Soft snores filled the small space between Yuma's folded arms and his desk. His curls spilled just enough to brush against his sleeves, rising and falling gently with every breath.
As far as Yuma was concerned, this mid-class nap was the only thing that mattered.
After all, the dream he was having was sweet.
A beautiful woman stood before him, her back turned. Her hair fell two inches past her shoulders, curling softly at the ends, dark red fading seamlessly into deep blue. He couldn't see her face, yet somehow, just from her silhouette alone, Yuma knew her beauty had to be unmatched. Slowly, just as he was about to take in more of her…
He jolted upright.
"Oi, Yuma, wake up."
The voice cut through his thoughts like a blade. Keisuke stood beside his desk, smiling. Yuma let out a small snort before fully waking, quickly wiping at his lips just in case he'd drooled.
"Class is over?" he asked, standing up in one smooth motion.
He towered over Keisuke, though only by about 25 centimeters.
"Yeah," Keisuke replied, laughing quietly as he stepped aside. "Did you seriously sleep through the whole thing?"
Yuma looked down at him, taking in his appearance. Wavy brown hair. A perfectly symmetrical face. Warm, glowing brown eyes paired with an effortless smile. Even his physique was well-built and tanned, far too refined for a fifteen year old. Honestly, if not for his height, Keisuke could've easily been a model. Too bad he'd probably never hit the 180-centimeter requirement.
At only 152 centimeters, it was a waste. Though Keisuke didn't seem bothered by it at all.
"I couldn't help it," Yuma shrugged. "The teacher kept rambling about boring stuff… besides, my grade will be fine missing one lesson."
He wasn't wrong. Yuma wasn't struggling, but he wasn't excelling either. He was average and somehow, that always worked in his favor.
Keisuke didn't argue. Instead, he handed Yuma a neatly stacked set of notes.
"Here. I figured you wouldn't be writing anything, so I copied everything twice."
Yuma paused.
Right. This was exactly why Keisuke was his best friend. The kid always knew what Yuma was thinking. Too well, sometimes. He was practically the perfect friend. Yuma slipped the notes into his bag.
"You didn't have to," he said. "But thanks."
"You'd do the same for me."
Keisuke chuckled before turning and heading out into the hallway. Yuma followed a few steps behind, immediately noticing the way people reacted to Keisuke's presence. None of the looks were negative.
The boys waved and greeted him. Girls smiled and called his name. A group of girls stopped him altogether, thanking him for helping them earlier before heading off, visibly excited.
Keisuke's popularity was impossible to ignore.
A certified genius who skipped ahead into his final year of high school, paired with a personality so kind it was nearly impossible to dislike him. Keisuke was treasured by everyone.
Eventually, he waved goodbye and headed off to meet his sister. Now left bored and alone, Yuma wandered the halls before deciding to head out himself.
That's when a flash of platinum blonde caught his eye. In the distance stood a person shaped entirely like disgust.
Akira.
Yukigami Akira. The so-called perfect boy.
Piercing blue eyes. Slicked-back platinum-white hair. Pale skin. Long lashes. A face so symmetrical and harmonious it irritated Yuma just to look at it.
Then there was his build, lean and athletic, perfectly balanced. Even his height fit him annoyingly well at 170 centimeters.
Yuma had never actually spoken to Akira. Yet, for some reason, he hated him. Deep down, he simply assumed Akira was a spoiled prick.
Akira glanced at him.
Just once.
That was enough.
Yuma turned and walked outside without thinking.
His mind spiraled as he walked, imagining slapping that smug expression right off Akira's face until suddenly, his foot caught on something.
He hit the ground hard, palms scraping against the pavement.
"Tch-"
The sting snapped him back to reality. After a quick look around, he realized he was already near home. But something else caught his attention.
A sword hilt caught in the crack of the pavement.
It was light blue, with a crimson pommel that shone like a ruby. Nothing else was attached to it.
Yuma immediately knew what he'd tripped over. Standing up, he walked toward it and reached out. The moment his fingers touched the hilt…
The cloudy sky vanished.
In its place was a vast field of grass beneath a clear, open sky. The land stretched endlessly in every direction, not a single tree in sight.
That only made the lone white table in the distance impossible to miss. Seated at it was a small figure, cloaked in purple.
Unsure of what else to do, Yuma walked toward it.