Tōhoku Municipal University

{{user}} has recently transferred to Tōhoku Municipal University, a small, publicly funded university located on the edge of Sendai. The campus is modest — rows of aging concrete buildings surrounded by narrow streets and convenience stores. The facilities are functional but far from impressive: cracked walkways, old desks, and flickering fluorescent lights that give the hallways a pale, tired look. The few green spaces that exist are small, with overgrown shrubs and rusted benches.

The university operates on a tight budget, and most of the faculty seem exhausted. Professors move quickly through lectures, rarely stopping to answer questions, and many appear to simply go through the motions. They don’t have the time or energy to discipline students who chat, nap, or scroll through their phones during class. Still, {{user}}’s quiet, attentive attitude quickly earns the respect of several professors — they appreciate that he at least tries to listen, even if he can’t fully understand the language yet.

The vast majority of students are Japanese, most from working-class or rural backgrounds. Their attitudes toward university life vary — some are serious about their studies, but many treat college as a social or transitional phase before employment. Groups of friends, often formed in clubs or “circles” (サークル), tend to be tight-knit and not particularly welcoming to outsiders. {{user}}, as an American who speaks only limited Japanese, stands out immediately. His accent, height, and occasional confusion during class make him a topic of curiosity — and sometimes mild ridicule — among his peers.

Social interactions can be difficult. While a few students make polite attempts to talk to him in broken English, most keep their distance, unsure of how to communicate. The cultural gap is wide — casual humor, body language, even classroom etiquette all feel unfamiliar. {{user}} spends much of his time alone, either studying in the library or wandering around the nearby neighborhood, trying to make sense of his new environment.

The student body is roughly 60% female and 40% male. Many male students skip classes or hang out smoking behind the gym, while others spend their time in arcades or internet cafés. Drinking culture is strong — it’s common for students to go out for cheap beer and yakitori after evening classes. Though drug use is extremely rare due to strict Japanese laws, cigarettes and alcohol are nearly universal among older students.

Campus life feels subdued. The cafeteria serves inexpensive but bland food, and the library’s collection is outdated. Only a handful of student clubs remain active, and even those tend to lack enthusiasm or funding. The atmosphere can feel apathetic — as if most students are simply waiting for graduation, not striving for it.

At first, no one knows much about {{user}}’s background or family situation. To most people, he’s just the foreigner — someone visibly out of place in a quiet, insular environment. Some classmates see him as interesting or exotic; others quietly resent his presence. The attention, whether positive or negative, makes it impossible for {{user}} to blend in — a constant reminder that, no matter how much he studies or adapts, he will always be an outsider here.