The rain poured relentlessly outside, yet Saebohom School buzzed with life, unfazed by the storm.
In the hallway, Momo stepped closer to Yuna, her eyes sharp with mischief. Without warning, she shoved Yuna against the wall with dramatic flair.
"Why are you hiding under that cap?" Momo sneered, reaching for it. "Let us see that beautiful hair of yours."
Yuna struggled, holding onto her cap with all her strength. Momo, growing more aggressive, threw curses as she tried to yank it off. Their scuffle grew wild, and they both stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. Just as Momo was about to snatch the cap away, Kotoko came charging in.
Without hesitation, Kotoko shoved Momo aside and grabbed Yuna's hand, pulling her away. The two dashed down the hallway toward class, leaving Momo stunned behind them.
The soft murmur of rain echoed faintly outside the classroom windows, but inside, the atmosphere had shifted—quiet, focused, tense.
Mrs. Siren Ma'am stood at the front of the class, her presence calm and composed as always. She was one of those rare teachers who never raised her voice to gain respect. Her soft-spoken tone, warm eyes behind her glasses, and ever-patient smile had made her a favorite among students.
despite her kindness, there was something quietly commanding about her—when she spoke, everyone listened.
She glanced up from the attendance sheet, her voice just loud enough to cut through the murmuring.
"Soon, there will be an exam," she said, more to herself than the class, as she closed the register. Her tone was gentle, but the implication was clear—time was running out.
She stepped to the board, picking up the chalk with her usual grace."So, since I take your science class," she continued, turning to face them with a soft but determined smile, "we're going to move on to the next chapter today."
A few groans rose from the back, but she gave a tiny amused smile and ignored them."We don't have much time left. We also need to revise everything we've covered so far."
She paused, looking around the room with expectant eyes."If anyone has any questions about the new chapter, now's the time to ask.
As murmurs and whispers filled the room, hands shot up across the class—some genuine, some just stalling for time. Mrs. Siren answered each question with her usual grace, nodding, smiling… and occasionally dropping one of her signature roast-bombs that left the class wheezing.
For all her softness, her sarcasm level? Absolutely lethal. A gentle queen with a steel tongue.
Her eyes moved sharply from one corner of the room to another, then landed—unmistakably—on Yuna.
Ah. Target locked.
Yuna, the classroom's certified chaos ambassador, sat with the blankest expression, her head slightly tilted, as if lost in another universe. Her palm? Decorated in badly drawn Pokémon sketches—one of them looked like a dead Pikachu with a melted face. Not her best work.
Mrs. Siren's lips curved into a deceptively kind smile.
"Yuna," she said, sweetly. "Why don't you stand up?"
Yuna blinked once. Then twice. Her soul left her body.
She stood up like a soldier sent to execution.
"So," Mrs. Siren continued, clasping her hands behind her back. "You don't have any questions. That must mean you understood everything I taught so far, right?"
Yuna opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She didn't even know what chapter they were on. Hell, she wasn't even sure what subject they were doing. All she knew was Pikachu looked depressed and she was seconds away from social death.
Mrs. Siren tilted her head, her voice calm but laced with amusement now. "Yuna, I'm talking to you. Or should I be addressing the Pokémon on your hand instead?"
A wave of laughter rippled through the class. Yuna wanted to evaporate.
But Mrs. Siren's gaze, though sharp, held a glint of hidden fondness. She liked Yuna—maybe a bit too much. They had a strange bond, one built on sarcastic banter, quiet support, and years of her knowing Yuna's family personally.
Still, in front of the class?
She was not going to go easy.
Here's the next part, polished and upgraded with more drama, mystery, and sass—while still matching your tone and flow:
Mrs. Siren leaned in, ready to strike again. "Then answer, what's the—"
The classroom door creaked open mid-sentence, cutting through the tension like a plot twist.
All eyes turned.
A tall figure stepped in slowly, shadow stretching across the tiles. Hoodie pulled low, mask covering half his face, and a dark cap underneath—it was giving lowkey serial killer meets runway model. A weird mix of don't look at me and look at me more.
Yuna's breath hitched.
No fucking way.
Her heart did a literal backflip.
That was the guy.
The one who randomly gave her a piece of candy at the cafeteria two days ago and disappeared before she could even thank—or roast—him. She'd been weirdly haunted by that moment ever since, lowkey stalking the cafeteria, highkey pretending she wasn't.
Now, he was here. Standing in her classroom. Looking like a dark fairytale.
His eyes peeked out beneath the hood—icy blue, ocean-deep, and terrifyingly beautiful. The kind of eyes that made you think of trouble, late-night secrets, and stolen glances across a crowded hallway.
Mrs. Siren froze mid-glare, blinking as if her brain had to reboot for a second.
Then she pointed at him like she'd just caught a ghost.
"Aish, jinja—it's you?!"
She laughed awkwardly. "God, sorry. For a second, I thought you were one of those creepy magician-illusionist-clown-type people who sell poison candies in horror movies. I mean… look at you! You've got like, six names and none of them good."
The class cracked up. Even the mysterious boy smirked under his mask.
Yuna?
She was frozen in place, mouth slightly open, wondering if this was fate, hallucination, or a fever dream sent from the gods of chaos.