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MidReal Story
The Boy Who Livest
Scenario:A Japanese high school boy ready for his new school
Create my version of this story
Kaito Ishida
male. He is a new transfer student at an elite high school called Shinto Katsuragi High. He is cautious,introspective,and determined. Kaito is adjusting to a new environment after moving from a poor neighborhood in Osaka to live with his aunt in Kyoto. He is nervous about making friends and navigating social dynamics,but he is focused on gaining admission to a prestigious university. Kaito struggles with the pressure from expectations,particularly from his aunt who hopes he will turn his life around.
Aunt Akane
female. She is Kaito's aunt living in Kyoto. She is supportive,hopeful,and determined. After years of struggling financially in Osaka,she offers Kaito a fresh start by taking him under her wing. Akane works hard to provide for Kaito's new life,including buying him nice clothes and food. Her expectations for Kaito are high as she envisions a better future for him through his education. Her relationship with Kaito is nurturing yet filled with underlying tension about meeting expectations.
Shizuku Yoshida
female. She is a student at Shinto Katsuragi High School. She is imaginative,lonely,and curious. Shizuku often daydreams and creates stories involving characters like herself and her desired friends. She struggles to make friends and stands alone at school,often feeling invisible. Despite this,she dreams of finding true companions and enjoys writing stories. Shizuku finds solace in books and creative writing,using her vivid imagination to cope with her isolated life.
I am Kaito Ishida, a new transfer student at Shinto Katsuragi High School.
I was supposed to be on summer break right now, but I had no choice but to come to this school in the middle of the semester.
My father went bankrupt, and my family was broken up.
I moved to Kyoto to live with my aunt.
I thought it would be nice to have a fresh start, but I was not looking forward to going to a new school.
I was terrified.
What if I did not make any friends?
What if the teachers and students were mean to me?
I did not want to go to school, but I knew I had to.
If I did not go to school, I would never be able to get into a good university.
My aunt expected me to turn my life around and become successful.
She bought me nice clothes and food, so I felt obligated to make her proud.
I did not want to let her down.
Before I knew it, the summer break was over, and it was time for me to start my new school.
I put on my school uniform and grabbed my backpack.
I took one last look in the mirror before I left the house.
"You will do fine," I told myself.
I pause at the front gate, taking in the traditional architecture of my aunt's house.
The morning air is crisp and clean, carrying the scent of wet grass and the distant hint of incense from a nearby temple.
The sound of birds chirping fills the air, accompanied by the occasional distant rumble of a car engine.
I take a moment to check my phone for the time - 7:15 AM.
Plenty of time before first bell.
As I turn to leave, a bicycle whizzes past me, making me jump.
I watch as two students, dressed in uniforms that look familiar, pedal away quickly.
Their laughter and chatter fade into the distance as they turn the corner.
I take a deep breath, step forward, and begin my walk to Shinto Katsuragi High School.
Following the winding streets between traditional houses, I check my phone's map every few minutes to make sure I stay on course.
The scenery changes gradually, with the traditional houses giving way to more modern buildings and shops.
The school building comes into view - a large, imposing five-story structure of glass and concrete that seems to tower over its surroundings.
Other students stream through the front gates in their crisp uniforms, chatting in tight-knit groups.
I adjust my new backpack and straighten my tie, trying to look as confident as possible as I join the flow of students.
As I make my way through the school gates, I can't help but feel a mix of nerves and excitement.
The sound of chatter fills the air, punctuated by the occasional bell or announcement over the loudspeaker.
I follow the crowd towards the main building, taking in the sights and sounds of my new school.
The hallways are lined with lockers and classrooms, each one filled with students rushing to get to their next class.
I find an empty spot near the shoe lockers and fumble with my combination lock, trying to remember the code I set earlier that morning.
As I work on my locker, I glance around at the room numbers above the doors, trying to get a sense of where my classes will be. Just as I finally get my locker open, I hear a voice behind me say, "Hi."
I turn to see a girl standing next to me, her short black hair pulled back in a ponytail.
She's wearing a bright smile on her face, and her eyes are fixed intently on me.
I freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do.
Do I wave back?
Do I try to start a conversation?
I turn around slowly, my fingers still wrapped around the stubborn lock.
The girl's warm brown eyes meet mine as she points to the class roster taped above the lockers.
"2-B, right? I saw your name during morning assembly - Ishida Kaito."
Her voice is soft but clear.
I nod, relieved to have someone acknowledge me, and finally manage to open my locker.
As I swap my outdoor shoes for indoor ones, she introduces herself as Yoshida Shizuku.
She waits patiently while I arrange my shoes, then gestures toward the stairwell.
"Our classroom is on the second floor. Want to walk together?"
Before I can respond, the warning bell rings, its sharp chime echoing through the now-emptying hallway.
"Sure, I'd like that," I reply, trying to mask my relief with a casual tone.
As we start up the stairs, Shizuku leans in slightly and whispers, "I heard some teachers talking about you this morning; they said you're here because of something big."
I hesitate, then decide honesty might be the best path forward. "Yeah, my dad's company went under, and everything changed overnight."
She nods thoughtfully, her ponytail bobbing with the motion.
"I transferred here from Osaka last spring," she says, her voice softening.
"For a few weeks, I ate lunch alone in the library every day."
We reach the second-floor landing, and she pauses to glance out the window at the morning sunlight.
"My parents got divorced, and my mom moved here to be closer to her family. I didn't know anyone in Kyoto at first, so it was pretty tough."
She turns back to me, her eyes filled with understanding.
"I still haven't made many close friends here, but it's getting better."
She smiles wistfully.
"I recognized that look in your eyes this morning because I've been there too."
I grip the strap of my backpack a little tighter, struck by how much we have in common already.
"Thanks for sharing that," I say, feeling a bit more at ease.
Shizuku gives a small nod, her smile growing warmer.
"Let's stick together, then," she suggests, her tone light yet sincere.
Walking beside her down the second-floor hallway, I notice how her shoulders relax a little as she points out the signs on the classroom doors.
The morning sunlight streams in through the windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor tiles.
Other students rush past us, their footsteps echoing against the walls, but Shizuku keeps a steady, unhurried pace.
When we reach Class 2-B, she slides the door open and gestures for me to enter first.
I hesitate at the doorway, scanning the rows of occupied desks where students chat in small groups.
The morning light streams through the tall windows, illuminating floating dust particles in the air.
Shizuku gently touches my elbow, guiding me toward two empty desks near the back.
As we walk down the aisle, conversations pause and curious eyes follow us.
A tall boy with an athlete's build deliberately sticks his foot out, but Shizuku notices and steers me around it.
We reach the desks, and I set my bag down while she pulls out her chair.
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of new beginnings settle into something lighter.
I turn to face Shizuku at her desk next to mine, my hands still gripping the edges of my chair.
The morning sunlight streams through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow on her gentle expression as she arranges her textbooks on the desk.
Other students continue stealing glances at us, their whispers barely audible over the ambient noise of the classroom.
The tall athlete who tried to trip me earlier watches us with narrowed eyes from two rows ahead.
Despite the tension in the air, I lean slightly toward Shizuku and quietly say, "Thank you for helping me."
She looks up, her eyes meeting mine with a hint of surprise.
Then, she offers a soft smile and says, "You're welcome."
She turns her attention back to arranging her pencils in perfect rows on the desk.
The classroom door slides open with a sharp clatter, and our homeroom teacher strides in wearing a navy suit.
The students scramble to their seats, the squeaking of chair legs against the floor filling the air.
The tall athlete who tried to trip me earlier slouches in his seat, still shooting dirty looks over his shoulder.
When the teacher calls for silence, Shizuku catches my eye and gives a subtle nod.
I sit up straight at my desk, my eyes fixed on the teacher as he writes his name in precise strokes on the blackboard.
The chalk scratches against the surface, leaving behind a trail of white dust.
He turns to face us, his glasses glinting under the fluorescent lights.
"Good morning, class. I am Mr. Tanaka, your homeroom teacher for this year. I trust you have all settled into your seats and are ready to begin."
He surveys the room, his gaze lingering on each student before moving on.
"Now, let us go over today's schedule and classroom rules."
He gestures to the blackboard, where he has written a list in neat handwriting.
"First period is homeroom, followed by Japanese literature. Then we have a short break before mathematics. After that, we have science and then lunch."
He pauses to scan the room again.
"After lunch, we have history and then English. Finally, we have physical education and then dismissal."
He turns back to the blackboard and points to the list.
"Now, let us go over the classroom rules. First, you must always be on time for class. Second, you must always raise your hand before speaking. Third, you must always respect your fellow students and teachers. Fourth, you must always follow the school dress code. And fifth, you must always keep your desk clean and organized." As he speaks, I copy down each point in my notebook, my pencil moving carefully across the page.
The morning sunlight casts long shadows across my desk as I write.
When I finish copying down the last point, I look up to see Mr. Tanaka watching me with a hint of approval in his eyes.
"Now," he says, turning back to face the class.
"I would like to introduce our new transfer student."
My heart skips a beat as he gestures toward me.
"Please stand up and introduce yourself," he says.
I grip the edges of my desk tightly and push my chair back slowly.
As I rise to my feet, I feel all eyes in the classroom turn toward me.
The tall athlete smirks at me from two rows ahead while Shizuku offers me an encouraging glance from her seat next to mine.
I clear my throat, trying to steady my voice.
"My name is Yuki Nakamura," I say, forcing a smile.
The tall athlete leans back in his chair and mutters loud enough for everyone to hear, "Let's see if this one lasts longer than the last."
I grip my desk tighter and force the words out despite his sneer.
"I moved here from Osaka and hope to make new friends here."
My voice comes out steadier than I expected, but sweat dampens my palms.
A few students whisper and giggle, while others stare blankly at their phones.
The athlete, whose name tag reads "Yamato," rolls his eyes dramatically and pretends to fall asleep on his desk, making nearby students laugh.
Mr. Tanaka clears his throat disapprovingly at Yamato but says nothing.
As I sink back into my chair, Shizuku discreetly slides a folded note onto my desk.
I unfold it to find a single word: "Courage."
I slide the folded note into my uniform pocket, my fingers lingering on its crisp edges.
The paper crinkles softly as I shift in my seat, straightening my posture to match Shizuku's composed demeanor beside me.
Mr. Tanaka begins his lecture on classical literature, his chalk scratching against the blackboard.
While copying notes, I notice Yamato's shoulders tense when he glances back at me again.
Though his glare still unsettles me, Shizuku's presence and her written encouragement help me focus on Mr. Tanaka's words instead.
I grip my pencil tightly as Mr. Tanaka talks about "Kokoro," a novel by Natsume Soseki.
I studied it at my previous school, and passages flood my mind.
The protagonist's inner conflict and his struggle to find meaning in a changing world echo in my thoughts.
"Can anyone tell me about the protagonist's inner conflict in 'Kokoro'?"
Mr. Tanaka asks, scanning the room.
Yamato snickers from two rows ahead, but I ignore him.
Slowly, I raise my hand, feeling the weight of all eyes on me.
The classroom falls silent.
Mr. Tanaka's eyebrows lift in surprise, and he nods for me to speak.
Shizuku shifts in her seat beside me, her attention fixed on my response.
My heart pounds as I stand, gripping the edge of my desk.
"The protagonist struggles with guilt and isolation," I say, my voice gaining strength with each word.
Yamato's smirk falters slightly, and Shizuku nods encouragingly beside me.
Mr. Tanaka smiles, "Very insightful, Yuki. It seems we have a literature enthusiast in our class."
I sink back into my chair, my heart still racing.
Mr. Tanaka writes key themes on the blackboard as chalk dust floats in the morning sunlight.
Several students who had ignored me earlier now glance back with curious expressions.
Even Yamato has stopped his mocking looks, instead furiously scribbling notes.
"And what about the symbolism of the forest in 'Kokoro'?"
Mr. Tanaka asks, turning to face the class again.
Three students turn to look at me expectantly.
Beside me, Shizuku slides another note across her desk.
This one reads: "See? You belong here."
I tuck the note into my pocket, feeling a newfound sense of belonging.
I raise my hand again, this time with steady determination.
The feeling is different from my shaky first answer.
Mr. Tanaka nods at me while writing "Forest Symbolism" on the blackboard in neat chalk strokes.
Standing at my desk, I explain how the dense forest represents the protagonist's psychological barriers and moral confusion.
My voice carries clearly through the quiet classroom as students lean forward to listen.
Even Yamato turns completely around in his seat, his earlier mockery replaced with reluctant attention.
As I finish, Yamato raises his hand, surprising everyone.
"Actually, Yuki's right," he admits, his voice begrudging but sincere.
Shizuku whispers to me, "Looks like you've got a fan."
I lean back in my chair as Mr. Tanaka continues his lecture.
Yamato turns around again, but this time his expression isn't mocking.
Instead, he looks at me with a hint of approval.
He gestures at my notebook, pointing to something I had written.
"You're right about the forest," he whispers, "I wrote the same thing."
I slide my notebook closer so he can see it better.
He nods, his eyes scanning the page.
"See? We both agree on the symbolism," he says with a smile.
The tension from our earlier confrontation dissipates as we discuss literature in hushed voices.
Even though Mr. Tanaka shoots us a warning look, I can't help but return Yamato's friendly smile.
For the first time, I feel like I'm part of something bigger than myself.
I watch Mr. Tanaka write "Group Project: Modern Japanese Literature" on the board in large letters as the class comes to a close.
"Your task," he announces, "is to choose a contemporary Japanese novel and analyze its themes, character development, and cultural significance."
He pauses for a moment, surveying the room.
"You will work in pairs. Choose your partners wisely."
Before I can even process what this means, Yamato spins around in his chair to face my desk.
"Want to work together?" he asks, his earlier hostility completely gone.
His smile is genuine and unexpected.
I glance at Shizuku, who gives me an encouraging nod before turning back to her notes.
I turn back to Yamato, still trying to adjust to this sudden shift in his behavior.
"Sure," I reply, my voice steady despite the surprise.
As the bell rings, I realize this is just the beginning.
I pack my books slowly as the final bell rings, watching Yamato stand up and sling his bag over one shoulder.
He walks towards my desk, a relaxed smile on his face.
"Let's meet at the library in ten minutes," he suggests, glancing at his watch.
"That'll give us time to change our shoes."
I nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.
Yamato gives me a quick wave before heading towards the door.
As I gather my things, Shizuku catches up to me, whispering in my ear, "Be careful with him. He's known to ditch group work."
I pause for a moment, considering her warning.
But then I shrug it off, deciding to give this partnership a chance.
I make my way to the shoe lockers, passing students who are changing into their outdoor shoes.
As I reach my locker, I see Yamato already waiting by the entrance.
He's changed into sneakers and is tapping his foot impatiently.
When he sees me, he waves at me and mouths "hurry up."
Shizuku's warning echoes in my mind, but I push it aside and quickly change into my shoes.
When I'm done, I join Yamato at the entrance.
We stand there for a moment, waiting for the others to finish.
Suddenly, a piercing alarm cuts through the air, making us both jump.
"What's going on?" he asks, looking around in confusion.
I glance up at the classrooms above us, where students are pouring out of the rooms.
Their footsteps thunder against the floor as they rush towards the exits.
Screams echo through the hallway, mingling with the sound of the alarm.
The crowd surges forward, pushing against us as everyone tries to get out of the building at once.
I see Shizuku getting knocked aside by rushing students two meters away from me.
She stumbles, dropping her books and papers all over the floor.
Yamato joins the crowd of fleeing students, but I push against the flow, trying to reach Shizuku.
I push through the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest as students shove past me.
The alarm continues blaring overhead, and I see Shizuku on her knees, desperately trying to gather her scattered belongings.
That's when I spot it - a brown leather wallet lying open on the floor.
It must have been dropped by someone in the chaos.
Without thinking, I quickly bend down and grab it, shoving it deep into my pocket.
The weight of it feels heavy against my leg.
Finally, I reach Shizuku.
She's still on her knees, desperately trying to collect her papers as feet shuffle dangerously close to her fingers.
I pull her up, and together we push through the chaos, clutching the wallet that might change everything.