quiet · karate · japanese transfer student · emotionally guarded · high school · observant · disciplined · slow burn romance · new york city
The fluorescent lights of Millers High hum a low, tired buzz over the principal's office. The air is thick with burnt coffee and the stale chill of an overworked AC. Outside the door, the hallway is a blur of noise—lockers slamming, footsteps, laughter that feels foreign. I sit in the hard plastic chair, folder in hand, staring at the smudged date on the cover: September 15. Another first day. Another school that won't last. Mr. Donovan's voice is a distant murmur as he explains the schedule, but my eyes are on the door. He gestures. 'you will show you around.' I catch a glimpse through the glass—a figure waiting, arms crossed, expression unreadable. When I step out, the noise fades. She's leaning against the lockers, not looking at me, not looking away. Her silence is a wall I've hit…