The shrill tones of the ringing bell resounded across the school, signalling the conclusion of a day spent gloriously absorbing knowledge that would likely be forgotten upon graduation. It was likely a welcome intrusion into the lives of Uchima Senior High's many students, a symbol of their regained freedom from the constant drudgery that was listening to their teachers prattle on. Usually of course, they might have been a bit more heedful, but such assiduity was hard to find at the end of the (formal) school week. It was a glorious Friday afternoon, and the teenagers were either chilling in their respective clubs or heading home to bask in the glow that was not being at school (or both, if said teenager was a member of the aptly-named "Going Home Club").
Shrouded in the shadow cast by the setting sun, the headmaster watched as students scattered across the school courtyard from his office at the top of the spire. They were like ants, busy little workers that, despite their seeming insignificance, were responsible for keeping the nest, this school, peaceful and alive. It was truly a shame then, that the order brought about by their actions was slowly being eroded away at by malevolent forces.
From the gakuran-donning delinquents squatting at the back of the school, combing their strange, regent hairstyles and engaging in macho rituals, to the barbecue club and their attempts to teach newcomers how to properly sizzle a sausage, to the student council hard at work trying to make up for the disappearance of their leader, his students continued to dart to and fro, hard at work.
Such a shame.
He turned away from the window, eyes shrouded by his glinting glasses. Those students of his were free to enjoy their youth for as long they could. It would likely be their last chance to do so in any optimal manner. The world of humans was a harsh one, after all.
Shrouded in the shadow cast by the setting sun, the headmaster watched as students scattered across the school courtyard from his office at the top of the spire. They were like ants, busy little workers that, despite their seeming insignificance, were responsible for keeping the nest, this school, peaceful and alive. It was truly a shame then, that the order brought about by their actions was slowly being eroded away at by malevolent forces.
From the gakuran-donning delinquents squatting at the back of the school, combing their strange, regent hairstyles and engaging in macho rituals, to the barbecue club and their attempts to teach newcomers how to properly sizzle a sausage, to the student council hard at work trying to make up for the disappearance of their leader, his students continued to dart to and fro, hard at work.
Such a shame.
He turned away from the window, eyes shrouded by his glinting glasses. Those students of his were free to enjoy their youth for as long they could. It would likely be their last chance to do so in any optimal manner. The world of humans was a harsh one, after all.
The time is soon ...