School aisi kin shi
Zen Sonam didn't hate the world.
He just found it disappointing.
Everything in society was predictable. People followed the same routines, repeated the same conversations, and pretended their problems were unique when they were just variations of someone else's struggles.
School was the worst of all.
Teachers acted as if grades determined intelligence. Students acted as if popularity determined worth. Everyone was trapped in invisible rules they never questioned.
Zen had figured it out long ago.
So, he stopped caring.
He drifted through Evergreen Public School (EGPS) like a ghost—never too engaged, never too distant. He wasn't the smartest, nor the dullest. He didn't stand out in sports or clubs. He existed, and that was enough.
It was a routine. A carefully maintained balance that kept him invisible.
And then, there were people like Skki Dawa.
---
The Opposite of Him
If Zen was the shadow in the back of the classroom, Skki was the spotlight at the center of everything.
He had never spoken to her before, but he knew her name. Everyone did.
Skki Dawa wasn't just another student—she was an event.
When she walked into a room, people turned to look. When she laughed, the sound carried through the halls, like an untamed melody impossible to ignore.
She belonged here. Thrived here.
Zen found people like her exhausting.
It wasn't that he envied her. He just didn't understand how someone could live so comfortably within the system he had spent years analyzing and rejecting.
She was the kind of person who believed in things like "high school memories" and "once-in-a-lifetime experiences." The kind who saw school as more than just a temporary phase before the real world began.
Zen had seen her once at a school event—standing on stage, speaking to a crowd like she was meant to be there. Like this whole system mattered.
Zen never understood that kind of thinking.
And he never expected someone like her to notice someone like him.
---
First Contact: An Unintended Secret
Lunchtime.
Most students had left the classroom—some to the cafeteria, others to the courtyard. The room was quieter than usual, and Zen preferred it that way.
He leaned back in his chair, pulled out his phone, and put in his earphones.
One tap on the screen, and the world faded.
A slow, eerie piano melody filled his ears—the intro to Steins;Gate.
Zen liked this series. It wasn't some over-the-top battle anime like most people watched. It was psychological, methodical, thought-provoking. A story about time travel, choices, and consequences.
It was one of the few things that made him feel like reality wasn't such a dull, predictable mess.
He had barely gotten past the opening scene when—
Rustling.
Zen barely reacted at first. Someone was at the bookshelf near the back of the classroom, shifting books in an oddly hurried way. Too much movement. Too fast.
He wouldn't have cared. Except—
A familiar sound.
A very, very familiar sound.
A low instrumental build-up. The faint echo of chanting. The kind of music that sent shivers down spines.
Zen's body stiffened.
That was—
The Attack on Titan opening.
For a split second, his mind blanked.
It was quiet, but he knew that melody anywhere. The rising orchestral tension, the German lyrics—it was unmistakable.
And it was coming from behind the bookshelf.
Then—panic.
The sound cut off instantly, followed by a quiet curse. Someone had paused it in a rush.
Zen raised an eyebrow.
Interesting.
Curiosity sparked in him, like a match lighting in the dark.
He stood up, walking toward the shelves. Before he could see who it was, a figure stepped out—
Skki Dawa.
They both froze.
Zen looked at her.
Then at the phone clutched in her hand.
Skki looked at him.
Then at his phone screen—still paused on an anime frame.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then—
"…You didn't see anything," she said quickly.
Zen stared at her. Of all people. Skki Dawa.
Slowly, amusement curled at the corner of his lips.
"You watch anime."
Skki's eyes narrowed. "No, I don't."
Zen tilted his head, unimpressed. "Right. And I suppose your phone just accidentally played an Attack on Titan opening by itself?"
She crossed her arms. "Maybe."
Zen exhaled through his nose, amused. He didn't know why, but this was… unexpectedly entertaining.
Skki glanced around, lowering her voice. "Look, you're not gonna say anything about this, right?"
Zen raised an eyebrow. Why was she acting like this was a secret?
He shrugged. "Why would I?"
She hesitated. Then exhaled. "…Good."
A pause. Then, reluctantly, she muttered—
"What were you watching?"
Zen smirked. "Steins;Gate."
Skki blinked. Then, before she could stop herself—
"…That's actually a good choice."
Zen smirked wider. "So you do watch anime."
"Shut up."
She shot him a glare, but it wasn't threatening—it was more like mild embarrassment.
For the first time, Skki Dawa—the girl who belonged everywhere—looked like she didn't want people to know something about her.
And that made Zen curious.
Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as predictable as he thought.
Zen studied her for a moment, noting the slight tension in her shoulders and the way she was now avoiding his gaze. Skki Dawa was known for being confident, for fitting into every situation with ease—yet here she was, flustered over something as simple as watching anime.
"Alright," Zen said, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "So, since we're already here, might as well ask—what else have you watched?"
Skki scoffed. "You really think I'm gonna tell you?"
Zen shrugged. "You already slipped up once. Might as well embrace it."
She muttered something under her breath before glancing away. "Fine. But if you tell anyone, I'll—"
"Yeah, yeah. You'll make my life miserable, I get it," Zen interrupted with a smirk. "Now, go on."
She sighed, reluctant. "I watched… Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. And Jujutsu Kaisen. And—" she hesitated, barely audible, "Your Name."
Zen's eyes widened slightly. "Your Name? The romance one?"
"It's not just romance," she shot back quickly. "It's got a great story, stunning animation, and—ugh, why am I justifying this to you?"
Zen chuckled. "No reason. I just never expected Skki Dawa to be a closet anime fan."
She rubbed her temples. "I am not a fan. I just—appreciate good storytelling."
"Right," Zen drawled. "And I suppose you only happened to stumble across multiple anime by accident, huh?"
She groaned. "Can we drop this?"
"Sure, sure," Zen said easily. But the spark of curiosity in his eyes didn't fade.
For years, he had seen Skki as someone untouchable, someone who always had her life perfectly together. But this? This was something real. A tiny, unexpected crack in the image she projected to the world.
And for some reason, he liked seeing it.
Skki narrowed her eyes at him. "You're still thinking about it, aren't you?"
Zen smirked. "Maybe."
She groaned again, turning away. "You're the worst."
Zen just chuckled. Maybe this was the beginning of something interesting.