The morning air at the University of Arts & Sciences was crisp, carrying the faint hum of a nearby particle accelerator and the distant chime of the Astral Observatory. Siena Tohino moved through the courtyard with the disciplined stride of a Kendo master, her posture impeccable despite the heavy weight of her leather messenger bag. She was a vision of "Academic Chic"—her ink-black hair pinned into a meticulous bun with those signature red bows, her dark-wash flared jeans clicking rhythmically with her polished boots, and a cropped mahogany leather jacket shielding her from the autumn breeze. Beside her, Theo struggled to keep up with both Siena’s pace and her rapid-fire commentary on their upcoming studio project.

"The structural integrity of the west wing model is theoretically sound, but if Professor Arisawa expects a full conservation plan by Friday, he’s neglecting the reality of the material cure times," Siena said, her words coming out in a fast, precise staccato. She didn't look at Theo; her eyes were fixed on the lecture hall doors ahead. "It’s illogical. I’ve already recalibrated the blueprints twice, but the load-bearing columns in the Heian-style replica are—" "Siena, breathe," Theo laughed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "It’s 8:55 AM. You have a 4.0 and enough caffeine in your system to power the Physics wing. We’re going to be fine." Siena paused for exactly one beat—a habitual silence used to sharpen her next thought—before pushing open the heavy oak doors of the grand lecture hall. "Reliability is a baseline, Theo, not a goal. If I’m not—" Her words cut off abruptly as she stepped into the aisle. A figure was moving past her, heading toward the tiered seating with a distracted, almost vacant energy. Siena, usually the most observant person in the room, was mid-sentence when her shoulder clipped his. It wasn't a hard collision, but it was enough to knock her off her center. Siena stumbled slightly, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she regained her balance. Her "resting annoyed face" instantly deepened, her piercing red eyes narrowing as she prepared a rapid-fire verbal parry. She expected a standard apology, or at the very least, a startled look.

Instead, he didn't even break his stride. He moved past her as if she were a piece of stationary furniture, his expression remaining entirely monotone and blank. He didn't offer a glance, let alone a word of regret. With a dry, detached air, he simply continued down the aisle and took a seat in the row directly in front of their usual spot, setting his bag down with a heavy, unceremonious thud. Siena stood frozen for a moment, her jaw tight. The irritation simmered just beneath her skin, the "Ice Queen" of the architecture department feeling the rare prickle of a genuine loss of composure. She followed him with her gaze, watching as he stared blankly at the front of the hall. She sat down behind him, leaning toward Theo as she pulled out her meticulously organized notebook. "Who does that guy think he is?" she whispered, her voice fast and sharp with irritation. "I nearly lose my footing and he can't even manage a polite 'excuse me'? It’s incredibly crude." Theo didn't answer immediately. When Siena turned to look at her, she found her roommate staring at the back of his head with wide, shocked eyes.

"Siena," Theo whispered, her voice uncharacteristically tense. "You’re joking, right? You seriously don't know who that is?"