A Typical Normie

A tall boy with messy brown hair and a sharp gaze stood behind us, hands casually stuffed in his pockets.

His eyes flickered with a hint of amusement as he looked between Fujiwara and me.

"Ah, Takashima-kun, what are you doing here?", Fujiwara asked, visibly flustered.

The boy's name is Takashima Taiki, from class 1A.

Spotting one or two classmates in a popular cafe doesn't seem unusual, but the strange part is Fujiwara's reaction.

As I was thinking about the situation, Takishima casually took a chair and sat across Fujiwara.

"So, what is this? The class representative and the new transfer student? Are you two acquaintances by any chance?", he asked casually scrolling through the menu.

He is acting so casually like any close friend would behave, but from Fujiwara's expression it is clear that he is not welcome.

"You got it wrong, Takashima-kun. I am helping him for the final exams. You know, our teacher said that there would be no concession or whatsoever, even if he is a transfer student.", Fujiwara denied.

"Ah, I have heard about it. Sounds pretty unfair to me.", Takishima seemed to have heard about the state of class 1B.

From his friends maybe?

"Right? So I was helping him with important topics to cover first.", Fujiwara replied.

"Yeah, but I have heard that the transfer entrance exam is pretty tough too, so you must be pretty impressive yourself Kasuragi-kun.", Takishima turned towards me.

Honestly, I can't actually tell them that I didn't take the transfer test, and was directly admitted.

"....I was barely able to pass it.", I said while maintaining my composure.

"No need to be so polite now. By the way, I have a suggestion.", Takishima spoke up again.

"...Hmm? What is it?", the fluster on Fujiwara's face became even firmer.

"Actually, I am also quite struggling right now for the exams. So would it be alright for me to join your study session? Please?"

A polite request from a classmate.

If you think about it, this isn't anything unusual.

Takishima seems to be your typical normie, moving forward with their own motives and expressing themselves without holding back.

I leaned back slightly, folding my arms as I studied Takashima's expression.

His grin was easygoing, his eyes clear of any hidden motives—or so it seemed.

He wore his emotions plainly, his intentions transparent like an open book.

A typical normie.

The kind of person who floats through life on the surface, never quite diving into the depths of their own thoughts, nor straying too far from the comfort of the crowd.

Normies like him thrive in the collective—their validation, their sense of purpose, all neatly packaged within the boundaries of societal expectations.

I've always found it fascinating.

People like Takashima are never truly alone.

Their problems are shared, their joys celebrated in groups.

When they laugh, others laugh with them.

When they suffer, there's always someone nearby to pat them on the back and tell them everything will be fine.

Their existence is communal, collective—a network of shared experiences that keeps them grounded.

For them, the concept of solitude is foreign, almost alien.

And then there are people like me.

Loners. Drifters. The ones who exist just outside the edges of that collective warmth.

For us, solitude is not a choice—it's a condition.

Conversations are fleeting, friendships are shallow, and the warmth that normies take for granted is like a distant fire, flickering just beyond reach.

I've always been more of an observer, watching the currents of social interaction from a safe distance, never quite dipping my feet in.

It's not that I'm afraid.

Far from it.

It's just that…when you're isolated, you see things others don't.

You understand the unspoken, the hidden intentions, the cracks in people's masks.

To be a loner is to be an outsider, yes—but it's also to be a witness.

Takashima was still smiling, oblivious to the layers of scrutiny I had just peeled back.

"So, what do you say? Can I join?"

Fujiwara's smile, although polite, faltered for the briefest of moments.

She turned her gaze to me, as if seeking my opinion.

Her fingers lightly tapped against the side of her cup, a subtle rhythm of impatience.

Now that I think about it, I can vaguely form speculation of why her reactions are like this.

Takishima is in a different class.

So, it would not have been any difficult to ask a classmate of his for help, if he were actually struggling.

Now, Fujiwara told me that this is a popular cafe for sure, but popular among female students particularly.

I have also observed that almost all of the customers were females except me.

So I was kind of relieved to see another male student in here.

But, now that I think about it, isn't it strange?

Takishima conveniently ends up in the same cafe as Fujiwara, where male students rarely visit?

All of these hints towards one obvious conclusion. 

On top of that, Fujiwara's reaction gives off the feeling that she is definitely aware of it.

Her expression almost seemed like a cry for help, when she looked towards me for affirmation of Takishima studying with us.

So, what to do now?

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Author's Note:

Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.

Next Chapter : A Polite Gesture

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