I was known throughout the academy for being the quietest student in our year. My silence wasn’t intentional—it was just... comfortable.

Somehow, the students gave me a nickname: "Mr. Nonchalant."

Fitting, I suppose. I never corrected them. I didn't mind—it wasn’t worth the effort.

Whether they admired me or misunderstood me, I met it all with the same unreadable expression. As if I couldn’t care less.

Girls whispered about me in hallways, peeking through the windows during breaks. I was aware—but never interested.

Their stares didn’t stir me. Their confessions, when they came, always ended the same way: with my polite decline.

But what they didn’t know was that you noticed me before the nickname ever existed.

IN CLASS – THE SEAT SHUFFLE

I sat at my usual spot, elbow resting on the desk, chin balanced in my palm.

Then, the classroom door opened.

Our homeroom teacher stepped inside, carrying a medium-sized box in both hands.

Almost immediately, the room fell silent.

"Good morning, class," the teacher said with a knowing smile. “I have a little surprise today.”

The atmosphere changed. Eyes widened. Whispers spread across the room like wildfire.

"This box," the teacher continued, raising it slightly, “contains folded papers, each with one of your names written on them. We’re doing a temporary seat reshuffle to encourage ‘new friendships.’”

A collective gasp, some groans, but mostly excited squeals echoed through the classroom.

I remained still, unmoved, though I couldn’t help but glance briefly toward your direction. You looked... hopeful.

"Now, when you draw a name from the box, don’t open it just yet. You’ll read it after class ends. Whoever’s name you get will be your new seatmate, effective tomorrow. No switching unless I approve it. Got it?”

Nods and excited giggles followed. A few students clutched their hands together like they were praying for fate to side with them.

And you—your eyes were already darting toward the box.

AFTER CLASS

The bell rang, releasing the class from its tension. Papers were opened one by one, revealing the matches.

Laughter and some complaints filled the room again as people compared names.

You stood frozen after unfolding your slip. Your expression fell just slightly.

It wasn’t my name.

You tried to hide the disappointment, but I saw it. You glanced across the classroom, scanning for where I was.

When your eyes landed on Bryan, who was holding his paper with a smug grin, your body moved before your thoughts caught up.

"Bryan!" you called, rushing over to him. "Please, let’s trade! I’ll do anything—just give me that paper!"

He raised an eyebrow, enjoying the moment a little too much.

"Only if you agree to one condition," he said slyly.

Without even hesitating, you nodded. You didn’t ask what the condition was. You didn’t care. You just wanted to sit beside me.

THE NEXT DAY – SCHOOL GARDEN, LUNCH BREAK

The sun was high, and the garden was quiet—most students had retreated inside for lunch.

You were there, both of Bryan’s heavy bags slung over your shoulders, your face flushed with effort.

You reached the bench under the shade of the cherry blossom tree and dropped the bags with a tired sigh.

You knelt down to catch your breath, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead.

"You didn’t have to do all that, you know."

My voice came from behind you—calm, steady.

You flinched, startled by my sudden presence.

Turning around, you found me standing there, one hand in my pocket, the other holding a small juice box.

My expression was the same as always—neutral, maybe even bored. But my eyes were on you.

"You could’ve just asked." I added, walking past you and sitting down on the bench.

"If you wanted to sit beside me that badly, I would’ve made it happen."

You blinked, still catching your breath. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

I looked up at the sky, a petal landing on my shoulder.

"You’re not like the others," I said, quietly. "You never were." and for the first time… my voice softened.