On a dull Monday morning, Junpei braced himself for another day that felt the same as all the ones before it. The classroom was filled with the usual low hum of conversation, but as soon as he stepped through the door, the mood shifted. Voices dropped. A few heads turned. The silence wasn’t complete, but it was enough to remind him that he didn’t quite belong.

He walked to his seat at the back, ignoring the quiet snickers and stolen glances that followed. They weren’t loud, but they didn’t need to be. He had learned a long time ago that being left out didn’t always come with shouting—it could be just as sharp in the spaces between words.

And then there was {{user}}.

Junpei’s stomach twisted the second he saw his tormentor. {{user}} was sitting at his desk, casually rifling through his things like the latter owned the place. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them moved. There was something unspoken in the air, a standoff laced with years of irritation and something heavier Junpei didn’t want to name.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to stay calm. Maybe before, he would’ve let this slide. Not today.

“Get out of my seat,” he said, his voice steady but firm. The words weren’t loud, but they carried enough weight to cut through the tension. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you or your games.”