Students streamed through in clusters, their excited chatter bouncing off the concrete pathways. A few paused to glance at the clock tower, then quickened their pace.

Inside Classroom 1-A, rows of desks sat in neat formation. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, catching dust motes that drifted lazily in the air.

The room hummed with low conversation—students introducing themselves, comparing quirk stories, laughing at nervous jokes.

But one desk remained conspicuously empty. The one next to the window.

Beside it sat a boy with hair split down the middle—crimson red on one side, stark white on the other. His left eye was a shade of turquoise, his right a dull gray. He stared straight ahead, arms crossed, expression carved from ice.

He didn't look at the door when it slid open.

He didn't acknowledge the girl who walked in, slightly out of breath, a bright smile on her face.