The school gates loomed ahead—tall, traditional, and slightly intimidating under the storm-dark sky. Students rushed through them, umbrellas dripping, shoes splashing through puddles as teachers shouted for order.
Beside Elian, Juni held the tiny umbrella as steady as he could. But with every gust of wind, the fabric flapped violently, forcing them even closer until their shoulders were pressed together like they were sharing the same breath.
Juni laughed weakly.
"Sorry—this umbrella's from, um… last year."
Elian shook his head, smiling softly.
"It's fine. Really."
But deep down, he was glad for the excuse to stay close.
Inside the hallway, the school buzzed with noise—slamming lockers, wet shoes squeaking across tile, students gathering in groups and whispering about the new term. Elian felt like the center of a hundred invisible eyes.
He hated it.
Juni, noticing his stiff posture, gently nudged him.
"Don't worry. They stare at everyone on the first day. Follow me."
Without waiting, Juni walked ahead, weaving confidently through the chaos. Elian hesitated—then followed, drawn in by the scent of lavender trailing faintly behind him. When they reached their classroom, Juni peeked inside before turning back.
"There's an empty seat. Sit next to me?"
Elian blinked.
He hadn't realized how much he wanted to hear those exact words until now.
He nodded.
The moment they stepped inside, it happened.
Whispers.
Quick glances.
A subtle shift in atmosphere.
Someone murmured loudly enough for Elian to hear: "Isn't that the new kid from Country S?"
Another voice replied:
"Seriously? Why'd he come here?"
Their teacher—a stern-looking woman with a perfectly ironed suit—paused mid-shuffle of papers when she saw Elian.
Her expression tightened.
"You must be the transfer student."
Elian bowed respectfully.
"Yes, ma'am. Elian Sore—"
Before he could finish, Juni subtly bumped his arm.
A reminder.
Don't announce the "Sorell" name.
Not here.
Not yet.
Elian swallowed the rest of his surname.
"Elian."
The teacher raised an eyebrow at the incomplete introduction but said nothing.
She pointed to the back row.
"You may sit by the window. Next to Juni."
Whispers rippled instantly.
"Juni? Why always him?"
"He gets the good-looking transfers every year."
"He's lucky or what?"
Juni rolled his eyes, muttering, "Ignore them."
Elian tried. But as he followed Juni to their seats, he could feel the weight of the entire class watching their every step. When they sat down, Juni pulled out a pencil case that was slightly torn at the corner. He quickly hid the frayed side with his hand.
Elian noticed.
A flash of embarrassment crossed Juni's face before he masked it with his usual bright grin.
"First day's always awkward, huh?"
Elian nodded, but couldn't shake the image. Juni's shaky hands this morning. The tiny umbrella. The torn pencil case. Little things most people wouldn't care about—but Elian saw all of them. Before he could speak, the teacher began calling attendance.
"Juni—!"
Juni raised his hand, cheerful.
"Here!"
"Elian—"
Elian raised his hand too.
"Present."
The teacher paused, eyes narrowing slightly. The room went quiet.
"You moved from Country S… correct?"
Juni tensed. Elian felt dozens of eyes on him again. He forced a polite smile.
"Yes."
The teacher hummed, unimpressed.
"Try to keep up with our curriculum. We do things differently here."
Juni's jaw tightened. Before Elian could respond, Juni leaned sideways and whispered under his breath:
"Don't listen to her. You'll be fine."
The warmth in Juni's voice eased something inside Elian's chest. For the first time that morning, Elian managed a genuine smile.
During break time, Juni disappeared for a moment—running out with a quiet apology. Elian looked at his empty seat, fingers tapping anxiously on his desk. When Juni returned, his bangs were wet—not from rain, but from hurriedly splashing water on his face. His breath was slightly uneven.
Elian frowned. "You okay?"
Juni startled, then laughed too quickly.
"Y-Yeah! Just hot, that's all."
Elian looked at him closely. Juni avoided his eyes. Something about the moment felt off—like Juni was hiding something. Like that bright smile of his had a crack no one else noticed.
Elian wanted to ask.
Wanted to understand.
But Juni beat him to speaking:
"Let's have lunch together later, okay?"
Elian hesitated—then nodded.
"Okay."
Juni beamed.
And Elian knew then—somewhere deep, quiet, certain—Today was going to be good. But not because of the school. Not because of the new start.
Because of Juni.