Chapter XLIII: Just Another Schoolday, Part 2
Another school day unfolds under a familiar sky, the kind that feels ordinary at first glance but quietly carries the promise of something memorable.
The classroom hums with low chatter, chairs scraping lightly against the floor, bags half-open, notebooks still untouched. It is a vacant period again—an unclaimed stretch of time that the Special Power and Defense Class instinctively fills with conversation, laughter, and the comfortable chaos of youth.
Ryujin leans back against his chair, one foot hooked around its metal leg. His phone rests loosely in his hand, screen glowing faintly. Across from him, Haruto sits sideways, elbows on the desk, chin propped on his palms. Hageshi and Inoshiro occupy the desks beside them, already mid-conversation, voices overlapping in excitement.
"I'm telling you, dude," Haruto says, grinning, "that sound effect never gets old. No matter how many times you hear it. It's like eating a bottomless Udon,"
Ryujin snorts. "Heh, that's because it's scientifically designed to ruin your composure."
Hageshi taps his fingers dramatically on the desk. "Man, memes are modern art. People just don't want to admit it. I just don't know how it will turn out in the future."
Inoshiro laughs. "Modern art that makes you wheeze at two in the morning."
Ryujin flicks his thumb across his phone and turns the screen toward them. "Okay, okay, listen to this."
A familiar meme sound bursts out—overly loud, completely unnecessary, and perfectly timed.
"And his name is JOHN CENA! *Airhorn*"
Haruto bursts out laughing immediately, nearly slipping off his chair. Hageshi groans but still smiles, covering his mouth. Inoshiro lets out a sharp laugh before trying—and failing—to regain his composure.
"Why," Haruto manages between laughs, "why is that still funny?"
"Because your brain is broken," Ryujin replies smugly.
They dissolve into laughter again, drawing a few glances from other students scattered around the room. No one really minds. Vacant periods exist for moments like this.
The conversation continues effortlessly, hopping from meme to meme, from cursed images to viral clips. Time stretches, unbothered.
Eventually, as always, the topic drifts.
"Hey, dudes," Hageshi says, leaning forward. "Speaking of memes... did you check the sub count again?"
Ryujin doesn't need to ask who he means. He already knows.
"Alright, I'mma check"
He opens his browser and types quickly, the familiar rivalry loading onto the screen. PewDiePie versus T-Series—numbers ticking upward, tension eternal.
"Well?" Inoshiro asks.
Ryujin squints. "He's still ahead."
Haruto pumps his fist lightly. "Yes! Please don't lose Pewds!"
Hageshi grins. "Brofist forever."
Ryujin raises his hand instinctively. "I agree my friend, Brofist Forever."
Their fists meet in the air, the gesture small but meaningful.
"Brofist Squad," Inoshiro declares solemnly.
"Not official yet," Ryujin says, amused. "But I like the direction."
They continue talking, energy high, when two voices from the nearby desks suddenly cut in.
"Did I just heard someone said PewDiePie?"
Okaki leans over from the next row, eyes bright with curiosity. Miran follows close behind, chair scraping softly as he turns.
Ryujin looks over. "You heard that, huh?"
Miran grins. "Hard not to. You guys are loud."
Hageshi scoots his chair slightly. "Well, you guys were just sleeping over there. Then join in."
That's all the invitation they need.
Okaki pulls his chair closer. "So what are you talking about? The sub war? Old Pewds? New Pewds?"
"All of it," Haruto says proudly.
Miran nods. "Honestly, YouTube feels different now."
"That's because it is," Inoshiro replies. "Everyone's famous now. Or trying to be."
They begin listing names—channels that dominate the platform, creators who started with shaky webcams and now fill arenas, voices that shape trends and inside jokes worldwide.
"Markiplier's consistency is insane," Ryujin says. "Dude uploads like it's breathing."
"Jacksepticeye's energy is illegal," Haruto adds. "How is he always that loud? Top of the mornin' to ya laddies!"
"MrBeast," Inoshiro says, "is literally redefining content."
Hageshi nods thoughtfully. "And Pewds is just... Pewds. He evolves, but stays himself."
Okaki chuckles. "Kwebbelkop went from gaming to full-on production."
Miran crosses his arms. "Ninja made gaming mainstream."
The names roll easily off their tongues, spoken with admiration, familiarity, and the quiet dream that maybe—just maybe—they could do something like that too.
"You know," Ryujin says slowly, eyes lighting up, "we should make a group chat."
Haruto raises an eyebrow. "We already have, like, three."
"Yeah," Ryujin replies, "but this one's different."
Hageshi leans in. "Explain."
"A YouTuber-themed group chat," Ryujin says. "Nicknames and all."
Silence falls for a beat.
Then Miran grins. "I'm listening."
They throw ideas back and forth quickly, excitement building.
"Okay," Ryujin says, counting on his fingers. "I call Markiplier."
"Obviously," Haruto says. "Then I'm Jacksepticeye."
Hageshi smirks. "Guess that makes me PewDiePie."
Inoshiro nods. "MrBeast fits me."
Okaki taps the desk. "Kwebbelkop."
Miran chuckles. "Then I'll be Ninja."
They stare at each other for a moment.
Then Haruto breaks the silence. "This is ridiculous."
Ryujin grins. "Ridiculously perfect."
Hageshi raises his fist. "Brofist Squad."
They all join in, fists colliding in the center, laughter spilling freely around them.
On the other side of the room, the atmosphere is quieter but no less animated.
Saki sits with Kitsune and Rikiyo, hands wrapped around her drink as she speaks with enthusiasm. "I swear, the animation in those films just hits different."
Kitsune nods eagerly. "Studio Ghibli doesn't rush emotions. They let scenes breathe."
Rikiyo leans back slightly. "And the music. It stays with you."
They drift from one title to another, voices soft but passionate, the conversation filled with wonder and nostalgia. While memes dominate one corner of the room, imagination and artistry bloom in another. Two worlds, coexisting perfectly.
The classroom door slides open. Hajime-sensei steps inside. The noise doesn't stop immediately, but it lowers instinctively, like a tide receding.
Hajime-sensei clears his throat. "Relax," he says calmly. "I'm only here for an announcement."
Curiosity ripples through the room. Chairs straighten. Phones lower.
"This concerns all of you," he continues. "The Special Power and Defense Class."
A hush settles.
"You will be going to Kyoto," Hajime-sensei says.
For half a second, the words don't register. Then—
"What?"
"No way."
"Kyoto?!"
The room erupts.
Hajime-sensei raises a hand, smiling faintly. "Exclusive to your class."
Gasps and whispers explode anew.
"Waivers will be distributed during the PTA meeting this Saturday," he adds. "Eight in the morning. Skat Auditorium."
He lets the excitement settle before continuing. "Prepare accordingly."
With that, he turns and leaves. The door closes. The room explodes.
"KYOTO?!"
"THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"
"We're actually going!"
The Brofist Squad loses all composure, voices overlapping in disbelief and excitement.
"This is insane," Miran says.
"We're actually going," Ryujin breathes, a smile spreading across his face.
Classes resume eventually—music, language, English, nature, technology—but the energy never fully dies down.
By the time Pyuriro begins his lecture, the class listens intently, especially when he mentions outreach programs, donations, helping those affected by calamities. The excitement transforms into something deeper. Purpose. As the day ends, one thing is clear— This isn't just another ordinary school day. It's the beginning of something bigger.
33Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh7tn5ihMv4
and then Add to home screen.