I Can't Call Your Name

"Speaking of runaways, I have to run myself. A big company made a reservation for tonight." Naomi said and she quickly grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and headed for the door.

But just before leaving, she paused and said, "You two should get some sleep too. You don't want to be late on your first day of school!"

As soon as Naomi left, Misaki also got up and made her way to her room.

Just as she was about to go inside, she stopped and muttered, "Um, about the dishes—"

"Don't worry about it! It's my turn this week, remember?" Kaito interrupted.

Then, Misaki went into her room and fell asleep. Kaito, after finishing the dishes, stretched out on his bed.

He picked up his phone and opened his notes, scrolling through them. His tired eyes moved aimlessly over the entries in his notes.

The list included things like Move to Tokyo, Get a girlfriend, Go to karaoke, and Watch a movie. Many of the tasks were still left undone.

Not long after, with his yet-to-be-fulfilled dreams of youth lingering in his mind, he forced himself to sleep, preparing to face another year of his high school life.

The next day, when Kaito arrived at school, a large crowd had gathered in front of the entrance.

As he navigated through the crowd, he kept glancing at the bulletin board, searching for his class assignment.

Like all the other students, he was eager to figure out which class he had been placed in and head there quickly.

Just as he was about to give up and wait for the crowd to thin out, someone pushing through the front rows caught his attention.

A chubby boy struggling to keep his glasses from slipping as he carved a path through the masses was none other than Touma Kato, 16.

The moment he spotted Kaito, a familiar grin lit up his face. He walked over and tapped Kaito on the shoulder.

"Come with me. We're in the same class again."

"So what class are we in?"

"C. We are in class 2C."

As they made their way down the corridors toward their classroom, Touma asked casually, "So, what did you do during the break? Still doing courier thing?"

"Yeah, same as always. What about you? Did you make the team this year?"

"Ah, no way! The competition was way too tough this year," Touma said with a sigh.

When they entered the classroom, another familiar face immediately caught Kaito's attention.

Standing out as she effortlessly commanded the group around her was a beautiful girl with short blonde hair and an irresistibly cutie behavior: Izumi Sasaki, 15.

The moment Izumi spotted Kaito, she waved enthusiastically, her bright smile lighting up the room. "Oh, Kobayashi-kun, you're here too!"

Kaito, never comfortable being the center of attention, stiffened as her cheerful voice rang out, drawing the gaze of their classmates.

He gave a nervous smile and a quick nod before slipping to the last seat by the window, eager to avoid any more attention.

Touma dropped into the seat in front of him with a defeated sigh, muttering, "It's like I don't even exist in this class…"

A short while later, Izumi broke away from the crowd and casually sat beside Kaito.

She crossed her legs, propped her chin on her hand, and smiled at him with curious face.

"So, Kobayashi-kun, what did you do over the break?"

Kaito knew how outgoing and social Izumi was, but her sudden closeness still put him on edge.

His streak of bad luck with girls, and their knack for putting him in awkward situations, had made him cautious.

Determined to avoid trouble, he carefully picked his words, hoping to keep the conversation short.

"Just... worked," he replied curtly, avoiding eye contact.

"Ah, really? That's so boring!" Izumi exclaimed before leaning in with sudden excitement.

"We went on a city tour! We visited a few places, even Kyoto! Oh, wait—you're from Kyoto, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Kaito mumbled, struggling to keep up as Izumi's animated chatter flowed rapidly from one topic to the next.

At that moment, the lively chatter of the entire class was abruptly silenced, as if someone had pressed pause on the chaos.

There was no mistaking it—Sakura Kimura, 36, had entered the room.

She pulled a pen from her breast pocket and tapped it against the desk a few times, despite the already dead silence and frightened eyes.

Kaito found himself momentarily frozen under the weight of her commanding aura, one that demanded respect—and perhaps a little fear.

But then, his eyes unconsciously wandered to the girl who came with Kimura-sensei.

This couldn't be real. Standing next to Kimura-sensei was none other than Misaki.

As Kimura-sensei began introducing Misaki, Kaito slouched low in his seat, hoping to disappear instantly.

"This is Misaki Okada," Kimura-sensei announced in her sharp voice.

"Due to an address change, she'll be joining us this year. I trust you'll all show her what an esteemed school we are!"

Then, Kimura-sensei turned to Misaki, her stern expression softening into a warm smile.

She gestured to the second desk from the door in the front row. "Take a seat, dear. Let's get started with the lesson."

Still adjusting to the new school and class environment, Misaki hadn't noticed Kaito among the students.

With a hesitant nod, she moved to the indicated seat and sat down.

After she was settled, Kimura-sensei introduced herself briefly and then wasted no time diving into the day's agenda.

"Let's begin by selecting the class president and vice president. If you think you're qualified for the position, raise your hand!"

Her sharp voice echoed through the quiet classroom, a stark contrast to the earlier lively chatter.

But instead of eager volunteers, there was complete silence. Nobody dared make eye contact with Kimura-sensei, let alone raise their hand.

It was as if an invisible force had bound them all—or maybe, they had silently agreed beforehand to stay out of it. Seconds ticked by, and still, no one volunteered.

As Kimura-sensei strolled between the desks, the sharp sound of her heels echoed through the silent classroom, adding to the tension in the air.

Wherever she passed, students broke into a cold sweat, each silently praying she wouldn't stop by their desk, as if her presence alone could determine their fate.

Reaching the front of the room, a sly idea crossed her mind. She turned back toward the students, ready to cast her net and reel in a few unsuspecting victims.

"No volunteers? Is that so? Very well then... I'll just have to randomly pick from those who didn't raise their hand."

Adjusting her glasses with a devious smile, she scanned the room, her gaze like a hawk hunting for mice.

Kaito froze as her piercing gaze locked onto him. To his shock and disbelief, he realized his hand was the only one raised in the entire class.

He expected everyone to do the same. But no—he stood there awkwardly, feeling like a total idiot. By the time he realized it, it was already too late.

"You! The innocent-looking boy in the back row—come up here!"

Kimura-sensei's voice cut through the silence, making Kaito flinch.

Resigned to his fate, he stood up reluctantly, his gaze fixed on the floor as he shuffled toward the front of the class.

He stood at there, feeling utterly defeated as he endured the secretive smirks and amused glances of his classmates.

For a moment, he glanced at Misaki out of the corner of his eye. She seemed completely unaware of him, her gaze fixed on Kimura-sensei with absentminded eyes.

"Alright," Kimura-sensei said, her voice slicing through the tension in the room.

"Who wants to volunteer as the vice class president?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge. As her sharp eyes scanned the room, not a single student dared to move a muscle.

Misaki's wandering eyes finally landed on the boy standing at the front. Her chest tightened as recognition set in.

No way, this had to be a cruel twist of fate, Kaito, in her class? She couldn't think straight!

Shocked and frustrated, she slammed her hand on the desk and stood up. The noise caught everyone's attention.

Kimura-sensei's eyes brightened for a fleeting moment. "Finally, a volunteer! Okada-san, isn't it? Come on up."

Misaki froze, the weight of her rash action sinking in. Her wide, stunned eyes darted to Kimura-sensei. "Wait, no, I—"

But it was already too late. The decision was made. Reluctantly, she walked to the front and stood beside Kaito.

The two exchanged quick, awkward glances, tension hanging between them as if the entire class wasn't already staring.

Kimura-sensei gestured toward them with a satisfied smile. "And there you have it—your class president and vice president for the year."

The class relaxed, relieved that the selection was finally over. But for Kaito and Misaki, the tension only grew.

Standing together, they both thought: Could this get any worse?