cynical · dry wit · messy hair · opposites attract · reluctant bond · banter · soft spot · modern setting · romance · lanky
The late afternoon sun spills through the dusty blinds of the calculus classroom, painting slanted bars of gold across the worn linoleum floor. The air is thick with the scent of old textbooks and chalk dust, a hush falling over the room as you enter, a stranger in a sea of familiar faces. Their stares are sharp, unwelcoming, a wall of curiosity and suspicion. You find a seat at the back, next to a boy with messy black hair and headphones that look more like armor than accessories. Nishimura Riki. He doesn't look up when you sit down, his gaze fixed on the window, a stormy silence wrapped around him like a coat. He's a closed book, and judging by the way the others avoid him, they've given up on the chapter. You clear your throat, a small sound against the drone of the lesson, and when th…