—And then.

My eyes are riveted.

The view before me leaves me breathless.

I’m standing on the outside corridor of a high-rise condo that’s probably on a hill.

Below lies a generous carpet of greenery, like a large park. The sky is a vivid cerulean blue, without the slightest blemish. On the border between the blue and green, ranks of buildings of all sizes line up neatly, like extra-intricate origami. Each and every one is stamped with minute, exquisite windows like the mesh of a net. Some of the windows reflect blue, others are tinted green, and still others simply glitter in the morning sun. I can see a red tower, tiny with distance, and a silver building whose rounded lines remind me vaguely of a whale, and a shining black building that looks as though it’s been cut from a block of obsidian. I’m sure these buildings and several of the others are famous—even I recognize some of them. Far away, little toy cars flow in neat, orderly lines.

It’s the scenery of the biggest city in Japan, and compared with what I’d imagined, it’s— Actually, come to think of it, I’ve never really tried to visualize what it would be like before, but it’s much, much more beautiful than it looks in the movies and on TV. It hits me hard, right in the chest.

“Tokyo,” I murmur.

This world is far too dazzling. I inhale deeply and squint, as if looking at the sun.

“Hey, where’d you buy this?” “In Nishi-Azabu, on the way home from lessons.” “Guess who’s gonna be opening for their next big concert?” “Yo, wanna skip club today and go catch a movie?” “An agency employee is coming to the mixer tonight.”

Wh-what’s with these conversations? Are these people actually modern Japanese high schoolers? Maybe they’re just reading posts off some celebrity’s Facebook page?

I watch the classroom from where I’m standing, half-hidden behind the door, timing my entrance. I used my smartphone’s GPS to get here, and even then, I got incredibly lost. By the time I found the school, the lunch bell was already chiming away.

Still, this school— Glass windows that take up entire walls, bare concrete, colorful iron doors with round windows… It’s so abnormally fancy, I have to wonder whether it’s a World Expo venue or something. This Taki Tachibana guy, a boy my age, lives in a world like this? I think of his name, which I found in his student handbook, and his smug expression on his ID photo. They annoy me a little.

“Taaaki!”

“—!”

Somebody abruptly throws an arm around my shoulders from behind, and I give a wordless yelp. When I look, a bespectacled CEO-type (only neat and sophisticated) is smiling at me, close enough that our bangs are almost touching. Eeeeeek! ’Scuse me, mister—this is the closest I’ve ever been to a guy in my life!

“Look at you, showing up at noon. Let’s go eat.”

With that, the kid with glasses sets off down the hall, still hugging my shoulders. No, seriously, you’re way too close!