The bell sounds once more, as anyone on the school network gets a message requesting they head to the hall for the first assembly of the year. As you walk in through the front of the hall, you notice the red-haired girl and her black-haired companion from earlier. Neither girl seems to be looking at you as you walk in; whatever caught their eyes earlier about you, doesn’t seem to be holding their attention right now.
As soon as everyone is filed in, Mr. Akiyama- a man in his early 50s, but resembling a younger man in his late 30s, with sleek black hair, a cleanshaven face and thin, black-rimmed spectacles dressed in a modern black business suit- signals for quiet in the hall, waiting patiently for his students to be quiet. Shortly after, he begins his speech; mainly, the usual greetings for all the new students, along with the usual message to act as mentors, aimed at the seniors in the last year of high school. It’s not a bad speech, by most standards, if a bit bland, Mr. Akiyama not exactly being a renowned orator, but it’s not bad.
However, that’s not the most interesting thing that happened during the assembly.
Halfway through the end of the assembly, while one of the teachers rattles off information about the school clubs to be starting during the week, an email streams across your overlays suddenly. The email address is obscured, leaving you unaware of the original sender. The message is short, dispensing with much of the pleasantries letters often have, and goes as follows:
”Please wait outside the hall after the assembly finishes.”
-Y.K.
Before you have any time to wonder who the initials Y.K. belong to, or indeed why they sent such a message to you, the assembly ends, and people begin standing up to leave, heading to their various classrooms, leaving you to wonder who sent it or indeed, who else might have received it.