His name was Silva Schneizel, and as you might have guessed, he was a rather unfortunate 17 year old high school student.

  Every morning, he endured what could only be described as abuse disguised as training, all courtesy of his grandfather. Since he could remember, this had been his daily routine, stretching back 8 or 9 years.

  Apparently, his parents had passed away when he was a child. He says "apparently" because his grandfather had never been clear about how they died. He didn't know if it was due to illness or an accident, and there wasn't even a gravestone.

  Maybe there was a grave somewhere, but since he had never been taken to visit it, he remained in the dark. For all he knew, his parents could still be alive somewhere, but he had little interest in those who weren't part of his life. Alive or dead, if they weren't around to support him, they might as well not exist.

  And so, he lived with his grandfather in a quiet neighborhood.

  His appearance was average at best, and opinions on his looks varied. Some might describe him as having a "rugged" face, which sounded positive, but calling it "harsh featured" gave it a negative spin. In reality, it was probably just a typical English man face.

  His build, however, was anything but typical. To put it bluntly, Silva was solid not because he was overweight, but because his muscles were honed and sculpted to the extreme, like steel. His limbs were as thick as logs, the polar opposite of the lean, muscular trend currently in vogue.

  His nickname in high school was "The Sleeping Bear," a nod to his gentle demeanor paired with his bear like physique.

  His biggest insecurity was his mature looking face, which was his greatest source of worry. Most people around him said he looked like he was between 20 and 25, even though he was only 17. Such an assessment was almost enough to make him faint.

  One of the few advantages of looking older was that he could easily buy adult games and drink alcohol without being questioned. Even his grandfather didn't reprimand him for these things, in fact, he seemed pleased when Silva joined him for a drink.

  Given all this, it was no surprise he didn't have a girlfriend. At home, he was put through the wringer in the name of "training" by his grandfather, and while he wasn't bullied at school, it wasn't exactly a source of joy either. He got along well enough with his classmates but didn't have any particularly close friends.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  An average high schooler with a streak of bad luck that was Silva Schneizel. Still, he had a simple dream of one day meeting a cute girl and settling down, like any ordinary guy. But on this day, during lunch break, that dream would be shattered, plunging him into a personal hell.

...

  "Phew... Finally, lunchtime."

  After his morning classes ended, Silva let out a sigh of relief as he reached for his lunchbox. that had been lovingly prepared by Elena that morning.

  At Silva's high school, lunch break stretched from 12 to 1 p.m. Holding his lunchbox and a bottle of tea, Silva made his way to the classroom door.

  "Silva... Off to eat on the rooftop again? Why not join us this time?"

  A classmate, busy setting up lunch with a group of friends who had pushed their desks together, called out to him. She was a cute girl with long hair and big eyes.

  Silva paused at the door, a brief look of indecision crossing his face, but he quickly turned back to her with a smile.

  "Ah, sorry, maybe next time!"

  It wasn't that Silva didn't want to eat with his classmates. The truth was, he preferred to eat alone because he didn't want anyone to see his lunch. Elena's lunchbox were too adorable for his image or at least, that's what he thought.

  There was a recent trend among girls were they make and shape various characters from ingredients into their lunch boxes and Elena was quite skilled at it. Her range was impressive, she could craft anything from Pikachu to other popular characters using just the contents of the lunchbox. Frankly, Silva wished she would stop making these character themed lunches for him.

  As a high school student, having a lunch with Pikachu's face on it was not exactly the epitome of cool. It might be cute for girls, but for him, it felt like it was wrecking his reputation. However, Elena didn't seem to consider how this might affect Silva's image.

  Back in middle school, this wasn't an issue since the school provided lunch. But in high school, students had to bring their own meals. With his parents not around and his grandfather not the type to make lunch, Silva got into the habit of buying bread from the school store. Then Elena volunteered to make lunch for him.

  Silva had accepted her offer gratefully, but the first time he opened his lunch during the break, he was shocked.

  (Even now, the memory sends shivers down my spine...)

  Silva still trembled when he thought about it. He managed to eat in secret, preserving his dignity, but when he called Elena to complain, the next day's lunch turned into a plain "bread and fries".

  Eventually, Silva swallowed his pride and apologized to Elena, and so his lunches continued to be elaborate "character from Pokemon."

  "You always say 'next time'! Ugh... Fine. But next time, you better join us!"

  She pouted, looking even cuter. Silva raised his hand in mock surrender, and she sat back down, smiling. She didn't seem too upset. It was just typical high school banter.

  "Sorry, sorry. I promise, next time!"

  On nice days, Silva's routine was to head up to the rooftop for lunch and a nap until the bell rang.

  "Alright, see you later."

  He waved to his classmate as he left the classroom. It was just as Silva was climbing the stairs to the rooftop that everything changed.