Loir stopped at the school gates and felt his stomach twist.
The iron bars were cold and tall, stretching upward like they were guarding a world he didn't belong to. The morning breeze carried the smell of wet pavement and chalk dust a smell that usually felt safe, but today only made the lump in his throat heavier.
Kids rushed past him, laughing, calling out each other's names as if they'd known each other for years. Their voices blended into a warm, bright noise, but Loir stood still in the middle of it, like a shadow everyone forgot to notice.
He pulled the strap of his faded backpack tighter over his shoulder. The fabric was fraying near the edges, threads sticking out like tiny little wounds.
Inside the classroom, sunlight spilled gently across the wooden desks, turning the dust in the air into floating golden specks. The teacher's smile was soft, the kind that usually calmed children's but the warmth didn't reach Loir. His heart beat too loudly.
When his turn came to speak, the room suddenly felt too small.
The walls seemed closer.
The air felt heavier.
His voice shook at first, then steadied.
"Hi… I'm Loir. I'm from Coventry."
And then, without understanding the storm he was about to unleash:
"I have two moms… no dad… and twenty brothers and sisters."
For a heartbeat, even the air refused to move.
Then came the laughter.
It crashed into him, sharp and loud not playful laughter, but the kind that cut straight through his chest. It echoed off the walls, bouncing inside his head long after it stopped. Loir swallowed hard, the back of his throat burning.
He looked around desperately, searching for just one face that didn't think he was a joke.
That's when he saw her.
Miza.
Her brown eyes didn't hold laughter she held confusion, curiosity… and something else. A softness. A quiet ache he didn't understand. While everyone else laughed, she looked at him like he was a puzzle she wanted to protect.
Loir's smile cracked not broken suddenly, but slowly, like glass giving way under pressure.