The afternoon sun had begun to mellow, casting a gentle warmth across the windows as Katsuragi Kokoro stepped out of the classroom, bag slung over his shoulder. The air was still and drowsy, but filled with the low chatter of students bustling about—some heading to clubrooms, others straight to the gate.
He glanced out one of the wide hallway windows and noticed a few students already making their way out of the school grounds, laughing, yawning, talking about snacks or afterschool plans.
"Ah... right," Kokoro muttered to himself, watching a pair of girls hop down the steps in sync. "Joining a club isn't mandatory."
"Yo! Gather up, boys!" Kenta announced like he was assembling a squad in a shonen anime.
Minoru blinked. "We just finished cleaning, and you already want me to move again...?"
Kokoro nodded. "You all joining the Loutuber Club like you planned?"
That's when the twist hit.
"Nah," Genji said, looking far too proud of himself. "We joined the Acting Club instead."
Kokoro blinked. "Wait, what? You guys were all hyped about becoming school content creators and chasing views?"
Minoru raised a finger slowly, as if it weighed 40 pounds. "We realized if we're gonna be in front of a camera... we need to actually know how to speak to people."
Kenta laughed. "Yeah, turns out mumbling our way through class announcements doesn't exactly scream 'charisma' on Loutuber."
Genji gave a dramatic twirl like a stage actor. "So we decided to improve our stage presence. Plus, the drama club lets us pretend to be people who have their life together."
Kokoro chuckled, amused and slightly impressed. "You guys are... surprisingly reflective."
"Hey, don't be so shocked," Kenta said, poking him in the side. "We've got depth. Real onion-layers type of depth."
The four of them walked past scattered groups of students chatting by lockers, some girls still in uniform stretching by the gym doors, and a guy in a hoodie speedrunning a vending machine snack combo like it was his life's mission.
As they ascended the final staircase to the fourth floor, the mood shifted ever so slightly.
The sounds from below—laughter, echoing footsteps, the metallic clunk of locker doors—faded gradually, replaced by something different.
They were nearing a new level of the school.
And the fourth floor... the floor of clubs.
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As Kokoro and the trio stepped onto the fourth floor, it was as if they'd been transported into an entirely different realm.
The atmosphere shifted dramatically. Gone were the usual dull white corridors and the idle buzz of students trudging to their lockers. In their place was an explosion of color, sound, and motion. The fourth floor pulsed with vibrant life—a paradise of passion and chaos, a testament to the creativity of Sakura High's student body.
Banners hung from ceilings and colorful streamers fluttered gently under the ventilation. Each classroom door was wide open, revealing snippets of club life. Some rooms were decorated with vibrant posters and dioramas; others had cutouts of anime characters, intricate hand-crafted models, or shelves of neatly labeled science equipment.
On the left, the Art Club displayed canvases of surreal landscapes and abstract faces that seemed to watch them pass. Students inside were still painting, their smocks splattered with color, laughter spilling out into the hallway. A little farther down, the Dance Club's classroom had music blasting through a speaker—an upbeat pop track playing as students practiced synchronized steps, their windows fogged by the energy and movement inside.
Laughter and conversation filled the air, a mix of youthful voices from every year—first, second, and third—blending into a cheerful symphony of student life. Some third-years were supervising booths with clipboards in hand, their expressions both proud and tired. First-years like Kokoro stood around in awe, eyes wide at the sheer spectacle.
Kenta, Genji, and Minoru all stopped in their tracks.
"Yo... this place is crazy," Genji said, mouth slightly open.
Minoru blinked slowly, his sleepiness momentarily erased. "Did we walk into a cultural festival or something?"
"Nope," Kenta grinned, eyes sparkling. "This is the daily club floor. Welcome to paradise."
They took it in for a while longer, each silently appreciating the contrast to the normal monotony of classrooms and lectures. It truly did feel like a world apart—a world where students could be whoever they wanted, create whatever they dreamed, and pour their youth into things that mattered to them.
Eventually, they came to a fork in the hallway.
"Guess this is where we split," Kenta said, slapping Kokoro on the back.
"See you after club activities," Minoru added with a rare flicker of enthusiasm.
"Try not to fall in love with a club senpai," Genji teased, finger-gunning Kokoro as he turned toward the Acting Club.
Kokoro smirked, waving them off. "No promises."
Now alone, Kokoro took a deep breath and resumed walking. His eyes flicked to each open room—a Robotics Club displaying miniature automated vehicles, a Literature Club debating classic novels with dramatic flair, and even what looked like a Secret Society of Teacup Enthusiasts. Every step down the corridor added to his growing sense of wonder.
Then, a delicious scent caught his attention.
He stopped in front of a wide glass window that peeked into a Home Economics Club room. Through it, he could see an array of students—mostly girls, with a few brave boys—huddled around a workstation.
A third-year senior, tall and composed with neatly tied-back hair and a warm apron embroidered with the word "Chef," was instructing the group with confident gestures.
"Make sure the batter is fluffy," the senior said, pointing to a bowl as a student carefully stirred it. "If you overmix it, the sponge won't rise properly."
They were baking something that looked like mini strawberry shortcakes—little puffs of golden sponge layered with cream and topped with fresh strawberries. The fragrance of butter and sugar melted together filled the hallway, making Kokoro's stomach growl involuntarily.
One of the girls inside, noticing Kokoro peering in through the window, gave him a wave with a flour-dusted hand. Embarrassed, he quickly bowed slightly and walked on, his face warm.
So this is what the fourth floor is like, Kokoro thought, eyes full of curiosity. It's like stepping into an entirely different world...
He smiled to himself, not knowing just how much this strange new world was going to change him.
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The hallway of the fourth floor was like a whimsical realm of its own. Laughter danced freely in the air, mixing with the aroma of fresh glue, paint, and occasionally... curry? Each classroom had morphed into a mini kingdom of culture—walls decked with handmade banners, open doors revealing snippets of unique worlds: a kendo club clashing bamboo swords in rhythm, a music room humming with harmonies, and somewhere near the end of the corridor, a muffled pop song blaring out of what looked like a dance studio.
Kokoro walked with a casual pace, eyes drinking in the surreal vibrance of it all. It really did feel like another world. The ground itself almost felt different—lighter, buzzing with energy.
Then—he noticed her.
A girl, not very tall, with jet-black hair tied in a messy ponytail and matching deep-black eyes. She was struggling with two stacked cardboard boxes so big they looked like they were smuggling furniture. One of them wobbled slightly each time she shifted her foot.
Kokoro tilted his head, curious. The funny thing was... if he had been born a girl, he had a sneaking suspicion this would be what he looked like. The resemblance was almost uncanny, which weirdly made it harder not to stare.
The girl took a shaky step forward.
"Need help with that?" Kokoro said casually, already reaching out to steady the box before it tipped.
"Eh?!"
She nearly dropped the entire stack in surprise. Peeking around the corner of the top box, her eyes widened at the sight of Kokoro's face.
"Ah—uh—yes, thank you!" she stammered.
Kokoro smiled faintly and took the top box from her arms. It was heavier than it looked. "Where are we headed?"
"U-um... the Cosplay Club room," she replied, cheeks reddening slightly. "It's just down the hall... please follow me."
They walked side by side in silence. Kokoro wasn't particularly awkward, but the atmosphere felt a little unusual. Maybe it was because the girl kept glancing at him like he'd just walked out of a shoujo manga. Or maybe because now he was acutely aware of how funny it was to be helping a stranger in this kind of setup.
Is this what they call a trope? Kokoro mused internally. Next thing you know, cherry blossoms are gonna start falling indoors.
As they walked, Kokoro took in more of the 4th floor. Here, it really felt like the soul of the school lived. A group of art students laughed while painting a giant dragon mural on a rolling board. Some third years were arguing playfully over which ingredients to use in their club's special parfait for the school festival. Down the hall, a couple of underclassmen wearing fox ears posed dramatically in front of a camera.
It was warm, it was loud—but it was strangely comforting.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a door labeled Cosplay Club—handwritten in glittery lettering, complete with stickers of stars, moons, and… a surprisingly lifelike sticker of a mecha.
Kokoro blinked.
Of course. He had seen videos online—cosplayers dancing in public places, posing with elaborate props, drawing hordes of likes and shares. And now here he was, standing in front of a door that led into that world.
The girl turned back toward him, a faint blush still on her cheeks.
"T-thank you again. Really," she said, bowing slightly.
Kokoro scratched the back of his head, offering a sheepish smile. "No problem."
She opened the door.
And with that, the cosplay world invited him in.