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Monday Mornings

  Monday morning.

  The day every student dreads, no matter the year, the major, the school, or the fake optimism.

  And you best believe I'm no exception.

  Waking up at 7 a.m. should be illegal. Like, universally banned, I feel sorry for the people who have to wake up earlier. Especially when your body feels like it was hit by an isekai truck. My alarm blared through the room, blasting the high school DxD second opening at full volume.

  Which, yes, is totally unhinged.

  But weirdly effective.

  Can’t stay in a bad mood when your ears are being seduced by anime metal. I lay there for the whole song, eyes open, staring at the ceiling like a corpse with WIFI. Then, after listening to the entire song, I finally rolled out of bed, dragging myself to the bathroom like a man about to face war.

  I brushed my teeth while glaring into the mirror like it owed me money.

  My hair was a mess, long, but not quite enough to look cool. More like I gave up halfway to having a style.

  “Ugh. I’m a mess.” I muttered, foaming at the mouth like a toothpaste zombie. Just looking at myself really made me realise just how blessed I was…

  “I need a haircut. Or an actual personality.”

  After scarfing down some instant toast and nuked coffee, I stepped into the hallway. But I didn’t head for class just yet.

  First, I have to deal with her.

  I turned to the door across from mine.

  Took a breath.

  And slammed my palm against it, like I was trying to press skip on a raid shadow legends ad on YouTube.

  “YO, SAKI TIME TO WAKE UP!”

  There was a brief pause.

  Then, through the door, in a voice dripping with sugary sarcasm and way too much energy for 7 a.m.

  “I’m awake, Oni-chaaaan!!”

  "Ngh!" I jumped, almost crapping myself, before taking a step back from the door.

  God, if you're real, please help me.

  The insanely loud and energetic voice that belonged to Saki Kannazuki, the younger sister by one year of Souta Kannazuki. Aka my sister. The cheerful, high-energy, anime-loving gremlin that somehow shared my DNA. She was everything I wasn’t: bubbly, social, confident, terminally online, and very, very into making my morning difficult.

  She also used the High School DxD opening as her alarm, the third one. Because, in her words, 'It slaps harder.'

  I stepped into her room, slowly opening the door to make sure she was actually getting somewhat ready instead of going on a binge read on her latest Light novel, but calling it a room where one would sleep and rest in was something I wouldn't call Saki's room…

  Because her room?

  Not a room

  A shrine, more like.

  A fully immersive, potentially cursed anime-convention shrine. Posters, figures, body pillows, and manga stacked like bricks, it smelled like strawberry air freshener and emotional instability.

  But I couldn’t complain.

  She was happy.

  Weird. But happy. And despite her teasing, her fake anime accents. And her tendency to greet delivery drivers with “Nyaa!” Or “Wakta Sensei," she always had my back. Even if she’d never admit it without charging me for the emotional damage. After Saki’s dramatic “Onii-chaaaan~” echo faded back into the chaos of her anime-filled lair, I let out a breath, stepped into the front hallway, and grabbed the mailbox key off the hook.

  Mail run. A daily ritual. Usually pointless, in fact, I don't know why I do it.

  Bills. Ads. Maybe a takeaway menu or a coupon for a dentist that doesn’t exist. But today? I think it was a bad mistake to check. Because only one envelope was there. One stupid, mocking envelope.

  NOTICE: RENT DUE

  “Shit…” I said to myself, picking it up from the ground as if it were some sort of germ.

  The first of the month. Or for me… Judgment Day. My fingers tightened around the paper as if squeezing it would make the number on it go away. You’d think by now I’d be used to this. Our situation wasn’t new; it’s just… complicated.

  Mom passed away the day my sister was born.

  I was just one year old. She was a newborn. My Grandparents took us in after she'd died. And you're probably thinking, Dad?

  Tsch. That bastard never showed, barely did during when mom was alive, most likely to get his urges out, but when she died, not a single peep, it was like he forgot we existed. Didn’t even call. Rumour had it that he was with Mom a lot until she had us and then slowly distanced himself…

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Whatever. Screw him. Dads are overrated anyway, at least mine is.

  But thankfully, our grandparents raised us right, even if they smothered us a bit. We lived with them all the way till last year, when Saki and I convinced them to let us move closer to campus. New city. Shared apartment.

  Full independence.

  At first, it was pretty hard to convince the two very attached grandparents, but hehe, my dear sister Saki played the angel card; those big, watery eyes of hers should be illegal, with them eyes and that I promised to find a job and cover our rent if they helped out for the first few months we manged to get the deal sealed…

  But that was two months ago.

  Now?

  I’m broke.

  No job.

  Bank account on life support.

  And rent is due today.

  “I need to find something. Fast,” I muttered, stuffing the letter into my hoodie pocket like it was radioactive.

  Right on cue, I heard the soft click of her door opening behind me.

  “Onii-chan, stressing out already? And you haven’t even had your second coffee.”

  I turned, and there she was.

  Saki.

  Fully dressed in her crisp college uniform, her dark brown hair tied back with a dark ribbon, lip gloss subtle but present, she carried herself like a perfect honour student.

  But don’t be fooled.

  That girl, though she looks like the perfect human.

  She’s actually 50% chaos, 50% anime quotes, and 100% Ayanokoji when she wants something.

  “You’re unusually put together today,” I said, eyeing her up and down.

  “What’s the occasion? Or did a hot senpai finally notice you?”

  She rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “Nope. But a girl can dream, right?” She grinned, then poked me in the chest. “You, on the other hand, look like someone who had a pillow fight with Issac Westscott”

  “That’s because I did.”

  “Did you at least win?”

  “Nope. He's still undefeated.”

  She laughed, a quick, melodic sound that didn’t match the depressing envelope in my pocket.

  “Anyway,” she added, adjusting her bag strap, “you'd better get serious about that job hunt, Onii-chan. I’m not paying rent with anime merch, especially with this new novel I've been reading; I need all the volumes.”

  I furrowed my brow, “You sure? You could probably trade one of your body pillows for a security deposit.”

  “Touch them and die.”

  Classic Saki. Hahaha…

  She spun on her heel and headed for the door. Before she stepped out, she gave me a lazy wave over her shoulder.

  “You’ll figure it out. You always do. Even if you look like hell doing it.”

  And just like that, she was gone.

  “Yeah, sure, you might think that, but damn, it's hard to find a job,” I said, my eyes gazing at the door. "In this economy, people with my lack of talent trying to land a job… I'd have a better chance of finding the one piece."

  But no matter how long I sulked and cried to find a job, sitting in the apartment wasn’t going to help.

  I guess this is it. First day of college.

  *

  Kyoto University.

  The place I never thought I’d end up. Somehow, the universe decided to stop hating me for five minutes, and I slipped through the admissions crack. Some might call me Agent Twilight, the way I got into a school that I'm significantly underqualified for. I stepped off the train and started the walk to campus, headphones in, heart pounding. As I got closer, students started spawning around me like some kind of slice-of-life MMO. Groups of friends laughing. Couples holding hands. People with actual social energy.

  And no surprise, I was in the Solo queue. Like, what were you thinking?

  As I stopped at the front of the building, staring at its magnificent size, I had some personal goals that I wanted to achieve during the next few years.

  One of my personal goals for the semester was simple:

  Make one friend.

  Not five. Not a whole circle. Just… One. Just someone, his name could be Tengen for all I care, just someone who might say “yo” when I walk past.

  “How hard could that be?” I’d asked myself last night, staring at the ceiling like an idiot.

  Turns out:

  Very.

  Everyone knew where they were going. Everyone just belonged. Meanwhile, I was just trying not to get crushed by a group of cosplay club girls wielding foam swords.

  “I swear, Saki would thrive in this place,” I muttered, looking in every direction.

  She would’ve already made twenty friends, joined six clubs, and found a way to get invited to someone’s wedding.

  And there was her socially awkward brother.

  "Let's just not get in anyone's wa-"

  SLAM.

  My foot slipped.

  The world tilted.

  My bag went flying.

  And suddenly, I was on the ground.

  More specifically: on someone.

  “Oh shi-!” I cried out, but my voice sounded muffled.

  I looked up.

  Or… Down?

  I couldn't tell, but what I did know was that I was face-first against something soft. Warm. And-

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” A voice said flatly above me. The words went straight into my ear before piercing my heart.

  I froze.

  And turned my head just enough to look up. She was staring down at me. Sharp brown eyes. Cold. Flat. Judging me like I just committed a crime. The moment my slow ass brain clicked what was going on. I scrambled off her as if I’d stepped on a landmine.

  “I-I’m so sorry! I slipped! I didn’t see you and, my foot just-”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, brushing dust off her uniform, completely unfazed. “I should report a shameless creep like you to the authorities"

  "Wait, wait! I said I didn't mean it!-"

  She didn't listen and just walked past me without another word. Cool. Collected. The picture of icy indifference. I sat there on the floor for a second, watching her as she walked away, rethinking my entire existence.

  “..I think I'm going to be the first student going to prison on their first day…"

  Someone in the distance clapped slowly. I don’t even know if it was sarcastic.

  I got up and scratched the back of my head as she disappeared into the school building, like I hadn’t just plummeted face-first into her chest two minutes ago.

  At least the rest of the trip to class went smoothly. No more accidental collisions. No more secondhand embarrassment. No more woman-shaped airbags. I wish I could say the nerves chilled out, but they only got worse the closer I got to the classroom.

  Is my teacher going to be a psycho? Will I make any friends? Can I survive without failing out by November?

  My brain wouldn’t shut up.

  I reached the door.

  Sunlight hit me straight in the eyes like karma had a sense of humour. I stepped inside, blinking past the glare, and looked around.

  The classroom was packed.

  Dozens of students, buzzing with first-day energy.

  And at the very back?

  Four girls.

  No, four goddamn visual glitches in reality.

  One blonde-haired girl with purple eyes and with a small pin in her hair.

  Another blonde-haired girl with blue eyes, who was just all natural.

  A Redhead who looked exactly like Reis freaking Gremory.

  While the rest of the room looked like it was rendered in default settings, these four were dialled up to max. Flawless skin. Movie-scene hair. Legs crossed like models in a fashion ad. They looked like they didn’t belong in a school. Or a country. Or this dimension.

  One of them, blonde, lace red top, already twirling her pen like a weapon, caught me staring and smirked. I quickly looked away, feeling like she was piercing my heart with daggers.

  And that’s when I saw her.

  Middle seat. Black hair. Brown eyes.

  Calm. Composed. Cold.

  And terrifyingly beautiful.

  Her uniform was perfect. Not a wrinkle, not a strand of hair out of place. She sat with that too-clean posture, like someone born to judge people from across the room.

  Then it hit me.

  Oh no.

  It was her.

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