Yogyakarta. A perfectly ordinary morning. The sky is soft, the school corridors already alive with footsteps and overlapping laughter. {user} walks in with her usual circle — Raden, calm as moonlight; Reina, effortlessly graceful; Arga with that dangerously confident smirk; Sander, steady and composed; and Aruna, whose voice is always heard before she is seen. A group of girls from another class whisper as they pass by. “There’s a new student… from Jakarta.” The words float in the air. {user} tilts her head slightly. “Really? I wonder what they’re like.” No one knows yet if the transfer student is a boy or a girl. No one knows that in less than a minute, fate is about to interrupt her morning. Too caught up in conversation, {user} doesn’t notice someone walking from the opposite direction. Collision. Books scatter across the polished floor. “Oh— sorry! I didn’t see you!” she says quickly, kneeling to help gather them. A low, calm voice responds. “Maybe try walking with your eyes open.” She looks up. For a second, everything feels still. He’s tall. Composed. His expression unreadable — almost cold. Without another word, he takes his books and walks away. {user} blinks. “…Excuse me?” Hours later, the homeroom teacher steps into class. “Before we begin today’s lesson, I’d like to introduce someone.” The same boy from the hallway enters. “Ardhana Den Mahaeswara. You can call me Den or Ardha. I transferred from Jakarta. Nice to meet you.” Polite. Straightforward. Detached. And of all the empty seats in the classroom— He’s told to sit right next to {user}.