2

The desk to my right stayed empty for a few more minutes.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement near the classroom door. A girl stood just outside the glass pane, framed by the morning light, her hand lightly resting on the back of a wheelchair. She leaned forward slightly, speaking to the boy in the chair with a gentle smile before pushing him the rest of the way in.

She was the kind of girl who looked like she belonged in a picture book. Soft brown hair that fell just past her shoulders, clear skin, quiet posture. Not the kind of pretty that turned heads instantly, but the kind you’d remember later and wonder why.

The boy she was helping looked… tired. But not weak.

He sat low in his chair, arms draped over the sides like he’d already given up for the day, though his eyes were sharp under the tousled fringe of his hair. His chair rolled smoothly — modified, probably — with a small tray fixed to the front and a backpack hanging off the back.

They entered quietly.

"Sorry we’re late," the boy said with a dry voice, not quite loud, not quite apologetic.

Our teacher looked up from his notes and gave the faintest shrug.

"You’re here now. That’s enough for me."

The boy nodded and started pushing his wheels toward the back of the class on his own.

"I’ll sit in the back. It’s easier."

The girl beside him watched to make sure he moved fine on his own, then turned and scanned the room.

And then, just like that, she walked over and sat in the empty seat next to me.

She didn’t look nervous or hesitant — more like she simply followed the natural path of where she was supposed to go. Her bag rested on her lap for a moment before she placed it gently under her desk.

I tried not to stare. I was also very aware that I was, in fact, staring.

Our teacher cleared his throat.

"Right. Let’s get the formalities out of the way."

He clapped his hands once, a soft sound, then leaned back against the front desk with that same energy-conservation posture.

"You’re all now officially students of Hatsuzora High School — congratulations, I guess."

A few people clapped halfheartedly. Someone behind me let out a dramatic gasp like they were being knighted. I didn't even need to look to know who.

"This isn’t a top-tier school," the teacher went on. "We’re not the worst either. Somewhere comfortably in the middle. Like lukewarm tea. That’s our brand."

I heard a small laugh next to me — the girl. Her hand went up to her mouth quickly, like she didn’t mean for it to escape.

He continued, casually flipping open a folder.

"School rules are standard. Don’t bring stuff that’ll get you expelled. Respect your classmates. Don’t punch anyone unless you’re in a sanctioned sport. No phones during class — yes, I’ll notice. Yes, I will take them."

A few students pretended not to check their pockets.

"Club sign-ups start next week. Uniform checks are monthly. Attendance matters unless you’re on fire or hospitalized. And yes, you do actually need to study. I know. It’s tragic."

There was light laughter across the room. The mood was warming up.

I felt a soft tap on my arm.

I turned.

The girl next to me leaned in just slightly, her voice a gentle whisper.

"Hey. What’s your name?"

I blinked. It took a second longer than it should have.

"Ah— Kaito. Kaito Sakamura."

She nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek.

"I’m Haruka. Shiomi."

Her voice was just as soft as her expression. No stutter. No hesitation. She said it like we were already supposed to know each other.

I gave a small nod back. “Nice to meet you.”

She smiled. Not a big one — just enough to shift the space between us.

Before I could think of anything else to say, our teacher looked up from his notes again, eyes sharp despite his slouched posture.

"Oi, you two."

We both froze.

He pointed a finger lazily in our direction.

"No falling in love before the first period. I haven’t even taken attendance yet."

Laughter broke out across the classroom, louder this time. Some desks shook from elbows slapping wood. I heard Daiki wheeze behind me. Aoi whispered something that sounded like “I knew it.”

The boy in the front row by the window leaned back in his chair and raised a hand like he was placing an order at a diner.

"Sensei, if they get married, can they skip finals?"

Laughter broke out immediately. A few students actually clapped. Someone in the back whistled.

The teacher didn’t even blink. Just stared at him for a second.

"And there it is," he said, half to himself. "Took you long enough."

He pointed at the kid with his pen.

"Everyone, that’s our class joker. Try not to encourage him too much. His ego is already halfway out the window."

The boy grinned wide and offered a theatrical bow from his chair.

"Name’s Yuuto Takahashi, by the way!" he said brightly.

"Nobody asked," Mr. Nakano replied, flipping a page in his folder. "Now open your math textbooks. Let’s see how many of you remember anything from middle school."

A synchronized groan rolled through the room.

And just like that, high school truly began.

To Be Continued