for the item she was most interested in, it was a Colt Government, a stainless steel Model 1911A1. A single-action, recoil-operated, semi-automatic pistol chambered with .45 ACP Hollow Point cartridges. Stainless steel from the frame to the magazine. Three fully loaded, seven-round stainless steel magazines and a box of 50 additional rounds.

The frame didn't have any cage codes, NSNs, or military markings, but it did have a parkerized finish and GI sights instead of a blued finish. She removed the magazine and cleared the chamber. She couldn't risk any misfires, especially not at a school. After considering it again, she decided to slide the pistol and ammunition into the tracksuit's pockets. It was followed shortly after by the tactical knife, a long handle full tang blade.

Diary, the worn leather diary from the bottom of the bag. She hesitated for a moment before opening it, flipping through the pages filled with near, precise handwriting. The entries began some five years ago, dated weekly, mundane stuff mostly, but it was the detailed life of Renko Ivanovna as she lived and breathed in a world of peace and plenty. Renko scoffed and shoved it back inside.

Then there was the bundle of letters, tied together with a cord. The bundle was thicker and heavier than she had initially thought. After breaking the cord, she unfolded the first letter, which turned out to be an envelope containing a passbook, a debit card, and a credit card, all with her name on them. The next one contained a leash form and a key, addressed to her with the details of the rental apartment she had rented, at least she finally learned where in Japan was she: Hanyū, Saitama.

Renko sighed, running her hand over her face, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information being shoved in front of her face. She tucked everything back into the duffle bag, taking a moment to process her situation. She had a place to stay and quite a bit of funds if the platinum card was anything to go by, but she had no clear idea as to what she was supposed to do with her life.

The wind on the rooftop felt real. It was cold and refreshing, unlike the toxic air filled with acidic fumes and chemical weapons that was accustomed to. As Renko leaned against the railing, she didn't dare peer over the edge, half-expecting it all to be a dream. The sensation was so unreal that she felt as though she might just wake up at any moment, back in the building with her scope trained on some poor bloke's head.

Suddenly, the door to the rooftop creaked open. Renko turned sharply, her hand instinctively reaching into the duffle bag, fiddling with the neatly folded tracksuit for the blade. It was Hori, the friendly girl from her class. She paused, blinking in surprise at finding someone else up there.

"I didn't think you'd be here,"

She said with a smile on her face.

"Mind if we join you?"

Behind her, a face popped up. It was another girl from the class. She had golden hair reaching down to her nape and large yellow eyes, also, she was wearing an oversized cardigan for some reason.

Renko hesitated but then again, it wasn't in her power to send them off somewhere, so she simply nodded and tried to relax a little. What's the worst a couple of High School girls could do?