Spring crept back into the air — the kind that made windows fog up in the mornings and sent the smell of chalk and new books drifting through the classrooms.
Haruto sat quietly at his desk, chin propped on one hand, watching the sunlight filter through the curtains.
"Can you believe it?" Aoi said, bursting into the room, as energetic as ever. "A new term already!"
He looked up. "You say that like you weren't the one complaining about vacation ending yesterday."
"Hey, that's different!" she said, plopping down beside him — her usual spot. "Vacation me and school me are different people."
He smirked. "Right. Totally believable."
"Believe it!" she said, pointing dramatically at the ceiling. "Because school Aoi is a responsible student."
"…You literally forgot your bag last week."
"Haruto-kun, you're ruining my character arc."
---
Just as she finished her speech, their homeroom teacher clapped her hands at the front of the class.
"Alright, everyone! Before we begin the new term, we'll be reshuffling seats!"
The entire class erupted.
"Eh!? Again!?"
"I just got used to my spot!"
"This is a nightmare!"
Aoi froze mid-laugh, her smile fading.
"W-wait. Seat shuffle? As in… shuffle shuffle?"
Haruto's heart sank a little. They'd sat together since the start of the school year — from the first awkward introductions to late-night festival planning.
"Maybe," he said carefully, "we'll still end up near each other."
Aoi puffed her cheeks. "That's like saying maybe I'll win the lottery!"
He chuckled nervously. "Well… miracles happen."
"Then I'm praying for one."
---
The teacher started calling names, pulling cards from a box.
"Row one, seat two: Tanaka!"
"Row three, seat four: Fujimoto!"
Each name moved Aoi's frown deeper.
Finally —
"Row two, seat one: Haruto."
He stood up and found his new seat… by the window. Not bad. But when he turned back—
"Row four, seat five: Aoi."
She froze.
He blinked.
They were now three rows apart.
Aoi slumped dramatically onto her new desk. "This is tragic. This is the worst timeline."
Haruto couldn't help but laugh. "You'll survive."
She turned, pouting. "Don't laugh at my pain!"
---
For the rest of the morning, Haruto tried to focus on class — but every few minutes, he caught Aoi turning around, mouthing things like "Bored!" or "Save me!"
Once, she even drew a doodle on a sticky note, folded it into a paper airplane, and launched it when the teacher wasn't looking.
It landed right on his notebook.
He unfolded it to see a tiny sketch of himself and Aoi at their old desks, grinning.
Below it, a little heart and the words:
> Seatmates or not, you're still stuck with me! ♡ — Aoi
He looked up — she was watching him from across the room, pretending to take notes but clearly waiting for his reaction.
He smiled and scribbled a reply beneath her doodle:
> Then I guess I'm doomed.
He folded the note again and launched it back.
It hit her squarely on the forehead.
"Pfft—!" she stifled a laugh, nearly getting caught by the teacher.
Their eyes met.
And for a moment, neither needed to say anything.
Three rows apart… but still connected by the same quiet rhythm.
---
After class, Aoi raced to his side, waving the note. "I'm keeping this forever."
"You're so dramatic."
"It's called sentimental, thank you very much."
He sighed. "You're impossible."
"Yup! And you love it."
He blinked. "W-what—?"
She grinned. "I mean, you love that about me, right?"
He looked away, ears turning red. "I… I guess I'm used to it."
"That's close enough~," she said, laughing.
---
As they walked home under the cherry blossoms, Aoi hummed softly beside him.
"Hey, Haruto-kun?"
"Yeah?"
"Even if they move our seats a hundred times… we'll still hang out, right?"
He looked at her — her hair swaying in the breeze, pink petals caught in the strands.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Of course."
"Promise?"
He smiled. "Promise."
And as a gust of wind sent petals swirling around them, Aoi laughed — her voice light, warm, and full of spring.