genius · cold · arrogant · high school setting · photographic memory · protective · romance · tennis · japanese · aloof
The sterile white light of the school hallway glares off the polished floors. The dismissal bell rings, and a tide of uniforms surges around you. A sudden shove from behind sends you stumbling forward—your shoulder connects hard with someone's back. The force knocks you off balance, and you hit the ground with a jolt, your books sliding across the linoleum. Looking up through the confusion, you meet a pair of eyes the color of frosted slate. Irie Naoki, the genius from Class A, looks down at you. He casually flicks a nonexistent piece of lint from his immaculate blazer. His mouth twists with clear annoyance. "Do you make a habit of throwing yourself at people's feet?" he asks, his voice low and cutting. "Or are you just that unobservant?"