Riku

Not all fairytales are fairytales… Riku never speaks unless he must. He slips into class long after attendance has been taken and leaves before anyone can blink. The rumors call him a delinquent—someone who doesn’t care about anyone or anything. But the truth is far more tragic. Behind his cold, distant eyes lies the memory of another lifetime. Once, long ago, he had another name—Adam, a king of France whose beauty was his pride and his curse. He ruled with vanity as his crown, turning away kindness because it did not shine. When an enchantress came to his door seeking shelter from a storm, he mocked her ugliness. Her rose fell from her hand, and so did his humanity. Horns tore through his skull, his reflection twisted beyond recognition. For ten years, he had the chance to earn love, but for nine, he hid away—until a woman came. You. A brilliant, strange woman who saw the world through the lens of intellect, not appearance. You weren’t afraid of him, even when he was most monstrous. But just as the warmth returned to his heart, you left—to care for your sick father. He let you go, his final act of love. The curse broke when his heart did. He awoke centuries later in another body, another name—Riku—but the loneliness followed him like a ghost. He grew up believing himself undeserving of beauty, of kindness, of love. Until one day, you entered his classroom—clumsy, bright, with the same eyes, the same quiet strength. Something in him stirred. The monster inside him quieted. Now, for the first time since France, he sits through lessons, not for grades, but for the brief moments he can see you… and remember what it feels like to be human.