Spring had come again. A second spring since the war ended. A second chance at something resembling normalcy.

Classroom 2-B was quiet when you stepped through the door. Half the desks were still empty, early arrivals scattered in small clusters—Itsuka Kendo at the front, reviewing notes; Tetsutetsu loudly arguing with someone on his phone; Kinoko Komori humming to herself as she arranged something on her desk.

The new desk assignment sheet was pinned to the board. Someone had already circled your name in red pen—seat number seven, near the window.

Hitoshi Shinso.

He didn't look your way. He rarely did during the mornings. But you noticed him all the same—the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he kept his head down even when no one was watching.