CHAPTER 7

The morning air was crisp as Ren Asakura walked quietly through the school gates. The sky above was grey, and the ground still carried the faint chill of the early hours.

His bag rested against one shoulder. His thoughts, heavier than usual, trailed behind him.

Near the courtyard, he spotted someone leaning against the fence, chatting idly with a few classmates—the same boy from yesterday. The one Ren had punched.

Ren walked up to him, slow and deliberate.

The moment their eyes met, the boy flinched—his shoulders tensing ever so slightly—but quickly masked it with a forced smirk. “What now?”

Ren stood silently for a breath, then bowed slightly.

“…About yesterday,” he said, voice low but clear. “I’m sorry. I lost control.”

The boy blinked, as if he didn’t expect it.

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “What? You apologizing now after flooring me like that?”

“I didn’t mean to involve anyone,” Ren added. “Especially not Hayami.”

There was a pause. Then the boy snorted and shook his head.

“…Didn’t expect the class creep to apologize, honestly,” he said with a short laugh. “Guess you’ve got some manners.”

Ren gave a small nod, accepting the jab without defense. Then, without another word, he turned and headed toward the shoe lockers.

That was when Rika Hayami appeared.

She stepped into his path, arms crossed, eyes sharp with irritation.

Ren stopped.

“…Hayami.”

“Why were you chasing those guys?” she asked flatly. “The ones from yesterday.”

Ren didn’t flinch. His gaze didn’t soften.

“It’s none of your business.”

Her brows twitched. “You made me fall, you know. And you’re saying it’s none of my business?”

“…I’m sorry for that,” Ren said quietly.

But Rika scoffed, stepping forward. “You should be. What kind of gloomy guy thinks it’s cool to act like some dark hero? It doesn’t suit you.”

Ren didn’t respond.

He only sighed—quiet and tired—and walked past her, his footsteps echoing lightly in the hallway.

Rika turned after him, annoyed.

“Hey! Don’t just walk away from me!”

But he didn’t look back.

He just kept walking.

And Rika stood there, a confused heat rising in her chest.

Lunch break.

Ren sat at his desk, a pair of earphones tucked into his ears, pencil gliding across his notebook. His lunch sat unopened beside him. He wasn’t eating. Just writing. Focused—like whatever he was thinking about was the only thing holding him up.

Behind him, laughter echoed.

Rika and her friends were sitting by the windows, eating and talking—loud enough for everyone to hear.

“So, like, he just ran into her and knocked her over,” one of them said, gesturing dramatically. “Then tried to act cool by walking away? Seriously, what a loser.”

Another chimed in, snickering. “And didn’t he punch someone too? Creepy and violent?”

Rika smirked a little, joining in half-heartedly. “He even stained my skirt… like, seriously. It was pathetic.”

The others burst out laughing.

But Rika’s eyes strayed again.

Over to the boy sitting at his desk—still scribbling, still focused, still ignoring them as if none of it mattered.

And that, somehow, irritated her more than anything.

What is he writing so seriously about?

Why doesn’t he react to anything?

She didn’t understand him.

And it bothered her.

After the final bell rang, the class began to empty out.

Ren stood up, packed his things methodically, and walked out with the same silent rhythm as always.

Rika watched from her desk.

That strange irritation gnawed at her again.

She didn’t know why.

But something about him didn’t fit the mold anymore.

Not the way she expected.

And that uncertainty… it stuck with her.

Even after he disappeared through the classroom door.