Fresh Start?

Hunter carried box after box into the house,

his hoodie damp with sweat. His neighbors'

stares felt like laser beams on his back,

amplifying his discomfort. To drown it out,

he shoved his headphones into his ears and turned up the volume.

The music thumped in his ears,

a temporary escape from the murmurs and

subtle side-eyes around him.

("They're probably thinking,

'Look at the new kid. Clumsy and slow.' Great first impression)."

Hunter thought bitterly,

adjusting the box in his hands.

He picked up his pace,

determined to finish as quickly as possible.

Roger stood by the car,

holding a smaller box.

He watched Hunter zip past,

eyebrows raised in amused disbelief.

"What's gotten into him?" he asked,

glancing at Stephany.

Stephany shrugged, her arms crossed.

"Maybe he's just motivated."

Roger smirked, clearly unconvinced.

"Motivated? Steph, what did you say to him?

Come on, spill it.

Did you hit him with a 'Move faster,

or no dinner tonight'?"

Stephany rolled her eyes,

placing a hand on her hip.

"All I said was, 'Don't get distracted,

and keep bringing the boxes in.' That's it.

Stop trying to make me the villain here."

As if on cue, Hunter zoomed past again,

grabbing the box from Roger's

hands and adding it to his growing pile.

"Now look what you did," Roger teased,

leaning closer to Stephany, his grin widening.

"I didn't do anything!" Stephany shot back,

her voice defensive but laced with amusement.

"You're such a bully," Roger said,

smirking as he shifted his stance,

deliberately moving closer.

Stephany raised an eyebrow at him,

her playful irritation evident.

"Drop it, or you're fired," she said,

trying to maintain her composure but failing to hide her smile.

Roger leaned in, his voice dropping to a playful tone.

"Last time I checked baby,

I'm technically above you when it comes

to this part of the job."

Without warning, he grabbed her by the waist,

pulling her closer.

Stephany yelped as she found herself turned around,

her back pressed against him.

"Roger!" she hissed,

her voice half-aroused,

half-laughing.

"See?" Roger teased,

grinning as he leaned in close to her ear.

"This is called teamwork."

Stephany's cheeks flushed a deep red,

and she thrust her hips back,

bumping him just hard enough to make him step back.

"Not yet," she said, her tone playful but firm.

Roger chuckled, straightening up.

"Oh, you're saving it for the next episode?

Got it."

Stephany rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her smile.

"Exactly. Next episode. Stay tuned," she said with a wink.

"Oh, you're on," Roger replied,

his grin widening as he turned back toward the car.

Meanwhile, Hunter,

oblivious to their exchange thanks to his music,

continued carrying boxes with renewed determination.

His thoughts churned as he tried to drown out everything around him.

"(This move sucks. The stares suck. This whole situation sucks.)"

he thought, his steps quickening as he carried the last box inside.

His body moved on autopilot,

but his mind was stuck replaying every awkward

glance and whispered word he imagined the

neighbors were sharing about him.

Finally, he dropped the last box onto the floor

of his room and sat on the edge of his bed,

his headphones still blaring. The music helped,

but it couldn't completely silence the weight in his chest.

He stared at the ceiling, the unfamiliar surroundings

only making his thoughts heavier.

"(Why didn't they even ask me before uprooting my life?)"

he wondered, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"(I didn't even get a say)."

Outside, Roger and Stephany loaded the last few boxes

into the house, their earlier banter fading as they

shifted their focus back to settling into their new home.

But for Hunter, the house still felt anything but home. Hunter sat on the edge of his bed,

the weight in his chest tightening like a vice.

His room, still packed with boxes and scattered photos,

felt foreign and unwelcoming.

His mind raced as he tried to find

something—anything—that could ease the

ache of homesickness creeping into his thoughts.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed Kenny's number.

The line rang once, then twice before cutting straight to voicemail.

Figures, Hunter thought, his lips twisting in

mild frustration.

(Kenny's probably busy—or his mom confiscated his phone again).

He hesitated, thumb hovering over Jessica's name in his contacts.

(What would I even say to her)?

His hand trembled slightly, and he clenched his jaw.

A mixture of excitement and dread pulsed through him.

(Pick up, Kelvin. Please).

He shifted to dial Kelvin instead,

pressing the phone to his ear.

The phone rang, each tone stretching longer

in his mind than it should. Then, a click.

"Hello?" Kelvin's voice came through, easy and relaxed.

"Hey, what's up?" Hunter replied,

trying to mask the relief in his

tone with forced casualness.

"Not much. Just chilling at the park," Kelvin said.

"How's it going on your end? Did you make it there safely?"

There was a faint concern laced in his tone,

though he tried to hide it.

"Yeah, I made it," Hunter said,

pacing as his fingers idly fiddled with one of the

photos he had unpacked earlier.

"Just… calling to check in.

See how you and everyone else are doing."

"Oh man, we're good. Everything's chill,"

Kelvin replied. "Nothing major's happened.

We all went to Brixton Park for a bit.

Kenny left early, though."

Hunter chuckled softly. "Sounds about right.

His mom probably called him back before it got too dark.

She's always been the overprotective type."

"As she should but yeah," Kelvin agreed, his voice tinged with amusement.

"But get this—Jessica went to the bathroom a while ago,

and she still hasn't come out.

Not sure what she's doing, but knowing her,

she's probably just vibing in there or something."

Hunter paused mid-step.

"How long has she been in there? Is she okay?"

"I think so," Kelvin replied.

"I mean, it's Jessica. She's on the weird side,

but I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Yeah, let me know if anything happens,"

Hunter said, brushing his thumb over the photo in his hand.

"I've still got a ton of unpacking to do,

so I can't stay on too long."

Kelvin hesitated briefly before adding,

"Wanna hear something wild?"

"What's up?" Hunter asked,

his curiosity piqued.

"When you left,

Kenny and Jessica both started crying,"

Kelvin revealed, chuckling lightly.

Hunter froze, the words hitting him harder than expected.

"Wait… what? Are you serious?"

Kelvin's laugh grew louder.

"Yeah, man. They were bawling their eyes out.

They're fine now, but it was honestly hilarious.

I mean, I've never seen Kenny cry like that."

Despite himself, Hunter smiled.

A warmth pushed through the heavy cloud hanging over him.

"That… actually makes me happy," he admitted, his voice softer.

"Things are gonna be so different without me there."

"No doubt," Kelvin said.

"It already feels off.

Anyway, hit me back later when you're free."

"Will do," Hunter replied.

"I'm gonna finish unpacking."

"Shii, alright. Later, man,"

Kelvin said before the line disconnected.

Hunter stared at the screen for a moment longer,

Kelvin's words echoing in his mind.

(They cried?) The thought should've made him feel better,

but it only deepened the ache in his chest.

He set the phone down on the bed,

his gaze drifting to the scattered photos.

Jessica's face stood out among them.

(She's the sensitive type.

What if she's still upset? What if she's in that bathroom,

crying?) His heart twisted at the thought.

But then another thought slithered into his mind,

uninvited and unwelcome. (What if Kelvin—)

Hunter shook his head violently,

cutting the thought off before it could take root.

(No. Kelvin's not that type of guy.)

But doubt lingered like a shadow. (Still… what if—)

"Stop it!" Hunter yelled internally,

his fists clenching as he rolled onto the floor,

trying to fight the intrusive thoughts.

(Kelvin would never.

Just drop it. Don't be an idiot.)

His breathing steadied, but the unease lingered.

He pressed his hands against his forehead,

his fingers digging into his scalp.

(Why did we have to leave? Why now? Why like this?)

Hunter lay there for a while,

staring at the ceiling as his emotions churned.

Regret. Longing. Frustration. All of it swirled together,

heavy and unrelenting. Finally,

he pushed himself up and turned his attention

back to the mountain of boxes waiting for him.

(Just focus on unpacking. One step at a time,)

he told himself, trying to suppress the whirlwind

of emotions threatening to consume him. But deep down,

the ache refused to fade entirely,

a reminder of the life he had left behind. Hunter sat on the edge of his bed,

staring blankly at the scattered photos

and unopened boxes that littered his room.

His mind swirled with unspoken thoughts,

emotions tangling into an incomprehensible mess.

Before he could dive too deeply into the chaos,

a sharp knock on the door startled him,

making him jump slightly.

"Hunter?" came Stephany's voice,

warm and cheerful on the other side.

He hesitated,

running a hand through his hair before

trudging over to open the door.

His mother stood there,

leaning casually against the frame with her trademark

gentle smile. Her arms were crossed,

but there was a glimmer of

something mischievous in her eyes.

"You've got some company," she announced,

her voice brighter than his mood.

"A few of the neighbors stopped by to say hi."

Hunter groaned inwardly,

leaning heavily on the doorframe.

"I don't know, Mom. I just got here,

and I'm really not in the mood to talk to anyone."

Stephany tilted her head,

her smile unwavering as she gave him

a soft nudge on the shoulder.

"Don't be like that. It's rude to ignore them,

especially when they're trying to make you

feel welcome. Come on, first impressions matter!"

Hunter sighed, a deep, exaggerated sound

that seemed to drain his whole body of energy.

"I really don't feel like—"

"Hunter," she cut him off gently but firmly.

Her tone softened as she studied his face,

catching the jumble of emotions

he wasn't saying out loud. "I get it.

This is a lot all at once. But trust me,

meeting them might actually help.

It'll make this place feel a little less… foreign."

He frowned, his resolve wavering.

Stephany reached out, resting a comforting hand on his arm.

"Look, just give it a try, okay?

You don't have to be best friends with them right away.

Just… say hi."

Hunter met her eyes, seeing the sincerity behind her words.

Even though he wanted to retreat back into the safe bubble of his room,

he respected her too much to outright refuse.

"Fine," he muttered,

his voice tinged with reluctant defeat.

Stephany's grin widened,

as if she'd just won a small victory.

"That's my boy!" she chirped,

ruffling his hair affectionately.

Hunter groaned, ducking away from her hand.

"Alright, alright, don't push it,"

he said, but there was a faint

trace of amusement in his tone.

She stepped aside, motioning for him to head toward the front door.

"They're waiting outside.

Go show them what a charmer you are."

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled,

dragging his feet down the hallway.

As he passed her,

he heard her voice behind him,

light and teasing.

"And Hunter?"

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder.

"Don't embarrass us,"

she added with a wink.

Hunter rolled his eyes,

though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"No promises," he called back,

already steeling himself for whatever

awkward interaction lay ahead.

Stepping toward the front door,

he could hear faint murmurs of conversation from outside.

He took a deep breath, adjusted his hoodie, and opened the door.

(As much as I hate this… he thought),

forcing a polite expression.

(Let's get this over with).

Hunter took a deep breath as he walked toward the door.

The exhaustion from the move lingered in his body,

but something about this moment felt important.

When he opened the door,

his gaze immediately landed on her—the girl from earlier,

the one with the skateboard.

Yukio stood at the edge of the group,

her skateboard propped against her leg,

her hoodie slightly oversized but not enough to

hide the confident stance she carried.

Hunter remembered his dad's advice from earlier:

(Be more dominant. Be confident).

Straightening his posture,

he let his earlier nervousness melt away.

His head was clear now,

and if this was a chance to make an impression,

he wasn't going to squander it.

Prinston, the first to speak,

stepped forward with a friendly smile.

"Hello. Do you speak any Japanese,

or are you just an English speaker?"

Hunter nodded,

a smirk tugging at his lips as he

decided to showcase his skills.

"Kon'nichiwa, watashi wa Hantādesu.

Nihongo wa sukoshi hanasemasuga,

omoni Eigo o hanashimasu.

Nihongo wa rikai dekimasuga,

kaiwa wa dekimasen."

The group blinked in surprise,

clearly impressed. "Wow," Mike said,

his voice filled with genuine amazement.

Even Yukio's expression shifted slightly,

her raised eyebrow and faint smile making it clear

she hadn't expected that either.

Hunter felt a small swell of pride.

(Looks like Dad was right.

Confidence is everything, Thank you Mom,

That's my boy I love you too,

Stephany's voice faintly responded in his head)

"Well, in that case," Prinston said with a chuckle,

"we'll stick to English for now.

I'm Prinston, and this is Cho, Mike, and Yukio."

Mike added, "Prinston and I are brothers.

Cho and Yukio moved here about six months ago,

so you've all got the whole 'new kid' thing in common."

"How long have you been learning Japanese?"

Cho asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

"About a year and a half," Hunter replied,

keeping his tone calm.

"My mom's been teaching me.

I'm Hunter, by the way."

He extended his hand, starting with Prinston.

Hunter made a point of shaking everyone's

hand firmly and making solid eye contact.

It was a small thing,

but he wanted to make sure they remembered him.

When it came to Yukio, though,

something changed. As their hands met,

Hunter was struck by the softness of her touch.

Her emerald-green eyes locked onto his,

bright and captivating,

like they were reflecting the light of a thousand suns.

Her scent was subtle but intoxicating,

a faint blend of something floral and sweet.

(Her hands are so soft, he thought,

his mind beginning to wander. And her hair)—

His thoughts screeched to a halt as he

realized their handshake had lasted longer

than any of the others.

He loosened his grip slightly,

hoping she would follow suit, but to his surprise,

she didn't let go. Her gaze didn't falter either,

as if they were locked in an unspoken challenge.

(What's going on here,

I didn't take enough notes)

Hunter wondered, feeling a mix of confusion and intrigue.

(She's not breaking eye contact… Is this normal, Your doing good son,

Roger's Voice faintly reverbs in his mind)?

Finally, they both let go at the same time,

but neither broke the intense eye contact until it ended naturally,

like the conclusion of a silent staring contest.

Cho, standing slightly to the side,

cleared her throat,

her voice carrying a tinge of forced cheerfulness.

"Wanna come hang with us?" she asked,

leaning forward slightly to draw Hunter's

attention away from Yukio.

"We were just heading out,

and it'd be cool to show you around."

Hunter hesitated.

The weight of fatigue and the mountain of

boxes waiting for him in the house loomed in his mind.

"Sorry, guys," he finally said.

"Maybe tomorrow.

I still need to unpack and settle in."

"Ah, that's cool," Prinston said,

though there was a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"We won't have much free time tomorrow,

but we'll figure something out later."

Hunter nodded. "Sounds good.

I'll see you guys around,"

he said, offering a small wave

before stepping back inside and closing the door.

As the door clicked shut,

Yukio's heart skipped a beat.

She glanced at her hand,

her fingers tingling faintly where Hunter's had been.

His firm grip,

his intense yet calm stare—it all

lingered in her mind like an imprint.

(He's different), she thought,

her gaze drifting to the door he had just disappeared behind.

(Not like the guys at school.

They're all predictable,

and boring. But him…)

She smiled to herself,

replaying the moment in her mind.

(Hunter, huh? The confidence in his eyes… )

Her thoughts trailed off as her smile widened.

The others hadn't noticed her subtle reaction,

too caught up in their own conversations.

But Yukio's thoughts remained on Hunter.

(We're going to get along just fine), she thought,

her grip tightening slightly on her

skateboard as the group began to walk away. Hunter walked towards his room,

his thoughts swirling after the recent

interaction with the neighbors.

(I hope that was a good impression), he mused.

But his mind kept drifting back to one particular person.

(That girl... what was her name again? Damn it, it was... YUKIO).

"Who's Yukio?" came Roger's teasing voice,

startling Hunter out of his reverie.

Hunter looking up to see his dad walking out of his room,

carrying a box.

"Dad?!" Hunter exclaimed,

his voice betraying both his surprise

and mild embarrassment.

Roger grinned mischievously.

"What's got you so lost in thought?

by the way you took one of my boxes by mistake?"

Hunter's face heated up.

"Sorry about that," he admitted,

running a hand through his hair.

"No worries," Roger said with a chuckle.

"Come to my room for a minute.

Your mom's busy in the living room,

so we'll have some privacy."

"Okay…" Hunter replied,

following his dad with a mixture of

curiosity and trepidation.

Inside Roger's room,

stacks of boxes lined the walls,

evidence of the chaos from the move.

Roger set his box down on a pile and gestured to the bed.

"Alright, Hunter, the floor is yours. What's on your mind?"

Hunter hesitated,

glancing around the room before blurting out the

first question that came to mind.

"Uh… when did you and Mom even get this bed in here?

It wasn't here when I left the house earlier."

Roger rubbed the back of his head,

chuckling nervously.

"Let's just say it involved a lot of teamwork

and a master bedroom window that will never be the same."

Hunter raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"You and Mom are so weird."

"Guilty as charged," Roger replied,

his grin widening.

"Now, what's really on your mind?"

Hunter hesitated for a moment before diving in.

"So… I think I met a girl I like.

When I shook her hand,

she didn't break eye contact.

She didn't even let go of my hand until I let go of hers.

It felt kind of… intense. What do you think that means?"

Roger's face lit up with a knowing smile.

"Ah, so you've got yourself a lady friend, huh?"

"Maybe," Hunter admitted,

his tone uncertain but hopeful.

"Well, from what you described,

it sounds like she's interested,"

Roger said confidently.

"Maintaining eye contact like that?

Not letting go first? That's a big green flag my boy."

"Seriously?" Hunter asked,

his excitement bubbling to the surface.

"Absolutely," Roger said.

"Here's the deal: you're in a great spot,

but the trick is not to overplay your hand.

Don't be too present or predictable.

Make her think about you. Let it marinate in her mind.

Stay a little mysterious.

If she doesn't see you right away,

let her notice you without making it obvious.

The idea is to keep her intrigued."

Hunter frowned slightly,

processing the advice.

"So… basically play it cool?"

"Exactly," Roger replies.

"Girls are like cats.

Ignore them a little,

and they'll come to you."

"Is that how you got Mom?"

Hunter asked, his tone skeptical but amused.

Roger paused, scratching the back of his head.

"Uh… well, our situation was a bit unique."

Hunter burst out laughing.

"I'll take that as a no."

Roger chuckled along with him,

shaking his head.

"Alright, wise guy.

Enough about me. Let's talk about you."

Hunter's laughter faded as Roger's tone shifted.

His dad leaned against the dresser,

his expression softening.

"Hunter, I know this move has been tough on you,"

Roger began. "But I want you to know that your mom

and I love you very much."

Hunter crossed his arms,

bracing himself for another parental pep talk.

Roger grinned sheepishly.

"We love you so much, in fact,

that we're willing to temporarily ruin your

life to give you a better one."

Hunter blinked, staring at his dad in disbelief.

"Wow. That's… an absolutely terrible way to put it."

Roger rubbed the back of his neck, laughing.

"Yeah, okay, fair. But it's still true.

Your mom and I won't be here forever,

and we want to leave something meaningful for

you before we, uh… visit my father."

Hunter tilted his head, confused.

"But Grandpa died—oh."

His voice trailed off as the awkward euphemism sank in.

Roger nodded solemnly. "Exactly. Look,

this move isn't just about us.

We picked this school because it's close to our jobs,

sure, but it's also a place where you can really grow.

You're going to meet new people, learn new things,

and build a future that's all your own."

"So basically," Hunter said, his tone flat,

"you blew up my social life for the sake of the

'Hunter Thompson Success Fund.'"

Roger laughed. "Pretty much."

Hunter sighed, shaking his head.

"You know, this sounds like the setup for some slice-of-life anime.

Distant parents, a mysterious new neighborhood,

a school full of strangers…"

"Hey, it's not all bad," Roger said with a grin.

"This is your chance to shine, Hunter.

And who knows? Maybe that girl you met is

just the beginning of something great."

Hunter couldn't help but smile,

the weight on his chest feeling just a little lighter.

"Thanks, Dad. I'll… I'll do my best."

"That's all I ask," Roger said, ruffling Hunter's hair.

"Oh, and one last thing—if you meet another girl you like,

be confident. Be dominant."

Hunter smirked, pulling a clipboard out of nowhere

and started to jot down notes.

"Got it. Ignore them like cats.

Be confident. Act mysterious."

Roger burst out laughing.

"You're such a smartass."

"Wonder where I got that from,"

Hunter shot back, grinning.

As their laughter filled the room,

the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve.

For a moment, it felt like everything might just turn out okay. Hours passed, and Hunter stood in his newly organized room,

arms crossed as he surveyed his work.

Every box had been unpacked,

every item placed just right.

Yet, despite the small victory, restlessness bubbled inside him.

He wandered to the window, glancing out at the unfamiliar neighborhood.

The streets were quiet,

bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun.

(Guess I should check things out.

Not like sitting here is doing me any good). 

He thought back to his dad's advice from earlier.

(Be confident. Keep cool. Don't overthink it).

"Mom, Dad, I'm going out!" he called,

grabbing his phone and wallet.

"Okay, sweetie!" his mom's voice floated back from the kitchen.

"Be careful, and don't forget—you start school tomorrow!"

Hunter froze mid-step.

"Tomorrow?!"

"Yes, yes," she replied,

far too nonchalantly for his liking.

"So don't get lost while you're out."

With a groan, Hunter stepped out into the evening air.

The breeze was crisp,

the unfamiliar streets quiet, and for a moment,

he let himself enjoy the change of pace.

(Alright, new neighborhood,

let's see what you've got).

But as he rounded a corner,

his steps faltered.

There she was. Yukio, the girl he'd met earlier,

was rolling on the ground clutching her knee,

her skateboard lying a few feet away.

(Your Joking). Hunter stopped,

blinking as the scene registered.

(Out of the entire neighborhood,

she's the first person I run into, who wrote this plot?)

For a split second,

he considered keeping his distance.

His dad's advice about being cool echoed in his mind.

(Maybe she's fine.

Maybe this is one of those moments where

I should just walk by and pretend I didn't see anything).

"This, fucking sucks," Yukio muttered,

her voice tinged with pain and frustration.

Hunter sighed, running a hand through his hair.

(So much for playing it cool).

"Hey! Are you okay?" he called, walking toward her.

As he approached,

he noticed the slight flush on her cheeks—likely

from the pain—and the determined set of her jaw.

Despite the situation,

she still had this air of confidence that threw him off a little.

"Here, let me help you," he said,

kneeling beside her and offering his hand.

"I just fell on my knee.

It's no big deal."

kneeling down to examine her.

Yukio looked up,

her green eyes locking onto his,

and for a moment, the world seemed to still.

Hunter felt a flicker of something—excitement,

nervousness, maybe both.

As she took his hand, her grip was firm,

but her touch was soft.

Hunter couldn't help but notice the faint scent of her shampoo,

the way her breast curves underneath her hoodie.

(Focus, Hunter. You're supposed to be helping her,

not… analyzing her).

"You didn't have to," she said,

her voice carrying a hint of surprise,

though she didn't let go of his hand right away.

Hunter shrugged,

trying to seem nonchalant despite the warmth spreading in his chest.

"Couldn't just leave you there, could I?"

Yukio smiled faintly, and for a moment,

Hunter wondered if she could hear the rapid beat of his heart.

He gently helped her up and looked around for

somewhere for her to rest. By sheer convenience,

a brick wall stood just behind him.

"Here, sit down,"

he said, guiding her to the wall and helping her ease into place.

"Thanks," Yukio muttered, her cheeks faintly pink as she avoided his gaze.

Hunter glanced at her scraped knee.

"It doesn't look too bad,

but you should clean it up soon.

Do you need me to walk you home?"

Yukio looked up at him,

a mix of embarrassment and gratitude in her eyes.

"No, I'm good. You don't need to do all that. I'll be fine."

"Sure you will," Hunter replied with a smirk, still unconvinced. (Damn, she's bad. Look at those thighs.

And that hoodie isn't doing much to hide the goods either—wow,

I can see the bra print on her chest.)

Hunter tore his gaze away,

mentally scolding himself. (Focus, Hunter. Don't be weird.)

Yukio broke the silence,

her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and amusement. "I thought you were staying in today?"

Yukio asked, raising an eyebrow as

she adjusted her balance on the brick wall.

"Well, I was," Hunter admitted,

scratching the back of his head.

"But I got bored.

I finished unpacking and just needed some air,

that's all."

"Uh-huh," Yukio said, her lips curling into a smirk.

She tilted her head, her green eyes narrowing playfully.

"I see," "So you just happened to stumble into me.

What are the odds?"

Caught off guard, Hunter raised his hands defensively.

"Hey, I'm not stalking you or anything!"

"Relax, I'm kidding," Yukio said,

laughing as she brushed her hair behind her ear.

The casual movement framed her face perfectly,

highlighting her delicate jawline and those soft lips.

(She's got that effortless beauty.

I hope she doesn't notice my erection)

Before Hunter could spiral further into his thoughts,

Yukio stood up in one smooth motion.

Yukio replied, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"Well, since you're already out,

you might as well follow me.

I'll give you a tour of the area."

she announced, grabbing her skateboard.

"You don't have to do that," Hunter said, shaking his head.

"I want to," Yukio countered,

standing up with a determined grin.

"Think of this as a thank-you for helping me earlier. Hunter, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Hunter," he confirmed.

"Okay, Hunter, I'm Yukio.

Let's go for a walk," she said with a playful smile.

The two began walking through the neighborhood,

She had an easy way of talking,

making even mundane details seem interesting.

Hunter found himself laughing more than he expected.

Yukio pointing out landmarks while they chatted.

The air between them quickly turned lighthearted as

they cracked jokes and laughed at each other's banter.

"And here we have the tennis courts,"

Yukio said, gesturing to the fenced-off area with pride.

"I'd show you my awesome tennis skills, but, you know...

I'm crippled at the moment."

"What's your record?" Hunter asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Let's not talk about that right now,"

Yukio replied quickly, her tone a little too casual.

Hunter couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Wait a second. You're not bad at tennis, are you?"

"I'm not bad!" Yukio protested,

her cheeks puffing out slightly.

"I just... haven't won any games yet."

At that, Hunter burst out laughing even harder,

clutching his stomach.

"Y-you're a jerk!" Yukio stammered,

blushing as she looked away,

trying to hide her embarrassment.

"You can't be crippled and bad at tennis,"

Hunter teased through his laughter.

"You've got to pick one disability."

Yukio pouted, her blush deepening.

"Okay Mr. Perfect. For your information,

I made it to sixth place in a competitive tennis tournament!"

"Out of how many?" Hunter asked, barely suppressing his laughter.

"Seven," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Hunter's laughter echoed through the quiet street,

loud and unapologetic. Despite herself,

Yukio joined in, her pout softening into a smile.

Yukio continued,

"follow me. Wanna see the school?"

"Sure, lead the way."

Hunter couldn't help but feel a little

more at ease with every step they took.

As they continued, their banter flowed naturally,

the playful energy between them undeniable.

By the time they reached the school gates,

the sun had dipped lower,

casting long shadows over the modern building. "Hunter, welcome to our school!"

Yukio said with a grand gesture as they arrived at the gates.

The building loomed large,

its modern design casting long shadows in the late afternoon light.

"As you can see, this school is... a lot scarier—uh, I mean bigger—than it looks."

"Scarier?" Hunter asked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I didn't say anything," Yukio replied quickly,

her voice a little too high-pitched.

Hunter frowned. "No, you definitely said—"

"Let's head to the corridors!"

Yukio cut him off, her pace quickening.

"Who says corridors?"

Hunter muttered, rolling his eyes but following her inside.

Time passed quickly as the two wandered through the school grounds.

Yukio guided him through hallways lined with sleek lockers,

classrooms filled with state-of-the-art equipment,

and even a serene garden tucked away behind the library.

But Hunter's focus wasn't entirely on the surroundings.

His eyes kept drifting—her legs, the curve of her waist,

the way her hoodie clung to her figure.

(This girl's built different.)

"And this is the garden," Yukio was saying,

her voice pulling him back to the present.

She gestured to the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming flowers.

"It's a nice place to relax, especially during breaks."

Hunter nodded,

pretending to admire the view while her scent—light

and sweet—tickled his senses.

(What kind of shampoo does she use? Whatever it is, it's working.)

Their playful banter and shared jokes made the time fly,

and before long, they found themselves back near the entrance.

By the time they returned to the neighborhood,

the streets were bathed in a warm, golden glow.

"Thanks for the tour," Hunter said sincerely,

his hands stuffed into his pockets.

I really appreciated the tour,"

Hunter said sincerely, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"No issue," Yukio replied with a warm smile.

"We should hang out more often," Hunter added, glancing at her.

"I'd love that," Yukio said, her smile growing.

"But we'll have to do it on our days off."

"Days off?" Hunter asked, tilting his head. "What do you mean?"

"Oh! I forgot to mention," Yukio said, chuckling nervously.

"This school is, uh… a bit intense when it comes to hours."

"Define intense," Hunter replied, his suspicion growing.

"Well… this is a highly academic school,"

Yukio began, twirling a strand of her hair.

"A typical school day here is eight hours long.

But if you want to stay for extracurricular activities or tutoring,

you can be here for up to nine hours."

"What. The Actual. Fuck," Hunter said, his voice flat,

his face a mix of disbelief and dread.

Yukio giggled.

"Ironic, that was my exact reaction when I moved here.

Since the days are so long,

the school gives us scheduled rest days—like today.

So tomorrow? No-go for me."

"Wait," Hunter said, narrowing his eyes.

"Is that what Prinston meant earlier when he said he wasn't free tomorrow?"

"Exactly!" Yukio replied, nodding.

"Oh, by the way, do you have a dorm yet?"

"I don't think so," Hunter admitted.

"I just moved in with my parents today."

"You should look into getting one,"

Yukio suggested. "It's like having your own mini house,

but with a roommate. It's not too bad though.

I lucked out with a decent one."

"At least the school's close to my house,"

Hunter muttered. "That's one small win."

He gave her a grateful smile.

"Yukio, thanks again for all your help today."

"No issue," Yukio said, her cheeks faintly pink.

"Shall we head back?"

"Yeah, let's go," Hunter replied, nodding.

As they walked back through the neighborhood,

the sun dipped lower in the sky,

painting the streets in warm hues of orange and pink.

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics,

both feeling a sense of satisfaction at having made a new friend.

When they reached Hunter's house, he gave Yukio a wave.

"Thanks again, Yukio. I'll see you around!"

"Anytime," Yukio replied, waving back before heading off down the street.

Hunter watched as she walked away,

his gaze inevitably drifting to the sway of her hips.

Her shorts hugged her curves in all the right places,

and the way her thighs moved with each step sent his mind racing.

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

(Damn, she's bad. And that ass... She has to know what she's doing, those

jean shorts, she's rocking them things.)

Yukio glanced back briefly,

offering him a small wave. Hunter quickly waved back,

trying to play it cool despite the storm of thoughts swirling in his head.

As soon as she disappeared from view,

Hunter exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

(Focus, Hunter. You've got school tomorrow. Worry about this later.)

Hunter stepped inside, her image stayed with him—her laugh,

her confidence, the way her green eyes seemed

to see right through him.

The smell of dinner wafting from the kitchen.

He ate with his family, shared a few laughs,

and finally crashed into bed,

exhaustion pulling him under.

But as he drifted off, a strange thought nagged at him.

Yukio's slip of the tongue earlier.

(Scarier than it looks).

The phrase replayed in his mind.

What exactly did she mean by that?

Unsettled but too tired to dwell on it,

Hunter decided to let it go. For now.

Tomorrow though,

he'd have to face the unknowns of his first day at a

school that already felt anything but ordinary.

NEXT Chapter Preview:

I wonder what she meant by, "this school is scarier than it looks?"

Hunter thought to himself, Yukio's odd choice of words playing on repeat in his mind.

he couldn't help but notice something unsettling...

"This school is normal so far"

Hunter muttered under his breath,

pulling at his tie

Every student stopped to greet the instructor

standing near the doors. A tall

stern-faced woman with a clipboard.

Each greeting was formal yet oddly rehearsed,

as though this was an unspoken rule everyone followed.

Guess I'll do the same,

Hunter thought, stepping forward.

"Good morning! How was your morning?" he asked,

trying his best to sound natural.

the reactions of the students around him were intense.

They all turned to stare at him, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"What did I do?" Hunter asked,

his voice tinged with panic as he glanced from face to face.

The stares didn't waver, making his unease grow.

Hunter turned to see a male instructor approaching,

his sharp features set in a scowl.

The man's imposing presence

was enough to make Hunter instinctively step back.

"What did I do?" Hunter repeated,

his voice quieter now, tinged with confusion and fear.

The instructor didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he grabbed Hunter firmly by the arm,

his grip ironclad, and began walking him away from the entrance.

"Wait, where are you taking me?"

Hunter protested, trying to keep pace with the instructor's brisk steps.

"Silence," the man said curtly,

his tone brooking no argument.

As Hunter was led away,

the murmurs of the surrounding students grew louder.

Whispers of confusion, concern,

and even amusement reached his ears.

He caught sight of one girl in particular, standing at a distance.

Her gaze was fixed on him,

her expression a mix of curiosity and unease.

Something about her look sent a chill down Hunter's spine.

It wasn't just the confusion in her

eyes—it was the faint flicker of recognition.

(Does she know me)? Hunter wondered,

his thoughts swirling as he was pulled further away from the crowd.

The girl's stare lingered until Hunter disappeared from view.

The hallway he was led into grew darker,

and the sound of the bustling entrance faded into an eerie silence.

Hunter's heart pounded in his chest as he

realized—this school really was scarier than it looked.

(WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON)!

Hunter thought.