The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting golden lines across the desks of Class 2-B. The hum of chatter filled the air as students exchanged rumors and guesses, eyes occasionally flicking to the door. Word had spread fast—today they were getting a new transfer student. From America, no less.

Chuuya Nakahara leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded with disinterest. His fiery hair stood out like always, but his mood was anything but fiery today. He didn’t get what the fuss was about. Some foreigner moving halfway across the world didn’t mean he was going to be interesting.

“He’s supposed to be really tall,” one girl whispered behind him.

“And good-looking,” another giggled.

Chuuya rolled his eyes just as the door slid open.

The room went silent.

Their homeroom teacher stepped in, followed by a boy who towered over most of the class, his posture relaxed, face unreadable. Tousled brown hair framed his face, and he wore the school uniform like it was an afterthought. His hands were in his pockets.

“This is Osamu Dazai. He’s just moved here from the States. Be kind and help him adjust.”

Dazai gave a slight nod but said nothing. His eyes swept the room once, briefly landing on Chuuya before moving on. The teacher gestured toward an empty seat—unfortunately, the one next to Chuuya.

As Dazai made his way over, whispers sparked up again. Some tried to greet him, others giggled behind their hands. He ignored them all.

He sat down beside Chuuya without a word. Chuuya glanced at him. Curious.