AN: me, suddenly realizing that Fumio's name is legit one letter away from 'Fumi': fUCK

either way, I'll be slowly transitioning him from Fumi to Eda from next chapter on! Will say this before he chapter begins, but at this point in time there has only been four years since Jouichirou left (four years since Doujima Gin's generation graduated), so he's still pretty infamous there.

To put things into perspective, Shiomi Jun was a 1st year Middle Schooler(12-13) when she first entered Polar Star, and Jouichirou etc were 3rd year High Schoolers (17-18). Now Shiomi is a 3rd Year High Schooler, and Fumi is a 1st year Middle Schooler.

-

-

-

On his way up to the dorms, he found many people making their depressed way down. From their uniforms, he realized that they were mostly from the High School Division, or seniors from the Middle School Division.

Fumi felt out of place. Why was he the only first year around?

They all held cooking utensils of some kind, and one even held a dejected bowl of noodles, whining softly, "but this can't be..."

(Was this entrance test thing really that hard?)

Looking at his luck for the day, Fumi really could see where this was going.

-

"Hmm, it's been a while since I've had a cake as an entry, but unfortunately, I can't let you pass with just this," the dorm mother, Daimidou Fumio, told him.

Her arms were crossed, her brows furrowed contemplatively.

"It is certainly an excellent cake, but there is nothing in here out of the ordinary. You could get this in any cake shop in town-- and that is not what I'm looking for," she put him down as nicely as she could, "come back when you're older, kid. You've got potential."

Yeah, Fumi really had the absolute worst roll in the dice today. Please, someone give him a break. He's come all this way and all of a sudden, he's got no place to sleep tonight? Ugh.

He peeled off his gloves (that were put on over the wound over his finger in case of bacteria getting in while he cooked) and bowed as respectfully as he could.

"Thank you very much," he said. "If you don't mind, could I--" Could I try again tomorrow? Fumi wanted to say, but he couldn't bring up the will to say it. Would anything be different tomorrow? Or would it all stay the same until Fumi realizes that this is really as far as he can go?

(Fumi isn't her after all. Maybe she had the talent to cook. Fumi... maybe Fumi didn't. Maybe Jouichirou was wrong to have hope for him.)

"You can try again tomorrow, if you want," the dorm mother told him, as if reading his thoughts. She gestured at the group of seniors who were camping in the forest near the doorway, "you can keep trying, but unless you give me something that would wow me, you're getting sent back out the door like everyone else."

All of them? That's a crowd, Ma'am.

There was a whole field trip going on in that outer corner of the forest. They set up lights and tents and everything. Did they come prepared?

"There are more sleeping bags to spare in the shed, so just take one if you need it," she added on.

She's used to this, Fumi bitterly realized.

"Ah, thanks very much," he stuttered out again. Then he remembered, "ah, wait, Daimidou-san!"

"Call me Fumio," she added on on instinct.

Fumi paused, because their names were apparently a letter apart?

Quickly shoving the thought aside, he dug around the pockets of his bag, and produced a blue envelope with a star on the stamp side.

"Here you go, uh, Fumio-san," he handed the slightly crumpled letter to her, "it's a, uh, letter for you... from Jou-- Sai-- huh? What was his full name again? Uh! It's from someone I know, he's like a uh, brother to me?"

"Wow kid, you're a mess," Dorm Mother Fumio mused at the stuttering mess of a child in front of her, "so something like your guardian? What would they want with little old me?"

And she ripped the seal off, retrieving the letter-- and stopped, shocked.

Fumi blinked, confused. What was in the letter anyways? He couldn't help but lean over curiously--

Hey Fumio-san! Please take care of this kid for me.

-J

Two sentences, one piece of paper. What kind of a letter is that?

"This absolute moron!" Dorm Mother Fumio threw the paper on the ground in a fit of rage, "you haven't given us any news in years and you have the gall to not tell us your address?!"

Fumi shrank away at the sight of the raging woman, but he thinks he understands.

"You!" Dorm Mother Fumio raised her voice, and Fumi shrieked at the sudden address, "what's your relationship with Jouichirou??"

"Huh-- what? My relationship with, Jou-san, uh," Fumi blew into a panic, hiding behind something tall-- oh, it's a senior that came down because there was too much noise. "He's my uh," he spluttered, "my sister's... he's my brother-in-law?"

There's a pregnant silence as the information sank in.

"Saiba-senpai got himself a girl?!"

"Saiba-senpai?!"

"Did someone say Saiba-senpai?!"

"Saiba-senpai? Where??"

Fumi shrank until he was just a curled little ball on the ground. Oh no, did he say something wrong? Is Jouichirou a taboo topic here? Yeah, he was a student here only three or four years ago, it made sense that there were still people that knew him in this dorm.

(What exactly did Jouichirou do in this school? He never told Fumi, he only told Tamako...)

"Hey, you guys, you're freaking him out!"

Fumi had used a senior as a wall just now, and now said senior was lecturing the band of busybodies that had made their way down the stairs.

"I know all of you are crazy over Saiba-senpai, but be reasonable," the senior said, calmly, "questions come one at a time, at a later date."

With separate groans of dejection and a few whines about how 'Sekimori-san' was being 'stingy with the new kids', the crowd dissipated and returned to their rooms.

Fumi was officially scared of teenagers.

"Now then," Sekimori-senpai put a reassuring hand on Fumi's head, but didn't tell the kid to get up or anything, "what to do, Fumio-san?"

Fumi looked up, a tear in his eye almost hopeful.

Sekimori was probably from the High School division. He was significantly plainer in appearance compared to everyone else thus far. Japanese in demeanor, he had black hair, and fox eyes.

Instead of a school uniform, he was wearing a traditional japanese chef uniform, a sushi coat. It was evident what his specialty dishes were.

"Well, if Jouichirou wants me to take care of a kid, I could make an exception, but then that wouldn't be fair..." Fumio hummed, "but then again, Jouichirou wouldn't ask for it if there wasn't a reason."

"Eh- no, it's fine!" Fumi flustered, quickly saying, "I don't... it's okay if I sleep outside, I'll just, I'll just uh, try again tomorrow!"

Why was he stuttering so much? That's embarrassing.

He clambered up to his feet and took a step back.

"I did tell Jou-san that I was going to try and be independent once I left, so I can't keep relying on him," Fumi said, after calming down and taking a few breaths, "thanks again, Fumio-san, and thank you for the help, Sekimori-senpai."

He didn't wait for their response before leaving, but he was fairly sure he got his point across.

-

He snatched up a sleeping bag, found a corner with the rest of the seniors, and went to sleep after a nice, campfire dinner of canned food.

According to the rest of the seniors, they could even make sure miserable food amazing to eat. Fumi wasn't sure, he couldn't tell. He just knew it was filling, complimented it, and excused himself to retire for the night.

Everyone here aimed so high.

There was a senior from the next town over, heir of some famed Udon House. Udon was his soul food, apparently, and he wouldn't let Fumio be until she acknowledged that too.

Then there was this other guy, a brute. His father was someone who once made a name. He wanted to climb up the Elite Ten seats, and get the name spread out to the world one more time, even if he had to claw his way up with bloody fingers.

They all had aspirations, dreams, and such good reasons to have overflowing determination.

Fumi had none of that. He just wanted to enjoy himself.

His fingers found themselves at a familiar number, and before he'd realized, it was calling for the warmth he missed.

"Hey, Fumi! Guys, guys, shush! It's Fumi!"

Hearing the hustle and bustle of Yukihira through the phone was enough to make him crack into a smile. He could hear Tomita-san yell for "Fumi-pon, we miss you!" in the background, and Grandma Kiyo's calm voice of "oh, I can't hear him," in the corner.

"Uh-- Hey," he tried hesitantly, and immediately the world blew up once again.

It's Fumi! It's really Fumi. he's so far away! Are you eating? Tell me you ate something good! Did you eat the Dorm Mother's cooking or did you go for the bare minimum please take care of yourself! How is your first day at school?

Fumi could only laugh at the chaos.

"Fumi, how's the school? We checked the site and it's huge, you're not lost, are ya?"

"No, no, I'm not lost," Fumi insisted quickly-- and he realizes that his nerves are gone. The weight that pressed deep in his chest, making him feel nauseated-- it was gone. Now he could breathe, now he was calm. Now he could speak normally. "But I did fail the entrance for the dorms, so I'm camping outside with some of the seniors today."

"EhhhHH?!"

"No way, Fumi failed the dorm test??"

"Preposterous, how could our Fumi-pon fail anything?!"

Fumi laughed again. They really had so much confidence in him, it made him sort of embarrassed to be so loved. Maybe they had something to do with how shaken he felt about his failures today.

(Oh, was today his first ever failure? Is that why he was so scared?)

"I'll try again tomorrow," and this time he said it with a lot more confidence. The pain in his finger didn't bother him as much anymore. "I won't fail this time."

"Of course! You're the pride and joy of our Shopping District, after all!"

"Go for it, Fumi-pon!"

"Show those city boys you've got spunk!"

"Tomita-san, we're technically a part of the city too."

"But everyone else in that school probably live in castles their whole life! They're total rich boys!"

Fumi listened to the cacophony as everyone on the other end fought for the phone, and sometimes even argued over something stupid.

It was Sumiredoori at its finest, and he loved it.

"So, Kiyofumi, made any new friends?" Uncle Yukihira spoke into the phone this time. Seems he's left the crowd to talk from the bar.

"Hey, Fumi, have you cried at anything yet?" Jouichirou teased loudly, "classes are usually harder on the first week, y'know, cause they wanna scare the wimpy kids off first."

Fumi flushed bright red at that. Okay, no way was he telling Jouichirou he cried today.

"Of course not!" he shrieked, then apologized to the seniors on the other side that looked over in concern, "I'm not a kid, I don't cry!"

He rubbed at his eyes again. Oh, they were definitely going to be red tomorrow.

He heard them laugh from the other end of the phone, and somehow a part of him warms up. Maybe, just maybe, things would be alright after all.

"It's hard," he said, his voice weak, "but... but I won't run away yet."

He heard Jouichirou give a deep, understanding hum.

"Keep going, kid," he said, "you're the kind of person that can make it up all the way. You're the kid I acknowledged, after all."

Fumi isn't too sure why that made him so happy. He blushed madly at that, and although Jouichirou couldn't see him, he covered his own face.

"Oh, stop being embarrassing, Jou-san!" he whined, "hand the phone back and let me talk to Nee-chan already!"

Somehow, for a very long and very happy moment, Fumi felt like he could actually do it.