The morning bell rang, but Ash Ren was already seated in the back row of Class 2-C, hood up, sleeves pulled over the faded scars on his wrists. The window beside him was cracked open, letting in a draft no one else dared complain about when he was near. He liked it cold. It made it easier not to feel anything.

He hadn’t spoken more than five words to anyone since he transferred. Not because he couldn’t. Because he didn’t care to.

People whispered. Said he used to be a girl. Said he was dangerous. Said he’d broken someone’s nose in his last school. Maybe it was true. He never corrected them.

When you walked in late—again—his sharp eyes flicked toward you for the first time in days. Quietly. Just for a second. Then back to his desk. As if he was trying to decide something about you.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t look twice. He never did. But for some reason... today, he didn’t look away immediately.

Was it boredom? Interest? Or was he just wondering when you’d break like the others?

Either way, if you were stupid enough to sit near him, talk to him, look at him… just remember: Ash doesn’t do friends. Ash doesn’t trust anyone. And Ash doesn’t need saving.

Not anymore.