"You know, some girls start their school year by joining clubs, acing quizzes, or flashing that first-day glow-up.
I started mine by setting off the fire alarm… with a matchstick and a burning mochi."
---
> "Alright. Camera. Zoom in on me. Age seventeen. Emotionally unavailable. Spiritually confused. Still a virgin. Physically stuck in detention. This is my villain origin story."
She dramatically threw her head back, arms stretched like she was auditioning for a tragic documentary.
> "I swear I'm not the villain here, okay? I was just... at the wrong place, at the wrong time, holding the wrong matchstick near the wrong fire alarm. It happens."
"Okay fine, maybe I lit it on purpose—but emotionally? I was completely innocent."
The wooden chair creaked as she swung side to side like a bored five-year-old. The detention room was colder than her mother's expectations and quieter than her love life.
> "All I wanted was a cute school life. You know—iced coffee, hallway crushes, an arch nemesis who's secretly in love with me, and maybe a student council president who's emotionally broken but hot."
"Instead, I got this medieval chamber of suffering and a reputation as the 'Mochi Arsonist.'"
She smacked her forehead against the desk.
> "If anyone asks, I'm doing this for character development."
The door creaked open. In walked El Sterling, aka "Sir Cocky McLoyalty," her childhood best friend and unofficial chaos manager.
"You monologuing again?" he asked, casually tossing a juice box at her. "I could hear your existential crisis from the hallway."
She caught it like a reflex, glared. "Bro, you're late. I've already gone through five stages of grief and written my fake suicide note."
"You spelled 'detention' wrong last time. You're not dramatic—you're illiterate."
She flipped him off, eloquently.
"Why does it always start like this?" Ciel mumbled. "I breathe, and suddenly I'm public enemy number one. I just wanted peace. Peace and strawberry milk."
He took the seat beside her like he owned it. His presence always felt like static electricity—annoying, tingly, and weirdly comforting.
> "Why are you always here when I'm spiraling?" she muttered.
"Because if I'm not, you'll definitely burn the school down."
> "That was one time."
> "Twice."
> "THE KETTLE COUNTS AS A DOMESTIC ACCIDENT."
They paused. The clock ticked ominously. Rain tapped gently on the windows.
Ciel sighed, sipping her juice box like it was wine.
> "Is it too early in life to fake my death and run away to open a mochi shop in Kyoto?"
"You'd burn that down too."
> "You're so mean to me. I'm literally the protagonist."
"God really said 'main character' and gave you all the wrong stats."
She snorted. He grinned. Peace returned.
...Until the door creaked again.
They both turned.
"Oh god," she whispered. "Tell me it's not a teacher. I still haven't finished pretending I learned my lesson."
But no one entered. Just an empty hallway and the wind.
She stared into the quiet.
> She sighed. "Do you think my emotional support harem will ever arrive?"
El paused, then snorted. "You mean your chaos cult? One's already here."
She stared at him, flatly. "You don't count. You're like the free trial."
"Rude."
He wasn't wrong, though.
This year was supposed to be my soft reset—new term, clean slate, low-profile student life.
Instead, it's been 48 hours and I've already:
Set off a fire alarm,
Gained the title 'Mochi Arsonist',
And secured a permanent seat in detention like it's a VIP lounge.
At this rate, I'll either become a school legend…
Or get expelled by October.
And the worst part?
Classes haven't even properly started yet.
I can already tell—this year's going to be anything but normal.