I Can't Call Your Name

The next day at school, the atmosphere was unusually still as Kaito and Misaki moved through the classroom, distributing papers from opposite sides.

Kimura-sensei's stern presence at the front of the room kept everyone on edge.

At Shibuya High, a long-standing tradition marked the start of every school year: the Dream Form. And today was the day for it.

The form was straightforward but heavy. It asked students to share their plans for life after high school, their dreams for the future, and how they intended to make them real.

It was the kind of paper that looked easy to fill out but always made you stop and think longer than expected.

For most, filling it out still wasn't too difficult. But the real challenge came with the thought of who would actually read it.

Kimura-sensei didn't tolerate laziness or carelessness. If she sensed even the slightest hint of irresponsibility, she'd drag the student to her office for a full-on scolding.

That thought alone made the class uneasy. Everyone sat there in silence, mentally rehearsing their goals, double-checking to make sure nothing in their answers could get them into trouble later.

Even though Kaito was in his second year, this was his first time filling out the form. He had enrolled late the previous year and missed the orientation entirely.

As he got to know Kimura-sensei, Kaito realized that missing it might've been a blessing in disguise.

He wasn't exactly the calm, collected type when it came to tasks like this. Unlike Misaki, who seemed to breeze through things like these without breaking a sweat, Kaito often found himself getting flustered.

In fact, Misaki's form from the previous year had been posted on the school bulletin board—her name removed and with her consent—as an example for other students.

She was remarkably skilled at setting goals and planning her future, more like an adult—or perhaps even better than most adults.

Kaito, nervous, and Misaki, perfectly at ease, finished handing out the forms and returned to their seats.

The moment they sat down, Kimura-sensei checked her watch and addressed the class with a stern expression.

"We have 20 minutes left. I want all the forms on my desk before the bell rings."

The students immediately panicked, feeling that the time was far too short. A boy sitting in the front row nervously raised his hand.

"But, Sensei, I can't even write my name in that time!" he said, his voice trembling.

"Why? Is your name too long? Then shorten it!" Kimura-sensei barked, her voice sharp.

"You're second-year students now. Next year is your last. And if you still haven't figured out your dreams and goals by now, just leave the paper blank. It's not like any of you are actually going to amount to anything anyway."

Kaito felt as if her words were aimed directly at him. He swallowed hard, gripping his pen tightly.

Meanwhile, Misaki, with her neat and graceful handwriting, had already answered the first question and moved on to the second.

Kaito, however, was nervously spinning his pen, struggling to organize his thoughts. His mind raced, but no words seemed to come.

He was so caught up in his panic that he didn't even notice Kimura-sensei standing beside him, watching his blank form with a critical eye.

"Don't think too hard, sweetie. Wouldn't want you to pop a brain cell," she said mockingly.

Sitting in front of him, Touma paused for a moment, chuckling quietly to himself. Kimura-sensei immediately noticed and, without hesitation, lightly smacked the back of his head.

Startled, Touma straightened up and quickly returned to his paper, pretending to be completely focused.

Meanwhile, Kaito continued nervously scribbling and erasing, his anxiety growing with every passing second.

Kimura-sensei, having given him one last glance, moved away, slowly making her way down the aisles, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence.

When she reached the second row near the door, she paused in front of Misaki, the vice president.

Misaki noticed Kimura-sensei peering over her shoulder at her paper but didn't let it throw her off.

For a brief moment, Kimura-sensei's expression softened, a subtle hint of pride flickering across her face before she moved.

The tension in the room grew thick. Many students were sweating, their pens moving furiously as they raced against the clock.

Kaito was among them, wiping sweat from his forehead as he furiously wrote a sentence, only to erase it seconds later.

The hour and minute hands of the clock were racing around like they were late for a meeting.

By now, eraser shavings had piled up on his desk like a small mountain. Whether Kaito was trying a new tactic or simply panicking.

Just as the bell rang, his frantic erasing tore a chunk out of the paper, leaving a gaping hole right in the middle.

Meanwhile, the rest of the students jumped to their feet like soldiers and rushed to place their forms on Kimura-sensei's desk.

Without waiting for a response, the students hurried out of the room, eager to escape without facing Kimura-sensei's wrath.

Kaito was the last one to leave. As he approached the desk to drop off his form, Kimura-sensei suddenly stood up and called out while heading for the door.

"You're the class president, right? Leave the forms in my office."

Kaito let out a deep sigh of relief. He carefully slid his torn, completely blank form into the middle of the stack, avoiding any direct eye contact with Kimura-sensei.

Grateful to have escaped a direct confrontation, he quickly followed Kimura-sensei out of the classroom. As he walked down the hallway, his thoughts wandered to Misaki.

Curiosity gnawed at him. Unable to resist, he discreetly flipped through the papers, just enough to catch a glimpse of the name section before moving on.

"I wonder what Misaki's dream is," he mused quietly.

But then, realizing how suspicious it might look if anyone saw, his heart raced. Panic set in, and he quickly stopped.

When Kaito reached Kimura-sensei's office, he carefully placed the stack of forms on her desk, ensuring everything was neat before leaving. He had no idea he would be back there sooner than he expected.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, the class began gathering their things, ready to leave.

Just then, a student from another class walked in, holding a piece of paper and announcing loudly to the room.

"Kimura-sensei requests Kaito Kobayashi and Misaki Okada to report to her office immediately!"

Misaki's reaction was immediate. Like a bolt of lightning, she spun around and shot Kaito a fierce glare from across the room.

Her sudden movement sent her hair flying into her face. Brushing it aside with a sharp motion, she took a deep breath and stormed out of the classroom.

Kaito's stomach dropped as he made his way out of the classroom, he had a sinking feeling that he was being called because of his blank form.

But Misaki? He couldn't figure out why she would be summoned too. The unanswered questions buzzed in his head like an annoying swarm of flies.

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he reluctantly walked down the hallway.

Outside the classroom, Misaki was already waiting by the window, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed.

Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor, a clear sign of her frustration.

Kaito approached Misaki, his gaze avoiding hers as he said nothing. Without a word between them, they began walking side by side toward Kimura-sensei's office.

When they arrived, Misaki knocked softly a few times, then leaned forward to listen for any sound from inside.

"I guess Sensei isn't here yet," Kaito muttered, glancing at her before stepping into the office. Misaki followed closely and quietly shut the door behind her.

She leaned back against it, her sharp eyes fixed on Kaito, who stood nervously in the middle of the office with his back to her.

"What did you do this time?" Misaki's voice broke the silence, laced with irritation.

Kaito hesitated, then slowly turned, his expression a blend of confusion and guilt. "I... I think I messed up the form," he admitted.

"But, uh, if you're also here because of a blank form—"

"A blank form?" Misaki repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. "You're not just a perv—you're an idiot too!"

Kaito's face burned with embarrassment, but before he could respond, the door creaked. Misaki quickly stepped back, her body tense.

Kimura-sensei entered, her usual stern expression in place. She didn't even glance at them as she slowly walked to her desk.

Her cold gaze swept over the room, though it didn't seem to settle on either of them. The tension in the room thickened, leaving Kaito unsure of what would come next.

Resting her chin on a clenched fist, Kimura-sensei fixed her sharp, unforgiving gaze on the two students.

The tension in the room grew thick, like the very air was holding its breath, waiting for something to snap—preferably Kaito's sanity.