CHAPTER 2 - Trash Bags and Broken Hearts
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The final bell echoed through the school, its sharp chime slicing through the haze of another long day. The lessons were over, another stretch of monotonous hours barely survived. It's not like I'm some misunderstood genius, constantly battling against the mind-numbing routine of high school life. No, this is just high school—an endless loop where everyone's clinging to whatever shreds of sanity they can hold on to, and I'm just here, Ryuji Takahashi, blending in like another face in the crowd.
Another day, another missed opportunity.
I drift through the hallways, lost in my thoughts, my feet moving without much direction. Daydreams are my refuge—small, fleeting hopes that maybe, just maybe, I'll catch the attention of that one girl.
You know the type. The one who floats through the school like she owns it, effortlessly drawing every eye in the room, never even trying.
I won't lie—part of me hopes she'll notice me.
But in a school full of stars, who's going to look at someone like me?
Honestly, what did I even learn today? Absolutely nothing. The hours blurred together in an unremarkable haze, a collection of lessons I barely stayed awake through. The monotony was suffocating, each class feeling like an endless loop of half-hearted notes and irrelevant details. Another day, another failed attempt to reinvent myself as the "cool guy" I was supposed to be.
It's almost impressive how my face works against me, like a built-in "keep your distance" sign. Seriously—if you saw me from across the room, would you think, Oh, I should totally go talk to him? No chance. Instead, you'd probably think, That guy looks like he could kick a puppy just for fun. It's frustrating, because the truth is, I've never hurt a single living creature in my life.
Sure, I'll admit, I can be a bit of a pervert—okay, maybe a lot of a pervert—but that's beside the point. It's just who I am. It's my default setting. But does that really mean I deserve to be misunderstood?
As I said, this is just another dreary chapter in the ongoing saga of The Life of Ryuji Takahashi. The guy who's judged by his appearance before anyone bothers to know him. The guy everyone assumes will steal their lunch money, but who's really just looking for someone to share a bag of chips with. But hey, life's not all bad, right?
They say, When life hands you lemons… you're supposed to make lemonade or something equally motivational. Well, here I am, standing in the middle of my own personal mess, lemonless and utterly clueless, wondering what I'm supposed to do next.
Maybe tomorrow I'll try to dial down my "mysterious bad boy" vibe. Maybe I'll finally be seen as more than just the intimidating guy who always sits alone. Maybe I could even… I don't know… shout, "I LOVE YOU!" at Mikaela and hope for the best?
Yeah, no. That's a terrible idea. A catastrophic one. The kind of plan that would demolish any hope of a social life. Forever.
But here's the thing—hope is stubborn. It refuses to die, no matter how many times reality tries to crush it.
And then, just as I was sinking into the pit of my own self-pity, I saw her.
Mikaela Sato. The queen of my small, insignificant high school world. The girl who could make my heart race with nothing more than a glance.
There she was, standing across the hallway, laughing with her friends. Her laughter floated through the air, light and melodic, like a song only I could hear. Her smile brightened the entire hallway—and maybe even my soul. It was one of those moments you see in romantic comedies, where everything else fades into the background, and all that's left is her, glowing like an untouchable star.
And then—wait, hold up. Can we just take a moment?
Do you see her?
Those… those curves!
My heart didn't just skip a beat—it nearly exploded. And I know, I know—it sounds shallow. But wow. If there was a Mount Olympus of beauty, Mikaela would be sitting at the peak, sipping tea with the gods and looking down on mere mortals like me.
Okay, focus, Ryuji. Focus.
Now is not the time to be that guy. Now is the time to step up. To be a man. A gentleman. I need to show her that I'm not just another lovesick fool staring from the sidelines. I need to stand out. To be noble. To prove that, even in this depressing high school, there's still some honor left in the world.
And then, I saw it.
Mikaela, bent over near the back of the hall, picking up trash. Trash. As if someone like her should ever have to touch something so… unworthy.
This was it. My moment. My golden opportunity. If I could help her now—just maybe—maybe she'd notice me.
Without a second thought, I bolted across the hallway, my feet moving as if they had a mind of their own. I, Ryuji Takahashi, the self-proclaimed "noble hero," was ready to swoop in and save the day, to earn my place as her unlikely savior.
"Let me take care of that," I said, trying to sound smooth and reliable, but knowing full well I probably came off as an idiot with an overinflated sense of heroism.
But the words were out. Floating between us.
It was just a small gesture, but maybe—just maybe—she would see that I wasn't like the others. The ones who watched but never acted.
And then…
It happened.
Our hands… they touched.
Just for a second. A brief, fleeting moment. But for me, it felt like the entire universe exploded in a burst of fireworks. I could feel the heat rush to my face, my heart pounding so wildly I thought it might break free from my chest. It was electric. It was life-changing. It was… probably just our skin brushing against each other in the most awkward, accidental way possible. But who cares?
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Author's Note: Yes, dear readers, this is the moment. The clichéd yet undeniably essential romcom hand touch during a trash bag exchange. Nothing monumental. Nothing life-altering. Yet for Ryuji Takahashi, it's the most important event of his young life. Please, try to understand his suffering.
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She didn't say a word. Not a glance. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. She simply continued with her task, as though nothing had happened, leaving me standing there holding a sad, lonely trash bag and a heart about to burst.
I trudged back to class, each step feeling heavier than the last, like a man who had just lost everything. All my hopes, all my efforts—scattered, like dust in the wind. There was no magical laughter. No spark of romance. Just silence.
Just me. Me, my bruised ego, and a lonely trash bag.
I am Ryuji Takahashi. Class 1-A's undisputed champion of failure. And this? This is me, wandering through the halls, heartbroken, questioning every decision that had led me here.
Alone. With my dreams. Alone with my shortcomings. Alone with my painfully one-sided, tragically unrequited love.
But then…
Just as I turned the corner, ready to fall into the pit of despair…
I heard it.
A voice. Loud. Clear.
"I LOVE YOU!"