Dark clouds were piling up outside the window, pressing the light into a dull haze. The air carried the dampness that comes before rain, clinging to skin, slightly viscous.
Mu Xue'er's gaze drifted without purpose to the reflection in the glass. Something heavy settled in her chest, refusing to budge. Her fingertips scraped back and forth across the smooth surface of her desk.
The classroom was quiet enough to catch the scratch of pencil leads on paper, threaded with fragments of lowered voices.
Fan Feifei came clicking over in patent leather shoes, each heel striking the tile with a clean tak-tak. Her left fingertips braced against the spine of a hardcover book—dark navy cover, gold embossed patterns surfacing and disappearing depending on the light. As she passed, a sharp, cloying perfume pushed into Mu Xue'er's nose. She stopped at the desk. Chin lifted slightly. Her fingers, painted with dark nail polish featuring intricate carvings, traced idly along the desk edge, the nail catching a faint scrape against the surface: "A bit nosy, aren't you?"
Mu Xue'er turned her head, let her gaze land on Fan Feifei's face, then moved it away.
"Mind your own business, why don't you."
Fan Feifei made a sound through her nose. The muscles at the corner of her mouth pulled upward into a stiff arc. When she turned, her skirt caught the desk corner, cloth rasping softly.
The classroom door shoved open—a dull thud—and the noise from break scattered instantly.
Teacher Li stepped up to the platform. His pointer came down on the teacher's desk with a crack, lifting a thin layer of chalk dust. Under the pale fluorescent light, the dust swirled silently in the air.
A boy walked in from the doorway. Teacher Li clapped his palms together once. "This is Justin. Starting today, he's part of your class."
Low whispers broke out below—patchy, overlapping, too tangled to make out.
Justin had water drops hanging from the tips of his black hair, strands pressed flat against his forehead. His skin was the white of unglazed porcelain. The pale vein at his temple pulsed faintly with each breath, surfacing just below the skin.
His gaze moved in a flat unbroken sweep across one face after another—until it reached Mu Xue'er.
Stopped.
Cold air pushed through the gap in the window and walked down her spine. Her shoulders pulled tight. Mu Xue'er pressed her fingers into the cover of her textbook; her fingertips stuck.
The corner of Justin's mouth lifted slightly. The smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Please take the empty seat in the back row." Teacher Li pointed toward the corner.
Justin walked to the back. Spine straight. Shoes hitting the tile without raising any sound—like a quiet shadow passing through the room.
Mu Xue'er pressed her palm flat against the desk. Five fingers curled in, then slowly released. She made herself look at the chalk writing on the blackboard.
The characters blurred. White mist crept in from the edges, covering the outlines one piece at a time—
Covering the blackboard.