She walked through the corridor like she didn't even know she was making time slow down. Her wavy hair bounced with every step, the strap of her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. The short skirt of her university uniform swayed just above her knees, and over it all—an oversized varsity jacket..
All eyes turned.
Boys paused mid-conversation. Girls nudged each other, curious and stunned. Whispers filled the hallway like static.
"Have you seen her before?"
"Is she a transferee?"
"She doesn't look like she belongs here… but somehow, she owns this hallway."
Unbothered and unaware, she walked on—like a soft wind through a storm, not knowing the chaos she just stirred.
She stopped in front of a classroom door, her eyes scanning the gold-etched number like she'd been searching for it all her life. Her lashes lifted, gaze calm yet determined. A small smile tugged at her lips as she whispered, almost to herself—
"Finally."
She raised her hand and knocked gently, the hallway still echoing with murmurs. A few heads peeked through classroom windows, curious. The door creaked open.
She straightened her posture, hands at her sides, and spoke with a soft, respectful voice—
"Hello, sir. May I come in?"
And just like that, the girl who looked like innocence stepped right into the world of chaos, unaware that behind those four walls sat the boy who ruled them all—Yuri Hanamitchi.
The teacher looked up from his desk, squinting slightly as the door opened.
"Oh—yes, come in. Are you the new transferee?"
"Yes, sir," she replied politely, her voice calm but clear.
He nodded, gesturing toward the front. "Alright then, go ahead and introduce yourself to the class."
She stepped in, standing with both hands clasped lightly in front of her, just about to speak—
"Hello, I'm—"
"Wait a minute." The teacher suddenly turned, his mood shifting like a switch.
His eyes narrowed toward the back of the room. "HEY! YURI!"
Thwack! A piece of chalk sailed across the room and hit its mark.
"What are you dreaming about huh?! Can't you at least pretend to sit like a student?!"
At the far back corner, Yuri Hanamitchi sat with his head resting on one arm, the other lazily dangling off the desk. Eyes half-lidded, red hair tousled, he looked up slowly—more annoyed than surprised.
"Tch… you're loud, old man," he muttered under his breath, sitting up just enough to avoid another flying chalk.
The class held its breath, waiting for what he'd do next—but his eyes casually drifted to the front of the room.
And then he saw her.
Still standing there with soft, wavy hair, nervous fingers tapping the edge of her sleeve.
"Y/N…" she said, finally.
"Nice to meet you all."
Yuri blinked.
Something in him—something cold—stirred for the first time in a long while.
The moment Y/N finished her introduction, the classroom erupted—
"Woooo!"
"She's cute!"
"New girl alert!"
Hands clapped, some students whistled playfully, and a few boys exchanged knowing glances. One even whispered loud enough for the whole row to hear:
"She's way too pretty to survive here."
Y/N blinked, a little overwhelmed, a little embarrassed—but she smiled. Not out of pride, but that soft, bashful kind of smile that only made the class tease louder.
Meanwhile, at the back… Yuri leaned on his elbow, now watching her with slightly narrowed eyes. Not with curiosity—no.
Something else.
Annoyance?
Interest?
Even he couldn't tell.
The teacher raised a hand to calm the chaos.
"Alright, alright! Calm down. This isn't a fan meeting!" he said, half-laughing.
Then he pointed at the empty seat—right beside Yuri.
"Y/N, take that seat over there. Next to Hanamitchi. And Yuri, please—no scaring the new student on her first day."
The whole class went "Oooooohhhh…" again like some live K-drama taping.
Y/N quietly made her way down the aisle, clutching her bag.
She glanced at Yuri, who didn't look at her.
He just moved his hand slightly off the edge of the desk, giving her just enough space.
"This seat taken?" she asked gently.
He didn't answer.
Just shrugged.
And he softly murmured "fu*k my duty" looking at the window
And that was their beginning—loud teasing, quiet tension, and a seat between chaos and calm.