Chapter Text
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The classroom smelled faintly of floor cleaner and chalk dust. The windows were open, letting in a warm late-morning breeze that carried the distant scent of fried snacks from the canteen downstairs. Someone near the back had already stared laughing too loudly, and the scraping of chairs against tile echoed like restless energy that had nowhere to sit. It was the first day of eleventh grade. And Keen thrived in places like this.
"Mr. Jan is our homeroom teacher again, I swear if he gives us surprise quizzes this year-" someone said, completely defeated as he remembers the horror of monthly surprise test at normal Tuesdays, or after a long peaceful vacation.
"He will.." another voice added, even if the students dont want that. Mr. Jan had always done that, and it won't change. They know that, they had learnt it the hard way.
Keen laughed, amused by this little conversation. He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the desk behind him. His tie was already slightly loosened. A few classmates gathered around him without thinking. Like it was natural. But maybe it was. He wasn't trying to be the center. He just happened to be where things felt lively. And he doesn't complain about it either.
Someone nudged him. "Please help us this year too na Mr topper!!"
Keen rolled his eyes dramatically, making a slight annoyed face with a smile. "You guys at least pretend to try!!"
"Yes yes we'll buy you strawberry milk"
Keen finally relaxed his face, his smile grew bigger. "Ok deal na"
His friends groaned in defeat. But soon laughter followed. The sound filled his ears warmly. It was familiar, steady and safe. He liked the noise, the overlapping conversation and the constant movement. It felt alive. When the teacher walked in, the room didn't quiet down immediately. It dimmed slowly, like turning down volume instead of muting the TV. Keen straightened instinctively, posture falling into place, he was used to this rhythm.
Attendance began. Names were called in alphabetical order. And voices answered followed behind. Keen didn't think much of it until.
"Sea?"
There was a brief pause in the room. It wasn't loud nor dramatic. Just a shift. Keen's gaze lifted automatically. Staring at the new face behind him. It lasted maybe two seconds. Three at most.
A boy near the window. He wore white shirt neat and an unreadable expression. His hair slightly disturbed by the breeze drifting in through the open glass panels. It was nothing remarkable. Just another classmate.
The boy softly answered, "Yes, sir" voice low, and clear enough.
Keen registered it the same way he registered everyone else, they became new face, name and placement in the room for him to remember. A quiet habit of mapping his surroundings. He nodded faintly to himself, then turned back to the front before the next name was called.
Attendance continued. Chairs creaked, someone coughed. A pen dropped and rolled across the tile with a hollow clatter. And by the time Keen's own name was called, he answered with no hesitation. Voice steady and familiar in the room. A few heads turned reflexively. Some smiled. The rhythm resumed and Sea's name folded into the long list of others.
After attendance, Mr. Jan launched straight into announcements.
"Class president nominations will open next week. Please consider your choices carefully!"
A collective groan rose from the room. Keen rested his chin on his palm, half-listening. The fan above whirred lazily, pushing warm air in uneven circles. Sunlight crawled slowly across the tiled floor, inching towards the legs of desks. Someone behind him whispered, "It's going to be Keen again"
"Obviously."
Keen didn't turn around, but a faint smile tugged at his mouth. He wasn't aiming for it. But he knew how these things worked. Responsibility settled on him easily. Teachers trusted him, and classmates relied on him. It wasn't pressure exactly, but more like expectation. It had always been like that.
The bell rang for break. The room erupted back into noise instantly. Keen stood, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt pulled slightly at the waist; he adjusted it absentmindedly. A friend immediately hooked an arm around his shoulder.
"Canteen?"
"Let's go!"
As they stepped into the hallway, the scent of fried dough and sweet syrup thickened. The corridor was already crowded, voices overlapping in messy excitement. Shoes squeaked against polished tiles, lockers slammed shut, someone shouted from the staircase complaining about homeworks on the first day.
Keen moved easily through it all. A hand grabbed his sleeve, quick and natural. "Save me a seat!"
"Run faster then," he shot back, laughing.
Warm air pressed against his skin as they descended the stairs. The metal railing felt slightly cold under his palm. Outside, the courtyard shimmered under the late-morning sun. It was bright enough to make him squint for a second.
The canteen was chaos in its most predictable form. Plastic chairs scraped, bottle clinked. The fryer hissed loudly somewhere near the counter. A line had already formed, students were fanning themselves with notebooks while complaining dramatically. Keen joined the queue with his friends.
"You better not abandon us for student council again," someone teased, slightly nudging his arms to Keen's.
"I didn't abandon you," Keen replied lightly. "You just dont study." he added with a smug in his voice.
"Same thing.." his friend pouted, now clinging into Keen's arm completely. Laughter rippled again.
When it reached his turn, the counter aunty looked up and her face brightened instantly. "Regular order na?" she asked, already reaching for the familiar items. Keen smiled back, the kind that came easily. "Krub!" She shook her head fondly as she moved. Quick and practiced. "It's same the every day, even after so many years."
"Consistency is important na~" he replied with mock seriousness with a tiny smile. She handed him his usual, a plate of fried noodles and a small plastic cup of iced calamansi juice beading with condensation. The familiar smell rose immediately. Savory, warm and slightly oily. Comfort in edible form.
"Thank you, Aunty," he said, passing the money over.
"Study well this year too na!"
He nodded softly. Turning back to his friends, he lifted the tray slightly. "See? loyalty benefits." he proudly said.
"Bias!" some accused, dramatically pointing fingers. "She likes you too much!"
Keen just lightly shrugged his shoulders, a tiny smirk pasted on his face. They found their usual table near the courtyard's edge. Keen set the tray down. Steam curled upward, and delicious smell made his stomach growl immediately. He squeezed the tiny packet of chili sauce over the noodles without even looking.
Around them, the canteen buzzed. A group nearby argued over seating. Some dropped a spoon. The fryer hissed again. Heat pressed against his back, but the breeze drifting through the open side of the courtyard softened it just enough to breathe. He took his first bite. It was exactly how it always tasted. He didn't need to think about it. And that was comfort for him. Familiarity.
Keen was in mid-laugh, chopsticks suspended in the air as one of his friends dramatically reenacted Mr. Jan announcing surprise quizzes. The table shook slightly from someone hitting it too hard during the story. Keen almost dropped his cup. "Oi!" he complained. But soon, more laughter rose.
The noise wrapped around him easily. And somewhere across the canteen, near the wall where the sunlight didn't quite reach, someone stood holding a tray tightly, realizing there wasn't any obvious place to sit. His eyes scanned around the place, and stopped for a second longer than necessary at where Keen was seated.
Keen slurped another bite of the noodles, unaware. To him, it's just another break. Just another day.
Just another name folded into the classroom list.