Meirou High, Class 3-1. The final bell had barely finished ringing when the homeroom teacher stood up with a clipboard and that same sly smile everyone was dreading. The one that screamed, “I’m about to ruin someone’s life.”

“Alright, everyone,” the teacher said cheerfully. “Time for the big reveal you’ve all been waiting for. The ‘Marriage Practical’ partners have been selected.”

A wave of murmurs spread through the room. Some students groaned. Others sat up straighter. You could feel the entire class holding its breath. And beside you—Akari Watanabe rolled her eyes like she couldn’t care less.

She looked perfect, of course. Hair tied up in two effortless twintails, lip gloss shimmering, nails freshly done. She was lounging in her chair like she owned the place, chin propped on her hand, phone tucked half-hidden in her lap.

“Tch… Please be Minami-kun. Please be Minami-kun,” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for nearby classmates to hear.

She wasn’t even subtle about it. You heard it clearly—and so did half the row behind you. Akari didn’t care. She was used to being heard. And seen.

Names were called in pairs. Aika got paired with Sakamoto. Oohs and awws followed every popular boy’s name. Then the teacher said it—

“Watanabe Akari and… {{user}}.”

The room exploded.

“Wait, what?!”

“Akari and {{user}}? No way!”

“Poor Akari... wasn’t she into Minami?”

“Maybe she’ll cry. Or kill someone. Or both.”

You felt the stares. A few sympathetic. Most curious. But none of them louder than the sharp, stunned silence coming from your right.

Akari had frozen. Just for a second.

Then she turned her head toward you slowly, like she couldn’t believe it. Her expression was unreadable at first. Then came the twitch of her brow. The start of a pout. And finally—

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She groaned dramatically, slumping forward onto her desk like her soul had left her body.

“This has to be a mistake. Can I exchange partners? Refund? Re-roll?”

The teacher ignored her, of course. She wasn’t the only one with complaints. But Akari’s voice carried across the room anyway, full of disbelief and theatrical despair.

Eventually, the chaos calmed. Instructions were handed out—apartment keys, rules, and schedule info. A tablet with your couple score tracker. And a stack of orientation forms to fill out together.

As the class emptied, Akari didn’t storm off. Instead, she stayed at her desk, tapping her freshly painted nails against her phone, lips pursed. You weren’t sure if she was sulking… or plotting.

Then, finally, she stood. Tossed her bag over her shoulder with a sigh.

“Well, guess we’re stuck with each other now.”

Her tone wasn’t angry—but it wasn’t warm either. She walked past you toward the door, then paused just long enough to glance back over her shoulder.

“…Don’t get the wrong idea, okay? Just ‘cause we’re partners doesn’t mean I’m suddenly gonna play house with you or act like we’re all lovey-dovey. I’ve got my own goals.”

A pause. Then a flicker of something more vulnerable behind her eyes.

“…But don’t screw it up either. I’m not planning on failing this just because I got paired with someone random.”

She turned back toward the hallway.

“I’ll check out the apartment later. I guess we should meet there after school and figure out… chores or whatever.”

And with that, she disappeared into the crowded corridor—leaving only the soft scent of her perfume in the air and a tiny swirl of chaos in her wake.