ハルノキ Year 1 · Volume 1 · Scene 1 Romance · SliceofLife · ComingofAge Just Another Monday Harunoki LIGHT NOVEL · READING PREVIEW HARUNOKI EN Scene 1 – An Ordinary Morning Chapter 1 – Just Another Monday My alarm went off at 6:28 a.m. I turned it off before it could ring a second time and stayed in bed for another moment. Pale morning light slipped through the narrow gap between my curtains, falling across my desk. A car passed outside. A little later, somewhere in the neighborhood, a front door clicked shut. I turned my head toward the window. The sky was slowly growing brighter. My first day at Harunoki High School. I had tried to imagine how it would probably go. An introduction, a classroom, a few organizational announcements. Maybe we would have to introduce ourselves. There wasn’t much else I could reasonably predict. So I got up. I opened the curtains, made my bed, and went to the bathroom. The cold water washed away the last traces of sleep. When I returned to my room, my uniform was neatly draped over the back of my chair. A white shirt, a dark red tie, dark gray trousers, and a dark gray blazer. I got dressed and tied my tie. The knot was crooked. I loosened it and tried again. The second time, it came out right. I glanced at myself in the mirror. The uniform made me look unfamiliar, even though nothing about me had actually changed. I straightened my collar and turned toward my desk. My schoolbag stood beside the chair. I had packed it the night before, but I checked its contents once more. Notebooks, pencil case, documents, wallet, keys. The signed forms were in the front pocket. I would pack my lunchbox after breakfast. I zipped the bag shut. Everything was there. I could hear dishes clattering in the kitchen. “Masato? Breakfast will be ready in a minute,” Mom called. “Coming.” When I entered the kitchen, Mom was standing by the stove. Dad sat at the table, reading the news on his tablet. Miyu was sitting opposite him. In front of her was a bowl with a small piece of its rim missing. She noticed me looking. “Don’t say anything.” I pulled out a chair. “I haven’t said anything.” “You don’t have to. I know that look.” I glanced at the bowl again. “Then you already know what I was going to ask.” “It slipped out of my hand.” “And the rim?” “It got in the way.” I looked at her. Miyu held my gaze as if she had just offered a perfectly reasonable explanation. “I tried to catch it,” she added. “Didn’t work.” “I’ve figured that out by now.” “Good. Then we’re on the same page.” She shook her head, though she couldn’t quite suppress a grin. “You’re really not being helpful this morning.” “You didn’t ask for help.” “Maybe I should just stop telling people things altogether.” “That would probably make your daily life considerably more difficult.” Miyu opened her mouth, paused, and then burst out laughing. “You’re impossible.” “I hear that a lot.” “I’m not surprised.” “If you’re both finished arguing,” Mom said as she set breakfast on the table, “you can start eating.” “We were finished,” Miyu claimed. Mom glanced at the broken bowl. “Of course you were.” Dad hid a smile behind his coffee cup. We sat down. Breakfast consisted of rice, miso soup, and a Japanese-style omelet. Steam rose from our bowls as the first buses rolled down the street outside. For a while, we concentrated on our food. Then Dad set his tablet aside. “Do you have all your documents?” “Yes.” “The signed forms, too?” “In the front pocket.” He nodded in satisfaction. “Good.” Miyu put down her chopsticks. “How many times did you check your bag?” “Three.” She stared at me in disbelief. “You actually checked it three times?” “Yes.” “Why?” “To make sure everything was in there.” “And you still weren’t sure after the second time?” “I was.” “Then why check a third time?” I thought about it for a moment. “Probably out of habit.” Miyu leaned back. “At least you’re honest.” “It saves time.” “For you, maybe.” Dad picked up his cup again. “As long as you don’t have to walk back to the school office three times today, I don’t care how often you check your bag.” “That shouldn’t be necessary.” “I hope not.” Mom placed a lunchbox beside my schoolbag. “For your lunch break. Please make sure you eat some of it.” “I will. Thanks.” “He says that every time,” Miyu remarked. “And most of the time, I do.” “Most of the time,” she repeated. I let it go. Miyu knew my habits well enough to realize that another argument about them wouldn’t change anything. We talked about the day ahead for a while. Miyu had checked her timetable and memorized the rooms where her classes would be held. Since the classes at her school had been reshuffled, she still didn’t know exactly who she would be spending the rest of the school year with. “At least I know a few people,” she said. “But I don’t know if we’ll end up in the same class.” “Then you’ll find out today,” Mom said. “I’m aware of that.” “You still make it sound like an exam.” “It feels a little like one.” Miyu picked up her chopsticks again. She said it casually, but her fingers were moving more restlessly than before. She wasn’t someone who liked admitting when she was nervous. When something was on her mind, she usually tried to make it seem smaller by putting it into words. “You’ll be fine,” I told her. She looked at me. “You sound so sure.” “I know you.” “That’s not exactly a guarantee, but I’ll manage.” She fell silent for a moment. Apparently, she had expected a longer answer. “You could at least pretend you’re trying to cheer me up.” “I’m trying not to promise you something I can’t know for certain.” Miyu studied me briefly. Then her expression softened. “That actually sounds like you.” “I’ll take that as a good thing.” “I didn’t say otherwise.” Mom smiled before returning to her breakfast. Dad set down his cup. “Masato, one more thing.” I looked up. “You don’t have to prove that you have everything under control today. Take some time to get to know the school first. The rest can come later.” My chopsticks paused above my bowl for a moment. “Understood.” Dad nodded and left it at that. He didn’t ask whether I was nervous. Perhaps he knew I wouldn’t have given him a particularly detailed answer anyway. I wasn’t especially worried. At least, not in a way I could put into words. I wanted to know what my new class would be like, how the teachers taught, and whether I’d find my way around quickly. But sitting at home thinking about it wouldn’t give me any answers. So I kept eating. When we finished, Miyu and I cleared the table. She rinsed her cup while I put the bowls in the sink. Then I took the lunchbox from Mom and packed it in my schoolbag. Miyu checked her phone and zipped up her backpack. “Ready?” I asked. “Yep.” She looked at me. “What about you?” I reached for my bag. “I’m already standing here.” “That doesn’t answer my question.” “Then yes.” “See? Was that so hard?” She headed for the front door, and I followed. Mom came out of the kitchen one last time. “Have a good day, both of you. And let us know if anything changes.” “We will,” Miyu said. Dad raised a hand from the table. “Good luck, you two.” “See you later,” I replied. Then I opened the front door. The morning air was cool. The streets were already busier than they had been half an hour earlier. A cyclist passed us, someone was walking a dog on the other side of the street, and a delivery van had stopped outside a small shop. Miyu stepped beside me and adjusted her backpack. “Let’s go.” We walked down the street. Our routes initially took us in the same direction. We passed small front gardens and low walls, houses with open windows, and shops whose shutters were just being raised. Miyu told me about a friend she’d been messaging the night before. She still didn’t know whether they’d been placed in the same class, and she wondered aloud who she would see first. I listened and asked a question every now and then. Not every thought needed an answer, and not every silence had to be filled. We knew each other well enough to understand that. It wasn’t until we reached a larger intersection that Miyu grew quieter. “Are you nervous, by the way?” she asked. I looked ahead. Several people were waiting at the traffic light, including two students wearing the same uniform as me. “A little.” She turned toward me. “Really?” “You asked.” “I know. I just thought you’d be less nervous than I am.” “Maybe I am.” “That doesn’t help me much.” I let my gaze wander over the people waiting at the light. Some were chatting, while others stood with their heads lowered over their phones. No one looked as though they were worrying about whether the others were nervous. “I don’t know how the day will go either,” I said. “I’ll just go and see for myself.” Miyu was quiet for a moment. “That sounds easy when you say it.” “It is easy. Not necessarily comfortable, though.” She gave me a sideways glance. “Since when do you admit things like that?” “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” The light turned green. We crossed the street with the others. After a few steps, Miyu spoke again. I considered how to respond. I could have told her she’d definitely make friends. But I didn’t know what her classmates would be like, and empty promises wouldn’t change that. “You don’t have to get along with everyone on the first day,” I said at last. Miyu looked at me. “I know.” “Good.” “You don’t always have to come up with a solution right away.” I was quiet for a moment. “What should I say instead?” She shrugged. “Maybe just tell me you understand what I mean.” I looked at her. “I understand what you mean.” Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Thanks.” We changed the subject. Miyu told me about a book she’d read during the holidays. I hadn’t heard of it, so she explained the plot and complained that the ending had come too abruptly. “Would you read it?” she asked. “Maybe.” “That means no.” “It means I’ll think about it.” “You’re not going to read it.” “Then you don’t need to ask me anymore.” She laughed. I listened until we reached the intersection where our paths split. Miyu had to turn left to get to her school. I would continue straight ahead to Harunoki High School. We stopped at the edge of the sidewalk as several students walked past us. “Well,” she said, adjusting her backpack. “On our own from here.” “You know the way.” “That’s not what I meant.” Her voice had grown quieter. She looked down the road ahead of her, then back at me. I recognized that expression. Miyu was open enough to embrace new experiences. That didn’t mean an unfamiliar day couldn’t make her uneasy. “You’ll be fine,” I said. She pulled a face. “I was actually going to say that to you.” “Then we’re in agreement.” A small smile appeared on her face. “Try talking to a few people today. You don’t have to become friends with everyone right away.” “That wasn’t my plan.” “And when you get home, tell me how it went.” “If you tell me about your day, too.” “Deal.” She turned left and started walking. After a few steps, she looked back one last time. “Masato?” I turned toward her. “Good luck.” I raised a hand briefly.“Youtoo.” Then she continuedonherway.Ididn’tstop to watch her go. Miyu knew the route, had packed her things, and knewwheresheneededtobe. There wasn’t much more I could do for her right now. We’d see each otheragainthatafternoon.Icontinued on my way. With every block, I passed more students. Somewerechattinganimatedly, while others walked alone, checking their schedules on their phones.Twoboyswerecomparingtimetables outside a shop. A girl showed something on her screen to herfriend,andtheybothlaughed. I didn’t know any of them. That would probably change. Maybe today,maybelater.Ihadnointention of worrying about it just yet. Eventually, the main building of HarunokiHighSchoolcameintoview.It had looked smaller in the pictures included with the enrollmentdocuments.Nowitstoodbeyond the courtyard, where numerous students had already gathered.Somestoodinsmallgroups.Others searched the posted lists for their class assignments or lookedattheirphonesastheytriedtofind their way around. I adjusted the strap of my schoolbag. Threeyearslayaheadofme.Ihadnoidea how they would turn out. I could try to imagine what was waitingforme,butIwouldn’tfindtheanswers until I took the first step. For today, getting there was enough.Iwalkedtowardtheentranceand stepped through the doors of Harunoki High School. © 2026 HARUNOKI. All rights reserved. Official account: @harunoki_official