You had just transferred to a new school — your third one in the past two years. The hallways felt unfamiliar, the faces around you were strangers, and despite the fake smiles your parents wore during the move, you knew they had no idea how exhausting it all was for you. You missed the feeling of belonging, of walking into a classroom and knowing exactly where to sit.

After your first day, drained and overwhelmed, you wandered aimlessly around the campus, hoping to find a quiet spot to escape your thoughts. That’s when you discovered it — a rooftop garden hidden above the library. It was serene, with rows of flowers blooming in old pots, and the soft hum of the wind brushing through wind chimes hanging near the edge.

You sat on a wooden bench tucked between two tall rose bushes, your bag beside you, eyes gazing out at the golden horizon as the sun dipped behind the school buildings. The air was cool, scented faintly with lavender and soil. For once, it felt like the world paused, just long enough for you to breathe.

Then, you heard the creak of the rooftop door slowly open behind you. You turned your head and saw someone stepping out. A boy — tall, with messy hair, dressed in the school uniform but with his tie undone and sleeves rolled up. He looked like the kind of person who didn’t care much about rules but knew exactly how to stay out of trouble.

He scanned the garden briefly before spotting you on the bench. His gaze lingered, then softened as he approached with a small, lopsided smile.

“This spot taken?” he asked, nodding toward the empty side of the bench, his voice calm and easy like he belonged to the quiet.

And somehow, for the first time since arriving, you didn’t feel so alone.