April adjusted the straps of her bag as she walked through Westgate's highschool gates, already regretting this whole situation.
Flicking her now dull orange colored hair backwards.
She made her way through the halls, her footsteps steady, her senses sharp. Even though she couldn't see or hear in the traditional sense, her Gear had long since made up for it.
She could feel the vibrations of the world around her, the air shifting, the movement of people—it was enough.
She walked past groups of students whispering about her.
"So that's the blind transfer girl, right?"
"Yeah, I heard a rumor saying that even though she's blind, she somehow always knows when someone's talking about her. That's kinda creepy."
"For some reason i feel like I've seen her somewhere before. Don't you also feel it?"
"Now that you said it, she does look familiar somehow."
April smirked as she knew that their plan was working
Flashback:
The HQ hummed quietly with machinery and the faint glow of holographic screens. Saya leaned over a cluttered workbench as April stood nearby, her hair tied loosely behind her.
"Alright," Saya began, tapping a metallic case. "Since people already know your face, we're going to shift their focus. Not hide you —just make them look at something else."
April tilted her head. "So… what's the plan?"
Saya opened the case, revealing a sleek, circular earring-like device that shimmered faintly in the dim light.
"This. It's part of a new tech line we're developing for event showcases. You wear it like an earring, press the side, and think of a color. Your hair will change to match the thought. Simple."
April's eyebrows furrowed, unimpressed at first, then reached for it.
"Hair-changing tech? That's a thing now?"
Saya smirked. "It is when you have me."
April placed the earring on, pressing it gently. She thought for a second—then, for no clear reason, the color orange came to mind. A dark, bold tone.
The device glowed softly, and in moments, her dark hair shifted into a dull orange.
Saya whistled. "Not bad. Definitely not forgettable."
April smiled faintly. "Guess it works."
"Now for the tricky part," Saya said, gesturing toward April's reflection in the glass wall—where her two-angelic wings were, easily being the most eye-catching part of her outfit.
"That thing," Saya said, "is going to draw attention."
April sighed. "Yeah… kinda hard to ignore two-angelic wings coming out from behind of my head."
"Then make it sound intentional," Saya replied.
"When people ask, tell them it's a custom-made headband projection. Say it's expensive, something you designed yourself. They'll stop questioning and start admiring."
April smirked. "So, basically, a stylish lie."
Saya grinned. "The best kind—believable."
Back to Present:
April walked down the hallway, her dull orange hair deflecting the mornings light. As she passed by, a curious girl slowed down, her eyes locking on the faint, two glowing angelic-winged sigil behind the back of April's head.
April hid her grin. Exactly as planned.
But then—
"April, right?"
A voice. Close. Directed at her.
She turned slightly, sensing a presence beside her. The person was a tall male, with broad-shoulders, he carried an air of confidence that was almost too casual.
Michelangelo
April heard of him. Everyone did.
Michelangelo was a strikingly handsome young man with dark green hair and smooth, clear skin. Standing around 170 centimeters tall, his broad shoulders and lean, defined frame gave the impression of someone who worked out regularly.
A black cap sat turned backward on his head, a few loose strands of green hair spilling from beneath it. He wore a pair of worn blue jeans, the knees slightly torn to reveal hints of his fair skin. His T-shirt—a simple white one emblazoned with New York City—hung comfortably over a long-sleeved, peach-colored turtle-neck that stretched up to his neck and down to his wrists, layering his look with effortless casual charm.
Despite the simplicity of his outfit, there was something magnetic about him—an easy confidence in the way he carried himself, like someone who didn't have to try to stand out, yet somehow always did.
He was one of the most popular guys in school—not the arrogant, over-the-top kind, but the effortlessly cool kind.
Always smiling, always friendly, and—if the rumors were true—insanely good at skateboarding.
April tilted her head. "Yeah?"
"Didn't think I'd see you here. You're kinda like a ghost."
April smirked. "I prefer 'low profile.'"
Michelangelo chuckled. "Fair enough. Do you mind if I walk with you?"
April shrugged. "Not stopping you."
He fell into step beside her, and just like that, the whispering around them exploded.
"Why is Michelangelo talking to her?"
"Seriously, what's so special about that new transfer?"
"I swear, she's faking it. There's no way she's actually blind."
"Don't you see her stitched eyelids?"
April could already sense the storm brewing.
And she was right.
Because across the hall, someone was watching.
Tessa Lane.
The school's queen bee, social royalty, and the girl who definitely didn't like April getting attention from Michelangelo.
Tessa's eyes narrowed as she watched them walk together.
April could feel the hostility radiating off of her.
'Great. Just what I needed.'
April could already tell this was going to be a problem.
Michelangelo wasn't just some random popular guy—he was de guy. The one everyone liked, the one who could walk into a room and have people gravitate toward him.
And now he was walking with her.
April felt the burning stares, the whispers turning into full-blown conversations behind her back.
"She has to be faking it."
"How does she always know when people are talking?"
"Michelangelo's just being nice… right?"
April mentally rolled her eyes. She'd dealt with worse.
Michelangelo, completely unfazed, shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, are you always this quiet, or am I just that boring?"
April smirked. "I don't do small talk."
"Good. Neither do I."
That actually caught her off guard.
Before she could respond, a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension.
"Oh Michelangelo—"
April could already guess who it belonged to.
Tessa Lane.
The queen of this place, the one who decided who was in and who was out.
Michelangelo sighed. "Here we go."
April didn't turn, but she could feel Tessa approaching—heels clicking against the floor, her presence heavy with manufactured confidence.
"Mickey," Tessa said, all fake warmth, "I was looking for you."
Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Were you?"
Tessa ignored the question and instead turned to April.
April didn't react, just waited.
Tessa tilted her head. "You are April, right?"
April finally turned toward her, her expression unreadable. "Yeah."
Tessa's lips curled into a smile, but there was no kindness in it.
"How interesting," she mused. "I hear that you're blind and can't hear, but it's so funny—" She leaned in slightly. "But you always know when people are talking about you."
April didn't flinch. She simply crossed her arms. "Maybe you're just loud."
A flicker of annoyance flashed across Tessa's face.
Michelangelo stifled a laugh. "Man, this is entertaining."
Tessa shot him a glare before returning her attention to April.
"You know," she said, voice laced with fake concern, "it must be so hard for you. Always having to act like you don't hear things you're not supposed to."
April smirked. "Oh, I don't have to act. I just don't care."
Tessa's expression faltered for a split second before she masked it with a laugh.
"Right. Well, I just think it's adorable that Michelangelo is taking pity on you."
Michelangelo's smile dropped. "Tessa—"
April cut him off.
"Pity?" She took a step forward, tilting her head slightly. "That's funny, because from where I'm standing, you're the one that looks desperate."
A sharp gasp echoed around them.
Tessa's face froze.
April didn't need to see it to know she had struck a nerve.
Michelangelo grinned. "Welp. That's my cue to go."
Tessa's voice was tight with barely restrained anger. "You—"
But April was already walking away.
She could feel Tessa's fury burning into her back.
The rival war had just begun.
April barely noticed the hallway shifting around her as she made her way to the administrative office.
----
A few moments later, a clipboard was thrust into her hands, and a cheerful administrator's voice rang out.
"Welcome to Westgate High! Your class assignment is Class A. Thirty-three students in total."
April's fingers traced the list quickly, scanning names without a flicker of hesitation. Her ears—or rather, her Gear—picked up familiar vibrations.
Her heart skipped just slightly when she detected two distinct pulses among the thirty-three: Michelangelo… and Tessa.
Perfect. Just perfect.
As she entered the classroom, a low murmur ran through the students. Heads turned, some whispering, some staring outright.
April's senses mapped the room instantly: thirty-three bodies, the subtle sway of someone nervously tapping their desk, the faint perfume of a student in the corner, the confident stride of a boy near the front—Michelangelo.
And in the far corner, barely hiding a scowl, Tessa's presence radiated like a flare, sharp and unmistakable.
April took a seat near the middle, letting the murmurs wash over her like a soft tide. She didn't need to see the stares; she could feel them.
Michelangelo, grinning as if nothing had happened, tossed her a wink from across the aisle. Tessa, on the other hand, sat rigid, her anger simmering beneath the surface.
The war lines had not just begun—they had been drawn.
—
Lunchtime.
April sat alone at the far end of the cafeteria, quietly eating her food. She didn't mind being alone—actually, she preferred it.
The only issue was that she could feel eyes on her.
Tessa wasn't done.
The queen bee had taken their earlier encounter personally.
April had embarrassed her in front of everyone, and Tessa wasn't the type to let things go.
April calmly took another bite of her food, waiting.
Then, she felt it.
A sudden movement behind her. A shift in the air. The subtle whoosh of something being thrown—
April's hand shot up.
She caught it.
The entire cafeteria fell into stunned silence.
In her grasp was a chunk of food—mashed potatoes, dripping with gravy, meant to splatter all over the back of her head.
April didn't react.
She didn't need to.
Because the real moment came when she casually flicked her wrist—
And launched the food right back.
Perfectly.
The mashed potatoes smacked Tessa dead center in the face.
A gasp rippled through the cafeteria.
Tessa froze.
The once-pristine queen bee now stood there, face covered in food, eyes wide with shock.
Silence.
Then—
Laughter erupted.
"Oh my god!"
"Did you see that?!"
"That was perfect!"
Even Michelangelo, sitting across the room, had to hold back a laugh.
April?
She just calmly wiped her hand with a napkin and went back to eating.
Tessa, still frozen, finally let out a furious shriek. "YOU—!"
April didn't even turn to her.
"You should really work on your aim," she said casually. "That was kinda pathetic."
More laughter.
Tessa stormed out of the cafeteria, humiliated.
April smirked.