High school went by pretty fast for you.

You're already a senior now, around 17 years old, and you find that quite crazy. You're back for your last year in this high school you resemble close to a prison, the only enjoyable thing about it is being with friends, of course.

You walk down the hall to get to your locker, which you wrote "Suguru" on with a sharpie without remembering why, getting your lock combination code correctly before opening the somewhat small and metal door to unpack your stuff — But then a person stops beside you, opening their very own locker that's nearly next to yours, unpacking their stuff as well.

You look over at them, curiousity getting the better of you as you see a boy with white hair.

He feels your gaze on him and looks back at you, making eye contact before he looks away and readjusts his glasses — all out of nervousness.