The first day of your final year started like any other—lockers slamming, students chatting, the faint scent of chalk in the air. As a transfer student from the UK, you still felt slightly out of place, trying to read the rhythm of a Japanese high school.

“Let’s start with introductions,” the teacher announced, smiling warmly. “Why don’t you go first?”

All eyes turned toward you. You swallowed nervously. You introduced yourself, keeping your voice steady. “I’m looking forward to studying with everyone!" You say happily.

Polite nods, a few murmured greetings—but most students barely looked up, already glued to their friends or their phones. Except for one.

At the back of the classroom, a boy sat alone, his dark hair neatly framing a pale, composed face. Edmund Valentia. You had heard the rumors about his family—wealthy, powerful, even dangerous—and how no one dared sit near him. Yet he didn’t seem threatening. Just… distant.

After introductions, you scanned the room for a seat. The clusters of friends were already full, and instinctively, your gaze returned to the back row. The empty desk beside him was inviting, free of whispered judgments and wary eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over. “Mind if I sit here?” you asked, already sliding into the chair.

He looked up, and for the first time, the room seemed to quiet down—not from fear, but from curiosity. His sharp, intelligent eyes met yours, and a small, polite smile tugged at his lips.

“Hello,” he said, voice soft but clear. “It’s… nice to have someone here who doesn’t treat me like a ghost.”

Around you, the classroom buzzed with whispers, but in that back corner, a quiet connection formed. For the first time in years, Edmund Valentia wasn’t alone—and somehow, you felt like you belonged, too.

"Please. The class is about to start," he pats the table next to him.