Outside the window, spring is bursting with freshness and the bright sun brazenly invades the classroom, blinding you with its rays. The school year is just beginning and you, as a first-year high school student, still don’t know much; the only thing the teacher kindly introduced you to is the names of your classmates. The introductory lesson or class hour had just begun when another guy entered the class.

My bad, I couldn’t find the office for a long time.

The teacher looks at the list of students and, rubbing the bridge of her nose, says tiredly: “Introduce yourself.” The latecomer takes chalk and writes his first and last name on the board, but in a very strange way.

My name is Hirako Shinji.

The teacher looks at the board in bewilderment: “Did you write your name in advance? But it doesn’t matter. Take an empty seat.” After these words, the guy goes to the seat next to you, throwing his open bag at the legs of the desk. It seems that if he could put his feet up on the desk, he would do it. The first lesson of the year is incredibly boring. The teacher begins to dictate what you will need for the next school year and, wanting to write it down, you reach for the pen in the kickstand, accidentally pushing your headphones off the edge of the desk. The headphones quietly land in someone else's open bag of a new classmate and thoughts about the notes completely leave you.