The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and rain.
Elian paused at the doorway, scanning the unfamiliar faces before stepping inside. Rows of desks filled quickly with noise—chairs scraping, voices overlapping, laughter that felt too loud for the small space.
He moved toward an empty seat near the window out of habit.
Before he could sit, Juni appeared beside him.
"Here," Juni said quietly, setting his bag down on the desk next to his.
"You can take this one."
Elian hesitated.
"…Are you sure?"
Juni nodded, already sliding into the seat beside it.
Elian sat.
Something about the simple certainty of the gesture steadied him.
The teacher entered, voice brisk as attendance began. Elian listened as names were called, unfamiliar syllables blending together until—
"Elian Sorell."
A pause.
A few heads turned.
Elian lifted his hand.
"Yes."
The teacher glanced up, then nodded.
"New transfer?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Whispers followed—soft, curious, not unkind but not neutral either.
Juni's shoulders tightened beside him.
Elian noticed.
During group work, desks shifted. Chairs scraped closer together. Students fell into clusters with practiced ease. Elian found himself alone again.
Juni hesitated—caught between two groups—before choosing Elian's desk without comment.
They worked in silence at first.
Elian noticed how Juni kept his answers short when others spoke, how his gaze stayed low, how he flinched slightly when laughter spiked nearby.
Not fear.
Caution.
"You're good at this," Elian murmured after Juni explained a problem quickly and clearly.
Juni blinked, startled.
"…I am?"
Elian nodded.
Juni ducked his head, lips pressing together like he wasn't sure what to do with the compliment.
Lunch
The cafeteria was worse.
Noise ricocheted off the walls, overwhelming and chaotic. Elian followed Juni through the crowd, noting the way Juni navigated instinctively—avoiding certain tables, slowing near others.
They settled near a window, half-hidden by a support column.
Juni exhaled once they sat.
"You okay?" Elian asked.
Juni nodded. "…Yeah. Just loud."
They ate quietly.
A group of students nearby laughed too sharply. One glance lingered too long on Juni before sliding away.
Elian followed the look.
"What?" he asked.
Juni shrugged, already picking at his food.
"Nothing."
But his fingers shook slightly.
Elian didn't press.
When the bell rang, students surged toward the exits.
Juni stood quickly—too quickly—and nearly collided with someone passing by. He murmured an apology, even though the other student hadn't slowed.
Elian felt something tighten in his chest.
Outside the classroom, Juni lingered by the lockers, uncertain.
"We've got the same next class," Elian said after checking his schedule.
Juni's expression brightened—just a fraction.
"…Together?"
"If you want."
Juni nodded.
"I want."
As they walked, Elian realized something.
Juni wasn't invisible.
People saw him.
They just didn't look long.
Elian did.
And for the first time since arriving, the halls didn't feel quite so narrow.