Chapter 1: The Soundless Days
The morning sun spilled across the narrow streets of Tokyo, casting golden light through the half-open curtains of Haruki Aozora's room. His alarm had already gone off three times, yet he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in silence. It was a familiar kind of silence - not peaceful, but heavy.
He finally sat up, reached for his glasses, and muttered, "Time to go."
There was no excitement in his voice. No sleepiness either. Just? a mechanical sense of duty.
Haruki was seventeen. A second-year student at Hoshikawa High School. His grades were perfect, his uniform always neat, and his teachers praised him. Parents often whispered to their kids, "Why can't you be more like Aozora-kun?"
But no one knew how his hands trembled under the desk during every exam. How he stayed awake until 2 a.m. revising chapters he already knew by heart. How he stopped drawing, stopped laughing, stopped living - because being "the best" had become his only worth.
He glanced at the poster on his wall - half-covered by a plain school schedule. It was of "Blazing Sky Academy", his favorite anime. Colorful characters smiled beneath a dazzling sky, full of dreams and freedom.
Haruki hadn't watched an episode in weeks.
---
The breakfast table was quiet, except for the clinking of utensils. His father scrolled through the news on his tablet. His mother sipped her tea, expression sharp as always.
"How did the mock exam go?" his father asked without looking up.
"I got 97," Haruki replied.
His mother's eyebrows twitched. "Why not 100?"
Haruki froze for a moment. "Sorry."
"You need to improve. You can't afford to drop from first rank now," his father added, tapping on the screen. "The university entrance tests are only a year away."
Haruki nodded quietly and stood up.
"You're not done eating," his mother said.
"I'm not hungry."
---
The train ride to school was packed as usual, but Haruki always found a way to disappear into the crowd. He stood near the door, earphones in, music off. It made people less likely to talk to him. Not that they ever did.
At school, he greeted his homeroom teacher, took his seat, and stared out the window. Cherry blossoms had started blooming on the trees by the field. Haruki liked cherry blossoms. They looked fragile but still bloomed, year after year.
"Aozora-kun," a voice called. It was his class rep. "Can you help carry the papers to the staff room?"
Haruki stood up immediately. "Yes."
As always. Quiet. Obedient. Perfect.
---
Lunch break came. Haruki took out his bento, ate alone under the stairs near the old club building. It was peaceful here. No students, no questions, no eyes watching.
He was halfway through a rice ball when he heard laughter.
Male voices - loud, warm, real.
"?and then he actually yelled 'FOR THE POWER OF OTAKU JUSTICE!' before tripping over his own cape!" someone laughed.
"Oi! I told you not to tell anyone that!" another shouted.
Haruki leaned closer, heart suddenly beating faster. Were they talking about anime?
From the other side of the building came a group of boys. Four of them. One wore round glasses and carried a stack of light novels. Another had messy hair and a basketball in his hand. One wore a hoodie with anime pins on it. And the fourth, a tall guy with dyed-brown hair, was laughing uncontrollably.
They looked? so different. Yet something about their energy felt magnetic.
Haruki quickly stood up and backed away. But before he could slip away, the boy with the anime pins spotted him.
"Eh? Someone's here?"
Haruki froze.
The boy smiled. "Yo! You hiding out here too?"
Haruki adjusted his glasses nervously. "I? just wanted quiet."
"No worries! We're not trying to steal your spot or anything." The boy waved his hands. "Name's Yuto. We're part of the Anime & Culture Appreciation Club."
Haruki blinked. That club still existed?
"We usually hang out here during lunch. You can join us if you want!" Yuto grinned.
Haruki shook his head quickly. "No, thank you."
Yuto tilted his head but didn't push. "Alright. Maybe next time."
The group walked past, still talking and laughing. Haruki sat back down slowly. His bento was cold now. But for the first time in weeks, he felt something stir inside.
Maybe? next time?
---
The final bell rang, and students flooded the hallway, chattering about cram school and club meetings. Haruki walked past them, silent as always. But just as he reached the gates, he saw them again - Yuto and his friends, joking near the vending machines.
Yuto caught his eye and waved.
Haruki looked away and kept walking.
But he didn't put on his earphones this time.
He wanted to hear the world a little more.
The next day was overcast, the sky a dull gray above Tokyo's restless skyline. The kind of weather that matched Haruki's thoughts.
The day passed in the usual blur of lectures, notes, and hollow praise. "Excellent work, Aozora-kun," the math teacher said. Haruki nodded but didn't feel proud. He couldn't remember the last time he had.
When the lunch bell rang, Haruki found himself hesitating.
He glanced at his bag, then toward the classroom window. The sky hadn't changed. Neither had his score. But something inside him? had.
He stood, picked up his lunchbox, and walked - not toward the old stairwell this time, but around the school building.
They were there.
Yuto sat cross-legged on the ground with a bag of chips. Daiki, the loud one with spiky hair, argued passionately with Ren over which mecha anime had better physics. Shun leaned against a tree, earbuds in, bouncing a small basketball in one hand.
Yuto noticed Haruki first. "Oh! It's you again! Haruki-kun, right?"
Haruki froze. He hadn't told them his name yesterday.
Yuto pointed to his backpack. "Name tag."
Haruki looked down. Oh.
"You came," Yuto smiled, patting the grass beside him. "You can sit. We don't bite."
Haruki hesitated, then quietly sat down at the edge of the group. No one stared. No one asked questions.
They just? kept talking.
---
At first, Haruki simply listened.
They spoke about an upcoming anime movie release. Something about "Knights of Lunar Eclipse." Haruki knew it well. He'd even drawn fan art for it months ago.
Then they argued about whether a certain shounen series had gone downhill. Ren passionately defended it, citing character development, while Daiki rolled his eyes. "They've recycled the same training arc five times!"
Haruki let out a small chuckle.
Yuto noticed immediately. "Hey, he laughs!"
Flustered, Haruki looked away. "Sorry."
"No! That was great!" Yuto grinned. "You watch anime too, right?"
Haruki nodded slowly.
"Favorite?"
There was a pause.
"?Aether Chronicles," Haruki murmured.
Ren gasped. "Yo! The soundtrack of that anime is a masterpiece!"
"Right?" Haruki said, a bit too quickly. "Yuki Aihara's compositions always hit emotionally at the right moment, especially in the final fight scene of season two - "
He stopped himself. His cheeks turned pink.
They were all staring at him.
And then - Yuto clapped. "Dude! That's the energy we live for!"
Haruki blinked.
No mocking. No judgment. Just? excitement.
"I haven't talked about anime like that in a long time," he said quietly.
"Well, now you have four anime freaks to talk to every day," Daiki said, flopping down beside him. "Welcome to the dark side."
Shun tossed a chip in his mouth. "We have Pocky too."
Haruki smiled. Genuinely this time.
---
After school, Haruki stayed behind to clean the blackboard. When he returned to grab his bag, something was missing.
His sketchbook.
Panic hit like a jolt of electricity.
He searched frantically - under the desk, behind his seat - but it was gone.
Not that sketchbook. Not the one filled with anime fan art, character designs, and fantasy creatures he dared not show anyone. If anyone from class found it, they'd laugh. Or worse? tell his parents.
He dashed down the hallway, heart racing, scanning every face.
Then he saw him.
Ren Tachibana, the techy, walking toward the shoe lockers with something in hand.
Haruki rushed over.
"Ren! Wait!"
Ren turned. "Oh! This yours?"
Haruki snatched the sketchbook, clutching it tight. "Don't open it."
Ren blinked. "I didn't."
Haruki looked up in surprise.
Ren adjusted his glasses. "It was under your chair. I figured you'd want it back. Looked important."
A beat of silence.
"?Thanks," Haruki said, voice trembling slightly.
Ren smiled shyly. "Don't worry. I draw too. Only? uh, blueprints for robot girls." He laughed awkwardly.
Haruki couldn't help but laugh too. "That's oddly specific."
"We all got our thing," Ren shrugged. "And honestly? If your art's half as cool as your anime trivia, it's probably amazing."
Haruki stood there, stunned. Not because someone complimented his drawing - but because it was okay. Someone knew, and it was okay.
---
That night, Haruki sat at his desk. His textbooks lay open, but untouched. Instead, he reached for his sketchbook.
He flipped to a blank page.
Then, with quiet hands, he drew.
Not for grades. Not for college.
But for himself.
He sketched the five of them - sitting under a tree, laughing, arguing, just like earlier that day. It wasn't perfect, but it felt alive.
And for the first time in months, Haruki didn't feel alone.
He closed the book and whispered to the stars outside his window:
> "Maybe tomorrow won't be so hard."
The morning sun spilled across the narrow streets of Tokyo, casting golden light through the half-open curtains of Haruki Aozora's room. His alarm had already gone off three times, yet he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in silence. It was a familiar kind of silence - not peaceful, but heavy.
He finally sat up, reached for his glasses, and muttered, "Time to go."
There was no excitement in his voice. No sleepiness either. Just? a mechanical sense of duty.
Haruki was seventeen. A second-year student at Hoshikawa High School. His grades were perfect, his uniform always neat, and his teachers praised him. Parents often whispered to their kids, "Why can't you be more like Aozora-kun?"
But no one knew how his hands trembled under the desk during every exam. How he stayed awake until 2 a.m. revising chapters he already knew by heart. How he stopped drawing, stopped laughing, stopped living - because being "the best" had become his only worth.
He glanced at the poster on his wall - half-covered by a plain school schedule. It was of "Blazing Sky Academy", his favorite anime. Colorful characters smiled beneath a dazzling sky, full of dreams and freedom.
Haruki hadn't watched an episode in weeks.
---
The breakfast table was quiet, except for the clinking of utensils. His father scrolled through the news on his tablet. His mother sipped her tea, expression sharp as always.
"How did the mock exam go?" his father asked without looking up.
"I got 97," Haruki replied.
His mother's eyebrows twitched. "Why not 100?"
Haruki froze for a moment. "Sorry."
"You need to improve. You can't afford to drop from first rank now," his father added, tapping on the screen. "The university entrance tests are only a year away."
Haruki nodded quietly and stood up.
"You're not done eating," his mother said.
"I'm not hungry."
---
The train ride to school was packed as usual, but Haruki always found a way to disappear into the crowd. He stood near the door, earphones in, music off. It made people less likely to talk to him. Not that they ever did.
At school, he greeted his homeroom teacher, took his seat, and stared out the window. Cherry blossoms had started blooming on the trees by the field. Haruki liked cherry blossoms. They looked fragile but still bloomed, year after year.
"Aozora-kun," a voice called. It was his class rep. "Can you help carry the papers to the staff room?"
Haruki stood up immediately. "Yes."
As always. Quiet. Obedient. Perfect.
---
Lunch break came. Haruki took out his bento, ate alone under the stairs near the old club building. It was peaceful here. No students, no questions, no eyes watching.
He was halfway through a rice ball when he heard laughter.
Male voices - loud, warm, real.
"?and then he actually yelled 'FOR THE POWER OF OTAKU JUSTICE!' before tripping over his own cape!" someone laughed.
"Oi! I told you not to tell anyone that!" another shouted.
Haruki leaned closer, heart suddenly beating faster. Were they talking about anime?
From the other side of the building came a group of boys. Four of them. One wore round glasses and carried a stack of light novels. Another had messy hair and a basketball in his hand. One wore a hoodie with anime pins on it. And the fourth, a tall guy with dyed-brown hair, was laughing uncontrollably.
They looked? so different. Yet something about their energy felt magnetic.
Haruki quickly stood up and backed away. But before he could slip away, the boy with the anime pins spotted him.
"Eh? Someone's here?"
Haruki froze.
The boy smiled. "Yo! You hiding out here too?"
Haruki adjusted his glasses nervously. "I? just wanted quiet."
"No worries! We're not trying to steal your spot or anything." The boy waved his hands. "Name's Yuto. We're part of the Anime & Culture Appreciation Club."
Haruki blinked. That club still existed?
"We usually hang out here during lunch. You can join us if you want!" Yuto grinned.
Haruki shook his head quickly. "No, thank you."
Yuto tilted his head but didn't push. "Alright. Maybe next time."
The group walked past, still talking and laughing. Haruki sat back down slowly. His bento was cold now. But for the first time in weeks, he felt something stir inside.
Maybe? next time?
---
The final bell rang, and students flooded the hallway, chattering about cram school and club meetings. Haruki walked past them, silent as always. But just as he reached the gates, he saw them again - Yuto and his friends, joking near the vending machines.
Yuto caught his eye and waved.
Haruki looked away and kept walking.
But he didn't put on his earphones this time.
He wanted to hear the world a little more.
The next day was overcast, the sky a dull gray above Tokyo's restless skyline. The kind of weather that matched Haruki's thoughts.
The day passed in the usual blur of lectures, notes, and hollow praise. "Excellent work, Aozora-kun," the math teacher said. Haruki nodded but didn't feel proud. He couldn't remember the last time he had.
When the lunch bell rang, Haruki found himself hesitating.
He glanced at his bag, then toward the classroom window. The sky hadn't changed. Neither had his score. But something inside him? had.
He stood, picked up his lunchbox, and walked - not toward the old stairwell this time, but around the school building.
They were there.
Yuto sat cross-legged on the ground with a bag of chips. Daiki, the loud one with spiky hair, argued passionately with Ren over which mecha anime had better physics. Shun leaned against a tree, earbuds in, bouncing a small basketball in one hand.
Yuto noticed Haruki first. "Oh! It's you again! Haruki-kun, right?"
Haruki froze. He hadn't told them his name yesterday.
Yuto pointed to his backpack. "Name tag."
Haruki looked down. Oh.
"You came," Yuto smiled, patting the grass beside him. "You can sit. We don't bite."
Haruki hesitated, then quietly sat down at the edge of the group. No one stared. No one asked questions.
They just? kept talking.
---
At first, Haruki simply listened.
They spoke about an upcoming anime movie release. Something about "Knights of Lunar Eclipse." Haruki knew it well. He'd even drawn fan art for it months ago.
Then they argued about whether a certain shounen series had gone downhill. Ren passionately defended it, citing character development, while Daiki rolled his eyes. "They've recycled the same training arc five times!"
Haruki let out a small chuckle.
Yuto noticed immediately. "Hey, he laughs!"
Flustered, Haruki looked away. "Sorry."
"No! That was great!" Yuto grinned. "You watch anime too, right?"
Haruki nodded slowly.
"Favorite?"
There was a pause.
"?Aether Chronicles," Haruki murmured.
Ren gasped. "Yo! The soundtrack of that anime is a masterpiece!"
"Right?" Haruki said, a bit too quickly. "Yuki Aihara's compositions always hit emotionally at the right moment, especially in the final fight scene of season two - "
He stopped himself. His cheeks turned pink.
They were all staring at him.
And then - Yuto clapped. "Dude! That's the energy we live for!"
Haruki blinked.
No mocking. No judgment. Just? excitement.
"I haven't talked about anime like that in a long time," he said quietly.
"Well, now you have four anime freaks to talk to every day," Daiki said, flopping down beside him. "Welcome to the dark side."
Shun tossed a chip in his mouth. "We have Pocky too."
Haruki smiled. Genuinely this time.
---
After school, Haruki stayed behind to clean the blackboard. When he returned to grab his bag, something was missing.
His sketchbook.
Panic hit like a jolt of electricity.
He searched frantically - under the desk, behind his seat - but it was gone.
Not that sketchbook. Not the one filled with anime fan art, character designs, and fantasy creatures he dared not show anyone. If anyone from class found it, they'd laugh. Or worse? tell his parents.
He dashed down the hallway, heart racing, scanning every face.
Then he saw him.
Ren Tachibana, the techy, walking toward the shoe lockers with something in hand.
Haruki rushed over.
"Ren! Wait!"
Ren turned. "Oh! This yours?"
Haruki snatched the sketchbook, clutching it tight. "Don't open it."
Ren blinked. "I didn't."
Haruki looked up in surprise.
Ren adjusted his glasses. "It was under your chair. I figured you'd want it back. Looked important."
A beat of silence.
"?Thanks," Haruki said, voice trembling slightly.
Ren smiled shyly. "Don't worry. I draw too. Only? uh, blueprints for robot girls." He laughed awkwardly.
Haruki couldn't help but laugh too. "That's oddly specific."
"We all got our thing," Ren shrugged. "And honestly? If your art's half as cool as your anime trivia, it's probably amazing."
Haruki stood there, stunned. Not because someone complimented his drawing - but because it was okay. Someone knew, and it was okay.
---
That night, Haruki sat at his desk. His textbooks lay open, but untouched. Instead, he reached for his sketchbook.
He flipped to a blank page.
Then, with quiet hands, he drew.
Not for grades. Not for college.
But for himself.
He sketched the five of them - sitting under a tree, laughing, arguing, just like earlier that day. It wasn't perfect, but it felt alive.
And for the first time in months, Haruki didn't feel alone.
He closed the book and whispered to the stars outside his window:
> "Maybe tomorrow won't be so hard."
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