As dawn crept into the room, soft light filtering through the curtains, Ren pushed himself up. His legs were shaky as he walked to the window, watching the early morning light spill across the city.
Downstairs, Yujiro sat at the table with a cup of coffee, reading the newspaper. Kiyomi was bustling around the kitchen, the sound of pans clattering as she made breakfast.
"He spent the entire night outside—God knows where or with whom," Kiyomi snapped, flipping a pancake. "You're not doing him any favors by just brushing it off."
Yujiro didn't look up from his paper, his tone calm but tinged with defense. "He heard you saying all this before, Kiyomi. That's why he ran away last night."
Kiyomi sighed, setting the spatula down with a little more force than necessary. She crossed her arms, her gaze sharp but tinged with worry. "And what, Yujiro? I'm just supposed to walk on eggshells around him? Yes, I'm being harsh because you have to be. Otherwise, he's going to stay like this forever. He can't just avoid everything for the rest of his life."
At that moment, Ren entered the kitchen. His appearance caught them both off guard— his hair was brushed, his clothes clean and neat. Though his eyes were tired, there was something different about him. He stood straighter, his expression less guarded than usual.
"I'm off to school," Ren said, his voice quieter than usual but steady.
Kiyomi blinked, momentarily stunned. "School?" she echoed, as though she hadn't heard him right.
Ren nodded, grabbing a slice of toast from the counter. "Yeah. It's about time, right?"
Yujiro's lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile as he sipped his coffee. Kiyomi opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped herself, studying him closely.
As Ren moved toward the door, Kiyomi suddenly called out, "Wait!" Ren paused, glancing back at her with a raised eyebrow.
"You're not leaving without your lunch," she said, her tone firm as she turned back to the stove. "Give me a minute."
Ren hesitated, looking at Yujiro for a moment before stepping just outside the room to wait. He leaned against the wall, fiddling with the strap of his bag, the faint sound of Kiyomi bustling in the kitchen reaching his ears.
Kiyomi quickly packed a bento box. She tied it neatly with a cloth and walked toward the doorway, where Ren was waiting. "Here," she said, holding it out to him.
Ren looked at the bento for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he reached out and took it, his fingers brushing against the fabric. "…Thanks," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Kiyomi stepped back, crossing her arms. "Don't lose it. And eat all of it. I don't care if you're late to class."
Ren managed a small, almost shy smile. "Got it."
As the door closed behind him, Kiyomi let out a slow breath, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, that's… unexpected," she muttered.
Yujiro glanced at her, his tone light but teasing. "Told you he'd come around. You shouldn't be so harsh with him."
Kiyomi shot him a look, though her lips twitched into the faintest smile. "Well someone has to push him."
Yujiro shook his head but didn't argue further, sipping his coffee again as the morning sunlight crept further into the room.
Ren stepped with uniform crisp but feeling strange on his shoulders. The streets still damp from an early drizzle, and for a moment, he'd almost felt normal. Almost.
But the moment he crossed the threshold into the school building, the weight settled back in.
As he moved through the corridors, the whispers started.
"Is that Ren?"
"Didn't he get suspended?"
"No, the suspension got lifted—"
"Shh, he'll hear you!"
Their voices floated just above a hush, but each word hit sharp and precise, like needles to the skin.
Ren kept walking, eyes forward, every step deliberate. He wasn't here for them. Not anymore.
He passed a row of tall windows, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught his reflection trailing him. The warped glass twisted his image just slightly—enough to bring back the memory of the person he used to be. Smug. Defiant. Untouchable. He stared at that flicker of his old self, that shadow that had followed him for so long.
But it didn't feel like him anymore.
Ren exhaled and turned his gaze away, leaving the ghost in the glass behind.
The whispers were still there, but he let them fade, like distant waves on a shore he no longer stood on.
He stepped into his classroom.
The usual morning buzz—low conversations, the scraping of chairs—wavered the moment he crossed the threshold. Heads turned. Words faltered mid-sentence. He kept his head down, eyes on the scuffed toes of his sneakers as he made his way to his desk at the back of the room.
No one spoke to him. No one greeted him.
Fine.
He slid into his seat, resting his chin on his hand and turning toward the window. The sky outside was dull, a flat stretch of gray. A breeze rattled the thin trees lining the yard, and in the distance, a lone bird flapped its wings and disappeared into the heavy clouds.
Ren watched it, but only vaguely. His body was here, but his mind floated somewhere in between—yesterday's tears still fresh in his memory, and tomorrow's uncertainties pressing in like a fog.
The door thudded open sharply.
The teacher entered, heels tapping across the floor, her sharp presence slicing through the hush of the room. Without a word, the class straightened up, and the murmur died completely.
Attendance began, each name a beat in the steady rhythm of normalcy.
"Tanaka Yuto."
"Here."
"Ishikawa Mai." "Here!"
On and on it went, the familiar pattern blurring in Ren's ears, a soft, background hum he barely registered.
Then, with a firm thud, the teacher shut the book and looked up.
"Now, before we begin," she said, her gaze sweeping across the room, "we have a new transfer student joining us today."
The energy in the room shifted—an undercurrent of curiosity sparking to life. Chairs creaked, heads lifted.
"You can come in now," the teacher called toward the door.
The sliding door opened.
And in stepped Celia.
Ren's breath hitched. He knew that hair—cotton-candy strands of pink and blue that shimmered under the lights. That easy smile. That confident, almost glowing presence that made the classroom feel a shade dimmer by comparison.
"This is Celia," the teacher announced. "She's recently transferred here, so I expect you all to make her feel welcome."
"Hi everyone!" she chirped, her voice bubbling with energy. "I'm super excited to be here! I hope we can all be friends, so don't be shy, okay?" She winked playfully, tilting her head just enough to seem effortlessly charming.
The murmurs began at once.
"She's cute."
"Celia? Isn't that a foreign name? What kind of name is that?"
"Wow, her hair—"
Ren heard them, but the words were distant, muted by the strange, sharp focus that had taken hold of him.
His fingers twitched slightly on the desk, his eyes locked onto her.
"What's she doing here?"
The teacher clapped her hands once, cutting through the buzz. "Alright, settle down. Miss Lumeris, why don't you take the empty seat next to Hoshino?"
But Celia didn't budge.
Instead, her gaze swept the room, laser-focused, until her eyes locked onto Ren's. A spark of recognition—sharp, knowing—lit up her face. And then that smile… mischievous, deliberate, like she was in on a secret no one else knew.
"Actually," she said, with a sing-song lilt that made the room tilt toward her, "I'd rather sit next to Ren!"
A beat of stunned silence.
And then—
"Wait, she knows him?"
"No way. Ren?"
"Seriously?"
Ren stiffened, feeling the weight of every stare hit him at once. His jaw tensed, a muscle ticking.
The teacher blinked, clearly thrown. "Oh? You two already know each other?"
"Yup!" Celia said brightly, folding her hands behind her back, the picture of innocence and cheer. "We're already friends!"
Ren's eyes narrowed, his voice low and sharp. "Wha—?"
The teacher exhaled, clearly not in the mood to untangle this weirdness. "Fine. Sit next to Kurose."
"Yay!" Celia beamed, spinning on her shoes and practically skipping over to the desk beside Ren's. She plopped down with a flourish, the energy around her practically humming.
Leaning in just enough to invade his space, she propped her elbow on his desk and grinned up at him. "Yo, Ren! Bet you didn't expect to see me here."
Ren didn't turn fully, only shifting his eyes toward her, cold and clipped. "…What are you even doing here?"
Celia sighed dramatically, resting her chin on her hand, eyes sparkling like she was thoroughly enjoying this. "Aww, what's with that tone? Aren't you happy to see me?"
Ren's nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply through his nose. "That doesn't answer my question."
Celia gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. "Rude! After all this time, that's how you greet me?" She gave a theatrical shake of her head, tsking softly.
Ren's eyes narrowed further. "We literally just met yesterday."
She giggled, brushing a strand of pink-blue hair from her face. "Mmm, true… but yesterday counts as 'time,' doesn't it?"
The room around them buzzed louder now, the whispers impossible to ignore.
"She really does know him."
"What's going on between them?"
"I don't get it—he's always so quiet, and she's like… the total opposite."
Ren stared down at his desk, gripping his pencil a little too tightly, his jaw clenched. He could already tell this day was going to be exhausting.
And from the way Celia was smiling, like she was just getting started, he knew exactly who was to blame.