Shirudo slowly peeked his head into the clubroom and took in the personnel already present. Most of the council wasn’t present, as they were most likely making their way to their morning classes. The only people he could spot was the tight-knit trio of Kimiko, Minami and Saki, all of them were relatively acquainted with the shy student. Almost instantly he received the green light to enter the room from the president herself. The boy timidly nodded and gulped back uneasiness as he slowly paced his way towards the basket. With one last glance at the parcels, he dumped them gently and nodded to the council.
”If at all possible, could we discuss club funds before my club meeting? I’d like to have a stable thesis before I begin to map out plans with my members.” The request wasn’t strong in its delivery by the slightest. It was a miracle it even left his mouth and were able to carry out every syllable through the medium of air. Before the president could respond, the bell abruptly rang and notified them that it was time to make way to their classes. Following suit, he filed out of the classroom behind the others, keeping in tow with Yuko. The girl’s classroom was in the middle of their route, and Shirudo bid the girl farewell with haste.
”I’ll see you during lunch, alright? Good luck surviving through the morning.” And with that, he gave the girl a minute bow before continuing onto his own classroom.
The boy sat back down in his seat next to Renya and let out a sigh of relief. Since the teacher was yet to arrive, he was half-tempted to begin paging through a manga magazine to kill the time. By the time he had arrived, his blonde friend had already introduced herself to the rest of the class. Such an act could never be accomplished with Shirudp’s calmness completely retained. He gave the girl a greeting smile and straightened his newsboy cap and tie, looking presentable.
”Oh, right. The Gamers’ Club will be having a meeting today. Would you be interested in shadowing and checking it out?” And now that the invitation was sent, Shirudo could rest assured that he had fulfilled all tasks he had set out to do that morning. Soon enough, the teacher had arrived and began yet another grueling lesson. By this point, the boy had gotten used to the monotone voice which dictated his academic career. It was a recurring cycle with no end, a constant revolution day in and day out. He glanced at the back of his classmates’ heads, deciphering which ones he somewhat knew. Along with being on good terms with a few high schoolers, he also knew a few middle schoolers in Yuko’s age range. In addition, he was surprisingly close to musician who was his nextdoor neighbor. All of them played their own part, strummed their own chords in his life. His very average life, if one would.