The Returnee’s Quiet Journey Through High School – A Roshidere Fanfic

Aliya paused mid-bite, her mind processing the name. Youseke Arima? She glanced at Kuze, expecting a similar reaction, but he was too busy chewing to give it much thought.

It wasn’t until a few seconds later that Kuze’s eyes widened in realization. He swallowed quickly, blinking in surprise. “Wait... Arima? As in the Arima that Kaichou was talking about?”

Arima paused for a brief moment, his chopsticks hovering over his meal as he glanced at Kuze. The mention of Kaichou seemed to catch his attention, a flicker of curiosity crossing his otherwise impassive expression.

So Student Council President been talking about me? Arima thought, his mind briefly running through the implications.

“Yeah,” Arima replied flatly, as if confirming something as mundane as the weather. “That’s me.”

He didn’t ask outright, but the subtle narrowing of his eyes hinted that he was interested in understanding the context behind Kaichou’s mention of him.

Aliya blinked, finally connecting the dots. This is him? The so-called genius? She stared at Arima, her curiosity suddenly piqued. But something didn’t quite add up.

She studied him closely—his spiky hair and sharp eyes gave off the impression of a troublemaker, not a prodigy. If anything, his appearance clashed with the image she had formed in her mind. This guy looks more like someone who’d skip class and cause problems than a 'genius'. Clearly, his appearance didn’t match his reputation.

Aliya wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Are you really Youseke Arima?” she asked, her skepticism evident.

“Can you show me your student ID?”

Arima didn’t seem bothered by the request. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and casually pulled out his student ID, flashing it in her direction.

Aliya leaned forward, narrowing her eyes as she inspected the ID. Sure enough, the name and details matched.

It was him.

She sat back, still feeling a sense of disbelief. So it really is him...

Aliya exchanged a glance with Kuze, who was still processing the revelation. This boy, who sat here with such little care for those around him, was the same Arima who had been the topic of Kaichou’s discussions. The same Arima who had disappeared for months.

“You’re the one they call a prodigy, right?” Aliya said, her voice carrying a hint of disbelief. “The one who disappeared without a word?”

Arima looked up briefly, his gaze shifting toward Alya as if weighing how to respond. He let out a soft “Huh,” almost to himself.

Then, with a nonchalant shrug, he replied, “I suppose you could put it that way.”

Aliya frowned, already feeling her patience wear thin. What is with this guy? For someone who had been hyped up as a genius, he had the personality of a brick wall. There was no charm, no humility—just a cold indifference that grated on her nerves.

Kuze, however, seemed amused. “Man, I didn’t think we’d run into you like this. Small world, huh?” He leaned back in his chair, completely unbothered by Arima’s lack of enthusiasm. “So, what’s the deal? Why’d you just disappear?”

Arima glanced at him briefly, his gaze unreadable. “Personal reasons.”

Kuze raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Fair enough. Everyone’s got their own stuff going on.”

Aliya, however, wasn’t satisfied with the vague answer. “Personal reasons? That’s all you’re going to say?” she asked, her voice sharper than intended.

Arima’s eyes met hers, cold and detached. “That’s all there is to it.”

The bluntness of his tone made Aliya’s frustration flare. Does he not care? She had expected someone with his reputation to be more engaging, or at least less... dismissive.

“You don’t seem to care about anything, do you?” she asked, her voice laced with irritation. “Your reputation, the fact that the school’s been trying to track you down for months... none of it matters to you?”

Arima’s expression remained unchanged. “Should it?”

Aliya stared at him, unable to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to their own talent, their own place in the school. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath, turning back to her meal.

Kuze, sensing the tension, chuckled lightly, trying to ease the mood. “Don’t take it personally, Aliya. Some people just like flying under the radar.”

Aliya shot him a look, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Flying under the radar is one thing. Acting like nothing matters is another.”

Arima remained silent, his focus returning to his food as though the conversation held no relevance to him. The more Aliya watched him, the more she realized that this wasn’t just a one-off encounter—this was who Arima was. Cold, detached, and completely indifferent to the world around him.

She couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of disappointment. For someone who was supposed to be a genius, he left an awful first impression. No wonder he disappeared, she thought bitterly. Maybe he’s just naturally difficult.

Kuze, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by Arima’s indifferent attitude. “Well, this has been an interesting lunch, no doubt. Who would’ve thought we’d be sitting here with the so-called prodigy himself?”

Arima glanced up briefly, his calm expression unchanging. His eyes shifted to Kuze for a moment, considering his next words carefully.

“I’d rather my... circumstances remain low-key for now,” he said, his voice steady but with an unmistakable undercurrent of seriousness. “It’s not about being a big deal. But there are things I don’t need everyone talking about.”

Aliya's irritation flared at his vague response, her frustration surfacing. Secrecy? The whole idea grated on her for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.

“And why exactly should we go along with that?” she snapped, her tone sharper than usual. “You’re not that special.”

Arima’s expression didn’t falter—his poker face remained as still as ever, which only confused Aliya and Kuze. His voice, however, carried a sharper edge as he responded.

“Is that why you came to sit here?” he asked bluntly, still unreadable. “Just to pry into something you don’t understand?”

Aliya’s patience finally snapped. She slammed her hand on the table, causing a few heads to turn in their direction. Her temper flared as she glared at Arima, her frustration bubbling over into anger.

“You think we care that much about your attention?” she spat, her voice shaking slightly with the force of her emotions. “You’re acting like you’re the only one in the world who’s tired of this kind of stuff. Maybe you don’t want people to notice you, but guess what? That’s not how things work in this school!”

Kuze raised his eyebrows, clearly taken aback by her sudden outburst. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, sensing that this was something between Aliya and Arima.

Arima’s expression, however, didn’t change. His poker face remained perfectly intact, which only fueled Aliya’s anger further. She expected some kind of reaction—anything—but he gave her nothing. The more he stayed calm, the more her irritation grew.

Deep down, she didn’t understand why she was feeling like this. When they first sat down, she had barely cared about who he was. In fact, part of her had hoped that maybe he was a decent person, someone worth all the talk. But now? Now, all she felt was a growing, irrational anger that she couldn’t explain.

Arima finally looked up, meeting her eyes, still unreadable. For a brief moment, Aliya thought she might have gotten through to him. But then, without missing a beat, he simply returned to his meal as if nothing had happened.

Aliya, overwhelmed with frustration, abruptly stood up and stormed off, her temper flaring. Kuze, taken aback, called after her. “Aliya! Hey, wait—”

At that moment, Arima’s face remained calm and expressionless, but something clicked in his mind. Aliya, huh? he thought, as her name echoed in his mind.

Kuze sighed, watching her disappear into the crowd. Turning back to Arima, he found the boy finishing his meal, completely unfazed by what had just happened.

As Arima set his chopsticks down, he glanced at Kuze. “Let me ask you something.”

Kuze blinked, taken aback by how casual Arima was despite what had just transpired. It was as if the tension, the conflict, had never existed. Arima didn’t seem to care in the slightest about how people saw him—something that resonated with Kuze on a personal level.

“Y-Yeah?” Kuze stammered, unsure of where this was going.

“You’re from the Student Council, aren’t you?” Arima asked, his tone steady, eyes still showing no sign of change.

Kuze blinked in surprise. “Yeah... How’d you figure that out?” He had a hunch about how Arima knew, but he wanted to hear it from him directly.

Arima leaned back a little, his voice remaining calm as he explained.

“My absence isn’t public knowledge. Only those connected to the academy’s administration would know about me being away for so long. Considering how little time I spent here before I left, it’s unlikely that any regular student would notice, let alone recognize me.”

Kuze nodded slowly, impressed by the clarity of Arima’s deduction.

“And then,” Arima continued, “that girl you were with... She’s part of the Student Council too, right?”

Kuze raised an eyebrow at Arima’s words.

“Yeah, Aliya’s on the council too. You figured that out as well?”

Arima’s expression remained impassive.

“Same reasoning. Your presence together wasn’t a coincidence. You both recognized me from my name. And given that only the higher-ups know about my absence, it was clear that she’s also connected to the same source of information. Which, again, points to the Student Council.”

Kuze couldn’t help but be a little stunned by how effortlessly Arima had pieced everything together.

Arima merely shrugged off the compliment, his expression as unreadable as ever. He paused for a moment before speaking again. “Anyhow, I’d like to apologize if my words earlier upset you or your friend. I’ve got a habit of talking less when I’m eating. It makes me come across as... distant.”

“Huh?” Kuze blinked, slightly taken aback by the unexpected apology. “Oh... don’t worry about it.” He chuckled lightly as he realized that Aliya’s sudden departure might have been a misunderstanding after all. The thought of having to explain it to her later amused him. She probably took it the wrong way, he mused.

Arima’s sharp eyes caught Kuze’s chuckle, and his poker face remained unchanged. He seemed almost perplexed by Kuze’s reaction. “That girl—Aliya, was it? Is she going to be okay?”

Kuze couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised. Was that concern? Arima’s face gave away nothing, but the fact that he even asked made Kuze wonder.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about her. Although... that’s actually her nickname.”

“A nickname, you say.” Arima nodded thoughtfully. “I see. I didn’t catch your name either.”

Kuze straightened up slightly, realizing he hadn’t introduced himself properly. “Uh, it’s Kuze. Masachika Kuze.”

Arima gave a curt nod. “Kuze, then.”

“Yeah.” Kuze leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms casually. “And don’t worry about Aliya. She’s got a bit of a temper, but she’s not the type to stay mad for long. She’s just... very passionate about things. She cares a lot about how people treat others, especially when she feels like someone’s being cold or dismissive. That’s probably why she reacted the way she did.”

Arima’s expression didn’t change, but he absorbed Kuze’s words with a slight tilt of his head. “I see... That explains it.”

Kuze nodded, feeling the tension ease a little. “Yeah, she’ll cool off soon enough. I’ll talk to her later and straighten things out. She’s a good person, just... takes things to heart sometimes.”

Arima remained silent for a moment, as if considering Kuze’s words. Then, with his usual composed demeanor, he stood up and collected his tray. “Good to know,” he said quietly. “Thanks for explaining.”

“Well, I should get going now. Nice meeting you, Kuze.” Arima stood up, carefully placing his empty lunch box in his bag.

“Yeah, same here, Arima. Oh, wait—” Kuze suddenly remembered something that had been on his mind since their conversation began.

Arima paused mid-step, turning back toward Kuze, his expression as neutral as ever, though there was a quiet patience in the way he waited for the question.

“Now that you’re back,” Kuze began, “what are you going to say to the principal or the administration about your long absence?”

Arima stood still for a moment, his eyes lowering in thought before meeting Kuze’s again. There wasn’t a hint of arrogance in his demeanor, just a quiet understanding of the situation.

“I don’t think it’ll be much of a problem,” Arima said, his voice modest and calm. “I’m prepared to explain everything to the administration, but it’s... personal. I don’t want to get into it with people I’ve just met.”

Kuze nodded slowly, sensing the sincerity behind Arima’s words. “Yeah, I get that. But won’t it be difficult to justify your absence? The academy is pretty strict about things like this.”

“I’m aware. But I’ll handle it. I’m not expecting any special treatment or anything. It’s my responsibility to explain myself to the administration, and I’ll deal with whatever comes of it.” Arima answered curtly.

Kuze blinked, slightly taken aback by the honesty and humility in Arima’s tone. There was no trace of arrogance, no indication that Arima thought he was above the rules. Instead, he seemed fully aware of the consequences, ready to face them without complaint.

Seeing Kuze’s thoughtful silence, Arima continued. “As for the higher-ups, it’s their decision how they handle it. I’ll explain my situation as best as I can, and whatever happens... well, it happens. Either way, it should be interesting what they decide.”

Kuze found himself nodding again. “That’s... pretty reasonable, actually.”

Arima turned to leave but paused once more, glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks for the conversation, Kuze.”

With that, Arima walked off, his steps calm and measured, his voice trailing off as he disappeared into the crowd. There was no bravado, no sense of entitlement—just a quiet acceptance of whatever awaited him.

Kuze watched him go, left with a feeling of curiosity and admiration. Arima wasn’t just an enigma—he was someone who seemed to carry a lot more weight on his shoulders than he let on, but he handled it all with an understated calm that Kuze found oddly reassuring.

As he gathered his things and headed back to class, Kuze couldn’t shake the thought that Arima’s return was going to shake things up more than anyone realized.

And for some reason, Kuze felt a strange sense of anticipation about what would come next.