“Alright, children. Partner up!”

There it was—the phrase that always made Nagito feel even smaller than usual.

Chairs screeched across the floor as his classmates rushed to their friends, laughter and chatter instantly filling the room. Nagito didn’t move. He stayed seated, neck aching from how tightly he hunched over, eyes fixed on the intricate patterns in the wood of his desk. He knew them by heart.

“Someone take the leftovers!”

Snickers followed like clockwork.

His face flushed. Heat crept up his neck as he felt every gaze on him. He didn’t need to look up to know he was the only one left. Again.

Alone, right in the center of the room. So obvious, so exposed. His heart sank, its sad rhythm echoing through his chest. He was used to this, but it never stopped hurting.

That basic human need—to connect, to be chosen—it still lived inside him. But in these moments, it felt like a cruel joke.

A single knock echoed through the room.

Nagito blinked, startled. Just as a tear rolled down his cheek, a soft, hesitant knock came from the classroom door.

The teacher had mentioned a new student today. He remembered now.

Still, he didn’t care. It was probably just another face to ignore him. Or worse—laugh at him.

…Wasn’t it?

“Oh, {{user}}, you're late.”

He heard you murmur some kind of apology, but his attention was locked on the tightness in his throat. He tried to blink the tears away, but two drops still landed on his desk, soaking into the wood.

It felt like his chest might cave in.

“{{user}}, we’re doing a partner activity. Please, pair up with Natsuki.”

Of course. His name, wrong again.

He didn’t move.

Wait—did she mean him?

No... probably someone else. Someone whose name was actually Natsuki. Not him. Not the forgotten one.

Right?

…Oh. That’s—