7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Induction week is straightforward. There are no classes yet—those start next week, and we have them every morning—and most of what we do is admin stuff like setting up our bank accounts and residency cards, ordering textbooks and meeting the teachers. It's boring, but also a bit overwhelming at times, so it distracts me from thinking back to the embarrassing situation I put myself in at Nagoya Port. I still can't believe the badass dude from the club was there and caught me trying to eavesdrop.

Remi and her two sidekicks take us around the area near the college, showing us the shops and some of the cafes and restaurants. The next ‘sightseeing' trip, as Naomi called it, will be on Saturday, and we'll be checking out Osu and the local festival that's happening over the weekend.

"Right, so any idea which clubs you are checking out?" Naomi poses, munching on her melon bread as we head over to the school fair where the extracurricular clubs each have a stall .

I hum around a bite of my katsu sandwich. "They've got Aikido, so maybe that? Kendo looks fun too… Or baseball. I've always wanted to try baseball."

"I was looking at that, too," Chris jumps in. As usual, he looks impeccable and mysterious with his black make-up, spiky hair and ripped clothes. "I'm a reserve for my college's team."

"You reckon they'll let me join, too?" Naomi says, scrunching her nose.

"I don't think they allow mixed teams," Chis answers with a note of disappointment in his voice.

She sighs. "Guess I'm sticking to dancing and whatever martial arts Leo picks."

The school fair is crowded when we make it over. We pass by the papercraft club, the birdwatching one, anime, hiking and acting until we get to the start of the sports zone. Karate and Iaido are first, then Kung-fu, Kendo and Aikido. I have a hard time deciding which one to try, so I go for both. Fortunately, the training sessions are on different days, so in theory I could do both anyway. Naomi picks Aikido, though Chris isn't particularly interested in martial arts and so ends up sticking just to baseball.

On the next day, we meet the last of the teachers. I'm in the same group as Naomi for all the language subjects, but Chris ended up in a different one. He seems to have friendlier teachers though, so I guess that's a fair tradeoff.

"Are you ready for the welcome party?" the exchange program coordinator, Mr. Terrance, says when we gather in front of the foreign students' office. It's situated on the last floor in Building 5 where the cafeteria serving western cuisine is. Our classrooms are also here. "Everyone who hasn't already, is excited to meet you. It's open to the entire university, so you'll get to meet some new faces! "

He's Australian, I think. He wears square glasses that are a size too big for him. They also match his light-colored suit. His copper hair is always neatly gelled to one side. He speaks in Japanese to the staff sometimes, which, honestly, is pretty cool.

We follow Mr. Terrance to the first floor. The cafeteria tables are organized in three rows with buffet-style food. Garlands in the green and blue colors of the IS college hang from walls and plants, and a small makeshift stage has been erected next to the abstract art bronze statue.

" Minna-san ! Welcome!" a girl with yellow ribbons and a cute purple dress hops on it and shouts, making a heart with her fingers and tilting her head to the side. "I am the student council vice president, Hikari! Nice to meet you!"

A few others join her and welcome us too, telling us about how excited everyone is to meet this year's exchange students. We move onto eating after that. I attack the sushi first, but the fried chicken and tempura are probably my favorite, along with the bite-sized cakey desserts. I've been to a couple of college-hosted events back home, but none of them has ever been quite like this. Then again, I don't think we care as much as the staff here to leave a good expression or make sure everyone is having a good time. It's more transactional back home.

I survey the room once I'm done stuffing my face and exchanging introductions with Japanese students. The crowd has thinned a little, but the cafeteria is still packed. A guy with shoulder-length hair in a shirt with a familiar dark blue hue catches my gaze, smiling and nodding his head in that respectful way people here do.

My heart jumps. A wave of hot tingles slides down my body, elevating my breathing. It's not him . I know that. But the color of this dude's shirt is so similar to the one of the suit my badass Club Guy was wearing at the Port restaurant that my brain is having problems convincing itself this is just a coincidence.

The more I try to convince myself I'm overthinking it, the more it makes me revisit that day. I picture the observation room, the couch, the four men. The way Club Dude smiled asymmetrically. Me sneaking up to the conference room and hiding behind that stupid plant. His gaze clashing with mine and the ever-so-slight arch of his thick eyebrows. The subtle quiver of his full lips. And those dark eyes zeroing in on me with such unrestrained intensity…

Heat spurs to the back of my neck. My temperature suddenly feels higher, especially my face. I've tried not to think about him, and mostly succeeded due to my busy schedule, but I can't help but do it sometimes. It's unintentional and it just happens, making me go in circles as questions flood my mind.

Who is he? Is he going to come looking for me because he saw me trying to spy on him? But that was almost a week ago… So why hasn't he come yet?

I bite on my lip. Do I want him to? Why? After I made an idiot of myself, it's better we never run into each other again. Besides, he looked like he might be someone important… or at the very least, he works for someone important. Or he could be part of the mafia? That's possible too, which means that my curiosity and fascination with him ends here and now. I don't want a repeat of NY, so I want absolutely nothing to do with suspicious individuals or organizations. Case closed.

I wave at the guy with the dark blue shirt, aiming a friendly smile his way. He returns it and walks over, introducing himself .

"Hi, my name is Nobu."

"I'm Leo. Nice to meet you. What do you study?"

"Nice to meet you, too! I'm doing an English and Business degree and just came back from…"

I nod, trying and failing to listen to what Nobu is saying. Okay, I know I decided I'm over Club Guy, but who is he? And even if there is zero reason for us to meet again, I'm pretty sure I saved his life that night. So the least he could do is have some manners and thank me, right?

Nodding to myself, I decide that's what is making me so hung up on him. He didn't thank me when he should have.

"Leo, having fun?" Naomi appears from somewhere, draping an arm over my shoulder. "Don't pig out too much. I think the guys want to go to an izakaya."

I blanch at her, scanning the room for Nobu. Shit . Where did he go? I got so caught up in my head, I've no idea when he left or what we were even talking about. Oh well. There are plenty more friends to make around here.

"An izakaya ?" I toss at Naomi, shooing a curl of her dark hair that's tickling my cheek.

"Yep. It's like a pub. We go there, drink our asses off, have some dinner, then carry on at some bar," she elaborates, flashing me a teasing smile. "I hope this time we stay for the fun part."

Oh right, it's Friday today, which means party night. Tomorrow marks a full week since my encounter with the mysterious guy at the club. A thrill passes through me, making me shiver. Here I go again, thinking about him. I swear I've never been so hung up on someone, especially another dude like me.

"So, you coming or nah? "

"Sure," I say kind of flatly. What are the chances of running into him there?

One in a million, I bet. There are probably hundreds of izakayas and he seemed like the type who'd go for the extra fancy extra expensive extra special type .

"Oh boy, I love the enthusiasm." Freya, the French girl with the waist-long blue hair and the pointy nails swats me on the arm. She's in the same language group as Naomi and I, so we kind of got friendly.

Naomi waves the comment off. "That's called being a bit socially awkward, Frey. Don't mind him. He's a real party animal when he gets tipsy."

For the record, she's not wrong about that, even if she's never seen me tipsy. But she's completely off the mark about my social awkwardness. I'm nothing if not the center of attention wherever I go, making people fawn over me left and right. It's just that I'm a little off my game lately because my brain is too busy obsessing over a stranger I'm definitely not seeing again.