My name is Yura Hagira.
I'm sixteen years old, a second-year student at Yajima High School, and, as far as I'm concerned, I'm nobody special.
I'm not handsome. I'm not athletic. My grades are terrible, and I'm pretty sure some of my classmates find me creepy.
Honestly, I don't blame them.
I'm the kind of guy who would rather spend his afternoon reading manga than talking to people. I don't belong to any clubs, mostly because clubs take up the precious hours I could spend at home watching anime or reading the latest volume of whatever series has me hooked that week.
School isn't exactly my strong point, either.
Most of my grades hover around a D+. If I'm lucky—and if the teacher happens to be in a good mood when handing back the exams—I might scrape a C-.
My future?
I haven't thought much about it.
I just go wherever life takes me.
That's probably why I don't have many friends.
Actually, I only have one.
Fjornir.
And somehow, he's the complete opposite of me.
He's good-looking, charming, confident, and somehow manages to get along with almost everyone. Girls like him. Guys like him. Teachers seem to like him.
If there were such a thing as a "popular high-school student" stereotype, Fjornir would probably be the person they based it on.
I have no idea why he still hangs around with me.
But I'm glad he does.
Even if most of what he talks about is girls.
Girls I don't know.
Girls I've never talked to.
Girls who, frankly, might as well be characters from another manga.
Not that I care.
...Okay, maybe I care a little.
But I have more important things to worry about.
Like finishing the manga I'm reading.
Ring!
The final bell rang, and the classroom immediately came alive.
Chairs scraped against the floor. Bags were thrown over shoulders. Everyone started making plans for the afternoon.
"Karaoke!"
"No way, we're going shopping first!"
"Wait for me!"
One by one, my classmates disappeared through the door.
I stayed where I was.
The newest volume of my favorite manga was open on my desk, and I had absolutely no reason to leave yet.
I turned the page.
The protagonist of the manga was a handsome, brilliant student who seemed to get whatever he wanted.
Girls surrounded him.
Guys respected him.
Teachers praised him.
He walked through school like he owned the place.
I stared at the page for a moment.
"It must be nice being handsome and smart."
"Want to be handsome and smart?"
I nearly jumped out of my chair.
I turned around.
Fjornir was standing behind me, grinning.
"How long have you been there?"
"Long enough."
"I wasn't saying I wanted to be like him."
"You literally just said you wanted to be handsome and smart."
"I said it'd be nice."
"Same thing."
"It's not."
He laughed and dropped into the seat beside mine.
I sighed and returned my attention to the manga.
Fjornir leaned over my shoulder.
"You know, you could probably improve your grades if you studied instead of reading that stuff."
"I could also become a professional athlete if I exercised."
"That's different."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"Exactly."
He laughed again.
That was Fjornir.
He could make a conversation out of absolutely nothing.
Eventually, I closed the manga and put it into my bag.
"Anyway, I'm heading home."
Fjornir stood up.
"See you tomorrow."
"Yeah."
I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the door.
Just before I left, I glanced back.
Fjornir was still standing there.
He raised a hand and waved.
I waved back.
I still didn't understand him.
Why did someone like him bother spending time with someone like me?
I wasn't interesting.
I wasn't funny.
I wasn't good at school.
I wasn't particularly good-looking.
I wasn't good at sports.
I wasn't good at much of anything, really.
And yet he'd been my best friend for years.
Maybe some things didn't need an explanation.
I left the classroom.
The bus ride home was quiet.
I found a seat by the window and watched the city slide past.
People walking home.
Cars stopping at intersections.
Students laughing together in groups.
Normal things.
A normal day.
A normal life.
Mine was pretty boring.
And, honestly, I was fine with that.
I didn't have any grand ambitions.
No dream university.
No dream career.
No girlfriend waiting for me at home.
No secret talent that would suddenly make everyone notice me.
Just school.
Manga.
Anime.
And whatever tomorrow happened to bring.
The bus eventually stopped near my house.
I got off, walked the remaining distance, and unlocked the front door.
"I'm home."
Silence.
Of course.
I took off my shoes and stepped inside.
On the kitchen table was a piece of paper.
I picked it up.
Sorry! We have a surprise honeymoon this weekend!
Love, Mom and Dad.
I stared at it.
"...Again?"
My parents were like that.
They worked constantly, traveled constantly, and occasionally disappeared for days because of work—or because they decided they needed another "date."
I had gotten used to it.
I put the note down.
Then I heard footsteps.
"Big brother!"
I turned around.
A small girl came running into the kitchen.
"Hey, Yunji."
My twelve-year-old sister stood in front of me with her arms crossed.
"I'm hungry."
"That's nice."
"Cook something."
"You could ask nicely."
"Please cook something."
"Much better."
Yunji smiled.
She had recently moved in with us after living with our grandfather for a while.
And despite being twelve, she had somehow already mastered the art of ordering her older brother around.
I put my bag down.
"I was going to rest."
"You were going to read manga."
"...How did you know?"
"Because you always say you're going to rest and then disappear into your room."
She wasn't wrong.
I sighed.
"Fine. I'll make omurice."
"Yay!"
"But you wash the dishes."
"Okay!"
I wasn't a great cook.
But I knew enough to survive.
And, considering how useless I was at most other things, I was at least decent at housework.
I prepared the rice, made the omelet, and somehow managed not to burn anything.
Yunji ate happily.
I cleaned the kitchen while she watched television.
Then I finally escaped to my room.
My bed.
My manga.
Peace.
I opened the newest volume and immediately lost track of everything else.
One chapter became two.
Two became four.
Before I realized it, the room had gone completely dark.
I looked toward the window.
"...Huh."
It was nighttime.
I reached for my phone.
The screen lit up.
1 new message.
The sender caught my attention.
VIXLO Corporation.
I frowned.
"VIXLO?"
I didn't recognize the name.
Probably spam.
I swiped the notification away and went back to reading.
A few seconds later—
Buzz.
Another message.
This time, from Fjornir.
Open the VIXLO mail.
I stared at the screen.
Then at the VIXLO notification.
Then back at Fjornir's message.
"So that's what he meant."
Back at school, he'd said:
Tonight, you get mail.
I'd assumed he was joking.
Apparently not.
I opened the VIXLO message.
There was no advertisement.
No introduction.
No explanation.
Just a short message.
My eyes moved slowly across the screen.
I stopped reading.
For the first time that day, I wasn't thinking about manga.
I wasn't thinking about school.
I wasn't thinking about my grades.
I wasn't even thinking about Fjornir.
I was staring at a message that should never have been sent to me.
And beneath it was a single line.
Yura Hagira, you have been selected.
I read it again.
Then again.
My heart began to beat faster.
Selected for what?
I scrolled down.
There was only one button.
ACCEPT
I stared at it.
I had no idea what VIXLO Corporation wanted from me.
I had no idea why they knew my name.
And I certainly had no idea that pressing that button would change my life forever.