The sliding door of the classroom glided open with a soft hiss, and Isagi stepped inside with his usual calm demeanor: back straight, steps steady, a neutral expression that neither pushed people away nor drew too much attention. Or it would have been that way… if he weren't "him" after scoring seven goals in a match the entire school had watched.
The moment he whole school had been watching.
The background noise in the room shifted the instant he set foot inside.
"Good morning, Isagi!"
"Yo, Isagi!"
"Yoichi, morning!"
Greetings came from every direction: from the window row, the back of the class, even from two students who'd been arguing about math yet still found time to raise a hand and wave. Isagi returned each one with small, polite nods and his usual faint smile—friendly enough, but never too familiar.
He walked down the aisle between the desks, trying not to attract any more attention than he already did simply by existing.
And then…
"Isagiiii-kun! Goooood morning!"
The voice soared above all the others.
Marin Kitagawa practically glowed beside her desk. There was no other word for it. The classroom light seemed to hit her with some special natural spotlight bonus, and her pinkish eyes sparkled. She hurried toward him.
"Isagi-kun!"
Marin stopped very close. Very close. Close enough that Isagi instinctively lifted his chin in slight surprise.
"Good morning!" she chirped.
"Good morning, Kitagawa-san," he replied with a gentle smile—a little softer than the ones he usually gave most people.
Marin clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward, her blonde hair swaying in perfectly chaotic waves.
"You're early again today, huh?" she said, smiling with her eyes. "Man, you're so disciplined… like, really disciplined. I could barely wake up, can you believe it? I almost missed the bell!"
Isagi blinked naturally.
"You always seem full of energy."
"Me? Energy? Only when I'm talking to someone cool!" Marin laughed, twirling a strand of hair. "But it took me like ten minutes to get out of bed… my bed was hugging me, you know? That whole 'just five more minutes' thing."
He nodded, considering it. "I've never felt that. I pretty much always wake up motivated…"
"Wow! For real? That's even possible?" Marin looked genuinely shocked. "God…I'm so jealous."
Isagi just gave a wry smile. In his previous life he'd never wanted to stay in bed either; he'd been someone who didn't particularly like sleeping, thinking it was a huge waste of time. This life was the same…
She stepped beside him and started walking along as if it were the most natural thing in the world—even though her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
"Ah!" Marin glanced at the backpack on his shoulder. "That bag looks heavier than yesterday… what'd you bring in there? Bricks? Two bricks? Or… secret stuff?"
Isagi looked away for half a second.
"…Something like that."
Marin's comment—spoken a little too loudly, with a little too much sparkle in her eyes—made several nearby students stop what they were doing just to watch the two of them.
And watching was an understatement.
They stared.
Shamelessly.
"Are they… closer now?"
"Mm-hmm. Way closer."
"Damn… Kitagawa's practically glued to him."
"Practically? She's orbiting him."
"Are they da—"
"Shhh!! They'll hear you!"
Isagi let out a quiet sigh—the kind you release when you realize you're starting the day wrapped in an absurd amount of unwanted attention.
"Kitagawa-san…" he began, glancing sideways at the curious stares around them. "I think we should talk later. Before people start talking too much."
Marin blinked in surprise at his words, only then noticing the sudden focus of the entire classroom with the same carefree attitude she applied to almost everything in life. The initial surprise came from the intensity of the stares, not from the fact they were staring. She was already used to drawing attention without trying, and deep down it didn't really bother her.
If it had been almost any other girl in class, she'd probably have stepped back, gotten shy, or moved away to avoid rumors. Marin did the exact opposite. Realizing she was being watched didn't intimidate her—it sparked a playful, almost mischievous glint in her eye. She didn't see any problem with being close to Isagi, and if people were staring too much, that only made her want to tease him even more.
But she caught the slightly serious look on his face and decided not to anyway. She'd have plenty of chances later.
"Ah—yeah… you're right." She took a step back, blushing just a tiny bit while trying to hide it behind a smile. "Okay! Talk later!"
Isagi gave a small nod and continued toward his desk.
But the moment he got close…
The air turned ice-cold.
Literally freezing.
As if someone had opened an industrial freezer right behind his neck.
Alya, sitting next to his seat with her chin resting on her hand, was gazing out the window… or pretending to. But the aura around her was so frigid, so intense, so visibly irritated that three students walking past suddenly stopped, shivered, and turned around as if they'd felt an evil spirit.
From a distance, Marin suddenly got goosebumps for no reason. Confused, she blinked and went back to talking with her friend.
Isagi held his breath for half a second before approaching his desk.
"…Good morning, Alya."
Without fully turning her face, Alya narrowed her eyes, eyebrows arched in a perfect curve of coldly elegant indignation. Her flushed cheek gave everything away, but the icy expression tried to deny it.
She huffed.
Turned her face even more toward the window.
And muttered in a quick, irritated, childish whisper—just loud enough for Isagi to hear:
«Предатель… Предатель… Предатель… Предатель…»
("Traitor… Traitor… Traitor… Traitor…")
Isagi blinked, as if he hadn't understood a single thing.
"…Huh? What was that?"
Alya turned slowly, her gaze now perfect: cold, dignified, superior… and brimming with barely concealed jealousy.
"Nothing," she answered in flawless Japanese, crossing her arms. "Just… saying good morning."
He looked at her a second longer.
Not out of suspicion.
But because she was terribly bad at hiding her mood, even though she sincerely believed she was good at it.
"…Got it," he replied calmly, opening his backpack and starting to arrange his things on the desk. "Good morning, then."
Alya looked away; the tips of her ears turned red.
"…Good morning."
Yet she still murmured, so softly no other student could hear—but not soft enough for him:
«Предатель…»
("Traitor…")
Isagi took a deep breath.
It was official.
The day had barely started and was already more complicated than a triple mark inside the penalty area.
And class hadn't even begun yet.
Alya remained turned slightly toward the window, chin on her hand, posture stiff—enough to convince anyone she was in an untouchable foul mood. But Isagi already knew her well enough to notice that even when she looked ready to unleash a blizzard across the entire classroom, there was always a small crack where her true feelings leaked out.
He needed to do something to thaw the freezing atmosphere around her. He considered asking something trivial, maybe mentioning homework, or complimenting her on something… but he didn't have time.
Because Alya, in the middle of her inner emotional storm, surprised him.
She broke the silence first.
In a low but firm voice, scratched by jealousy she was carefully (or so she thought) disguising:
"…You did the homework, didn't you?"
Still not looking straight at him.
Isagi blinked, surprised. He'd expected to be ignored for at least the next twenty minutes.
"Yes." He nodded simply, confirming what he'd already told her by message earlier.
Alya made a small "hmm" sound that mixed approval, relief, and pure stubbornness. Then she huffed again, as if she regretted approving.
"Hmph… I thought you might have forgotten." Her tone grew sharper, laced with sarcasm that tried to hide the real reason behind the words. "Because of Kitagawa-san, of course. Since you two… seem so close lately. Who knows, maybe you went out yesterday and you forgot because you always do everything at the last minute, yet you lied to me earlier…"
Isagi closed his eyes for a moment.
"…No." He sighed, tired of the tension that only existed inside her head. "She only came to my house yesterday because she wanted to talk to my mom. About cosplay—remember I mentioned I was helping with that? Well, that's what happened."
The change in the air was instantaneous.
If before Alya had been radiating a cold reminiscent of a Siberian winter… now the temperature plummeted even further.
As if a full snowstorm had formed directly above her desk.
Her eyes widened for a split second—not from surprise, but from pure, childish hurt.
Her heart sank.
It was so obvious it hurt.
"…"
She bit her lip, looking away far too quickly, trying to keep the icy dignity she always pretended to have.
The glacial aura intensified; chills ran down the aisle, and even Isagi felt the back of his neck freeze.
In Russian, low and trembling, she let slip:
«Негодяй… отвратительный… мерзкий…»
("Scoundrel… disgusting… detestable…")
Her voice cracked toward the end, almost a sob. Her cheeks flushed bright red, the tip of her nose too.
And small, stubborn tears—far too hot for her pride—began gathering in the corners of her eyes.
She looked exactly like that: a sulky child. A girl who'd had her candy snatched away. A little sister watching the world praise her favorite brother while she was left behind. A girl in love who didn't know how to handle her own heart…
Isagi took a deep breath.
He really needed to find a way to improve her mood…
Isagi leaned slightly in his chair, opening his mouth to say something—anything—that might cut through the emotional ice Alya had built between them. He'd thought of a light comment, maybe telling her she was overreacting, or asking if she'd slept well… but none of the options seemed good enough to reach someone with teary eyes and wounded pride.
He inhaled, about to speak.
But he didn't get the chance.
RIIIIIIIING!!!
The bell for first period rang through the walls like a punch to the charged atmosphere between them.
Alya straightened instantly, as if an internal switch had been flipped. In the blink of an eye she wiped away the tears, swallowed every trace of emotion, and put on her usual mask: cold, dignified, flawless.
It was almost scary how good she was at it.
Posture perfect.
Eyebrows aligned.
Expression frozen in elegant neutrality.
When the classroom door slid open and the Japanese History teacher walked in, the contrast was so abrupt that even Isagi needed a second to adjust.
"Good morning, class. Open your books to page—"
She stopped.
On reflex.
Because her eyes met Alya's.
And for a fraction of a second, the woman shivered from head to toe.
Not because Alya was doing anything.
But because that overly cold, overly distant, overly serious gaze had the same effect as opening an industrial freezer in the middle of spring. It was like being stared down by an imperial Russian princess who had already decided she didn't like you.
The teacher blinked rapidly, tried to hide the shudder, and tapped her book against the desk to pull herself together.
"Page… one hundred thirty-six! Let's begin."
A few students exchanged glances.
Others stifled giggles.
Isagi just rubbed his face, already exhausted before class had even started.
Alya, for her part, kept her posture impeccable.
As if nothing had happened.
As if she hadn't spent the last five minutes calling him detestable in Russian while nearly crying.
As if she wasn't freezing the entire room out of jealousy.
But under the desk, well hidden where no one would see, her hand gripped the hem of her skirt far too tightly.
The "jealousy" storm was still there.
It had only been pushed behind her eyes.
And Isagi knew that, sooner or later… he would have to deal with it.
________________________
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