Some students wake to the sound of their cellphone making some pleasant noise. Others prefer their favorite song first thing in the morning. Yet more have an incessant, yet still somewhat tolerable blip tone. None of those hold true for Mizutani Hiroyuki. A seemingly ancient digital alarm clock buzzed
, loud and clear, killing whatever dreams he could have been frolicking in. The thing was a relic of the 70s or 80s- probably older than his parents, come think of it. Its yellowed, dusty plastic was once a shiny white, but the noise of the buzz and glowing time were hardly duller. Sitting on a small shelf on the floor, the alarm clock sat in the middle, surrounded by a couple sentimental knick-knacks. Lying on the futon beside the shelf, Hiroyuki sometimes bumped his head against it, resorting to place a pillow against it. Whipping his arm over the pillow and around to gently shut it off, it was all muscle memory to him at this point. Such a bothersome alarm at such a sleepy time was hardly gentle. At least it worked.
Gradually stirring and getting himself awake, Hiroyuki yawned, groggily shaking his head. His family lived out the middle-class rat race: a quiet, almost mechanical life in the residential corner of the city, bordering on the suburbs. Both his parents spent mornings to evenings at an office in the city. His elder sister and only sibling spent little time at home, staying in Kanto for college. Hiroyuki, meanwhile, was preparing for the first day of high school, half-asleep. It was a few kilometres' walk from the school: not exactly the most exciting trip over, either. Knowing he'd pass by some places to get a quick breakfast, he changed into his new uniform and got his things ready with a bit more spirit. He didn't bother to keep his hair tidy or look too sharp: not like it'd come in handy anyways.
The walk over was about as boring as it should have been. It wasn't underwhelming: that would imply he had any positive expectations. It was day one of what should be an equally boring three years ahead, so why bother deluding himself with rose-tinted sunglasses and 'friends' he'd probably never talk to again? Whatever the implications of his mindset, he at least wanted to stay true to himself. Possibly the worst betrayal was social: to reject one's own identity, only to be backstabbed, mocked, and shunned. Hiroyuki thought of his nature as nipping the problem in the bud, but it still left him in a rather bored and depressed mood. Yet he still didn't see any gain out of friendship or having to care about others. Speaking of which......Already? Ugh.
As he approached the convenience store, he had spotted a couple girls who seemed to be around his age, wearing what seemed to be Fujioka uniform. A... for lack of a better word, well-fed young lass was waving and trying to catch attention of a girl with brown hair, biking towards her from behind Hiroyuki. Looking back forward, he sighed, lightly shaking his head as he opened the door to get a snack. Well, more like unhealthy breakfast.