CHAPTER ONE:
If one never tells a child that the sky is blue, it will take them months to figure it out. The child knows what blue is and they have some vague idea of what the sky is, but it takes children forever to recognize that the sky is a thing capable of having a color. Months to narrow down the difference between air, which is colorless, and the sky, which is blue. It's a strange science experiment for sure. Can't be too surprised by the results though. Even the human adult's ability to see what's right in front of them is laughable. The obvious can stare a man in the face for his entire life and it will take him years to figure it out.
An alarm blares from the bedside. A sleepy hand reaches out from under the covers, shaking from the cold. Blindly, it feels for the smooth plastic of the snooze button. Back to the safe warmth of sleep. This repeats throughout the morning. At least until Jun remembers what day it is. It's Monday. He sits upright, letting the covers fall off his shoulders.
Barely awake, he stumbles into his uniform. It's too big. He'd gotten a few sizes too big originally, in hopes he'd grow into it. Jun is eighteen now, it's his final year of highschool, if it doesn't fit now, it likely never will.
Jun makes a quick stop to the bathroom to make sure his hair covers his ear piercings before heading down the stairs. It's one of the few rebellious things about him. Mom reluctantly took him to get his first piercings, but he hasn't gotten around to telling her about the ones in his upper ear. His parents likely wouldn't kill him, but he is convinced they wouldn't approve, especially if he got in trouble for the minor dress code violation in class.
Both of his parents are sitting at the breakfast table, his father enjoying a cup of coffee while his mother finishes what's left of last night's dinner. Jun scarfs down a bowl of plain rice whilst his mom chuckles. Jun's father isn't quite so amused. The man is content to let Jun figure out the finer points of adulthood and not make a fool of oneself on his own. He merely raises an eyebrow, "up too late on the phone with your girlfriend again?"
Jun nearly chokes on his breakfast. His mother puts her hand over her mouth to hide the smile poking through. "No- Mika-San is not my- she needed help with math."
"Well, that's very nice of you, but you've got to go to bed at a reasonable hour or else neither of you are going to be any good with numbers come time for class."
"Oh, don't be so harsh. You were the same way at his age."
By the time his mother speaks, the little bowl is empty and in the sink. He grabs his bag off of the table and bows a hurried 'excuse me' before struggling to put his shoes on fast enough in the genkan and running out the door. At least, that was the plan. His mother stops him with a tug to the back of his uniform. She turns him around and pulls her son down to eye level. "Now wait just a minute. You're never going to get a girl to look your way with all that hair in your face."
"Mom." Jun can never really get a word in. She hands him a bento box.
"Remember what I said about the Christmas cake? It's not too soon to start looking, and you should have better luck if you look good yourself." The Christmas cake is an old metaphor for unmarried women, Jun always found the comparison odd. The old saying goes that a girl is like a Christmas cake because nobody wants her after her twenty-fifth birthday. It's horribly outdated, but Jun doesn't challenge it when it comes from his mother. She smiles and parts his hair down the middle and out of his face. "There you are."
"I've been here the whole time." He pecks her cheek and heads out the door for real this time. As soon as the door is shut behind him, he makes a run for it. His hair, ruined immediately by the passing wind. The chilly morning in Japan bites at his earrings and the back of his throat. Jun is terribly out of shape, thin as a twig and easily winded.
He stops to catch his breath, noticing an elderly neighbor of his struggling with a bag of fish pellets. Old man Ito-Sama, Jun calls him. He's a widow, dresses in very traditional clothing and keeps his long white hair in a bun. Usually he has a walking stick, likely to play up the old man shtick. Jun calls out across the street, "Do you need help with that?"
"No, no. I've got it." Ito-Sama looks like he's going to hurt himself. The rejection of help is clearly out of politeness rather than honesty. Jun takes a deep breath and jogs across the street, taking the hefty bag of fish food off the man's back. He hoists it up and into the wooden dispenser barrel he uses to auto feed the koi in his pond. It's a strange clock like contraption with gears and multiple moving parts.
Jun remembers thinking the old man was a wizard when he was younger. Everything about him is so strange, yet familiar. The old man stands up a little straighter and thanks Jun, inviting him in for hot chocolate, but Jun hasn't the time for any more detours. He doesn't even have time for this detour as is.
Jun arrives late to his homeroom, taking his seat in the back by the window. Cassidy-Sensei has just started role-call. She stands up front behind her little podium, dressed in a soft pink turtleneck sweater and a pencil skirt that's too tight. She's a foreigner. Jun can't tell where from. She teaches English, most English teachers are foreigners. He wants to say she's an American, but that feels like a bold assumption. He's afraid to ask. The woman seems out to get him enough as is. "... Junichi Shiro."
"Here."
"And late. Arriving before I call your name doesn't make you on time." She says. At least that's what Jun thinks she said. Her Japanese isn't great. Teaching English, she hasn't much reason to be any good in Japanese, anyway. "I'll see you in detention after hours. Am I clear?"
"Yes." Jun keeps his head down, peeking over to the empty desk on his left. That's where Mika usually sits. He furrows his brows. Hopefully, she didn't sleep through her alarm again.
"Mika Suzu?" The teacher looks up to see Mika slipping through the sliding door.
"Here!" She waves with a nervous smile as she heads to her seat. The teacher makes no comment about her lateness. It's only ever a problem when Shiro does it. It's clearly targeted, but pointing it out can only make it worse, so Jun keeps his mouth shut. Jun is the type that sits in the back corner, never says a word or causes trouble. If not for his family's reputation, he would blend into the background. He's polite, obedient and shy. It makes no sense. She smiles at him, occasionally compliments his hair, yet seems to take every opportunity to mark him for misbehavior.
The rest of the school day is unremarkable. Same classes, same people, same expectations. The only difference between today and any other day is that Jun doesn't get to go home with everyone else. He slides the door to his homeroom open to find his teacher without the sweater. He assumes she took it off when it warmed up. Her button up dress shirt is undone just enough to show her cleavage. Not an uncommon sight, with her in particular. She's always been the most lenient with the teacher's dress code. What strikes Jun as odd is the fact that he's the only person there.
He's the only person she called into detention. She made sure of it. She smiles like a hyena at fresh meat. Jun swallows thick. "Have a seat, Shiro-Kun"
He goes to take a seat in one of the desk chairs before she stops him. "On the desk."
"Like?" He knocks on the wooden tabletop.
"Yes."
He gets up from the chair and sits on the edge of the desk, confused. She walks closer, pulling at a necklace right above her cleavage. She bends at the hip, leaning forward, putting a hand on the desk for support as her bust pushes closer to Jun's face. "You see this?"
"Yes, Sensei." Jun puts his bag in his lap, shifting uncomfortably.
"Pretty isn't it?" The pendant at the end of the chain is shaped like a fish. It looks like something from a tourist trap.
