A Gleam Of Chaos

Chapter 1-The Beginning-Enjoying The 'Boring School Life'

[A/N: Hello this is my first ever webnovel or  whatever you would like to call it. Feel free to criticize  it because I personally think that it would be trash. If there are any mistakes or suggestions please tell me in the comment section (So then, I wish you a good read!)<also I would appreciate it if you would read this chapter until the end with heart, please>]  

Sakura High School unfolded its daily ritual beneath a pale, unassuming sky. The courtyard, a canvas of worn concrete and tired grass, cradled the footsteps of students who trudged to their respective destinations. Cherry blossom petals, bereft of the ethereal allure they held in stories, clung to the ground like forgotten confetti.

Amid the sea of uniformed figures, Akira Mirakuru melded seamlessly into the unremarkable tapestry. His dark hair, perpetually unruly, framed a face that bore the imprint of monotony. Adjusting the strap of his nondescript backpack, Akira blended into the currents of teenagers navigating the daily maze.

A muffled hum of conversations, an indistinct murmur, accompanied Akira as he moved. Groups of students lingered beneath the aging cherry blossom trees, their laughter a low hum. Vendors peddled lukewarm snacks, their scents muted by the pervasive aroma of familiarity.

Akira's destination, Classroom 2-B, loomed ahead—a standard door with peeling paint that hinted at years of indifference. The doorway offered a portal to another day of predictable lectures, scribbled notes, and the unchanging routine of adolescence.

Entering the classroom, Akira found his seat, worn and comfortingly uncomfortable. The shuffling of papers and creaking of desks underscored the banality of it all. The teacher, a silhouette against beige walls, began the lesson—a formulaic script that unfolded like countless days before.

The school day meandered on, dragging its feet through a symphony of dull lectures and listless breaks. Akira found solace in the predictable cadence of routine, his desk serving as a familiar outpost in the sea of conformity. In the adjacent seat, Hiroshi Tanaka, the epitome of averageness, unfolded a neatly creased worksheet with an air of resigned acceptance.

"Hey, Akira," Hiroshi mumbled, his voice blending seamlessly with the background noise of the classroom. "You catch the game last night?"

Akira shook his head, his gaze fixed on the window. "Nah, I had to finish that history assignment."

Hiroshi sighed, scribbling half-hearted notes on the worksheet. "You're a real workhorse, Akira. I just can't keep up."

A grin played on Akira's lips, his response a mere nod. Hiroshi, with his nondescript features and perpetually half-lidded eyes, was the unofficial ambassador of mediocrity.

As the day ambled forward, Hiroshi became the voice of the mundane, a narrator of ordinary tales. He spoke of the weather, the cafeteria food, and the timeless dilemma of choosing the right extracurricular activity.

"You ever think life's just one big multiple-choice question, and we're all just trying to guess the right answer?" Hiroshi mused during lunch, poking at a lukewarm bento box.

Akira chuckled, realizing that Hiroshi, in his quest for averageness, had stumbled upon a profound truth. The bell echoed, signalling the end of the day's classes. The duo shuffled through the crowded hallways, the ebb, and flow of students carrying them toward the exit.

As they approached the school gates, Hiroshi nudged Akira. "You ever heard of Akane Kurosawa?"

Akira arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. Akane Kurosawa, the elusive ice queen of Sakura High School, was a legend among students. The mere mention of her name sent shivers down spines, and her reputation as an enigmatic and unapproachable figure had become school folklore.