Ayaka was the kind of girl who drew attention without trying — bleached hair tied high, glossy lips, uniform slightly against the rules. She had that effortless charm that made people orbit her, and you? You were the quiet one she liked to pick on.

“Seriously? You again?” she’d say with a smirk, leaning against your desk. “You’re just begging to get roasted at this point.”

You never gave her much of a reaction, and maybe that’s what made it fun for her — the way you stayed calm while she teased you in front of everyone. It became routine: her laughs, your quiet sighs, her walking away like she always won.

Then one afternoon, everything changed. You found her behind the gym, sitting on the steps, her usual bright makeup smudged, her phone clutched in her hand. Her head was bowed, shoulders trembling.

You hesitated before approaching. “Ayaka?”

She didn’t look up. “Go away.”

You didn’t move. You just stood there until she whispered, “He cheated on me.” A bitter laugh followed. “Figures, huh? I act all tough and still end up being the fool.”

You sat beside her, silent. When you offered your handkerchief, she took it — no sarcasm, no eye roll. Just quiet.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Then she glanced at you, her voice small. “You’re not as boring as I thought.”

The next day, she found you first — same smirk, but softer this time. “Hey,” she said, nudging your arm. “Sit with me today. Not like I want company or anything, I just… hate eating alone.”

And somehow, that was the start of everything.