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"Hey, it's him… Hayato Kurogane."
"No way… he's scary as hell. Don't make eye contact, idiot."
"I heard he sent a senior to the hospital for stepping on his shoe."
"No, it was because the guy asked for his notes."
Same old, same old.
I sighed for what felt like the thousandth time this morning as I walked through the school gates. A fresh chorus of whispers greeted me the moment I stepped onto campus, like a broken record that played on a loop every damn day.
Everyone always acted like I was some dangerous beast, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Some even avoided walking on the same side of the hall as me. There was a time in first year when a guy actually screamed when I accidentally made eye contact. No joke.
And the worst part?
I wasn't even trying to look scary.
This was just my normal face. I mean, yeah, my eyebrows are kinda sharp, and maybe my glare is a little intense when I'm thinking too hard, but it's not like I'm doing it on purpose. If anything, I'm just… socially awkward. I get flustered easily. My stomach knots up when people talk to me. And when I'm nervous, my expression tenses up and people mistake it for anger.
It's a vicious, never-ending cycle.
The more nervous I get, the scarier I look.
The scarier I look, the more people avoid me.
The more people avoid me, the lonelier I feel.
And the lonelier I feel, the more nervous I get.
Rinse and repeat.
I tugged my hoodie a little lower over my head as I made my way toward the school building. It was one of my coping strategies — hiding behind my hoodie made me feel less exposed. I knew it wasn't helping my image as a "delinquent," but at this point, I'd rather look like a cliché than deal with another conversation.
"Tch… what a pain." I muttered under my breath.
"Kurogane, you're late again."
I flinched at the familiar voice.
Turning around, I saw Tanaka-sensei, our homeroom teacher, standing by the entrance. He had that same easy-going grin plastered on his face, one hand holding a cup of convenience store coffee.
"Yeah… sorry." I mumbled.
He just waved it off.
"Get to class before the bell rings. And try not to scare anyone on the way, okay?"
I didn't bother replying. Not because I was being rude, but because I knew whatever I said would just come out sounding hostile. It always did.
I trudged up the stairs toward the second floor, weaving through the sea of students who parted like the Red Sea whenever I got close. It was kinda impressive, actually. If this was an ability, I'd call it [Natural Menace Aura] or something.
Class 2-C.
My prison, my sanctuary, and my stage for daily misunderstandings.
I slid the classroom door open.
Instant silence.
The moment I stepped inside, the noise and chatter evaporated. Heads turned. Conversations died mid-sentence. A girl at the front audibly gasped. A guy halfway through a yawn froze like a glitching NPC.
Same as always.
I walked to my seat at the very back by the window — the protagonist seat, if this was a manga. Too bad I wasn't a protagonist. I was the supposed "final boss" character everyone avoided.
I slumped into my chair and rested my chin on my hand, staring out the window at the morning sky.
And then I heard it.
"Alright, everyone settle down. We've got a transfer student joining us today."
Tanaka-sensei's voice cut through the tense air.
Wait — a transfer student? Now? In the middle of the semester? That's rare. I turned my head slightly, curious in spite of myself.
And then she walked in.
Long, dark hair tied in a loose ponytail, sharp, narrow eyes with a confident gleam, and a presence that made the air shift. She wasn't cute in the typical bubbly way — more like… cool. The kind of person who didn't care what anyone thought. She looked around the classroom like she owned it.
And then, with a smirk, her eyes landed on me.
"So this is the so-called delinquent, huh? Doesn't look like much."
My stomach dropped.
W-Wait. What?!
Did she just call me out?! In front of everyone?! No, no, no, this was bad. I could already feel the eyes of the entire class shift from cautious fear to horrified anticipation. I could practically hear their inner voices.
"Oh no, she's going to get herself killed!"
"Is she insane?!"
"RIP, transfer girl."
Tanaka-sensei scratched his head, clearly uncomfortable with the tension.
"Uh… okay, Misaki-san. Why don't you introduce yourself properly?"
"Sure."
She casually leaned against the teacher's desk and gave a half-hearted wave.
"Name's Misaki Ayane. I just transferred here. I don't like boring people, fake smiles, or guys who act tough. I'm not here to make friends, so don't expect me to."
The classroom collectively shuddered.
What kind of introduction was that?!
Was this girl a delinquent too?! Was this going to turn into a territorial gang war or something?!
And then it happened.
"I'm sitting next to him."
She pointed directly at me.
The world froze.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Even Tanaka-sensei looked like he short-circuited.
I, meanwhile, was about five seconds away from a panic attack.
WHY ME?!
Out of all the empty seats — there were like, five near the front! — she picked the one beside the "dangerous delinquent"? I didn't want this. I just wanted to quietly exist in my little corner of misery.
Tanaka-sensei cleared his throat awkwardly.
"A-Ah, well, if you're okay with that…"
Misaki grinned.
"It's fine. He doesn't seem as bad as people say."
I didn't even have the energy to glare. I just slumped forward and buried my face in my arms, wishing for the ground to swallow me whole.
This was going to be a long, long year.
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To Be Continued…