After finally unpacking, I found myself on my bed. It was much more comfortable compared to my old dorm.

  It wasn’t that much to unpack, so when I was done, I found that it was still 6:23pm. Not too late at all.

  My mind was focused on something.

  Just why in the world did that girl call me disgusting? I know my gaze lingered a little too long, but could I be blamed?

  Usually I forget how people look since I avoid eye contact, yet she burned herself into my memory.

  I frowned a bit. A girl that pretty just called me disgusting…

  Trying to improve my mood, I considered my electives for the semester. I would probably end up taking the same ones as I did before I transferred, though I guess it depends if they have any space left.

  At the moment I took random classes since I didn’t have any majors in mind. I wasn’t quite set in stone yet on my future.

  It’s not that I don’t know what I want to do, I just didn’t really know if it mattered.

  I don’t mean to be some edgelord but I just don’t believe much matters when my wish is to cease existing.

  No, I don’t mean that in the suicidal sense. I mean, I just want to go poof!

  The best comparison would probably be something like before you’re born. I’m not sure what created this belief in me, or wish if that’s what you want to call it.

  One day I just thought of it, and it’s stuck with me ever since. Don’t get me wrong, I really don’t want to die. I’m just uncertain is all.

  Realizing my thoughts were growing depressing, I picked myself up and walked over to my backpack that was leaning against the desk provided by the dorms.

  There was one thing I did. That was writing.

  Is it that surprising?

  An avid reader that also wrote?

  I didn’t plan to make my life about writing but it was a hobby of mine. Though, I guess I don’t really write stories. Usually I plan concepts and then stash them, or throw away my attempted chapters.

  Pulling out my notebook, I placed it on the desk and sat down. I flipped through the pages until I reached a blank page.

  Hmm, what kind of character do I want to write?

  As I pondered the idea, I slowly began to jot down random thoughts that came to mind.

  Black hair.

  Average height.

  Probably brown eyes.

  Struggles with socializing.

  In a strange situation.

  Living in the girls' dorms.

  To be honest, it probably looked like I was projecting and maybe I was. Thinking back on most of my characters, I usually base them on how I was feeling at the time.

  I checked the time on my phone and realized it was 7:20pm. It also made me realize how thirsty I was.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Glancing around the room, I found it to be completely lacking in any form of liquid.

  “Well crap. Looks like I have to find a vending machine,” I muttered to myself.

  I was hoping for apple juice. It wasn’t for a particular reason, I just didn’t have it for quite some time. Not that I kept track or anything. It just feels like it’s been a while.

  Exiting the room, I quickly made my way down to the first floor. I didn’t feel like exploring this huge building so I decided to go ask Fumiko.

  This would also kill two birds with one stone since I also wanted to know if there was an elevator.

  Once I reached the bottom, I made my way straight to the front desk where I found Fumiko talking to someone familiar.

  It was that girl.

  The one that called me disgusting.

  I wasn’t sure why she was down here, but before I could even hear a word of their conversation Fumiko had noticed me and waved at me.

  “Haru! Is something the matter?” She called out to me.

  The girl turned to look at me, her gray eyes glared at me which sent a shiver down my spine.

  Has she killed people? What is up with that stare…

  I found her to be quite scary. Are all pretty girls like this?

  She walked off, somehow with an elegant air around her even though she was clearly frustrated.

  Letting out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t called me disgusting again, I walked towards the desk and finally replied to Fumiko’s question.

  “Uhm… I was just curious, is there a vending machine somewhere in the building?”

  “Actually yeah, there's one on each floor so you didn’t really have to come down here.”

  “...Oh. Well, I did have another question. Is there an elevator to go up the floors?”

  Before she replied she broke into laughter, “Hahaha, don’t tell me you went up the stairs with your suitcase?”

  I frowned at her response. I wasn’t particularly mad, just felt a bit dumb when being teased like that.

  “Oh, don’t be upset. There is an elevator and it’s actually in the direction you walked in. You probably missed it since you kept your head down all the way.”

  “Is that so? Quite observational of you.”

  “Well, I care about the students here. I’ve worked here far too long and have seen all kinds of dumb things happen. Someone has to keep an eye out.”

  Wow… I didn’t expect her to be so… Kind.

  Usually people that work with students just care about money, or work the job because nothing was available to them. It felt almost nice to meet such a refreshing person.

  “Thank you for telling me, again.”

  “Anytime, it’s my job.”

  She flashed me a smile, and for the first time I finally looked her in the eyes.

  Her green eyes had the vigor of someone young. In fact, if I had to guess her actual age I would assume she was much younger than I originally thought.

  Her voice gives it away though.

  With the new information, I waved again and located the elevator.

  ***

  After reaching the third floor and also getting myself apple juice from the vending machine, I could finally return to my room.

  Today was eventful. I met a nice middle aged woman, and also got insulted. Probably the more surprising of the two is ending up in this situation, but I can’t whine about it for the rest of my student life here.

  Reaching for the door handle to my room, I realized that I forgot to lock it. I should be a bit more careful, who knows when someone could—

  Just as I swung open the door, I found someone sitting at my desk. My heart began to pound in my chest.

  Someone broke into my room? On my first day here!?

  With a panic I was about to run back down to ask Fumiko to call for security, but then I recognized the person at my desk.

  Why was she in my room?

  Sitting at my desk was the slender beauty that called me disgusting.

  Her silky, black hair cascaded down her shoulders.

  She was dressed in casual clothes, nothing special. Yet, it looked like she was modeling.

  Then, she finally realized I was standing there, her gray eyes landing on mine.

  I was at a loss for words.

  Before I could even ask her about breaking into my room, she parted her smooth pink lips and said, “Do you write stories?”