Katsuragi Kokoro slid open the classroom door with a soft shhk. The quiet noise barely registered beneath the rising chatter inside the room.
The classroom was already alive.
Clusters of students had formed around desks pushed together. Laughter rang out in short bursts, interrupted by the digital pings of games and group chats. Two boys sat in the middle row, hunched over their phones, yelling in sync—clearly playing the same online match. Nearby, a trio of girls were already exchanging contact info and snacks, laughing like they'd known each other for months instead of minutes.
Already in groups, Kokoro noted quietly.
He stood near the door for a second too long, eyes scanning the room, his hand still lightly gripping the strap of his bag. The warmth of the morning sunlight filtered through the windows, but it didn't reach him.
A tight feeling bloomed in his chest. Not unfamiliar.
Just like middle school.
Everyone else seemed to slip into groups so easily—like they'd been waiting for each other. Meanwhile, Kokoro had always been on the outside, trailing behind conversations or watching from his seat while others laughed and connected.
He exhaled silently and moved forward, his footsteps lost under the classroom buzz.
Then his eyes were drawn to her.
Seated at the center of the room, by the window, was a girl who seemed untouched by the chaos. Her white hair shimmered like moonlight, barely grazing her shoulders. Her eyes, pale and deep, were fixed on the cherry blossoms fluttering outside.
She didn't acknowledge the circle of boys around her, nor the scattered questions tossed her way.
"Are you half-European?"
"Did you model before school?"
"Hey, are you in the top ten of the entrance exam?"
She gave them nothing.
Just silence, and the breeze tugging at her hair.
Her uniform was pristine, her black blazer framing her figure in a way that seemed both elegant and cold. She looked like she had stepped out of a high-end magazine—refined, composed, distant.
Kokoro didn't stop to stare like the others.
He walked past her desk with quiet steps, already scanning the back rows.
Let them talk to her. Let them crowd around and chase her like moths. That world's not for me.
He found an empty seat near the corner of the room, the one farthest from the door. Perfect. He set his bag down and slipped into the chair with a quiet sigh.
No one had really paid him much attention. And honestly? That was fine.
That was good.
Yet as he sat there, pulling out his phone and checking the time, the early sting of loneliness crept in again.
He glanced up.
Groups were still forming. Names were being shared, phones compared, jokes tossed around like currency. That familiar wall stood between him and all of it.
Still, maybe…
Maybe this time… things might be different.
Kokoro thought about the long school year ahead. About the possibility—just maybe—of finding someone he could talk to. He wasn't expecting anything. But a small part of him, deep down, hoped.
Just one friend would be nice.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rising murmur from the center of the classroom.
"Did you hear? Someone in our class got a perfect score on the entrance exam."
"It's gotta be that white-haired girl, right?"
"She's probably some genius heiress. Totally has that vibe."
"Actually—no. She was second place," someone cut in.
A beat of silence followed. Then—
"What? Then who—?"
"I hope it's a girl. A cute, bookish genius."
"Please let it be a guy. Like some mysterious prince type."
"Could it be someone already here?"
"Someone said they saw the name earlier, but I dunno—"
A few students exchanged glances but said nothing. Some clearly knew. They just didn't say it.
Then the door opened again.
The room quieted for the second time that morning.
A girl stepped in—no taller than 149 centimeters, but carrying herself with the confidence of someone twice her size. Short, golden-yellow hair curled softly around her cheeks, and her eyes—bright orange like a setting sun—scanned the room like she was searching for someone specific.
She walked forward without hesitation, her steps light but sure.
Kokoro blinked. The girl looked… small. Petite. Almost like a doll come to life.
But her eyes were sharp. Focused.
Like someone who had already measured the room, and wasn't impressed.
For a moment, it looked like she was about to speak. Her posture straightened, lips parting slightly—
Then she said nothing. She simply found an empty desk by the window and sat.
The silence burst into chatter again.
"Wait, wait, she's the top scorer?"
"The hell? A loli genius?"
"I'm not sure if I should be afraid or impressed."
"Definitely both."
Kokoro listened but didn't join in.
He glanced at the girl, now pulling out her notebook calmly, ignoring the buzz she'd caused.
He didn't know it yet, but the classroom had just gained its quiet storm.
And far from the chaos, near the windows, the white-haired girl slowly turned her head.
Her eyes—those soft, frozen eyes—followed Kokoro for just a second.
Long enough to notice him.
Long enough to long for something.
But not long enough for him to feel it.
---
20 minutes past by and the classroom door slid open with a soft clack.
"Good morning, class," came a calm, pleasant voice.
A woman entered, elegant and composed, with chestnut brown hair tied in a loose bun, smart glasses resting on her nose, and a warm smile. Her light gray blazer and matching skirt suggested a firm but kind professionalism.
"I'm your homeroom teacher, Matsumoto Akane. I'll be overseeing Class 1-A this year. I look forward to teaching all of you."
"Good morning, sensei!" came a chorus of voices, some eager, some still half-asleep.
"To start the term off right," she continued, placing a folder on her desk, "we'll begin with introductions. Please stand, one at a time, and tell us your name, your likes, dislikes, and your hobbies. Keep it simple, but make it count."
There was a stir of nervous energy as the first row prepared.
A slightly chubby boy with round glasses stood up, pushing his chair back with an audible scrape.
"Uh… I'm Kubo Haruki. I like building plastic models and astronomy. I dislike seafood. My hobby is… collecting train tickets from places I've visited."
A few students chuckled gently. "Train tickets?"
"That's kinda cute…"
Next came a girl with twin braids and a bright smile.
"My name is Ishida Nao! I love idol music, especially the group Candy Prism! I hate rude people, and my hobby is dancing and karaoke!"
A few students clapped softly. Nao gave a twirl before sitting back down, her energy contagious.
Then a boy with dyed red streaks in his hair stood up and cracked his knuckles with a grin.
"Name's Fujimoto Riku. I like fighting games, spicy food, and loud music. I hate mornings. Hobby? Street dancing."
"Whoa, he looks cool."
"Rebellious vibe."
"Hope he doesn't start trouble," someone murmured.
Then came a soft-spoken girl with glasses who stood and gave a small bow.
"My name is Hanabusa Mei… I like books and tea. I dislike loud noises and bugs. My hobby is reading classical literature and writing poems..."
"Aww, that's so proper!"
"She's like… elegant in a quiet way."
The chatter continued with more students taking their turns. Each introduction added color to the classroom's character.
Then it was Wakanabe Mika's turn.
She stood gracefully, her pale white hair shimmering under the lights. Her soft white eyes scanned the class, and when she spoke, her voice was calm and clear.
"My name is Wakanabe Mika. I like cherry blossom trees… I dislike wasps. My hobby is playing the piano."
A hushed silence followed.
"Her voice…"
"So elegant…"
"She's like a princess."
Even some girls nodded in admiration. One whispered, "She's so composed… like a noble lady."
And then, standing confidently despite her small stature, Kojima Sayori took her turn.
"My name is Kojima Sayori! I like playing games, I hate not being able to play games, and my hobby is spending money on gacha pulls and collecting SSRs!"
Laughter broke out.
"Is she serious?"
"She's the top scorer?! Wait… is gaming the key?!"
Sayori smirked, unfazed. "Yes, my gacha luck is legendary. Bow before it."
The class loved her already.
But then, the attention shifted.
It was Katsuragi Kokoro's turn.
He stood slowly. His sharp features and tall frame became suddenly noticeable—so much so that a few girls blinked in surprise.
"Wait… who's he?"
"Was he in our class this whole time?"
"He's… tall."
Kokoro cleared his throat.
"M-my name is Katsuragi Kokoro. I like food. I dislike creepy insects. My hobby is… drawing."
Simple. Honest.
And for a moment, there was a hum of murmuring around him.
"His voice doesn't match his looks…"
"But he's kind of cool in a lowkey way."
"Did he say drawing?"
From her seat, Mika cast a glance his way, a rare flicker of emotion in her pale eyes. Quiet, but unmistakable.
Then more introductions came.
A cheerful girl with round cheeks and messy hair stood up next.
"Hi! I'm Tanaka Fumika. I love baking—especially cookies and cupcakes! I hate math. My hobby is making sweets and feeding them to people. If you ever feel down, come to me!"
Someone shouted, "YES, Fumika-chan!!"
Then came a tall, sleepy-eyed boy with messy silver hair.
"...Name's Nakajima Rei. I like napping. I hate crowds. Hobby's... sleeping."
The class chuckled again.
Another boy jumped up—short, wiry, with a constant grin.
"Yo! Kenta's the name! I love comedy, hate homework, and I spend my time making videos with my friends! Subscribe to my channel!"
"Sit down, LouTuber," someone threw a paper ball at him.
The class was fully alive now.
The classroom wasn't just a room full of students—it was starting to feel like a real community, full of clashing personalities, potential friendships, and future stories.
As Kokoro sat back in his chair, listening to them all laugh, whisper, joke, and sigh—he couldn't help but feel it.
This might actually be different from middle school.
This time… maybe he wouldn't be alone.