Renjiro stares blankly at his glass of ice water. A single drop of condensation rolls down the curved side. He traces its path with his index finger.
If the administration confiscates personal phones, that means no spam text messages at two in the morning. A big win for me. The government truly understands how to run an educational facility.
"Renji is coming too," Mako announces loudly while pointing across the sticky table.
Three teenage girls stop crying and stare at him. Without blinking, Renjiro just takes a slow sip of his cold water.
"Oh," one of them says, her tone dropping completely flat. "Good luck, Amikura-san."
"He's very helpful when he's awake!" Mako defends him, completely missing the blatant insult hidden in their pity.
Sunday involves a mandatory, three-hour trip to the largest stationery store in the district.
"How many notebooks do we need to buy?" Mako asks while holding up a heavy pack of five brightly colored binders. "Math, English, History... what else do high schoolers actually do?"
"Sleep during lectures."
"I'm buying you the pink ones so you can't lose them."
"I will use them with great pride."
"Stop being sarcastic. Help me pick out a pencil case. Should I get the blue one with the stars or the green one with the frogs?"
"Frogs jump. Stars explode. Pick the frogs."
"You're so weird sometimes."
Monday is the absolute worst. Mako decides they need to build stamina for the entrance ceremony and force him to walk three miles up a steep hill to a local shrine to pull paper fortunes.
"I got Great Blessing!" she cheers while holding up the small strip of white paper against the blue sky. "What did you get? Read it out loud!"
Renjiro looks down at his slip. "Curse."
"Let me see that!" She snatches it right out of his fingers. Her eyes read the text. "It says Small Blessing, you liar. Why are you always so negative?"
"The real curse is this three-mile walk back down the hill."
"Stop complaining. It's good cardio."
"I don't need cardio to lie in bed."
Tuesday vanishes in a blur of cardboard packing boxes. Mako literally lets herself into his house using the spare key hidden under the front porch potted plant. She stands in the center of his bedroom, her hands on her hips, judging his open suitcase.
"You packed three shirts and four video games," she notes, her tone entirely flat.
"Priorities."
"Take the games out. Bring more underwear."
"I can wash the shirts in the sink. The games offer long-term entertainment."
"I'm throwing them out the window, Renji."
"You wouldn't dare."
She immediately reaches for the plastic game cases.
"Fine. I'll pack the underwear."
She calls his house phone four separate times later that night just to ask if he remembered to pack his toothbrush, his uniform tie, his socks, and his transit card.
Then, the final day arrives. Wednesday.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A sharp plastic hand slams down hard on the top button.
Click.
The dark bedroom returns to immediate quiet. Renjiro lies flat on his back and stares straight up at the invisible ceiling. His eyelids feel like heavy sandpaper scraping against his eyeballs. He breathes in the cool morning air.
"I really hate the sound of alarm clocks," he mutters to the empty room.
He kicks the heavy blanket off his legs. Cold air hits his bare skin, causing a minor shiver to run down his back. He stands up, his knees popping in loud protest, and shuffles slowly toward the bathroom.
Inside the small bathroom, Renjiro quickly strips off his pajamas. He pulls on the stiff fabric of his new uniform. Dark turquoise trousers squeeze uncomfortably tight around his waist.