INT - CLASSROOM - 7AM
The next day came way too fast, and somehow, everyone already looked exhausted—just from thinking about what was supposed to be their relaxing school trip.
All the other sections were buzzing with excitement, planning outfits and itineraries… except for the two sections under Murasaki-sensei's guidance.
Lucky them.
Fire slumped over her desk, her face half-buried in her folded arms. She looked like someone mourning the death of her romantic daydreams.
"Why…" she groaned softly, her voice muffled against the wooden surface.
Oriel sat in front of her, lounging on a chair she had borrowed from Dhylan's desk. With one leg crossed over the other, she sighed like a queen forced to deal with commoners.
"I can't believe this. She always has something up her sleeve," Oriel muttered, shaking her head as the rest of the class trickled in.
"I'm so early because I couldn't sleep!" Fire pouted, her eyes glassy. "All of my imagined scenes are gonnnneee!"
Then she dropped her face dramatically onto the desk again, like a tragic heroine facing the end of her youth.
Oriel leaned closer, lowering her voice with a teasing lilt. "Were you imagining them with Mr. President?"
The question hit Fire like a thunderbolt. She shot up instantly, eyes wide, cheeks blazing red. Oriel didn't even need to see her face to burst into laughter.
"Oriel! You promised you wouldn't tease!" Fire whined, covering her face but still peeking through the gaps between her fingers.
"I was just asking," Oriel said, clearly failing to hide the mischievous grin spreading across her lips.
Then Dhylan appeared beside Fire, cheerful as ever. "What did I miss?"
"Nothing! Girl code," Oriel said quickly, standing up with crossed arms. "I'm going back to my desk."
Dhylan chuckled as he fixed his chair back in place. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, tilting his head toward Oriel's retreating figure.
Fire sighed. "I think she thinks she's the only one who knows."
Dhylan smirked and shook his head. "She's the only numb one," he muttered before flipping open his notebook.
Meanwhile, at the front of the room, Oriel's phone buzzed—just once. A single vibration, quiet but heavy. She discreetly slipped it from her pocket, her expression faltering for a brief moment.
She didn't have to check to know who it was
Azure: Oriel, why aren't you answering my calls or messages? Please, let's meet.
Her heart sank again, that familiar weight pressing against her chest. The laughter and chatter around her seemed to fade into a distant hum.
Would she ever be ready to see Azure again?
She didn't know.
— Lunch Break —
The bell finally rang, snapping me out of my own self-pity.
Finally. Fresh air. Freedom. Food.
I looked straight toward Ice's desk—my eyes locked on my always freshly made, with-love lunch partner.
Okay, maybe not the "with-love" part.
But—wait. His seat was empty.
I frowned. "He was just there!"
"He walked out just now," Dhylan whispered like an informant.
Okay, I'm officially surrounded by unpaid spies for Ice. None of whom I hired!
I rushed out into the hallway, scanning left and right. It didn't take long before I spotted him, standing at the far end near the railing, one hand resting against it. Only a few people ever came this way.
"Can't you listen to me—just this once?" Ice stressed, then on the other line I heard an electronic voice.
A girl's voice.
Ice sighed and closed his eyes, looking irritated.
I crept closer and peeked from behind him, sticking my head out like some suspicious mushroom.
He instantly turned his head, and his glare landed right on me.
Oof. That glare. Handsome, yes—but deadly.
He shifted to lean against the nearby post, crossing his arms, clearly annoyed.
"What?" he said flatly.
"I—uh—I was just passing by!" I said quickly, stepping back with a pout.
(Okay, maybe I was inquiring about lunch but he didn't have to know that!)
"I told you not to listen to other people's conversations," he said, voice calm but sharp.
"I wasn't! I just overheard," I protested. Then, before I could stop myself, I mimicked his tone:
"'Can you listen to me?'" I said, pretending to hold a phone.
He sighed again, that long, tired sigh he does whenever I exist near him.
"Who was that? Sounded like a girl's voice," I said, leaning closer out of pure academic curiosity.
You know—for thesis purposes.
He exhaled deeply and then said something completely unexpected.
And just like that, my curiosity went from "mildly concerned student" to "emotionally unprepared chaos gremlin."
Next Part:
I only wanted to eat lunch. Not question my sanity, not lose my heartbeat, and definitely not get lip-touched by the human embodiment of frostbite.