Chapter 1: New Student
“Akari Hojo just dropped a new song. I’m sure it’s gonna go viral again, just like the others.”
“Of course, I heard that song was written by Writer A. The one who always writes songs for Akari Hojo.”
The classroom, already noisy during lunch break, grew even louder with girls talking about their idol. Chairs scraped against the floor, laughter and whispers overlapped, turning the room into a small, bustling marketplace. Each group had their own gossip, but most circled around the same topic—Akari Hojo, the young singer dominating the music charts.
In the middle of that chaos, a girl sat quietly at the end of the row near the window. Unlike the others, she was lost in her own world, her pen racing across the page as if the noise around her didn’t exist.
Her blonde hair shimmered under the afternoon sunlight pouring through the glass, casting a soft halo around her head. From the side, the strands fell over her shoulder, glowing like liquid gold. She leaned her cheek against her palm, looking lazy, but her other hand moved quickly, filling the page with notes. A pair of dark, nerdy glasses hid her eyes, making it hard to tell where she was actually looking.
Then came the whispers.
“Hey, guys, look. Isn’t that the same brand of bag Akari Hojo uses? Maybe she’s some rich kid?”
Several pairs of eyes darted her way, a mix of envy and curiosity.
“Hush, don’t you know? Back in junior high she was famous for being a gal, totally hedonistic. But then it came out she was drowning in debt just to keep up that image.”
A ripple of laughter and sharp whispers spread. The blonde girl, Nozomi Sakura, squeezed her eyes shut. Just for a moment, she wished she could shut her ears too. Slowly, she reached into her bag, pulled out her earphones, and played music, her last defense against the shallow noise around her.
But her hand kept writing. Her notes remained neat, disciplined. Rather than a gal, she looked more like a model student, ignoring the stigma others threw at her. Her pen danced steadily, until the mood shifted.
The classroom door opened.
A teacher walked in with calm steps, clapping his hands once. That single sound silenced the room instantly as everyone scrambled back to their seats.
Nozomi kept writing, but her ears caught a faint sound from the front. At first she thought it was more gossip from those girls, but then it grew clearer—
“Nozomi Sakura!”
She jolted upright, tugging her earphones out. Her eyes met her homeroom teacher, who stood frowning, brows knitted together.
Her lips parted slightly, not because of the scolding, but because she noticed the person standing beside him.
A boy. His hair was deep black, so dark it seemed to swallow the sunlight. Crimson eyes stared sharply, a faint smile on his lips, a smile that felt off, as if something was hidden behind it.
“Studying is good, Nozomi Sakura,” the teacher sighed, his tone heavy with restrained annoyance. “But please pay attention to your surroundings too.”
Then he gestured to the boy. “Alright. Go ahead, introduce yourself, transfer student.”
The boy gave a short nod and stepped forward. His gaze swept across the class, calm yet intense. “Hello, everyone. My name is Alan.”
As the words left his mouth, his focus sharpened. He found Nozomi sitting by the window, watching him with furrowed brows. His gaze dissected her—head, body, legs—like a scan. It made her uneasy, as though he had trespassed into her private space.
“Please continue your introduction, Alan,” the teacher reminded, a bit confused at his sudden silence.
Alan blinked slowly, realizing every eye was on him. Some students leaned forward eagerly, knocking their desks in anticipation. Some smiled, while others clicked their tongues, already disliking him.
“oh, sorry,” Alan said flatly. “I’ll keep it simple. I’m from Kyoto. I moved to Tokyo for personal reasons. That’s all. I look forward to working with you.” He bowed politely.
The teacher nodded, then asked him to pick a seat. Without hesitation, Alan pointed to the empty desk beside Nozomi.
He placed his bag down and sat with a relaxed, calculated air. Nozomi felt his brief glance, but chose to ignore it, putting her earphones back on and continuing to write.
The teacher left after reminding the class not to bother their new classmate too much.
But before Alan could even breathe, chaos returned.
Bang!
A group of students swarmed his desk, pelting him with questions.
“Hey, hey! Why did you move to Tokyo?”
“Dude, how are your eyes crimson like that?”
Alan answered with a polite smile, his words short. “Hereditary.”
The crowd gasped in awe.
Then, out of nowhere, a girl shouted, her eyes wide. “I saw it on your wrist—wait, isn’t that…?!” She pointed. “Isn’t that Akari Hojo’s limited-edition watch? Only three exist in the world! How did you get that?!”
All eyes turned to his wrist. A black watch gleamed, its hands studded with tiny diamonds. Its price alone could buy a luxury car.
Unable to resist, the girl grabbed his hand. Reflexively, Alan almost pulled away, but stopped himself. One wrong move could ruin his reputation here.
Her eyes widened the closer she looked. “N-no… this watch is different.” Her voice trembled.
The crowd hushed, waiting.
Even Nozomi, who had ignored everything so far, glanced over. Akari Hojo’s song still played in her ears, fueling her curiosity.
“The frame of this watch… it’s engraved with Akari Hojo’s name. How did you get it?”
Ding-dong!
The lunch bell rang, breaking the tension. The students dispersed slowly, clapping Alan’s back, saying they were glad to meet him.
Nozomi stood, removed her earphones, and headed for the door.
Alan gave the girl a faint smile. “Sorry, I’ll explain later,” he said, then quickly followed Nozomi.
In the corridor, he spotted her walking toward the cafeteria. Without hesitation, he reached for her sleeve.
She turned sharply, irritation flashing across her face. Stopping meant she would fall behind—and risk losing her favorite meal.
“Sorry,” Alan said calmly. “Can I ask a favor?”
Nozomi yanked her arm free. “Just say it. What do you want?”
“Could you show me around the school?”
Suspicion flickered in her eyes. “Why me?”
“Because you’re quiet. You’ll probably stay quiet while explaining the school, instead of asking me a hundred questions.”
She clicked her tongue, annoyed. His gaze had been strange from the start. Still, refusing might create more trouble. With a sigh, she turned. “Fine. Follow me.”
Alan matched her steps, silent and steady.
One by one, she showed him the places: the library, the gymnasium, the lab, the music room.
Until they reached the cafeteria. Nozomi immediately checked for her favorite food, gone. She exhaled heavily, her face falling.
“You look upset. Sorry if it’s my fault,” Alan said flatly.
“I’m not upset,” she answered curtly.
But her expression betrayed her.
“In that case, let me treat you. Pick whatever you want.”
She glanced at him, trying to see if he was joking. His expression gave nothing away. Usually she could read people easily, but not this one.
In the end, she gave in, grabbing a single onigiri. Alan took the same.
But even after that, he still followed.
Nozomi frowned. “I already showed you everything. Why are you still tagging along?”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “There’s one place left.”
“What place?”
“The most comfortable spot. A loner’s paradise.” His gaze shifted toward the windows.
“The school rooftop?”
He nodded.
With a sigh, she led him upstairs. The door creaked open, revealing the rooftop. Afternoon wind rushed in, carrying the scent of rust from the iron railings. The sky stretched wide and endless.
“Ahhh… finally.” Alan spread his arms, inhaling deeply.
Nozomi stood back, watching. ‘This guy… I really can’t read him.’
He leaned against the railing, eyes locked on her. The door clicked shut behind them.
Some people fell in love at first sight. Nozomi’s temper flared at first sight.
She crossed her arms, glaring.
“What are you?”
“As you can see, human. But before that… check your pocket.”
Hesitant, she slipped her hand inside. Her fingers found a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it and read slowly. Her expression shifted—confusion, then seriousness, then a slight tremor.
A dry laugh escaped her lips.
“Once again, my name is Alan. Sorry for making you walk me around.”
Suddenly, Nozomi ripped the paper to shreds. Her eyes blazed. “Cut the crap! What the hell is this note supposed to mean?!”
She looked around quickly to make sure no one else was there, then pinned Alan with a furious glance.
“Is it really that hard to understand?” Alan tilted his head, smirking.
“Miss Nozomi, you’re in debt. Two million yen. Rolling loans to cover loans.”
“Don’t call me Miss!”
The words struck like a blade. Her pupils widened, silence gripping her.
Alan remained calm, his gaze flicking to her watch and earphones.
“That watch—one hundred thousand yen, bought two months ago. Miss Nozomi, you have no plan. You're not in control of your own life.”
A faint smile curved his lips.
“Do you want me to describe exactly how dark your future looks?”
