The classroom was louder than usual. Desks scraped as groups gathered into their corners, clutching printouts, laptops, and a mutual dread for public speaking.
Yuuji Aikawa stood in front of the whiteboard, posture straight, papers neatly stacked in hand. The Perfectionists were set to present third. That gave them roughly fifteen minutes to simmer in collective anxiety.
"Don't forget to project confidence," Ian said, tapping at his tablet.
"Don't forget not to sound like a GPS," Rio added, adjusting his uniform with flair.
Will chuckled nervously. "We'll do fine."
Ren leaned back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head. "Honestly? I think we're about to wipe the floor."
Yuuji narrowed his eyes. "Stop jinxing us."
"Oh? You scared?" Ren teased, brushing a thumb across Yuuji's wrist with feigned innocence.
Yuuji stepped away too quickly, ignoring the way his pulse betrayed him.
---
Two groups presented before them. The second one—the so-called Elite Clique—delivered a polished, high-speed presentation full of technical terms and flashy transitions.
When they finished, the room erupted into mild applause, and Akira bowed with his trademark smugness.
"Good luck following that," Akira murmured to Yuuji as he passed.
Yuuji stiffened. Ren, behind him, cracked his knuckles with an ominous smile.
"Oh, we'll follow," Ren said. "Just try and keep up."
---
Presentation Start: The Perfectionists
Ren opened, surprisingly composed.
"We approached the theme of Cultural Identity and Gender Expectations by comparing historical constructs of masculinity in Japan with contemporary portrayals in both Japanese and Western media."
Ian followed smoothly, laying out statistics on gender representation and psychological effects in teenage demographics. Kenji held up printed illustrations—striking contrasts between traditional samurai depictions and modern pop culture figures.
Then it was Yuuji's turn.
He spoke clearly, walking the class through the social pressures faced by young men, the impact of silent expectations, and the unspoken consequences of rigid gender roles.
"And in some cases," Yuuji concluded, "vulnerability is punished before it can even be expressed."
His voice rang out across the quiet room.
Rio added the final blow. "If you're still asking 'what is masculinity,' maybe the question should be why it matters so much to define it in the first place."
Silence.
And then—the first round of clapping came from Will. Then Kenji. Then the room followed.
Even Akira, at the back, didn't clap. But he wasn't smirking either.
---
But of course, the drama never waited long.
Chiyo Arakawa raised her hand. "Your presentation was emotionally compelling, but aren't you reducing identity into generalized pop-culture sentiments?"
Yuuji stepped forward. "Our argument is grounded in emotional relatability and data."
Akira smirked. "Still. Isn't it dangerously subjective to rely on—"
"Danger is kind of the point," Ren cut in, tone sharp. "When expression is policed, identity becomes survival."
His voice was colder than usual. Yuuji blinked.
And for the first time, Ren didn't look smug.
He looked serious.
"I'm not sure if you've lived it," Ren said to the room. "But for people like us, the world doesn't give us clean boxes. We learn to exist between lines others refuse to draw."
A hush fell.
Even Yuuji stared.
It wasn't until Rio smoothly clapped again that the class followed suit.
---
Back at their table, Yuuji nudged Ren's shoulder lightly. "You didn't tell me you had it in you."
Ren shrugged. "Some things are easier to hide behind jokes."
Yuuji hesitated. "That… sounded personal."
Ren didn't meet his eyes. "Maybe it was."
Yuuji felt it again—that strange tug in his chest. The one he couldn't name.
---
Later, in the hallway, Ian caught Ren's arm.
"That outburst," he said flatly. "It wasn't like you."
Ren raised a brow. "What, emotional depth throws you off?"
"Only when it feels like it's directed at someone."
Ren's smirk twitched. "You jealous, Ian?"
Ian didn't reply. Just turned and walked away.
Watching from a distance, Rio raised one brow. He didn't smile this time.
---
Back inside the class, Will sat beside Yuuji, sliding him a new draft of their presentation report.
"I think Ren really meant what he said," Will said carefully.
Yuuji, looking down at the paper, said nothing.
But his heart was still stuck back in the moment when Ren's voice had cracked—not with flirtation, not with defiance, but something closer to truth.
And maybe Yuuji wanted to hear more of it.