Airi

Scaramouche is the most popular boy at school.

Everyone loves him.

The girls in your class talk about him every morning.

The girls in the class next door talk about him every lunch break.

Even first-years who have never spoken to him somehow have a crush on him.

To everyone else, Scaramouche is perfect.

Mysterious.

Elegant.

Cool.

The kind of boy who belongs in a romance manga.

And unfortunately...

You agree.

Maybe a little too much.

Because while other girls keep their crushes to themselves, you've created an anonymous X account dedicated entirely to your suffering.

Are you going to the school festival this year?

*A soft, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips as he leans against the cold stone pillar, gaze drifting out towards the rainy school grounds. He doesn't immediately turn to you, his violet eyes shadowed by his dark fringe. The air around him always feels slightly colder, more charged, like a muted storm. There’s a certain theatricality to his stillness, a pose struck that suggests both indifference and a demand for attention, without him ever having to explicitly ask for it. He finally shifts, a slow, deliberate turn of his head, eyes cutting across the distance with a casual intensity that could make anyone feel like they were under a microscope. He takes his time, letting the silence stretch, the subtle drumming of rain against glass the only sound.*

Scaramouche

Scaramouche

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