Visionary & Strawberry

Still my eyes haven't adjusted to the light yet, my god what's with these.

The room is dark, silent except for the scratch of my pencil against paper. It's late, but I'm used to these hours. Just me, my desk, and the quiet of the night to keep me company.

But then, cutting through the calm, I hear it… a scream. My whole body tenses. It's a woman's voice, sharp, desperate. My head snaps up, and for a moment, everything is still. Then, slowly, I push my chair back, standing up and making my way toward the door.

My heart thuds with each step, an almost painful rhythm against the quiet. The voice... it sounds familiar, like someone I know but can't place. As I get closer to the door, a strange whisper threads through my mind, A voice... that's not my own... it says... it's not yours... Don't open it.

I stop, frozen for a second. It feels... wrong. Don't open it..., the whisper insists, soft but urgent, almost like it's trying to protect me. Still, I keep moving. The closer I get, the louder it becomes, repeating like a mantra inside my head. Don't.open.it.

I ignore it, my hand hovering over the doorknob. I can feel the cool metal under my fingertips, the strange pull of the door urging me to turn it. But that voice—Don't open it.—it's practically screaming now. The metal doorknob is cold, it's sending some black flashes to my eyes. It's some kind of déjà vu. 

It's cold

"Haah," I exhaled heavily.

My breathing was labored, it happened again. Where am I?

Looking around, I realized I was on a bus. No, more accurately, I was traveling on a bus. The people around me were dressed in high school uniforms—elegant ones, with royal blue coats suited for the winter season.

Am I on another mission? What about that mission last night?

The fact that I am alive means Haruto handled it?

As confusion clouded my mind, a voice to my right pulled me back.

"Um, hey, you okay?"

I turned toward the voice and froze. It was a girl.

She wore the same royal uniform with a blue coat. Her eyes were a soft gray, and her hair had a purplish hue.

I stared at her for a second longer than I should've, and she noticed.

"Uh, you've been staring for a while. . ." she said, snapping me back to reality.

"S-Sorry, I was just. . ." I trailed off, unsure how to explain my inner guy's problem.

Trying to calm myself, I glanced down at myself…

". . ."

Why am I wearing the same royal uniform with a blue coat?

"Um, you zoned out again," she said, her voice bringing me back once more. My confusion deepened.

Zoned out? Damn it, how long was I out this time?

As I checked the time, it's the same time before I zoned out so probably a few seconds. Thank god.

I looked around the bus. It was a school bus—no doubt about it. Damn you—

"Wow, what a coincidence! We're in the same class!" she exclaimed, holding up my ID card.

Startled, I took hold of her ID card as well. It read Class I-I. First-year students. So, I'm a first-year student here too. Nice.

Her name was Lisa Cadwell. She is 15. And her address. . . Wait, why does her address match mine, with just a different room number? Don't tell me—

"Hey, can you let go?" she interrupted, snapping me out of my thoughts again.

Realizing I was still holding her ID card, I let go quickly and shifted slightly, giving her some space.

I glanced at my own ID card, trying to process everything.

The photo. This isn't an old photo. 

This is me, now. The face I see on this ID is clearly after my puberty.

And the school name? Advanced Visionary High School.

"Hikigaya Shiba, right?" she asked, her voice breaking through my thoughts.

I looked into her eyes and nodded.

"Lisa Carwell, right?" I replied.

She smiled and nodded back. "Yes, that's my name. Nice to meet you."

"Uh, yeah, nice to meet you too. . ."

"Sorry for suddenly asking you to let me go, it's—"

"No, no, you don't have to apologize. It's my fault for not understanding the concept of personal space—"

"NO! Not that," she interrupted. "You were dragging my ID toward your face, and it made my neck hurt."

"Wait, what?"

To confirm, I carefully took her ID again and gently dragged it closer to my face, just like I'd done before. Sure enough, the motion tugged at her neck uncomfortably.

Her ID tag must have a short strap—it's like pulling on someone's neck with a rope. I've felt that pain before, so I could imagine how bad it must have been for her.

I quickly let go of her ID and looked at her apologetically.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't realize it was hurting you."

"Yeah, no big deal. And hey, don't be so formal—we're classmates, bro."

"Uh, ha—yeah."

God, she's the complete opposite of me. How can she be so friendly with someone like me?

Wait, did she just call me bro? Are we friends or is she just being nice to me?

As I was surrounded by the typical questions every teenager asks themselves during their teen years, the bus suddenly stopped. Looks like I've reached the school, I guess.

I stood up on instinct, as I followed people who were walking out and then I stood there, facing the school gate.

So this is where I am going to study huh?

This feels weird compared to what happened that night.

I began walking toward the school where I'd be studying, and as I reached the steps, I noticed a familiar face from the bus.

"You're late, bro!"

Yep, she definitely considers me a friend at this point.

"I got lost, that's why," I said, walking up to her. Then I added, "Were you waiting for me?"

With a smile, she replied, "Yeah, we're classmates, so why not wait for a fellow classmate I'm going to study with?"

"Yeah, right," I muttered, falling into step beside her.

As we walked and talked, I noticed people starting to glance our way—or more specifically, at her. It wasn't unusual for someone foreign-looking to draw attention, and Lisa's name and appearance clearly weren't Japanese.

Still, I could tell she was trying her best to fit into the Japanese world.

She was tall for a girl—probably around 5'9". Though she came off as carefree and maybe a little clueless, getting into this school required a certain level of intellect. If she passed the entrance exam, she's clearly smarter than she lets on. That's assuming she did pass it, of course.

This school, by the way, is currently ranked as the number one high school in Japan. Currently is the key word, since it used to be stuck in second place. 

The school is on a whole different level, boasting a 100% job placement rate, state-of-the-art facilities, and study methods that are far more challenging than other schools. Honestly, it feels like something straight out of a light novel.

Before I knew it, we were already inside the first-year block, which was massive—-at least seven floors tall.

Luckily, my class was on the first floor, so no big deal there.

As I glanced to my right, I saw Lisa still walking beside me, looking around the place with the same curiosity I had.

"You really like this place huh?" I said, to strike up some conversation.

She looked at me with her wide beauty eye and said "Yeah this school is sick like it's really cool"

My eyes slightly widened at those words—ah, nevermind, it's not her.

We continued walking, heading toward our class, which was located all the way at the far end of the corridor, despite being labeled as Class 1-1.

The door was closed, and Lisa was still standing by the window, lost in thought. I called out to her to get her attention.

"Hey, Lisa, we've arrived at the class."

"Oh wait, really? I didn't even notice."

"Just where is your mind at…"

"Well, I was looking at that fountain over there," she replied, pointing toward a window across the hallway.

I turned to the window, catching a glimpse of the fountain she mentioned—a large, elegant structure.

"It's beautiful, right, Shiba-kun?"

"Yeah, sure it is."

As I got closer to the window, I took a better look at the fountain. It was white, with bright blue water flowing elegantly from the top, cascading down into a pot-like structure shaped like a lotus.

"Yo, why are you just standing there? Get in the class," Lisa called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I instinctively turned at her voice, noticing she'd already swung the classroom door wide open.

Pacing myself, I walked inside and gently closed the door behind me.

The classroom was already buzzing with activity. I glanced around and saw a few students—probably around 30 in total. Most were deep in conversation, already forming small groups and chatting with their neighbors.

Before I could call out to Lisa, she was already surrounded by two girls. Talk about being pretty.

I decided to ignore it and made my way to my desk. My assigned number was apparently 30, which put me right at the classic "end of the row, near the window" seat.

Hooking my bag onto the side of the desk, I leaned forward, resting my head on my arms, trying to process everything that had happened so far.

Lisa spoke to me first—well, more like she spoke, and I responded—and somehow, we got to know each other a bit. After that, we got off the bus, and she even waited for me.

Then we walked to the school together, drawing some stares—probably because of her striking foreign appearance. Before entering the class, she noticed that fountain, which, admittedly, had caught my interest too.

And now, here I am. Alone.

What the fu—

Okay, okay, like, she's not my friend or anything. We just happened to meet on the bus, and she seems like a total extrovert. It makes sense that she's already chatting with others.

As I was lost in my swirling thoughts, pondering the events of the day, a familiar voice broke through, pulling me back to reality.

"Yo, you good? Why are you laying down?" Lisa's casual tone cut through the chatter of the classroom.

I raised my head and turned to my right, and there she was—the girl I'd just been thinking about. Lisa stood next to me, her curious expression paired with that same easygoing energy she always carried. For some reason, seeing her there brought a strange sense of relief.

I met her gaze and spoke up. "So, you're seated next to me?"

"Seating? What's that?" she asked with a smirk, tilting her head slightly.

Eh—what?

"Well, you know," I clarified, "seating assigned according to your roll number?" My tone betrayed my confusion—wasn't that just standard procedure?

"Yeah, I know that, but who cares? Everyone's sitting wherever they feel like, so it's no big deal." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Ah, you're right," I admitted.

She did have a point. Most people probably didn't care about sticking to the assigned seating, except for people like me, who preferred the quiet comfort of a window seat.

"So, how was your talk with those girls?" I asked, steering the conversation elsewhere.

"Oh, that?" she replied casually, leaning slightly against my desk. "Yeah, they were curious about my appearance, so they asked me stuff like my name, where I'm from, blah blah."

"Sounds good. So, you made some friends, huh?"

"Well. . . kinda. I don't know," she replied with a small shrug.

"What do you mean by 'I don't know' ?" I pressed, raising an eyebrow at her vague answer.

"Well," she started with a grin, "I don't know means 'I don't know'."

Darn it. She's messing with me.

"Nice joke. Now come back to the point."

"Why're you being so serious, bro?" she said, laughing. "I don't know—I barely remember their names."

"Okay then," I challenged, leaning forward slightly, "what's my name?"

Her lips curved into a confident smile. "It's Shiba Hikigaya."

My eyes widened slightly in surprise. She actually remembered my name, and it was only the first day of school.

"W-Wow, you actually remember my name."

"Well, yeah, we're friends after all." she replied with a playful grin.

"When did that become a thing?" 

"What? Don't you want to be friends with me?"

". . ."

"I'll take that silence as a yes. Hehe~" she giggled, clearly enjoying herself.

Darn it. I should've just said no. She's starting to seem... suspicious.

Wait, hold on. Will she be my next dominant girlfriend?

I quickly shook my head, trying to dispel the thought. No, no, stop fantasizing. Focus.

I glanced around the classroom, and sure enough, it was nearly full. Only one seat remained unoccupied—the one directly in front of me. The person assigned to it was probably running late, I thought.

As if on cue, a guy entered the room, cutting through the noise and chatter. I subtly shifted my gaze to get a look at him.

He was tall for a high schooler, with dark eyes, stiff hair, and a slightly wrinkled, messy uniform that screamed anything but elegance.

He walked toward the empty seat—most likely his, considering Lisa's seat was definitely not open to negotiation. But as he reached it, he stopped, standing beside the desk and looking visibly confused.

Then, his eyes locked onto mine. My instincts kicked in, and I quickly turned away, pretending I hadn't noticed. I had a good idea of what was about to happen, and I wasn't keen on getting involved just yet.

Sure enough, the guy walked straight up to Lisa, who had been sitting in the desk marked as his. Lisa, who hadn't been paying much attention, looked up as he stopped in front of her.

There was a brief, awkward silence before she spoke, her tone confused. "Hey, um, why are you standing there?"

The boy stayed silent for a moment, then finally opened his mouth.

"Well, I assume you're sitting here to chat with someone," he said, his tone steady and firm, "but my roll number is 29, and that seat is mine."

He continued, "So I would appreciate it if you gave up the seat."

Lisa fumbled for a response, her usual confidence faltering. "Well, like—" she started, then quickly added, "It doesn't matter. It's the first day of school, so can you just sit there, please?" She pointed to the empty seat in front of me.

"Mm, a solid option," the boy replied, his voice low and deliberate, "but I have a personal preference to avoid window seats. So, please don't make me repeat myself."

His tone was calm but sharp, almost like a nerd trying to sound authoritative. I could see a faint bead of sweat forming on Lisa's temple.

"Look, it's not a big deal," she said, her tone slipping into a pleading one I'd never heard from her before. "Can you just sit there, please?"

But the boy wasn't about to back down.

"Well, yeah, it's not a big deal," he said matter-of-factly, "but depending on the homeroom teacher, it could cause problems. So, please move to your seat."

"But I don't know where my seat is, bro," Lisa shot back, frustration creeping into her voice. "So just sit in that seat, alright?"

"I can tell you where your seat is," he retorted, his tone turning slightly aggressive. "It's the one you're pointing at. Just move there, alright?"

The tension between them escalated, both of their tones now edging toward outright irritation.

At this point, I figured it was time to step in before things got worse.

"Lisa, just sit here," I interjected, trying to defuse the situation. "You'll be right in front of me, so it's no big deal."

"Tch, you too, Shiba? Fine," she huffed.

With an annoyed sigh, Lisa stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as she moved.

"Move, jerk," she said, shoving the boy lightly as she switched to the desk in front of me.

The boy, unfazed, sat down in his assigned seat, resting his face in his left hand, leaning slightly to the side.

Lisa, now seated in her new spot, looked over her shoulder at me, her expression clearly saying, You owe me for this.

And just like that, the "chill queen" had been dethroned, at least for the moment, by the boy with the stiff demeanor and messy uniform.

I turned to the front, where Lisa was sitting. She stared out the window, her usual chill demeanor replaced by a visible scowl.

Should I try to calm her down?

"Lisa?" I called her name in a low, whispering tone.

She stayed silent for a few moments, then finally spoke, her voice sharp.

"Yeah?"

"Well, your tone is obviously not so chill," I said cautiously.

Without warning, she whipped around to face me, her eyes blazing.

"CAN'T YOU SEE YOU BETRAYED ME, YOU PIECE OF SH—"

"Hey! Chill! You can't shout like that—what if someone hears?" I cut her off, trying to quiet her down.

"WHO CARES? THAT GUY NEXT TO YOU IS SUCH A DIC—"

Acting purely on instinct, I clamped my hand over her mouth. My heart raced as I realized the situation—if people noticed her yelling or her behavior, they might start associating me with a loud, less-than-elegant classmate.

But then it hit me. My hand was physically touching her face. Her mouth, to be precise.

Oh no.

Sweat started forming on my forehead as my hand froze in place, waiting for her reaction. A slap? A punch? I braced myself for the worst.

But her response wasn't what I expected.

"OW!" I yelped in a hushed tone, yanking my hand back.

She'd bitten me.

I glanced at my palm, and sure enough, there were faint teeth marks.

"You bit me..." I said, half in disbelief, half in pain.

"Yeah," she replied, her tone unapologetic. "That's for not supporting me, you dumb shit."

"Who are you calling dumb, huh?" I shot back, rubbing my sore hand.

Her fiery glare softened slightly, but her pout remained intact.

Amid the chaos, I heard a comment from my right—the one responsible for all this trouble.

"You two sure seem to be good… ahem friends."

Lisa snapped her head toward him, her expression sharp.

"Can you shut up and mind your own business, nerd?"

"Alright," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging.

"Lisa, chill out," I said, trying to defuse the situation.

"Yeah, whatever," she mumbled before her tone softened, and a grin appeared on her face. "But on the bright side, we're still sitting close!"

Before I could respond, she leaned toward me, casually draping her arm across my shoulder.

"Wha— Lisa, back off!" I said, immediately shrugging her off.

"What the—what's that supposed to mean, Shiba?" she asked, visibly taken aback.

My breathing turned heavy as a sharp, stinging pain shot through my neck where her arm had rested. I winced slightly before managing to explain.

"No, it's not you—it's just… I've got this really bad neck pain, and that pressure just triggered it. Sorry about that."

Her expression softened, and she pulled back. "Oh, sorry! I didn't know that."

"No, don't apologize—it's not your fault," I assured her quickly.

"Alright," she said quietly. "Let me know if it gets unbearable, okay?" With that, she turned to face the front again.

I let out a small sigh of relief, but my thoughts lingered on the pain.

Why did my neck hurt like this?

I instinctively ran my hand over the spot, flinching as I felt the sore area. It was tender to the touch, as if I'd strained it. But how?

Is it from that mission last night?

I stared at my desk, trying to focus, to force the memories to surface. But before I could process it further, the sound of the classroom door opening snapped me back to reality.

The shuffling of feet followed as the students rose to their feet. On instinct, I stood as well, my mind still fogged by the sudden recollection.

A voice, calm yet commanding, filled the room.

"Good morning. I am Luna Amato, your homeroom teacher."

She said, her words sending a weird shiver down my spine.

That voice. It was her.

The woman from last night.

Luna Amato.

What is she doing here? Why is she a homeroom teacher?

And more importantly, what am I doing here, in a place where Luna is my homeroom teacher?

What have you done, Haruto?

I can explain.

Before I could even begin piecing together an explanation, her voice cut through the room again.

"So, I hope everyone had a good night's sleep because today is going to be a big day for all of you. As your homeroom teacher, I look forward to guiding you through a great year ahead."

Her words were smooth, calm, but they carried an edge that sent a familiar chill racing down my spine.

As if on cue, the wind from the window next to me blew in, carrying an icy gust that made me shiver.

It's cold.