Monday, April 9th
Soft light from the early spring sun filtered through the windows, casting long, warm shadows across the classroom's maple wood tables.
A gentle breeze ruffled the curtains awake, bringing in the scent of fresh-bloomed flowers.
Birds chirped by the open window, fluttering by to welcome another week of the new school year.
Another ordinary day—at least, it should have been. Typical classroom chatter, creaky wooden desks—check. Nothing different. So what's missing?
Nothing really. Unless you consider our always-punctual teacher wasn't here!
Normally, that wasn't a problem. But with their newfound freedom, my classmates would leap at the chance to do—who knows what!
Where could she be? Did something happen? An emergency?!
Unrestrained by supervision, their whispers turned into noisy screams, panic rising from a wild class left to their own devices!
This is bad—it's only a matter of time before we descend into chaos!
. . .
Okay, maybe that hasn't happened.
Yet.
For now, those were just conversations. The class was still pretty calm. Sure, the chatter was a bit louder than usual, but no surprise impulses here.
…Yeah, definitely overthinking things again.
I shifted around in my seat—tracing over the table's swirly wooden patterns—a subconscious habit that eased my worried mind.
…And there I go again with another pointless monologue.
Right… Haven't introduced myself. My name is—
"Lucent!" an energetic voice called out, breaking through my enclosed whirlwind of thoughts.
How could I forget? We've practically known each other since elementary school.
As my friend politely mentioned… That's me.
Lucent.
Lucent Kagami.
Alright, you might be thinking: Isn't it a little strange to be named "Light Mirror?"
I'd be pressed to agree if it didn't reflect me.
Most people describe me as difficult to see through; hard to read.
Honestly, I just think it makes me sound cool.
It almost worked; believed it for a while. But that didn't last long once people started staring into my glasses, all for a glimpse at their reflection.
Do people just love checking themselves out that much? Or is it the cool blue half-rims…?
Well, that's not a discussion I'll have today. It's an uncomfortable experience, for sure.
Wait, does everyone use me as a vanity mirror?
I swear, I'm not!
Even if I—!
An abrupt creak from my leaning desk reminded me of a familiar presence. "Man, zoned out? Again?" asked a dark-haired boy with emerald green eyes.
I glanced up to meet his gaze. "You know me, Gabriel."
That's Gabriel Tanoshii. We've been friends since first grade, and now we're high school seniors!
We like to draw; play the latest video game. Surprisingly, even then, our personalities were completely different.
He's a very sociable person—one whose actions tend to outrun his reason.
As in, he doesn't think things through.
I'm telling you. Planning? Not his thing.
Doesn't worry about anything before charging for it, usually leading us into what he dubs our next "Great Adventure!"
In that regard, I'm a person of few words, reserved; mysterious.
At least, I like to think so…
I could never give a speech out loud! Not willingly, not ever! Not even if my life depended on it!
Gabriel opened his sleek silver laptop in triumph. "Hey, check it out! I started note-taking for our project the other day. How's my draft?"
I peered over, impressed by the much tidier range of text boxes. "Looks like you got the hang of it. Just needed a bit of practice."
"Yup!"
"Oh, one more thing, super important!"
He switched tabs, taking the chance to flex off his shiny new high score in "Monkey Craze Blitz!"
"Uh, uh?" he nudged me on the shoulder.
I simply shook my head in disbelief.
"Whaaat? No?" he replied, as if to say your loss.
"Alright, alright, seriously though. You ready for Friday's Presentation?"
The [PROJECT DEADLINE]: A reminder that tainted my once-happy mind.
Public speaking was the worst! Facing my classmates while stumbling over words?
Yeahhh... talk about long-term dread for the entire day.
"No, not really…" I admitted, uncertainly. "I can get my ideas together. I'm just not good at… expressing them."
It didn't take long for others to figure out the strategy:
The Organizer and The Speaker.
This time, we had to trade roles instead of relying on each other too much. While I understood the reasoning, it didn't make things any better.
He made an effort to shoo off the stormy grey cloud that rumbled over my head.
"Hey, don't worry! If someone as messy as me can organize, I bet you can nail that speech!"
"...Yeah, I'm sure we'll figure it out."
Truthfully, I wasn't so sure.
But what else could we do?