The professor intervened, looking at the class intently as if searching for an impossible solution.
— "I think… there's no extra desk."
Her eyes kept darting to the corners, as if she expected a magical table to rise from the floor.
…Damn.
Wait a second.
In the past, the table he took was the table Mizuki was sitting at...
But now?
There she is—right in front of me.
Ah. Another change?
No problem. Doesn't matter.
As long as no butterfly effect explodes in my face halfway through class.
The teacher's gaze shifted between me and Mizuki.
Suddenly, her expression lit up, as if she'd plucked a genius idea out of thin air.
— "Oh! I just remembered. There's an extra desk in the class next door. Last one in the back. Go get it."
Osama raised an eyebrow and half-whispered:
— "But… doesn't someone already sit there?"
— "No, no. She'll sit in front of Abdelhakim."
— "Alright… Thanks, miss."
He dragged the desk out with a lazy shuffle of his feet.
...But that's when the real hell began.
— "Mizuki, go sit next to Hakim."
— "Oh… okay."
She said it with a faint, nervous tone.
She started walking toward me with light steps… carrying her bag like it was the weight of her emotions.
Wait…
What?
Whaaaat?!
Why… why is she sitting in front of me?
Isn't this a post-COVID school? Where's the safe distance policy?!
Ah, right. This is Algeria. No one cares. Not even me, honestly.
But a girl?
In front of me?!
Her?! The same girl who witnessed the most humiliating moment of my life?!
On top of that, I'm a guy who's never spoken to a girl for more than five minutes without the conversation turning into:
"Okay. Got it. Bye."
But… alright.
I'm calm.
My mind is ready.
There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everything's under control.
I was sitting comfortably in my chair, unaware that I was taking up the side she was supposed to sit in.
Suddenly, she stood in front of me. Waiting.
Her eyes said it all: "Move."
— "U-um… could you sit on the other side?"
She said it softly, her eyes carefully watching me like she was scared I'd refuse.
I was sitting upright, arms folded, staring at her steadily.
…Beautiful.
Eyes as blue and clear as the depths of the sea.
Hair as dark-blue as the shadow of the sky after rain.
She flinched and quickly looked away.
— "Why are you staring? Is… is there something on my face?"
Oh.
I snapped out of it.
Maybe I stared too long.
— "I just wanted to make sure of something."
I said it calmly, stood up, and moved my chair to the other side without even glancing at her.
Now I was sitting by the window, pressed against the cold wall, watching the giant tree in the schoolyard.
What kind of tree was it? I didn't know.
I never cared about tree names.
But it was beautiful…
I chuckled inwardly like an idiot.
I wasn't used to this kind of beauty.
Natural. Radiant. Terrifying.
…Her eyes? That shade of blue?
Her hair?
That skin—so pure and white?
How?
Is this normal?
Am I dreaming? Is this some alternate world?
Am I the unlucky main character in a light novel now?
Or did I finally lose my mind?
But…
That's okay.
Even if this is a dream—let it last.
I closed my eyes, smiling quietly… gazing at nothing behind that window.
Oh…
I should wake up.
Now's not the time for my philosophical daydreaming.
I glanced sideways—just a slight turn of the head to keep facing the window, while my eye subtly drifted toward her… Mizuki.
Her short hair…
That red ribbon on her head… what's it called? An accessory? A band?
Hmm… I don't know.
I was thinking with my eyes closed when—
"—Mizuki, please introduce yourself."
The teacher said it casually, as if she were asking for the name of a cheese brand.
"—Ha…i, ano…"
Mizuki stood up from her seat. She looked kind of funny—like someone awkwardly trying to give a military salute.
"—I'm Sorako Mizuki, fifteen years old."
Hmm?
So she's fifteen.
Strange… I thought she was younger.
Maybe because of her height, or her clear, flawless skin.
I glanced down just beneath her neck… Oh. Right. Yeah… same age. No need to overthink it.
"—My GPA… I don't really understand what you mean by that..."
She said it while staring at the floor.
Her voice, her tone—everything about it screamed "I'm disappointed in myself."
But… that wasn't what caught my attention.
What struck me more was—
She stood up… but she's still short!!
…Pffft—
A quiet laugh slipped out of me.
I covered my mouth at the last second.
Did anyone see me?
Their stares… Wait, why are they looking at me like that? Did they get the wrong idea?
"—The GPA is your grade average for transferring into this year, dear."
The teacher said that while glaring daggers at me, as if I'd just mocked Mizuki.
"—I understand, sensei…"
Mizuki said, head lowered, as if apologizing to the entire world.
Sensei?
Not "teacher"?
Is that… Japanese?
I must've looked confused, even though I was only half-looking her way.
"—Oh, sorry, I'm new here… My transfer grades are different from yours, because… I'm Japanese."
She suddenly said it with a firm tone, like she'd made up her mind to muster some courage.
She raised her head as she spoke… but immediately lowered her eyes once she finished.
Still that embarrassed?
Japanese, huh…
So "sensei" means "teacher" in Japanese?
Huh, makes sense.
So her beauty's Japanese?
Though… I don't think natural blue hair is a thing in Japan.
But who am I to analyze DNA right now?
I glanced around at the students.
Ah… as expected, some of them started looking at her differently.
If someone didn't know how things work around here, they might misinterpret those looks.
Maybe…
I'll give her a small push.
I slowly turned, reached out, and placed my hand on her left shoulder.
Then moved to her right.
I raised my head a little, looking straight at her with serious eyes.
"—Mizuki… no, Sorako-san."
"—Ha…i?!"
Why did she say it like that? This isn't a military boot camp.
I smiled briefly, then brought my expression back to something more solemn.
I clenched my right hand into a fist and held it up to my chest.
"—Good luck… ganbare."
She looked at me for a moment before asking, slightly confused:
"—Do you… speak Japanese?"
"—Nah, nah, no clue."
Yeah… not very convincing, I know.
I didn't outright say anything, but her skeptical look…
Ugh, she's really bad at hiding her expressions.
I left her and turned back toward the window.
Rested my head on my hand, leaning on the desk.
In the end… I don't really care that much.
It's just that her face made me get involved—made me pull myself in to help.
But wait…
Did what I just did even count as "helping"?
"—Mizuki, so you're Japanese… That's why your accent sounds a little different, huh…"
The teacher said it gently—overly gently, like a doting mother trying to calm her nervous child.
"—Yes, sensei. I came here to study... and it hasn't been long since I started learning your language, ahaha..."
Mizuki-san, you don't have to force a laugh... It's obvious you're embarrassed. And honestly?
Your accent isn't bad at all.
In fact, our dialect is considered one of the hardest in the world—and yet...
I understand you perfectly.
Maybe because I'm… a literal polyglot.
"—Take a seat, Mizuki. And thank you for joining us. Your presence will be a beautiful cultural addition to our class."
"—Understood, sensei."
Mizuki sat down.
As for our "dear audience"—and by that, I mean my class—they were still looking at her and whispering among themselves.
Well... I know my country.
We don't really bully people...
It's the opposite, actually. Anything new becomes a topic of collective curiosity—even if it's completely trivial.
As for me...
I just want to lie down and stare out the window.
Honestly, this moment alone... is worth everything.
"—Next..."
I don't care who's next to introduce themselves.
I already know almost everyone here… or at least, I used to.
I've forgotten so many names and faces… and I'll forget again.
But the one thing I don't want to forget this time… is my own name.
"—Next..."
How do I turn the volume down on this classroom?
Yeah... I'll start imagining things.
But, wait...
Can I even imagine... if I'm in a dream?
Is this… a dream?
It's scary.
Not even a joke.
Time travel? Impossible.
Jumping between dimensions? Also impossible.
But thinking about it won't help.
This is a future problem—not a present one.
This kind of issue doesn't have an "instant fix."
Let's leave it to time.
Let's turn around and appreciate the temporary beauty...
I turned to the right... toward Mizuki.
Hmm...
Why did I cause that mess with her back then?
Maybe I wasn't thinking. Or maybe... because I had just gotten out of the hospital.
But will she really stay silent just because I told her "don't speak"?
I doubt it.
But I don't really care.
After all, there's nothing I can do now.
I took my phone out from under the desk...
8:40 a.m.
Not much time left.
I put it back in my pocket.
Let's see where they're at...
"—So… have you guys already chosen a class representative?"
The teacher asked in a soft, curious tone.
Maybe I should answer like I used to, back then...
"—Sensei, it's our first class… there's no way anyone chose anything."
"—Ah, right. Good point. Let's see then..."
She started scanning our faces.
And I knew exactly who she was going to pick.
"—Abdelhakim… Would you like to be the class rep?"
Exactly like the past.
But why me?
I never understood, and I don't think there's any real reason.
But as always... I'll deflect it onto someone else.
"—Sensei, I don't want to be the rep… I don't want to take on sins."
...Silence.
I know...
My joke was bad.
Really bad.
And yet I said it out loud... with confidence.
Even if no one laughed.
Even if it was awkward... and kind of sad.
But I...
I don't want to change anything about the past.