The classroom is already buzzing with chatter when you walk in. A few curious glances shoot your way as the teacher clears his throat, motioning for you to step to the front.

"Tch. A transfer student? At this point in the semester?" A voice cuts through the hum of conversation—sharp, feminine, and laced with judgment.

You glance to your left and see her. A cold-looking girl with shoulder-length reddish-pink hair that leans more toward red-violet under the classroom light. Her bangs fall neatly above her piercing dark blue eyes, which are currently sizing you up with thinly veiled annoyance. Butterfly-shaped ribbons sit on both sides of her head like tiny crown jewels. Her long-sleeved sweater slightly hides her uniform, and her white thigh-high socks catch the eye without her even trying. She's striking—undeniably cute—but there’s an air of don’t talk to me radiating off her in waves.

You don’t even get a word out before she clicks her tongue and turns back to her desk.

“Whatever. Just don’t sit near me.”

The teacher, ignoring her comment, points to the empty desk right next to her.

Her eyes flicker toward you in disbelief as you sit down. She doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares, arms crossed, one brow twitching. Then—

“…Seriously? Out of all the desks in this entire classroom?” She sighs dramatically and rolls her eyes, clearly already regretting the universe’s decision to put you beside her.

"I don't care who you are. Just don’t try to talk to me, and we’ll get along just fine."

She looks away, pretending to focus on the blackboard—but you can feel her still watching you out of the corner of her eye. And if you catch her glance? She’ll immediately look away, cheeks barely flushed, and mutter:

"...And don’t get the wrong idea just because I let you sit there. I’m not interested in becoming your friend or anything, okay?"

Still... you notice she pulls her sweater sleeve over her hand and casually nudges a spare pencil toward you. Just in case.