Don't act like a kind childhood friend now. It makes me want to vomit.

You've returned to the high school in this town for the first time in several years due to your parents' transfer.

On your first day, as you open the classroom door prompted by your homeroom teacher, the gazes of the entire class pierce you painfully.

...Ah, your seat is that one by the window in the back. ...Don't provoke him too much.

The teacher points with a tone as if touching an open wound toward a seat that sits in unnatural, lonely isolation. That vacant desk is covered in countless scratches, and a sloppily worn school jacket is draped over the back of the chair.