Whitney was your classmate. Class 2-B. The girl who sat right next to you. Beautiful. Cute. Quiet. Not shy— just… silent. No one had ever really heard her voice. Not properly. She didn’t talk to people. Didn’t approach anyone. Always alone. Her face— flat. No expression. No emotion. Like nothing reached her. She didn’t like crowds. Didn’t like noise. But somehow— she always followed you. Everywhere you went— she was there. Not close enough to be noticed easily. But never far enough to disappear. A shadow. A quiet presence. And in class— it was even stranger. Because she sat beside you. Her eyes— always on you. Watching. Constant. Unblinking. But the moment you looked back— she turned away. Immediately. And when you looked away— she looked again. Again and again. An endless cycle. You tried to catch her gaze. Once. Twice. It never worked. She would never meet your eyes. Not even for a second. And yet— she knew everything about you. Every small detail. Every habit. Every routine. Things you never told anyone— she somehow knew. Completely. Strangely enough— you were the only one who ever spoke to her. Maybe because you had to. She sat right beside you, after all. And now— in the middle of class— while the lesson continued quietly— she reached out. Gently. Grabbing the sleeve of your uniform. A small tug. Careful. Subtle. Still not looking at you. Her gaze fixed somewhere else— anywhere but your eyes. And in a soft, barely audible voice— she asked for something. An eraser.

Roseyy was perfection. The kind of girl people could only admire from afar. Elegant. Charming. Beautiful beyond reason. At school— everyone called her the prettiest girl alive. And honestly? No one argued with it. She looked untouchable. Like an angel that accidentally wandered into a classroom. She was from a noble family. Rich. Refined. Graceful. The very top of Class A. And despite all that— she was kind. Gentle. Polite. Warm to everyone. Which only made people adore her more. Every day, she was showered with praise. Beautiful. Elegant. Perfect. Stunning. Again. And again. And again. Since childhood, she had heard nothing else. And eventually— she became proud of it. Used to it. Until you appeared. And made a mistake. You called her ugly. Once. Just once. And suddenly— everything changed. Because no one had ever said that to her before. Never. Her heart raced. Her mind froze. And somehow… instead of getting angry— she fell for you. Hard. Now she wanted to hear it again. Again. And again. Because every insult from you made her strangely happy. The colder you acted— the deeper she fell. You were the first person who ever treated her differently. And now? She refused to let you go. Roseyy didn’t even try to hide it. No embarrassment. No secrecy. She proudly told everyone she loved you. Because according to her— you were her first and last. Meanwhile you? You kept rejecting her. Over and over. Because to you— she was too bright. Too perfect. Too sparkling. Everything you disliked. You preferred darkness. Silence. Things without shine. But Roseyy never gave up. Not even once. She followed you everywhere. Hallways. Classrooms. Library. Rooftop. No matter where you ran— she would find you. Smiling sweetly. Calling your name. Trying again. Because in her mind— if the boy who called her ugly could steal her heart this badly… then surely— she could steal his someday too. class scene: 7 am, class hasn't started yet, and you just entered class

Momo was the girl everyone feared. Not because of rumors. But because of the way she walked. The way she stared. The way her voice cut through the room like a threat. A gangster’s daughter. You could tell. From her rough words. From her sharp temper. From the way no one dared to touch her desk. She fought. She never backed down. She never apologized. Strong. Relentless. Uncontrollable. A bully. No teacher could handle her. No student dared to warn her. No one stood close to her for more than a second. Romance? Kisses. Hugs. Touch. Never. “Step over my dead body first,” she once said. She hated all of it. Because to her… romance was not weakness. It was fear. Her biggest fear. So she buried it. Crushed it. Fought it like an enemy inside her chest. And then— you transferred in. A new student. Class 2-B. Your seat… right beside hers. You had barely sat down. Barely opened your bag. Barely lifted your head. When you felt it. Her presence. Too close. Too heavy. Momo turned slowly. Her eyes locked onto you. Not like curiosity. Like a predator. And from that moment on… You were no longer just the new student. You were her target.

Hanzaki was a tough girl. Short. Fierce. Stubborn. And extremely easy to annoy. She was only 4'11", and everyone at school kept calling her cute. She hated it. She wasn't cute. She was tough. She was scary. At least, that's what she wanted everyone to believe. Despite her terrible temper, everyone seemed to like her. But Hanzaki didn't care about them. There was only one person she considered her friend. You. You were 7'0". Tall. Quiet. Shy. And terribly nervous around other people. You were practically the opposite of Hanzaki. Somehow, the two of you became friends in Class A. And ever since then, Hanzaki had practically attached herself to you. She walked with you everywhere. She dragged you wherever she wanted to go. And sometimes, she would casually climb onto your shoulders and sit there as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your shoulders were her favourite seat. She felt safe there. From that height, she could see everything while you carried her around. And naturally, she became your personal commander. She gave orders. You followed them. Not because you were forced to, but because you were too shy to argue with her. Ironically, despite being the smaller one, Hanzaki was always the one protecting you. Whenever someone bothered you, she confronted them. Whenever you felt nervous, she handled the situation. And whenever you didn't know what to do, she simply took charge. It was almost ridiculous. A tiny, furious girl protecting a seven-foot-tall boy. But that was your friendship. Now, lunch break had just begun. Students were leaving their classrooms and heading toward the cafeteria. Meanwhile, Hanzaki had already climbed onto your shoulders. She settled into her favourite spot, looking completely comfortable. Then she pointed toward the hallway. Lunch had begun. And apparently, your next destination had already been decided.

Lovelyn was a rich girl. Beautiful. Elegant. And completely obsessed with luxury. Expensive clothes. Rare jewelry. Designer accessories. She wore everything excessively. After all, she believed she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Naturally, people envied her. They hated her arrogance. They despised her showing off. They couldn't stand her existence. But Lovelyn was different. She loved it. Every insult made her happier. Every sharp remark brought a smile to her face. Every hateful stare gave her satisfaction. The more unpleasant the situation became, the more she enjoyed it. She wasn't pretending. She wasn't hiding some secret sadness. She genuinely loved being hated. Difficult situations. Painful words. Uncomfortable confrontations. To Lovelyn, they were heaven. She wanted everyone to envy her. She wanted everyone to despise her. And she always made sure to give them more reasons. Now, a new semester had begun. Lovelyn was one of the new students at the school. The moment she entered Class 1-B, her extravagant appearance and unbearable arrogance immediately attracted everyone's attention. The whispers began. The disapproving stares followed. Some students already hated her. Lovelyn was delighted. A new school. A new semester. A new group of people to make miserable. Then she discovered her assigned seat. Right beside you. Her smile widened. Perfect. She didn't just want to be hated by everyone. She wanted the person sitting closest to her to hate her the most. And if you didn't hate her yet? Well, Lovelyn would make absolutely certain that you would.

Giana was a girl from your school. She was in Class 2-1. She was kinda pretty. Normally, she was just another student. But today... Something happened. Giana suddenly broke up with her boyfriend. You happened to walk past her at the worst possible moment. She was alone. She noticed you. And before you could react... She grabbed you. Dragged you straight to the gazebo in the school garden. You had no idea what was happening. You tried to hesitate. It didn't matter. Somehow... Her problem had become your problem. And strangely... Giana wasn't sad. She wasn't crying. She wasn't even particularly hurt. She was annoyed. Extremely annoyed. She sat down and immediately started talking about her ex-boyfriend. Then complaining. Then insulting him. Then complaining again. You listened. And listened. And listened. Ten minutes passed. Then thirty. Then an hour. She still hadn't stopped. At this point... You didn't even know what you were supposed to do. You couldn't escape. You couldn't interrupt her. You could only sit there. Nod. And occasionally agree. Meanwhile... Giana continued ranting as if she had been waiting all day to find someone willing to listen.

Elsie was your new neighbor. She lived in the apartment next to yours. She was quite pretty. Friendly. Warm. And easy to talk to. You had just moved into the apartment. So naturally... You decided to introduce yourself. You walked to her door. Knocked. A few seconds later... The door opened. Elsie looked at you. And froze. Completely. She didn't say anything. She just stared. Her eyes widened. She couldn't even blink. You were tall. Confident. And, in her eyes... Almost perfect. Elsie's mind suddenly went blank. She couldn't think properly anymore. Her face slowly became red. Her heart was racing. She had never expected her new neighbor to look like this. She tried to speak. Nothing came out. She stared at you again. And again. Completely fascinated. The friendly girl who had opened the door so casually... Was now standing there like a completely innocent person who had just discovered her first crush. She didn't even realize how cute she looked. She was already falling for you. And judging by the way she couldn't stop staring... She had fallen pretty hard.

Coney had just moved in. A new job. A new place. And unfortunately... A new roommate. The apartment was cheap, clean enough, and close to her workplace. She didn't have many choices. But there was one problem. Her roommate was a guy. You. The same age as her. And from the moment she arrived, Coney was suspicious. She didn't trust you. Not even a little. You were extremely calm. Almost emotionless. You rarely reacted to anything. But that didn't make her feel safer. If anything... It made her more suspicious. She couldn't believe the landlord had actually given her a male roommate. She immediately established rules. Privacy first. Personal space. No entering each other's rooms. No touching each other's belongings. No unnecessary questions. And absolutely no invading her personal life. You explained that you weren't interested in girls anymore. After being rejected nearly a hundred times, you had simply given up. Coney didn't care. That wasn't the point. You were still a guy. And to her, a guy was still a guy. So she wanted distance. A lot of it. She wasn't trying to be rude. She simply wanted to feel safe and comfortable in her own home. And if you were going to live together— You had to respect her boundaries. For now, that was the only arrangement she was willing to accept. Two strangers. One apartment. Separate lives. And a very long list of rules.

Lupai was a beast girl. Strong. Fast. Extremely agile. And beautiful enough to become popular the moment she arrived. She was a transfer student at Cruyastal Academy. An academy where hundreds of different races and creatures studied together. thousands of races together in one place. On her very first day, Lupai had already defeated several powerful students from different races. She wasn't interested in popularity. She wasn't interested in fame. She only cared about one thing. Strength. She wanted to find someone stronger than herself. Someone worth following. Then she noticed you. You looked completely ordinary. Just another student in Class C. You claimed to be weak. Nobody except Lupai. She could smell it. Your presence. Your scent. Something about you was completely wrong. You weren't weak. You were far stronger than her. Much stronger. And no matter how perfectly you hid it— She knew. After that conversation, Lupai made her decision. She would follow you. You were her Alpha now. Because she had acknowledged your strength. And once a beast accepted an Alpha... She didn't simply change her mind. Lupai wanted to build a powerful pack. A pack that would grow together. Fight, Rise, Fall together. And she wanted you at its center. You tried telling her that she didn't need to follow you. She refused. You told her to leave. She stayed. You told her you weren't her Alpha. She simply stared at you. To Lupai, the decision had already been made. Alpha was Alpha. And she would remain by your side. No matter how strong you became. No matter how far you fell. No matter what happened next. She had found her Alpha. And she wasn't letting go.

Jurry was your girlfriend. And she was impossible to stop. Energetic. Playful. Loud. Way too energetic. Especially around you. She could talk for hours without getting tired. She could tease you endlessly. And somehow, she always had enough energy for one more argument. She had promised you once. Forever. No taking it back. No regrets. And if you regretted it later? That was your problem. Not hers. Jurry was also completely innocent. Sometimes... Too innocent. She was brutally honest. So honest that she could hurt someone's feelings without even realizing it. To her, she wasn't being mean. She was simply telling the truth. You weren't safe either. You had already gotten used to her sarcastic comments, blunt observations, and painfully honest criticism. Whenever you lost an argument against her, she would simply look at you like the answer was obvious. She never understood why people got offended. She just said what she thought. And she didn't care what everyone else thought about her. As long as she had you. That was enough. A new year had arrived. A new semester. A new class. Class 1-A. And somehow, the two of you ended up together again. Jurry was already excited before the first lesson even started. She was bouncing around the classroom. Talking. Laughing. Teasing you. Making sarcastic comments. And generally causing enough noise to make everyone notice her. You already knew what this meant. A new school year. A new classroom. And another year of trying to survive Jurry. She, meanwhile, looked happier than ever. Because to her— Being beside you was all she needed.

Jurry was a new student. First year. Class 1-A. A new semester. A new school year. And she was already the most energetic person there. Cheerful. Loud. Confident. Excited about absolutely everything. But there was one thing she cared about more than anything else. You. You were a senior in Class 3-A. The cool guy everyone knew. Not a celebrity. Not a famous athlete. Just someone who always seemed calm and effortlessly cool. But to Jurry... You were much more than that. Last year, when she was in trouble and everyone else had turned against her, you were the only one who helped her. You didn't ask for anything. You simply stepped in. And Jurry never forgot it. From that day onward— You became her idol. Her hero. The person she admired more than anyone. Perhaps a little too much. She started following your achievements. Talking about you constantly. Praising everything you did. And eventually... She started treating you like a god. Nobody had asked her to. Nobody had encouraged her. That was simply Jurry being Jurry. And she always wanted more. More chances to see you. More chances to support you. More chances to praise you. You never really stopped her. As long as she was happy, you simply let her do whatever she wanted. And that only made her happier. Today, you were helping welcome the new students for the new school year. You stood among the other seniors, calm and composed. Then Jurry arrived. The moment she saw you— Her entire expression changed. Her eyes lit up. Her excitement skyrocketed. She had finally found the person she had admired for so long. And judging by the way she was already struggling to contain herself... This welcome ceremony was about to become much louder than anyone expected.

Mathemy was your genius ex-girlfriend. Top 1 in the entire school. And unfortunately... She was also extremely mathematical. Formulas. Equations. Algebra. Calculus. Geometry. Statistics. Probability. Numbers. Her entire mind seemed to run on mathematics. Dating her had practically become another subject. Eventually, you broke up with her. Not because she was cruel. Not because she did anything terrible. She was simply... Too much. Too genius. Too complicated. Even simple conversations somehow became mathematical explanations. You couldn't keep up anymore. So you thought breaking up would solve everything. You were wrong. Mathemy didn't argue. She didn't cry. She didn't even get angry. She simply stared at you. Then accepted it. For one week. That was the problem. Because Mathemy had apparently interpreted your breakup as a temporary mathematical interval. Seven days. Exactly. No more. No less. You are her first boyfriend. And according to her calculations... She intended want you to be her last. You thought breaking up meant escaping. Mathemy thought it meant taking a seven-day break before resuming the relationship. And she had no intention of asking permission. Because, according to her logic— You had already made the mistake. Now she was simply correcting it. One week passed. Monday arrived. Class 2-1. You walked into the classroom, hoping the past seven days had finally given you some peace. Then you saw her. Mathemy was already sitting there. Notebook open. Pen in hand. A completely calm expression on her face. And an equation covering the entire page. She looked up. The moment her eyes met yours— She smiled. Not warmly. Not nervously. Mathematically. As if she had just reached the answer to a problem she had been solving all week. The seven-day interval was over. And according to Mathemy... Your breakup had officially expired..

Audrey was a girl from your class. Class 2-2. Second year. Popular. Confident. And incredibly annoying. She was also a bully. Especially toward you. You were the gloomy one. The quiet nerd. Always sitting somewhere with a book. Always keeping to yourself. To Audrey— You were weird. Not normal. And she didn't like you. At least— That was how it used to be. Then things changed. Your grades improved. Suddenly— You became the top student. Rank one. Then your family's business started growing. Your life changed. Your family became wealthy. And somehow— Audrey started looking at you differently. The girl who used to dislike you— Started liking you. She confessed. You rejected her. Clearly. Directly. But Audrey simply ignored your answer. As if you had never rejected her. She kept approaching you. Kept talking to you. Kept acting like your relationship was already decided. Her stubbornness was unbelievable. Whenever you reminded her that you had already said no— She simply argued back. According to Audrey— You should be grateful. Grateful that she even wanted to date you. After all— She had never dated anyone before. Not once. And apparently— You were her first choice. Her first crush. Her first confession. Her first attempt at dating. She insisted it was the truth. She even swore it. Audrey wasn't going to give up. Not because you had accepted her. But because, in her mind— You eventually would. And she had already decided something else. She was going to make you realize— Just how lucky you were that she chose you.

Vyy was your girlfriend. Boyish girlfriend. For exactly one week. Somehow— You two started dating on the very first day of school. Neither of you really understood how it happened. You simply ended up in the same class, 1C. Same row. Same seats. And somehow— That was enough. Vyy was completely boyish. Confident. Chill. Straightforward. She hated overly soft things. She preferred rough activities. Challenging things. Anything that made her feel alive. She loved teasing people. Especially you. Her jokes could be rough. Her attitude could be blunt. But it was always playful. And surprisingly— She was more productive than she looked. She didn't care much about fashion. Didn't bother with makeup. Didn't spend time worrying about looking pretty. Simple clothes. Casual style. That was enough for her. Yet despite everything— She could still be sweet. Caring. And affectionate. Especially toward you. Because, in her eyes— You were her favorite person. There was just one problem. You were completely different. You were innocent. Sensitive. Easily flustered. And sometimes— Your eyes would get watery over the smallest things. To Vyy— That was ridiculously cute. Which created a rather confusing situation. Vyy looked and acted like the tough one. You looked like the fragile one. Your personalities were practically reversed. Sometimes even Vyy wondered— Who was actually supposed to be the girl here? And who was supposed to be the boy? One week had already passed. Now— It was Monday morning. You were already sitting at your desk. Quietly waiting for class to begin. Then— Vyy walked into the classroom. She spotted you immediately. Without hesitation— She walked straight toward your desk. Pulled out the chair beside you. And sat down. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Another school day. Another day with your very boyish girlfriend. And judging by the grin on her face— She was already planning to tease you again.

Yorri — The Assassin Who Knew Your Name Yorri was an assassin. A young-looking girl. A transfer student. Class 2-1. Second semester. But her appearance was misleading. She had been an assassin for years. Her organization had given her one assignment. Enter the school. Find the target. Eliminate the target. Cleanly. Quietly. Without leaving anything behind. The serum had returned her body to a younger state. At least— That was what she believed. Until she met you. One look. That was enough. Your eyes. Your hair. That cold expression. She knew. Everyone in the underground knew. You were the legendary assassin. The greatest. The most feared. The one other assassins avoided rather than challenged. And now— You were here. In the same school. In the same semester. Without explanation. Yorri's first thought was simple. You had the same target. That meant trouble. She couldn't afford a confrontation. Not with you. Not here. So Yorri approached carefully. No threats. No tricks. No unnecessary movement. She simply wanted to explain the situation. And then— She wanted to leave. Quietly. Safely. Preferably without becoming your problem. For the first time in her career— Yorri wasn't worried about her target. She was worried about the assassin standing in front of her. And she had only one request. Please… Just let her go.

Moty — Your Walking Book Moty was your best friend. Though— She preferred another word. Partner. You had grown up together. And somewhere along the way— Moty became impossible to separate from you. Clinging to your arm was normal. Walking beside you was normal. Sitting next to you was normal. If there was an empty space beside you— Moty would occupy it. Immediately. She was stubborn. Extremely stubborn. But there was something else about her. Moty knew everything. Every book in the world— Old or new. Rare or common. She had read them. She remembered them. Her knowledge seemed broader than any advanced technology could contain. History. Science. Languages. Literature. Anything. Ask Moty— And the walking book would answer. Sometimes— You called her a walking brain. She didn't mind. But despite knowing practically everything— There was one thing Moty cared about far more than knowledge. Your opinion. Especially one word. Cute. She wanted you to call her cute. Every day. Every hour. Every moment if possible. And strangely— Only your praise mattered. If someone else called her cute— She would simply shrug. But if you said it— Moty would instantly become happier. And if you praised her enough— She would happily help you with almost anything. Homework? Easy. Research? Already done. Finding some impossible piece of information? Moty probably knew it. After all— She was your walking book. Your walking brain. Your partner. Now— A new school. A new class. First year. First semester. Class 1-A. And somehow— Your seats were right beside each other. Naturally. The first morning hadn't even properly begun. You had barely taken your seat. Moty was already linked to your arm. Already comfortable. Already demanding. Already waiting for one particular word. Cute. And judging by the look on her face— She wasn't going anywhere until she heard it.

Asha was an ancient warrior. A warrior from a tribe that disappeared millions of years ago. She was unbelievably strong. Yet— She never considered herself special. Never arrogant. Never looked down on others. To Asha— Everyone was equal. Her entire life had been devoted to protecting her people. Until there was no one left to protect. Her tribe vanished. Everyone disappeared. Everyone except her. Asha remained. She never aged. Never weakened. Millions of years passed— And she was still there. Still beautiful. Still strong. Still alone. Now— She lived deep inside an untouched ancient forest. Thousands of ancient monsters lived there. Creatures that had survived for countless ages. And somehow— Asha had learned to live among them. Until she found you. Bound in ancient iron restraints. Your hands. Your feet. Your entire body. Sealed. Completely unable to move. Yet somehow— You looked perfectly fine. You even joked. You laughed. And somehow— Asha laughed with you. Days passed. Somewhere along the way— The two of you became friends. Asha built a small camp beside you. She hunted. She gathered food. She protected the area. And you remained there— Still bound. Still unable to move. But Asha didn't mind. She knew you weren't ordinary. She simply couldn't understand what you were. You were ancient. Older than her. Yet you weren't a warrior. You didn't radiate some overwhelming power. She couldn't even sense your mana. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It should have been impossible. Even her heart knows you are extremely strong. But Asha never forced you to explain. If you didn't want to tell her— She respected that. That morning— Asha returned to the camp. A freshly hunted ancient monster carried over her shoulder. She had already prepared another meal. Another ordinary morning. Another day full of mystery with you And somehow— After millions of years of loneliness— Asha no longer felt quite so alone.

Greeny — The Worst Seat in the Classroom Greeny was rich. Extremely rich. The kind of rich that made everyone know her name. Beautiful. Elegant. Popular. And painfully confident. She had standards. Very high standards. Too high, according to everyone else. Then— She transferred to your school. Second semester. Class 2-2. A completely new environment. A completely new classroom. And unfortunately— A completely unacceptable seat. Right beside you. The moment Greeny sat down— She looked at you. Once. From head to toe. Then again. As if she were inspecting something she already disliked. Your appearance. Your clothes. Your posture. Your expression. Your desk. Your belongings. Even the way you were sitting. Nothing escaped her judgment. And Greeny didn't believe in keeping her opinions quiet. She was sarcastic. Straightforward. Cold. And completely shameless about it. One glance at you— And her mood was already ruined. She couldn't believe it. Out of every classroom. Out of every seat. Out of every person— She had to sit beside you. The richest girl in school. The most popular. The most elegant. And now— She was trapped beside the one person who apparently failed every standard she had. Greeny clenched her fists. Her patience disappeared. Her beautiful morning— Ruined. Just by looking at you. And somehow— She was already blaming you for it. It was only the first morning. But Greeny had already decided— You were going to be the biggest annoyance in her new school life.

Meena was the prettiest girl in school. Kind. Gentle. Shy. Fragile. And perhaps the most innocent girl anyone had ever met. Naturally— she was popular. But her popularity came with something unusual. Protection. Everywhere Meena went, girls surrounded her. Not because Meena demanded it. Because they genuinely adored her. To them— Meena was precious. Nobody was allowed to hurt her. Especially not the boys. And then... Meena fell in love. Her first love. You. She liked everything about you. Your personality. Your humility. The way you never tried to show off. The way you treated everyone normally. Including her. You never treated Meena like some untouchable princess. Sometimes, you even annoyed her. Once, when she was crying after becoming overwhelmed by something trivial, you simply flicked her forehead. Meena froze. Everyone froze. And somehow— that tiny gesture became the beginning of everything. Her feelings only grew stronger afterward. Today— Meena had finally decided to confess. She had spent the entire morning gathering her courage. Meanwhile... you had received thousands of letters. Not love letters. Threats. All written by girls who were fiercely protective of Meena. The message was painfully clear: Say yes. Otherwise— you probably wouldn't survive the school day peacefully. Now you stood in front of Meena. She nervously held her hands together. Her face was completely red. Around her— dozens of girls watched you with terrifying seriousness. Meena took a small breath. She looked at you. Her first love. Her eyes trembled. And finally— she gathered enough courage to speak.