The Silent Seatmate

The seating arrangement had changed. Again.

Ren Takahashi slung his bag over his shoulder, scanning the classroom for his new seat. His usual spot—near the window, away from unnecessary conversations—was gone. Instead, his name was written next to Rika Fujisawa.

Ren exhaled silently. Great.

Rika was the kind of girl everyone knew. Smart, confident, respected. She wasn’t just popular—she was the type of student teachers trusted, classmates admired, and guys in class tried too hard to impress.

And now, he was sitting next to her.

He quietly took his seat, placing his notebook on the desk. He didn’t expect her to acknowledge him, and honestly, he preferred it that way. The last thing he wanted was unnecessary attention.

Lunch Break – A Silent Observation

Later that day, the classroom was buzzing with energy as students unpacked their lunches. Some left for the cafeteria, while others formed small groups at their desks.

Ren, as usual, stayed seated and pulled out a sketchbook instead of food. His hand moved fluidly, shading the details of a drawing—this time, a wolf’s head, its fur captured with precise strokes.

Across from him, Rika was mid-conversation with her friends when her eyes accidentally drifted toward his notebook.

Her laughter faded slightly.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze lingered for a second too long. She had seen people draw before—but not like this. His lines were clean, deliberate, almost professional.

One of her friends nudged her playfully. “You okay? You just zoned out.”

Rika blinked, snapping out of it. “Yeah, sorry.”

She turned away, acting as if she hadn’t seen anything.

Ren didn’t notice. He was too focused on his sketch.

The Silent Agreement

Days passed, and nothing changed. They sat next to each other, but they never spoke. No forced small talk. No awkward introductions.

Just… occasional glances.

Ren noticed the way Rika would check the clock every five minutes in math class, waiting for it to end.

Rika noticed how Ren always turned his pages carefully, like he respected his books.

Ren noticed that Rika tapped her pen three times on the desk before answering a teacher’s question.

Rika noticed that Ren never asked questions—he just understood.

Neither of them said anything about these little details.

Until one day—he stopped looking at her.

At first, she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she expected him to stare. But after four days of complete avoidance, she found herself… irritated.

During English class, she stole a glance at him. Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

She scowled. Why does this bother me?

Finally, one afternoon, when the silence stretched too long, she spoke. “You’re ignoring me.”

Ren didn’t look up. “I figured you wouldn’t want unnecessary attention. Your reputation comes first, right?”

Rika blinked. He remembered that?

For some reason, the answer unsettled her.

For the first time, she didn’t know how to respond.