Nazma's head turned toward the window.
There was only a wooden frame where Jerem and the twins had been before. Now?
Where?
Where were they?
Now
Mrs. Nurul's heavy footsteps took over the entire classroom's attention.
Her stout figure moved slowly, occupying the space along the entrance.
Her strides were so wide that the fabric of her skirt swept every wooden corner she passed.
Her shoulder carried a large, dark brown leather bag. The bag's strap strained.
The thumping of the teacher's block-heeled pumps struck the floor. The sound boomed.
A stack of folders was placed on the desk.
Nazma's shoulders slumped.
Mrs. Nurul sat, locking her stout frame into position at the front of the class. The teacher's desk faced Nazma's desk directly.
As Mrs. Nurul settled in front, Nazma seemed to withdraw from the classroom's clamor.
Nazma opened the science book before her. Her head bowed slowly. Strands of her blonde hair slid straight down, framing her jawline perfectly.
Behind that curtain of blonde hair, she began to immerse herself. Letting her focus be fully absorbed into the lines of the material.
The hair hung stiffly by her cheeks and was neatly combed. Though it fell to frame her face, the strands were not wide enough to block Zemiro's view.
Zemiro sat two rows to the right.
From his position, the sunlight from the window fell at an angle, highlighting the curve of the girl's forehead until it appeared radiant.
The light clarified every inch of Nazma's skin in Zemiro's eyes.
The tension that had previously locked the corners of Nazma's lips now dissolved, replaced by a straight and clear sparkle in her eyes.
Zemiro followed the direction of that gaze.
Nazma's focus was fixed on one point.
Mrs. Nurul.
Nazma positioned her seat to align with Mrs. Nurul's presence. She let her body lean against the back of the chair, while her chin rose steadily toward the book.
That upright position now felt so light, as if the burden that had previously pressed on her shoulders had slumped completely to the floor.
A sliver of memory passed through Zemiro's mind. Her fingers, which had turned white from gripping the edge of the table, now loosened, falling limp onto the cover of the wide-open science book.
A long breath flowed slowly, letting her chest rise and fall in a free rhythm. She began to scan the rows of text. Her gaze settled there, ignoring every distraction around her.
While waiting for the lesson to begin, Zemiro watched her in silence; recording how that enthusiasm changed Nazma's facial expression to become more alive. The spirit radiating from there drew his attention far more than anything else in his surroundings.
Nazma felt an odd sensation in her ear, a subtle vibration. As if there were a pair of eyes that? That were—whatever.
She let the sensation pass just like that.
Her attention was much more fixed on Mrs. Nurul's every move. She drowned in admiration for the figure at the front of the class, letting the world around her blur slowly.
Exactly two rows to the right, Zemiro was instead performing a much deeper scan. The science book in front of him was ignored. His gaze was locked on one point: the small crease at the corner of Nazma's eye that appeared while the girl seemed to be waiting for Mrs. Nurul.
Zemiro recorded everything meticulously. He was like a thief finding treasure in the middle of a crowd. A thin smile curved on his lips—a rare expression capable of making anyone blush instantly. Unfortunately, it was hidden by his blue mask.
Mrs. Nurul leaned back, letting her fingers dance over the stack of assignment papers.
One by one, the students stepped forward in turn; Jihan, Esa, Milan, Nazma, Zemiro, until Leofrant returned to their seats.
Silence gripped the class as the teacher began to examine every sheet of work thoroughly.
Mrs. Nurul's eyebrows knitted, creating a frown on her forehead as she threw a sharp question at Esa.
Milan, Celline, and Leofrant also took their turns to re-explain the contents of their doubtful assignments.
When it came to Nazma's assignment, the classroom atmosphere suddenly turned into a stunning presentation session.
Nazma explained how to calculate with vernier calipers and micrometer screws with very well-ordered diction.
The explanation flowed calmly, proving her understanding was above that of the other students.
Mrs. Nurul nodded in satisfaction, giving open praise she rarely gave to anyone.
She ordered the entire class to learn directly from Nazma until they truly understood.
At the corner of the row, Zemiro remained still in a relaxed posture.
Nazma's malfunction had officially entered the list of anomalies he had to solve. To him, Mrs. Nurul was merely a secondary input now. His primary focus remained on the unit before him, the one struggling hard to hide behind a stack of science materials.