---
The rest of homeroom passed in a haze.
I kept my head down the entire time, pretending to be asleep, though in reality, my mind was spinning like a washing machine set to maximum spin cycle. I could still feel Misaki Ayane's gaze on me, sharp and unrelenting, like a predator watching its prey.
Why?
Why me?
What did I do to deserve this?!
Okay — technically, I didn't do anything. That's the problem.
I never asked for this stupid "delinquent" reputation. I didn't pick these sharp eyes, or this naturally tense expression, or the aura of 'don't mess with me' that people keep claiming I have. I was just a socially anxious guy who preferred the quiet. The corner seat by the window was my safe haven.
And now it was ruined.
Because she was sitting right next to me.
When the bell rang to signal the end of homeroom, the classroom instantly burst into noisy chatter. Students started gathering in little groups, discussing the transfer student, sneaking glances at me like they were watching an action movie's climactic final battle.
I stayed where I was, praying that Misaki would get bored and leave.
No such luck.
"Yo."
I tensed as a voice came from the seat beside me.
I risked a glance.
Yep. Still there.
Misaki Ayane sat casually in her chair, one arm propped up on the desk, chin resting on her hand as she stared at me with a faint, amused smirk. She had the kind of expression that made it impossible to tell what she was thinking — a mix of curiosity and challenge.
I immediately looked away.
Don't engage. Ignore her. She'll get bored and go away. Like a stray cat.
"You're quieter than I expected," she commented.
"Rumors made you sound like a walking disaster."
I felt my jaw tighten.
Why is she talking to me? Doesn't she care about the rumors? Is she insane?
I debated whether to respond or stay silent. Socializing wasn't exactly my strong suit. In fact, my longest conversation this week was probably with the cafeteria lady when I asked for extra rice.
Still, it would be rude not to say anything.
"...Don't believe everything you hear."
My voice came out lower and rougher than I intended. I winced internally. It probably sounded like a threat. Damn it.
But instead of recoiling, Misaki snorted.
"Heh. Figures. Most people are full of crap anyway."
She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head.
"This school's been nothing but rumors since I walked in. Half the class looked ready to faint when I said I was sitting here."
Yeah, well, that's because no one's ever dared sit next to me before.
Ever since middle school, people avoided the seat beside mine like it was cursed. It was kind of impressive how consistently empty it stayed. Even in exams, the teachers left it open. It was my unspoken barrier of solitude.
And now this girl just strolled in and claimed it like it was nothing.
"...You're not scared?" I muttered, not looking at her.
"Should I be?"
I blinked.
Either this girl was way too brave, or she had no sense of self-preservation.
Or… maybe she was just as weird as the rumors about me claimed I was.
Before I could reply, our math teacher — a balding man with glasses who always looked like he wanted to retire early — shuffled into the classroom.
"Alright, settle down, you little punks. Open your textbooks to page 46."
I sighed in relief, grateful for the distraction.
Math class was one of the few times I could zone out without attracting too much attention. I pulled out my notebook, flipping it open as the lecture droned on.
But even then, I could feel it.
Her stare.
Every so often, I caught Misaki glancing at me out of the corner of my eye, her expression unreadable. It wasn't the cautious, fearful look the others gave. It was something else entirely. Like she was studying me. Measuring me.
And I didn't like it one bit.
---
Break time.
The bell rang again, and students hurried out of the room like prisoners escaping a cell. As usual, no one approached my desk.
Well… except one person.
"Hey. You eat lunch alone too?"
I almost dropped my pencil.
I looked up to find Misaki standing beside my desk, holding her lunch bag in one hand. The girl was relentless. Didn't she get the memo? Interacting with me was social suicide in this school.
"...Yeah. So what?"
"Cool. I hate eating with crowds."
Without waiting for permission, she plopped down in the empty seat beside me — the one that hadn't been occupied by anyone since first year — and unwrapped her lunch like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I stared at her, dumbfounded.
What the hell is with this girl?!
She didn't seem bothered by the gaping stares of our classmates. In fact, she didn't even glance their way. It was like none of it mattered to her.
I hesitated, then pulled out my own lunch.
A simple rice ball and a carton of tea. Cheap, easy, and convenient. I wasn't much of a cook.
"...You're seriously brave." I muttered.
Misaki raised an eyebrow.
"For sitting here? Pfft. Whatever. I've dealt with worse. People talking crap doesn't mean anything if they don't have the guts to say it to your face."
I blinked.
Okay, so she was a little bit terrifying too. But in a weirdly refreshing way.
We ate in awkward silence for a while, and for the first time in… well, ever, someone sat next to me without immediately bolting.
And maybe, just maybe… it wasn't as awful as I thought.
To Be Continued…