I was settled in my usual seat by the window, my bag neatly tucked beside my chair, but my focus wasn't on the textbook. It was on the low, thrumming din of the classroom. I had never heard our class this loud before.
"No way, did you see him outside?"
"They said he's insanely handsome, is it true?"
"I heard he was in a special training school."
I glanced at the clock. Twenty agonizing minutes until the homeroom bell. Twenty minutes for the rumors to reach a fever pitch, and I wasn't even sure if the classroom would truly calm down then.
I quickly scanned the immediate area around me, looking for any sign of a vacant chair. Every seat was already claimed, marked by other student's school bags or already seated.
I glanced around; my eyes finally met the single empty desk. It was on the opposite side of the room, far across the main aisle. I let out a silent, internal sigh of defeat. My chest tightened with a familiar, miserable ache as the realization hit me: Of course. The universe, forever committed to separating us.
I just got him back. You can't put him over there!
The whispers eventually turned into focused stares, and then, a small group of girls, led by the usually timid Rina, finally gathered the courage to approach me.
"Hanamura-san? Is it really true about the new transfer student, Kuroda-kun, being assigned to our class?" a girl named Saki asked, her voice a mix of awe and journalistic curiosity.
"I heard a rumor that someone saw you walking to school with a boy this morning," another added, her eyes wide. "Was that... was that him?"
The questions fell like an avalanche: Is he handsome? What kind of club is he joining? Is he really a genius?
"Is he... single?" another girl, bolder than Rina, cut in, her eyes wide with a blatant, hopeful curiosity.
I looked at the group, my expression giving away nothing, but the familiar ice of the Silent Princess was gone. In its place was a sharp, possessive confidence. The question about his availability made me want to laugh.
"The new student is Jun Kuroda," I stated, my voice low but carrying an undeniable weight of authority. "And no, he isn't single. We're engaged."
Just as the pressure became unbearable, the blessed, piercing sound of the bell screamed through the halls, slicing the interrogation in half.
The girls scurried back to their seats, but the noise didn't vanish—it merely compressed into a nervous, high-pitched hum. I took a deep, steadying breath, my eyes locked on the door.
The homeroom teacher, Mr. Tanaka, opened the door, a stack of papers tucked under his arm. "Alright, settle down, everyone. As you know, we have a new addition to Class 2-A starting today—"
My heart launched itself against my ribs. It was a bizarre, intense sensation, as if the roles were reversed from a wedding. I felt like the bride standing at the altar, waiting, utterly exposed, for the entrance of the groom. The entire class was holding its breath, but I was the only one who truly understood the gravity of the person about to walk through that door.
Then, he stepped in.
Tall. Insanely handsome, even if he was currently wearing that ridiculous, faded black tracksuit that looked like it belonged to a middle-aged marathon runner. It was my Jun, the body that belonged to me, finally returned to my reality.
He paused for a beat, his eyes sweeping across the room. The moment they locked onto mine, a familiar, mischievous smirk broke across his lips—that playful certainty that he always knew exactly what I was thinking.
The entire classroom erupted, not with noise, but with a collective, sharp gasp—a sound of stunned, absolute confirmation. A few girls couldn't contain it and let out tiny, strangled shrieks of disbelief and awe.
Calm down, all of you, I thought fiercely, pulling my gaze away to hide the sudden, hot flush in my cheeks. He's already taken!
Jun stepped forward, stopping at the front of the podium. He performed a short, perfectly polite bow, then straightened up.
"I'm Kuroda Jun," he announced, his voice deeper and steadier than I remembered. He paused, his eyes twinkling. "I know I look impressive in this outfit, but I'm not actually the new P.E. teacher."
The surprise joke attack hit me before I could filter it. A involuntary giggle escaped my mouth—a real, unguarded sound I hadn't made in two years. Everyone's head snapped toward me. I immediately flushed, covering my mouth with my hand, but it was too late. I looked at Jun, and the stupid, cute grin he gave me confirmed his success. He hadn't just gotten a laugh; he had gotten me.
"Alright, Kuroda-kun," the teacher said, ignoring the chaos. "You can take the empty seat on the back."
My heart sank with a painful thump. The opposite side. Just as I feared. The brief, perfect moment of happiness was already being replaced by the dull ache of distance. You promised you wouldn't leave me alone...
Jun simply nodded to the teacher and walked toward the back of the room, heading for his designated desk. He was quiet, his steps measured.
But he didn't sit down.
Instead, he gripped the edges of the desk. With a smooth, casual motion that showed his underlying athletic strength, he lifted the whole desk off the floor.
The bewildered silence in the room returned, thicker and deeper than before. Jun didn't acknowledge the gaping students. He turned, desk in hand, and began to walk slowly and carefully down the row, past the third and second lines of stunned faces.
He was focused on my direction, but not quite me. His eyes locked onto the boy seated immediately to my right, a harmless-looking classmate I didn't even know the name of—looked like a deer caught in headlights. He froze for two seconds, then, as if receiving a silent, impossible command, he began to panic, fumbling to lift his own desk.
Jun gave the now-flustered boy a slow, gracious nod and a small smile. He placed desk directly next to mine, sliding it into the now-vacant space. He then picked up the boy's remaining school bag and walked over to the spot where he was supposed to sit.
"Thank you," Jun said in a low, friendly tone, handing the boy his bag.
The boy, utterly bewildered but suddenly feeling favored by the school's new legend, could only nod mutely in reply.
The entire exchange—the perfect, silent claim—had happened without a single excessive word. The class, including the teacher, was paralyzed. The chaos of gossip had been replaced by the sublime silence of awe.
Jun returned to his newly claimed seat, sat down, and instantly turned to face me, his cheek resting on his palm, his mischievous smirk full and undeniable.
"Perfect," he whispered, just for me.
Before I could think, my hand shot out. I pinched both of his soft, cold cheeks hard, pulling his face toward mine.
"Baka," I breathed out the word, thick with emotion. You never let me be alone, do you?
A soft, brilliant smile finally broke across my lips, hidden from the rest of the class by the proximity of our heads.
Thank you.