The black limo rolled to a stop just outside PK Academy, drawing curious glances from every student nearby. It gleamed like it belonged in another world — which, technically, it did.
Inside, Saiko Metori lounged with the air of a prince surveying a kingdom he had yet to conquer. He wasn't interested in commoners. But last week, while being driven through this neighborhood, he'd seen her: a girl with flowing blue hair and dazzling blue eyes, radiating elegance as she walked to school alone.
Naturally, he'd arranged a transfer. The school itself didn't matter — only that he had decided she was worthy of him.
And yet, when he stepped into Classroom that morning, it wasn't the girl who caught his eye.
It was the boy sitting by the window, book open in his lap. The light from the window hit his blue hair just so, turning the strands silver at the edges. His expression was distant, distracted. Sad, even.
Saiko paused in the doorway.
"That one," he murmured.
A student next to him glanced over. "You mean Makoto Teruhashi?"
Saiko blinked. Teruhashi?
"He's Kokomi's older brother," the same student added. "Y'know — that Makoto. The actor."
That changed nothing.
Makoto's profile was sharp and striking, his movements poised despite the hollow look in his eyes. Even from across the room, he stood out. Not just in beauty, but in mystery.
That expression doesn't belong on someone like him, Saiko thought. He looks like a painting someone forgot to finish.
He smiled to himself.
This school might be more interesting than he thought.
Saiko didn't bother introducing himself.
The moment the teacher gestured to him, he stepped forward with a gloved hand, brushing imaginary lint off his custom-tailored blazer. His voice was smooth, practiced.
"I am Saiko Metori. You may now be impressed."
Silence.
Then…
"OH MY GOD, it's the rich guy from the tabloids!" Kaidou whisper-shrieked.
"Did he just say you may now be impressed?" Aren muttered.
Makoto barely glanced up from his sketchbook, expression unreadable. Saiki, sitting beside him, didn't move at all.
The teacher, flustered, assigned Saiko the only open seat — directly in front of Makoto.
Saiko adjusted his cufflinks with a practiced flick before making his way to the assigned seat. His footsteps were perfectly measured, polished shoes clicking softly against the floor.
He didn't look at Kokomi.
Not yet.
He took his seat in front of Makoto, carefully angled his shoulder back, and turned with that signature smile.
"Makoto Teruhashi," he said like a toast. "You're even more captivating up close."
Makoto, eyes still fixed on the chapter in his book, didn't look up. "Oh? Sorry. I don't sign autographs on Tuesdays."
Saiko chuckled, delighted.
"Is that so? Then I suppose I'll simply have to make you remember me until Wednesday."
Makoto finally looked up, blue eyes sharp and cold despite the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Sorry. I'm taken."
The words were casual. Offhand.
But Saiko caught the flicker of something behind them — not bravado, not mischief. It was almost… tired.
"By whom?" Saiko asked, his voice velvet.
Makoto tilted his head. "The emotional equivalent of a brick wall."
"Tragic," Saiko murmured. "For him."
Behind his textbook, Saiki's brow twitched.
Makoto sat at the far end of the cafeteria table, chin resting in one palm, poking at his bento with the other. He'd made it himself that morning, half on autopilot — rice, omelet, a few vegetables. Everything was arranged neatly, but he wasn't really hungry.
"Dude, are you okay?" Kaidou asked, breaking his own chopsticks dramatically. "You look like you just got your dog taken by the dark reunion."
Makoto blinked. "What?"
"That's his way of saying you look kinda sad," Hairo translated, taking a seat beside Kaidou with his usual bright energy. "Are you tired?"
"I'm fine," Makoto said, smiling lightly. "Just… spaced out, I guess."
"You've been spacing out all day," Aren added, arms crossed. "And Saiki didn't even sit next to you in class. Are you two fighting?"
Makoto's grip on his chopsticks twitched. "No," he said quickly. "Nothing like that."
From across the table, Saiki silently chewed his sandwich.
He didn't look up.
Kokomi, seated beside Makoto, leaned in and elbowed him with the precision of a younger sibling with no concept of personal space. "What happened?" she whispered under her breath, eyes darting briefly to Saiki.
Makoto didn't answer.
Kokomi narrowed her eyes. "You guys were glued to each other just the other day. Did he break up with you or something? Did you break up with him? Are you emotionally constipated—"
"Kokomi," he muttered, giving her a warning look.
She held up her hands innocently. "I'm just trying to help! This is so tense it's ruining my appetite."
Nendou, oblivious, shoved an entire rice ball into his mouth and mumbled, "I think you guys should hug it out."
"Your mouth is literally full of rice," Makoto muttered.
The conversation shifted as Kaidou began ranting about how lunch boxes were actually dark reuinion traps designed to limit spiritual growth, but Kokomi stayed focused, eyes narrowing at the awkward body language between her brother and the boy she used to definitely not have a crush on.
She turned to Saiki, who was pretending she didn't exist.
"Oh my god," she hissed under her breath. "You did break up with him, didn't you—"
Before the tension could implode any further, a shadow fell over the table.
"Pardon the interruption," came a smooth, confident voice. "But is this the elite commoner lunch club I keep hearing about?"
Everyone looked up. Saiko Metori stood there like he'd just stepped off a luxury magazine cover.
He wasn't wearing the standard uniform. His blazer was custom-tailored, stitched with subtle gold threading that caught the light. His shoes probably cost more than half the students' monthly allowances combined.
His eyes flicked across the table—first to Kokomi Teruhashi, a brief spark of recognition lighting his gaze, then to Makoto. A slow, amused smirk played on his lips.
"Makoto Teruhashi," he said smoothly, "may I join you?"
Makoto gestured to the only open seat—beside Saiki, directly across from him.
"It's a public table," Makoto said flatly. "Help yourself."
Saiko didn't just take the seat. He snapped his fingers sharply.
Almost immediately, two impeccably dressed servants appeared from nowhere, setting down a luxurious chair for him, laying a fine white tablecloth over the table, and arranging golden utensils, sparkling crystal glasses, and a silver plate before him.
The students stared, mouths half-open.
Saiko settled back with the ease of a man who owned the world. "Such grace, such manners. You must have been raised in a palace."
Makoto blinked. "I was raised by my parents."
Kokomi nearly choked on her juice.
Kaido raised a brow. "What's this guy's deal?"
"I transferred," Saiko said, turning to Kokomi with a slow, calculating smile. "Though I admit part of that decision was inspired by a certain blue-haired beauty I glimpsed on my way here…"
Kokomi blinked, a faint flush rising to her cheeks.
Makoto's eyes narrowed.
Everyone else watched, confused.
"…Me?" Kokomi asked, half-flattered, half-suspicious.
Saiko didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze slid back to Makoto.
"And now I find there are two of you."
Makoto gave him a sardonic look. "Yeah, siblings. Wild, right?"
Saiki, sitting silently beside saiko, clenched his lunch bag's corner just a little tighter.
Saiko leaned back, satisfied. "This school keeps exceeding expectations."
He folded his hands on the table, eyes flicking between Kokomi and Makoto like a man scanning a priceless collection.
"So," he said smoothly, voice dripping with amusement, "siblings. Matching aesthetics—blue hair, blue eyes, devastating bone structure. It's almost unfair."
Kokomi blinked. "Are… you hitting on both of us?"
Saiko's grin deepened. "I'm merely appreciating rare masterpieces. It would be rude not to."
Makoto raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty bold."
"Rich people aren't exactly known for subtlety," Aren muttered.
Saiki, quietly chewing, kept his eyes on his food, but a deep crease formed between his brows.
Saiko turned to Makoto again. "I know you told me in class you're taken."
Makoto's eyes flicked briefly to Saiki but stayed calm. "Yeah. I am."
"Hmm." Saiko smiled wider, unbothered. "That just makes the challenge more interesting."
Makoto rested his cheek on one hand, smiling faintly — but the light didn't quite reach his eyes.
Saiko's grin widened like he'd just pulled off a perfect move. "Well then, how about this?" He reached into an impossibly deep pocket and pulled out a sleek black card embossed with gold lettering. "Unlimited access to anything you want—cars, vacations, private tutors. You name it."
He slid the card across the table toward Makoto. "All I ask is your company."
Makoto looked down at the card, then back up with a dry smirk. "Sorry. I was serious about being taken."
Without missing a beat, Saiko turned to Kokomi, flashing the same arrogant smile. "And for you? A personal stylist, a fleet of luxury cars, front-row seats at every event."
Kokomi gave a polite but firm shake of her head, her flawless smile never wavering. "Thank you, but I'm focusing on my studies."
A sudden murmur rippled through the cafeteria, growing louder and louder until Kokomi's fans stood up in unison, voices rising with protective fervor.
"Leave our goddess alone!" one declared fiercely.
"She's perfect! No one gets to mess with Kokomi!"
"No one's deserves her!"
From the other side of the room, Makoto's fan club responded immediately, waving their own banners and shouting back with equal passion.
"Leave Makoto alone too!"
"Tooru Mugami's ours!"
"....and Saiki's!"
The cafeteria buzzed with tension as the two groups faced off, each defending their idols like loyal warriors. Teachers exchanged uneasy glances, and some students tried to quietly diffuse the brewing fan war.
Saiko's confident smile flickered, realizing this talk was about to turn into something much messier than he had anticipated.
Kaidou muttered under his breath, "Who even says no to free stuff like that?"
Aren shrugged, "Some people have standards, I guess."
Saiko chuckled, suddenly gaining his confidence again "Bold answers. I like that. But don't think this is over."
He leaned back, folding his hands with the grace of a man who always gets what he wants.
Saiki's eyes narrowed just slightly, watching the whole exchange silently, the tension thick enough to slice through.
Makoto and Kokomi exchanged unimpressed glances, clearly not tempted.
With a playful shrug, Saiko rose from his seat. "Well, I must be off. I have a lunch reservation at a five-star restaurant in a few minutes."
Before anyone could respond, the servants moved swiftly to gather up the tablecloth, utensils, and everything they'd just placed with precision and silence.
Saiko gave both siblings one last confident wink before turning on his heel and striding out of the cafeteria, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive cologne.
The group sat frozen for a beat, then Kaidou finally muttered, "Man, that guy's something else." Kaidou then nudged Aren. "Think he actually knows what normal people eat?"
"Probably not. His five-star is just an expensive takeout box." Aren replied before leaning back, arms crossed, eyes narrowing at Makoto and Saiki.
"So… are you guys gonna spill why you're not sitting together all lovey-dovey like usual?" he asked, voice half-joking but with a sharp edge. "And why Makoto looks depressed as fuck?"
Hairo nudged Nendou. "Yeah, seriously. You two are usually glued together like glue, and now it's like you're strangers."
Nendou gave Makoto a worried look and lightly elbowed him. "Hey, buddy, what's going on? You don't seem yourself lately."
Makoto's fingers tightened around his fork, but he didn't meet anyone's gaze.
Saiki, quiet as ever, glanced briefly at Makoto, his usual impassive mask faltering for a second.
Aren finally sighed. "Something's definitely off. And we're gonna get it out of you two"
Makoto's voice was low when he finally spoke. "It's… complicated."
Kaidou smirked. "That's the oldest excuse in the book."
Makoto swallowed hard, glancing briefly at Saiki.
"Saiki and I will deal with it later," he said quietly.
Saiki, gave a slow, subtle nod in agreement — his usual impassive face barely flickering.
Kokomi frowned but nodded, understanding it wasn't the time or place.
Kaidou scoffed but shrugged. "Fine, but don't think you're getting off that easy."
The tension didn't fully lift, but the group let it rest — for now.