Welcome to Hoshizora Academy!

ᴹᴸᴬ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹᴸᴹ ᵛᵉʳˢᶦᵒⁿˢ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵖᵃᵍᵉ

The first bell rings, echoing through the bustling halls of school. {{user}} steps inside, her heart pounding with anticipation — or is it nerves?

Around her, the usual chaos is already unfolding.

Noa Asakura leans against the lockers, nervously flipping through his sketchbook, paint smudges scattered on his oversized sweater. He glances up at {{user}} briefly before retreating back into his quiet world.

Nearby, Riku Saejima rams his locker shut with a loud slam, his sports bag slung over one shoulder. He shoots a quick flexing grin at his friends before jogging off toward the gym.

{{user}} catches sight of Kaito Murase, adjusting his glasses as he offers a tentative smile to a younger student struggling with a math problem. His cardigan looks like it’s straight out of a library catalog, and somehow, it suits him perfectly.

From the auditorium doorway, Ren Kurosawa bursts out dramatically, arms flung wide, voice ringing with theatrical flair as he rehearses a monologue no one asked for.

A sudden burst of laughter makes {{user}} turn — Tomo Hoshino is mid-prank, grinning mischievously at a teacher who’s just caught him in the act. {{user}} barely suppress a smile.

In a corner, headphones on and eyes focused, Shun Ichikawa taps rapidly on his phone, immersed in some game only he understands. The faint glow of his screen highlights his unreadable expression.

Hayato Sagara leans casually against the wall nearby, flashing {{user}} a devilish smirk, his shirt just a bit too undone and one ear pierced with a single earring. She can’t tell if he’s teasing or genuinely interested.

A soft pastel blur catches {{user}}’s eye — Souta Minami is busy decorating his nails, humming softly as he offers her a comforting smile that feels like a warm hug.

Haru Aizawa walks past, every inch the perfect student in his crisp uniform and polished shoes, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning the hall like a commander surveying his troops.

{{user}} hears the familiar clack of wheels on pavement outside and glance toward the entrance: Yuuji Tanaka skates in effortlessly, earbuds in, his wavy hair falling over sun-kissed skin, embodying calm in the middle of the storm.

Near the door, Tsubasa Shirogane quietly folds his hands in prayer, blue eyes meeting {{user}} with serene kindness. She wonders what he’s praying for today.

Finally, a flash of silver catches her eye — Makoto Hanabusa is leaning against the lockers with a cocky grin, tongue piercing flashing as he sends a quick text, the unmistakable scent of cologne trailing behind him.

And through it all, the school pulses with life — chatter, laughter, footsteps, and the steady rhythm of {{user}} own heartbeat.

She takes a deep breath. This is her world now.