Chapter Text
Third person POV
In the dark room, the faint sound of alarm was desperately trying to wake the young man awake. Despite it's efforts, it only got quietly shut down by the teen. The room's door slam open.
"Aai Keen. It's your first day! wake up" the old women yelled, she stood at the doorway, spatula in one hand and the other planted firmly on her hip.
. . .
Nothing can be heard, but just some faint whining. The mother shook her head, walking towards the windows and pulling the curtains. Finally letting the room shine.
The room was messy, more specifically it was the desk. There were piles of books, stacked on top of each other, few project papers lying on the ground. One large book stayed opened, clearly the reader intend to continue reading but stopped.
"Maa... just few minutes" Keen pleaded. Quickly covering himself with blankets.
"Oh? are you trying to bargain with me?" the woman questioned.
Within a second, Keen got up from the bed. Frantically making the bed, he smiled.
"No maa I could never." he sweetly said. Earning a smile from his mom.
"Good, breakfast is ready! come fast na" the woman nodded, softly closing the door behind.
Slowly the footsteps faded in the background and Keen dropped to his knees, completely tired from staying up late last night.
He yawned, as he forces himself to stand up and walk towards the bathroom.
.
.
.
The classroom bustled with students, with a few going out and in, dragging chairs, calling out names and laughing too loudly for a room that hasn't even finished filling up. Almost everyone seemed to know each other, despite it being the first day of 11th grade.
That was because the school had separated grades in sections for sophomore year, only to merge the old students together in 11th grade. The class was filled with familiar faces that one might see in the hallway passing, they were rearranged like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit the same way but still somehow worked.
Clusters formed easily. Some students reunited like they had only been apart for a weekend, others compared schedules, complained about teachers they haven't even met yet. The room felt alive, noisy and warm.
Among the loud buzzes, Sea sat quietly in the corner by the window.
His bag rested neatly beside his chair. He wasn't on his phone, nor was he trying to look busy. He simply sat there, watching the room calmly, almost as if he was zoning out from everything. The sunlight filtered in through the glass and landed softly on his desk.
People might mistake him for being a loner.
But it wasn't that. Most of his friends had transferred to different school. People come and go, he didn't complained much about it. It's just the way of life.
A few students glanced his way, hesitating as if considering whether to approach or not. But Sea met none of their eyes. Unbothered by all this mess, he leaned back his chair, gaze drifting out the window.
The sky was clear, impossibly blue and the breeze fluttered the curtains just enough to make the classroom feel less suffocating.
Until his attention was back snapped to the teacher, who just entered the class earning the students whines.
"Alright alright I'm Mr Jan, your homeroom teacher" the man introduced himself, smiling warmly to the students.
Mr. Jan clapped his hands together once, the sound cutting through the chatter and gathering the attention of the students.
"Ok enough talking! we'll start with attendance in a moment."
Chairs scraped against the floor as students adjusted themselves, some siting straighter, giving their full attention to the teacher, while others still leaning toward their friends, whispering last comments before silence was expected. The room slowly calmed down, the noise thinning into something manageable, something distant.
Sea barely reached. His body leaned back, fingers resting loosely on the edge of his desk, gaze drifting back towards the window as if pulled by habit. Outside, the branches of a tree swayed gently, leaves catching the sunlight before letting it slip through. The curtain fluttered with the breeze, brushing against the glass in soft, irregular motions.
It was free, unaware and moving on it's own.
Inside, Sea stayed still. He heard the teacher shuffle papers, heard the pause before names being called, before voices would answer and identities would be confirm out loud. He knew his name would come eventually, but still he didn't look forward. He continued to glaze the nature and feel the comfort of wind softly blowing away his worries.
"Sea?" Mr. Jan called out, pulling Sea out from his little world.
The name reached him before the rest of the room did.
For a brief second, he didn't moved. The curtain stayed still, the sky lost it's pull. Slowly, Sea turned, blinking as the classroom reshaped itself round him. He glanced around the sea of new faces, before pausing his gaze at one direction, more important one person.
"Yes," he answered, the word coming out softer than he intended. He cleared his throat and corrected himself quickly. "Yes, sir."
Mr. Jan nodded, pen scratching against the paper. And just like that, Sea's attendance was over.
He settled back into his seat, shoulder relaxing but eyes no longer on the window. Instead, they lingered where they shouldn't have, on the back of that same person, now fully turned away from him. The moment stretched, quiet and unclaimed, before Sea finally looked elsewhere.
The classroom settled back into itself, voices rising again in low murmurs as Mr. Jan continued down the list. Name were called, answers followed. All the normal stuffs.
Sea sat still, hands folded loosely on his desk, he let his eyes drift forward. Unfocused, though the image of the certain person lingered behind his thoughts.
After all this time, after years of passing glances in hallways and shared spaces that never really aligned. They were here. In the same room, sharing the same space. They were close enough to feel the presence, yet still far enough to start anything.
Sea let out a slow breath. He didn't feel excitement, nor relief. Just quiet, unsettling awareness. One that settled deep and stayed. The kind that came from knowing something long buried had been dug up, whether he was ready for it or not.
Who would have thought, he thought, gaze lowering to the grain of his desk. That I'd meet him this year..
The bell hadn't rung yet. The introductions weren't over.
But something had already begun to shift.