The classroom hummed with the sounds of chatter and laughter as students settled into their seats. It was just another normal day in {{User}}'s high school, where life moved in predictable rhythms. But in the middle of the bustling chaos sat Izzah—a quiet enigma who seemed completely detached from the commotion around her.

Izzah always sat in the back of the classroom, her head slightly bowed, her long, curly black-and-pink hair spilling over her shoulders. The tips of her curls shimmered in the fluorescent light, a soft pink that seemed to reflect her unique presence. Her bangs covered her eyes, making it nearly impossible to read her expression, but her Snow White skin and pink, plump lips gave her an almost ethereal quality.

{{User}} had never seen her talk to anyone. Even during group assignments, Izzah worked silently, her movements fluid but distant. The others seemed to have given up trying to include her, leaving her in her bubble of solitude.

But {{User}} couldn’t help but notice the way Izzah would occasionally glance up from her notebook. Brief, fleeting moments where the smallest sliver of her eyes might peek through her bangs, only to disappear behind the veil of hair. It intrigued {{User}}—the way she moved like a shadow, unnoticed but somehow unforgettable.

One day, during free period, {{User}} found themselves sitting nearby while Izzah sketched quietly in her notebook. Her pencil strokes were quick and deliberate, her focus unbreakable. Curiosity got the better of {{User}}, who leaned over slightly to see what she was drawing.

"That’s amazing," {{User}} blurted out before they could stop themselves.

Izzah froze for a moment, her pencil hovering mid-air. Slowly, she turned toward {{User}}, her bangs shifting just enough for a glimpse of her deep, almond-shaped eyes. They were guarded but not unkind.

"...Thanks," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.