I had landed a position in my local senior high school.
I'd already begun to regret this. My new school lurked on top of a rather steep hill, and even in this calm spring weather, anybody climbing to school would end up all hot and sweaty. It looks like there was no way I was going to be able to enjoy a simple leisurely walk to school.
Every time that thought rose up in my head, along with the realization that I'd have to repeat this trek every day for the next three years, I became more tired and depressed. I had overslept that day, and was beating myself over the head for not studying harder in middle school. If I had, I would have gotten into a better school, or at least one that wasn't situated on top of Mt. Everest (I guess that's why people in stories invent time machines...). All in all, it was pretty depressing.
That was why I was the only person wearing a grim face during the tedious, time-wasting entrance ceremony. Everybody else was wearing that "starting a new journey" look on their faces; you know, that ridiculous mix of hope and uncertainty that every new student wears when they enter a new school. It wasn't the same for me - a whole bunch of kids from my old school had transferred here, too, as well as a couple of my friends. So I didn't feel that there was anything to really be concerned about.
The guys were all wearing blazers, but us girls were wearing the traditional sailor uniform. An odd combination, I thought. Maybe that snore-inducing principle up on the stage had a fetish for sailor fuku? If I had studied harder, then maybe I wouldn't have to wear something that looks like it came straight out of a H-game... maybe I could get a petition together with all the other girls? No, too much work.
As I pondered the matter, the old man's monotonous speech finally finished, and I and my not-so-willing new classmates shuffled to our assigned classroom, 1-5.
Our homeroom teacher, Okabe-sensei, flashed a practised-in-front-of-the-mirror-for-days smile at us as she began her self-introduction. She told us that she was a PE teacher, and was the Handball team's coach. Then she mentioned that she had played for a high ranking Handball team back in college, and that the current Handball team was lacking members so you were practically guaranteed a position if you joined up, and Handball was the best sport in the world, it was also great fun, and just when I thought that my brain was about to die from the sheer amount of Handball-related crap she was telling us, she apparently ran out of things to say.
So after a slightly awkward silence, she suddenly blurted out:
"So, let's introduce ourselves!"
I couldn't say this was an uncommon event; it was pretty typical in new classes, so I wasn't surprised at all. One by one, the people on the left hand side of the classroom rose and introduced themselves to the rest of us. You know, a basic introduction - their name, which middle school they had gone too, some 'interesting' stuff about themselves; hobbies or favorite foods, that kind of thing. Some people just mumbled their way through their introductions, others were totally relaxed about theirs. A few even told lame jokes to try and ease the temperature in the room.
All the while, my turn was drawing closer and closer. A little nerve-wracking, you know what I mean?
After I had finished delivering my carefully-thought-out, minimum-length introduction without stumbling over the words too much, I sat down, relishing the feeling of completing an unpleasant but necessary task.
I'll probably never forget the next few minutes for the rest of my life.
The person behind me stood up for his turn, and begun with the words that would be topic of conversation here at North High for a long time to come. "My name is Suzumiya Haruki." he said, in a clear, crisp voice. "From East Junior High."
Up to this point, his intro had been completely normal, so I didn't bother to look around at him. I just stared straight forwards and listened to his voice.
"I have no interest in ordinary humans. If there are any aliens, time-travellers, sliders, or espers here, then come! Be my bride! That's all."
Now, that made me turn around.
Before me stood a guy with long, black hair that came down just past his neck, and a daring, challenging look upon his slightly angular face. He stared back at the gawking students with eyes blazing with determination, his lips slightly pursed.
I recall being dazzled by his white throat. A striking beauty stood before me.
Haruki let his gaze sweep across the classroom, as though daring somebody - anybody - to challenge him, before stopping to glare at me for a bit (I was gaping, mouth wide open), before dropping into his seat without so much as cracking a smile.
Was this guy serious?
Nobody knew how to react; most likely, their minds were simply full of questions.
"Were we supposed to laugh?"
Nobody knew.
In hindsight, he wasn't trying to be dramatic or funny. When it comes to stuff like that, Haruki is never joking. He's always dead serious. I learned this the hard way, later on, so I couldn't be wrong.
The fairies of silence flitted around the classroom for a full thirty seconds before Okabe-sensei, obviously flustered, gestured to the next person to continue, and the frozen atmosphere finally lifted.
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And so we met.
I desperately wish I could believe it was all just mere coincidence.