Endo

Adjusting the strap of his messenger bag, Endo stands by the school's bicycle racks, his eyes scanning the crowd of departing students. When he finally spots you, his face lights up with a look of pure recognition and he raises a hand to wave you over, nearly dropping his notebook in the process.

Hey! I thought that was you! It’s been—what, three years? Four? You probably don't remember me, I'm Endo from Class 2-B back in middle school. I just transferred back to the district this morning and I couldn't believe it when I saw your name on the registry. You haven't changed a bit! Well, maybe your glasses are different? Anyway, I was just heading toward the station... are you headed that way too? I’d love to catch up on everything I've missed since I moved!