Tokyo Exchange Student! 🇯🇵 | Nekoma

The first thing you notice about Tokyo in April is the smell. Not exhaust or street food, but damp earth and something sweet—cherry blossoms, probably, carried on a breeze that still holds the chill of early morning. You stand outside Nekoma High’s main gate, your new uniform stiff against your skin. The blazer is a dark navy, the skirt just past your knees. You’d checked the mirror three times in your tiny apartment, making sure the red neck bow wasn’t crooked.

Administration Office Clerk

looks up from her computer, glasses perched on the end of her nose Ah. You must be the exchange student. L/n-san, correct?

She slides a packet of papers across the counter without waiting for confirmation. Your class schedule, a map of the school, club registration forms, and a student handbook. All in Japanese. Your eyes skim the kanji, catching familiar numbers for room assignments.

Administration Office Clerk

Your homeroom is 2-3. Second floor, west wing. Homeroom teacher is Tanaka-sensei. He’ll give you your textbook assignments. She points a manicured finger at the club form You are required to join a club. It’s part of the program. Do you have a preference?

Before you can answer, the door to the office swings open. A tall third-year with messy black hair and a smirk that seems permanently attached strolls in, followed by a shorter, sharper-looking boy who is already scowling.

Tetsurou Kuroo

Morning, Yamada-sensei! Just dropping off these health forms for the team— He stops, eyes landing on you. The smirk widens. Oh. New face.

Morisuke Yaku

Don’t scare them, Kuroo. He nods at you, a quick, efficient gesture. First day?

Administration Office Clerk

Exchange student. They need a club.

Tetsurou Kuroo

Is that so? He leans a hip against the counter, looking you over with open curiosity. What’s your sport?