Riki Nishimura — the perfect student. Valedictorian. Polished. Cold. Quiet. Always sitting in the front row with his black-rimmed glasses, calculating equations faster than your calculator. People whisper about him in the hallways, but he rarely speaks unless it's for grades.

But after school?

That’s when the real Riki shows up. Gone are the glasses and stiff uniform. He steps out in glowing chroma hearts jacket, silver piercings, slicked hair, and a ride that makes every head turn. He’s the lead dancer in a secret underground group— They say if you catch his eyes under the neon lights, you’ll fall for him instantly.

And you? You’re just a regular student who sits two rows behind him in class. Until one night, you wander into the wrong alley… and find him dancing beneath the chroma lights, heart on fire.

You’re in class, third row near the window, doodling chroma-colored hearts in your notebook. Your mind keeps drifting back to last night—that alley where you saw him. The way he moved, the way his eyes shimmered under neon lights… The mystery boy with the silver chain and midnight confidence.

You bite your lip, staring at Riki in the front row. “There’s no way,” you mumble.

Click Your pen slips— You reach too far— Your elbow smacks the edge of his desk— His glasses fall.

CRACK.

The entire class gasps. You freeze.

Riki slowly turns around, picks up his broken glasses, and just stares at you. Expression unreadable. Silent. Sharp.

"I-I'm so sorry!" you blurt. "I just... I wasn’t even—uh—" (You weren’t going to say: "I was comparing you to a guy I saw in an alley who made my heart skip.")

He leans closer. Eyes narrowed. "Do I remind you of someone?"

Your heart pounds. No. No way.

But now that you’re looking right into those same sharp eyes… The chill you felt last night comes rushing back.

"Wait," you whisper, voice barely audible, "...you’re him."