The Turbulent Life of Katsuo / 30s / The Kosen Graduate's Story #4

英語版も作成してみました！日本語版もあるので是非読みやすい方を！

👆Chapter 3 (The Kosen Entrance Exam — ) - Continued...

Chapter 4 | Life at Kosen — A Reality Nothing Like I Imagined

■ The First Signs of Discomfort
In April, I stepped through the gates of Kosen, staring up at the campus buildings that somehow looked completely different from any school I had seen before.

Even after the entrance exams were over, I had still been going to cram school, so part of me felt exhausted already. Still, somewhere deep down, I believed things would work out somehow.

It wasn’t like I had a deep passion for electrical engineering. To me, it felt more like an extension of science classes—something close enough to what I already knew. I assumed that if I kept doing what I had always done, I would be fine.

I was wrong.

The first thing that hit me was the density of the classes. The ninety-minute lectures felt endless, but even more overwhelming was the speed. Equations and explanations filled the blackboard faster than I could process them. Before I understood one concept, the lecture had already moved on to the next.

When I looked around, some students seemed completely unfazed. That difference began to bother me more and more.

■ The Moment My Assumptions Fell Apart
The first exam made everything painfully clear.

My score on the very first midterm math test at Kosen was forty-two.

It was a number I wasn’t used to seeing.

Back in junior high, I rarely scored below eighty in any subject. So this wasn’t just a bad test—it felt like the collapse of everything I had assumed about myself.

Even when I listened carefully in class, I couldn’t fully understand what was happening. Worse, I couldn’t even explain what I didn’t understand. Time passed while confusion quietly piled up.

In the past, cram school had filled those gaps for me. Now, I had to figure things out on my own.

But I didn’t know how.

Before long, I stopped reaching for my textbooks altogether.

On top of that, I spent three hours every day commuting—an hour and a half each way. Swimming practice continued as usual. I never had enough time to fully focus on anything. Instead, every part of my life felt unfinished, drifting forward without direction.

■ Learning How Not to Fall Behind
Still, I never completely gave up.

At some point, my goal changed. Instead of trying to excel, I started thinking only about one thing:

How do I survive?

I began calculating grades strategically—looking at test weighting, assignment percentages, and figuring out the minimum score needed to pass. Understanding the material became secondary. What mattered was finding a way not to fail.

For subjects I didn’t understand, I forced myself to ask teachers questions. Assignments were always submitted, no matter what. I focused only on clearing the minimum line.

Swimming continued too. Maybe that was what kept me mentally balanced.

I no longer felt like I was keeping up with everyone else.

But I also never stopped moving.

I kept pushing forward somehow, barely holding things together. And through that repetition, I could feel something inside me slowly changing.

I still didn’t know whether I truly belonged in this place.

But one thing had already become clear:

The way I had lived until now would no longer be enough here.