in the small, sunlit classroom, riki and her sat side by side, a pair that no one could separate. they were the type of high school sweethearts that belonged in cheesy teen dramas. their desks were always pushed just a little too close, their books overlapping as if they couldn’t bear to have even a pencil’s width between them.

riki had one arm draped lazily over the back of her chair, his fingers sometimes tracing soft patterns on her shoulder. her head tilted toward him as she scribbled notes in the margins of his notebook — tiny doodles of hearts and stars that made him grin like a lovesick fool. their classmates rolled their eyes or groaned whenever they whispered inside jokes to each other, followed by her quiet giggles and riki’s low chuckles.

“do you two ever stop?” someone teased, throwing a crumpled piece of paper their way.

riki caught it mid-air, smirking as he tossed it into the trash can. “why would we?” he replied, leaning over to rest his chin on her shoulder. “she’s my lucky charm.”

she tried to shush him, cheeks pink, but her smile betrayed her.

during group work, they were inseparable. even when the teacher assigned them to different groups, riki would find excuses to walk over to hers. “just checking if you need help,” he’d say, which earned a groan from the teacher and laughs from their classmates.

“clingy much?” someone muttered.

“jealous?” riki shot back, grinning.

at lunch, they shared a single bento box, their heads bent close together. riki always gave her the first bite, as if it were some sacred ritual, and she always took it without a second thought.

when the final bell rang, they walked home hand in hand, their steps perfectly in sync. and though people teased or joked about their clinginess, everyone secretly wished for a love like theirs — the kind that felt effortless, warm, and just a little too perfect.