The rain hit the pavement like quiet drumbeats, a steady rhythm that seemed to slow time itself. The cold autumn air clung to every breath. October 10th.
Rikuto Academy's aged stone walls loomed against the gray sky, the familiar chatter of students muffled under umbrellas and the patter of footsteps.
Inside, Division 6's classroom was a mix of restless energy and lazy boredom. Sixteen students filled the room, some leaning back in their chairs, others tapping pens or staring out the window as the rain blurred the city beyond.
The teacher stood at the front, a figure that pulled attention without trying. His light blue hair, tousled like the sea on a stormy day, framed intense brown eyes that seemed to look right through you. His presence was magnetic — the kind that made you want to record and replay every word, every gesture.
"Alright, everyone," he said, voice calm but firm, "Class is starting. We've got a new arrival today."
All eyes flicked to the door just as it opened. A boy stepped inside, small frame hunched slightly against the chill, beanie pulled low and thick-rimmed glasses hiding sharp silver eyes. His purple hair peeked out in strands, wet from the rain.
The boy hesitated, then nodded. "Sorry I'm late." His voice was soft but carried a hint of something unreadable.
The teacher's gaze sharpened. "You must be Toma."
Toma nodded again, taking a seat at the back, keeping his beanie and glasses firmly on.
A few students immediately introduced themselves, their voices steady and clear.
One was a girl whose cheeks colored faintly as she spoke, eyes briefly meeting Toma's before darting away — a blush caught like a secret between them. Another boy slouched lazily, offering only a tired nod. Some just watched quietly, uninterested or maybe cautious.
Twenty minutes passed. The classroom felt smaller, the air thicker.
Then the door opened once more.
"Sorry I'm late," came a confident voice.
The room turned. A tall student stepped in, soaked from the rain, his dark hair plastered against his forehead. His eyes scanned the room and finally landed on the teacher.
"Keiji," the teacher said.
Toma's head snapped toward the newcomer, heart skipping. That name—Keiji—rang a bell buried deep beneath years and memories.
But Keiji didn't notice Toma. Not yet.