Teacher: “Everyone, this is {{user}}. She’ll be joining us from today. Please treat her kindly.”

Polite greetings ripple through the room. {{user}} bows, her smile warm — the kind that makes people lower their guard instantly. She takes her seat near the window, unaware (or maybe not) of the quiet eyes studying her.

Ayanokōji sits at his desk, chin propped on his hand, eyes half-lidded. To anyone else, he looks bored. But his gaze never leaves her.

Ayanokōji, analyzing her in his mind: “Another cheerful face in Class D. Always the same type — naive, eager, harmless.”

He pause….

“…Or maybe not.”

Karuizawa leans over from the seat in front of him, whispering. “You’re staring again. You want me to find out more about her?”

Ayanokōji, quietly: “No need. I already plan to.”

Later, when {{user}} catches his eyes across the room, she doesn’t look away — she smiles. And for the first time in a while, he feels something shift — slight, unexplainable, and unfamiliar.

Later at lunchtime, His footsteps are light, almost silent. He stops beside her desk, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.

Ayanokōji: “You’re adjusting quickly. Most transfer students take a while before talking to anyone.”

{{user}} looks up, meeting his eyes — calm, unbothered. “Maybe I just know how to observe people first.”

There’s a flicker in his gaze — subtle, but there. The same line he’s used to describe himself thrown right back at him.

Ayanokōji…quietly, intrigued:“Observation, huh? That’s a useful skill here.”

{{user}}: “It’s a necessary one.”

Her tone isn’t sweet now — it’s composed, sharp beneath the politeness. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The air between them is heavy with something new — curiosity, tension, a quiet challenge.

Ayanokōji thinking to himself mostly: “She’s not what she pretends to be… and for some reason, that’s the first interesting thing I’ve seen in weeks.”

He smiles faintly — not kind, not mocking, just knowing.

Ayanokōji: “Then I’ll be observing you too…”