● April 7 (Thursday) Yuuta Asamura
Using a tablet in class was nothing new to me, but being “recommended” to buy a personal laptop for creating and submitting reports felt like a polite way of saying it was mandatory. So, I caved and bought one in March. I’d used a desktop at home before, but a laptop was a first, and it felt surprisingly fresh. The keys were light under my fingers, the screen compact yet crisp and its lightweight portability was a definite plus.
April 7th marked the start of my university life. They’d told us to bring our laptops from day one, so I hauled mine along. What caught me off guard in the classroom was the seating situation. Up until now, I’d only been in university classrooms for exams, where seats were assigned. It hadn’t occurred to me that here, you could just pick any open spot, like at a prep school. Naturally, the prime seats up front—close to the podium, where the lecturer’s voice would carry clearly—were already taken. Damn, had I arrived too late? A flicker of panic hit me.
With no better option, I settled into a seat near the middle, chosen only because it was free. To my left sat a guy with dyed blonde hair streaked with black. “Is this seat taken?” I asked, and he shot back, “Yo, it’s free,” his words tinged with a Kansai dialect—Osaka-ben, maybe, though it felt slightly off. Having just visited Osaka for my graduation trip, the accent sparked a pang of nostalgia.
“What’s up?” he asked, noticing my glance.
“Oh, nothing. You from Kansai?”
As I sat and pulled my laptop from my bag, we slipped into easy conversation.
“Yeah, you curious?” he said with a grin. “I’m tryin’ to tone down the accent to fit in here, but it’s comin’ out all weird instead.”
So that’s why his Kansai dialect sounded a bit muddled.
“It’s not weird,” I said. “I was just in Osaka recently, so it feels kinda nostalgic.”
At that, his face lit up, his grin softening the intimidating edge of his tall, well-built frame. Up close, his boyish smile made him seem younger than me. “Oh, nice, nice! The food there was good, right?”
“Yeah, it was delicious.”
“Tokyo’s gotta step it up,” he said, leaning back. “The food here’s no good. Not tasty at all!”
“Is it that bad?”
“I’ve been here ‘bout a week, and every day I’m just yellin’, ‘Man, I ate somethin’ bad again!’”
“No way, c’mon.”
“Back home, I could go for three servings, no problem. Here? Two’s my limit. Seriously, they gotta try harder—”
His words were cut off by a voice from my right. “Is this seat taken?”
I turned to see a guy who was his polar opposite—slender, with sleepy eyes and an almost ghostly pallor. His longish black hair was tied half-up with a thin string, giving him a dazed, detached air.
“It was open, so I think it’s fine,” I said.
“Got it… Thanks,” he mumbled, barely audible, and sat down without a sound. Almost instantly, he pulled out his smartphone and started tapping away.
I blinked. “What?”
“Oh, uh, I mean… class is about to start.”
“The lecturer’s not here yet,” he said, eyes glued to his screen. “Don’t want to waste time. Gotta clear my dailies.”
“Dailies…?”
“Yeah. Three enemies left to clear…”
A glance at his phone revealed a game, vibrant colors flashing across the screen. He was talking about daily quests—those repetitive tasks games throw at you to keep you hooked. I don’t play much, but I’d messed around with some PC games with Maru before, so I got the gist.
“Man, you’re kinda gloomy, huh?” the blonde guy suddenly piped up, leaning past me toward the other guy.
“Is that something you say to someone you just met?” the pale guy shot back, his tone sharp but quiet. “That’s rude.”
“What’d you say?”
“What’s that?”
Hold on, hold on. Why were the guys on either side of me suddenly bickering, with me caught in the middle? I glanced between them, scrambling for a way to defuse the tension, when the classroom door swung open. A man who looked like the lecturer strode in, his presence silencing the brewing argument.
As expected, with course selections still pending, there was no way a lecture would kick off immediately. The man who entered turned out to be here for the course registration process. He passed out papers detailing the steps and gave a quick rundown. I was struck by how we’d be registering online using our laptops—no tedious handwritten forms. So, right from the start, our laptops were already in action. At university, credits are the key to graduation, and even the two guys bickering on either side of me fell silent, listening intently.
We completed our course registrations on our laptops, fingers tapping swiftly across the keys. Once done, I glanced around the classroom. By some strange twist of fate, the two guys flanking me stood out as the most striking figures in the room.
Later, by an even stranger coincidence, we were all invited to the same freshman welcome party and crossed paths again. What were the odds?
I’d hoped for university encounters reminiscent of those with Maru or Narasaka-san. And while I got my wish, I never could’ve predicted they’d unfold quite like this.
