Chapter Text
In the latter half of your third year in middle school, there is an empty seat to your left.
Naoki used to sit there and pass you notes with witty aphorisms and little doodles, but he moved away. Now all that’s left is a view of the school yard with no head to obstruct your vision. Your friends joke that you’ll miss Naoki’s big head blocking your view because they all think the two of you had something secret going on, which you neither confirm nor deny. Not because you two did have something going on, but because it usually worked in your favor to keep silent rather than divulge any concrete details.
It’s rather convenient, you think, that Naoki’s absence provides you with such nice scenery. Now it’s far easier to space out since you don’t have to avoid making eye contact with your classmate. You don’t miss him, but you keep that thought to yourself.
Unfortunately, the view is short-lived. What feels like not long after Naoki moves away, a new boy transfers into your class and fills the seat where Naoki previously sat.
You glance away from the falling leaves in the courtyard and turn to see the new student. He’s tall, and his mouth is drawn into a frown. “Zenin. Zenin Toji.” It seems that he is hard-pressed to confess his family name, ‘Zenin’ coming out with the same intonation as an expletive. His posture is relaxed and you think that there’s a scar on his mouth. Your teacher waits for him to say something, say anything else to introduce himself but Zenin Toji is silent. You turn back to stare outside the window.
Your teacher waits for another few seconds before nodding to your class, a tight smile on his lips. “Please welcome Zenin-kun to the class, everyone.” A polite smattering of applause is heard before your teacher directs Zenin Toji to sit down to the left of you. You’re not really paying attention to the scene playing out before you until the new student walks to the empty seat and sits in it.
You blink, your view now replaced with a head of shaggy black hair. Your teacher starts his lesson for today, but his droning voice is the least of your worries at the moment. After a few seconds, the boy known as Zenin Toji turns to you, dark green eyes hard with some indecipherable emotion.
“What?” His voice is gruff and upon closer inspection, there really is a scar on the side of his mouth. You frown and stare at him for a beat longer before sighing with a shake of your head. “What?” Zenin Toji repeats himself, and then you turn away.
He’s tall, so he obstructs your view of the courtyard even worse than Naoki ever could. You are back to staring ahead blankly.
During lunch, your classmates swarm around him, eager to learn about their new and mysterious classmate that “wore a scar on his lip the way someone would proudly wave a flag,” you recall Chiaki declaring. Chiaki always had a thing for tokusatsu villains.
You bring a spoonful of rice to your lips as you tune out the endless and eddying chatter of classmates, flocking around Zenin Toji the way pigeons pick at leftover bread.
“Wow, Toji-kun, how did you get that scar? It’s so cool,” you hear Mariya murmur as she leans against the new kid’s desk, her voice a degree higher than it usually is. Mariya is your friend because in grade school, she had taken candy from you and then proclaimed you her new best friend. You used to like playing at recess together, but now all she ever talked about was boys and how to make you and her other friends get into a relationship.
You don’t hear Zenin Toji’s response. Maybe it’s because his voice is soft, or maybe it’s because you’ve stopped listening altogether. You’re brought back into the moment when Mariya pushes a desk closer to yours and cups her hand against your ear. “I saw you talking to Toji-kun earlier… have you forgotten about poor Naoki?”
You give Mariya an incredulous look and she only giggles at your confused glare. “He’s cool. I think I like him,” she whispers as she gestures to Zenin Toji. You shrug, not sparing him an extra glance.
“You don’t even know anything about him,” you whisper in reply. Your voice is hushed because Mariya insists that you humor her whenever she’s feeling secretive, even if her secrets aren’t particularly interesting. She shrugs and sticks out her tongue dismissively. You make a face before turning your attention back to your lunch.
Mariya stands up and doesn’t move the desk next to you to where it originally was, so when she leaves, you have to push it back into place.
Lunch ends, and you put your bento away and turn your attention back to the front of the classroom. You sigh deeply through your nose.
You wonder how you’ll survive the rest of the year without the scenery outside the window.