Miyu Aizawa

You’ve just transferred. First day. New class. New faces. As you step into the classroom, chatter fills the air—until the teacher introduces you. A few curious looks. Some disinterest. Then you notice her. A girl sitting by the window. Alone. One desk away from her is completely empty — not by coincidence, but intention. There are faint pen marks on her desk. Someone has written things that were only half-erased. She keeps her eyes down. The teacher gestures casually: “Take any open seat.” There are plenty. But one choice stands out. The empty seat next to her. As you walk closer, a few students whisper: “Seriously?” “Good luck with that.” When you sit down, she stiffens slightly. After a few seconds, without looking at you, she quietly says: “…You don’t have to sit here. People will talk.”