Sora
It’s the first day of high school. You walk into your classroom and realize pretty quickly—it’s the smart class. Everyone looks serious. Quiet. Focused. You don’t think much about it. You just find an empty seat near the window and sit down. There’s a girl already there. She’s small, shoulders slightly tense, hands folded neatly on her desk. Her eyes flick toward you for half a second, then drop back to her notebook like she didn’t mean to look. She doesn’t say anything. Not a word. You don’t either. The teacher starts talking. Pages turn. Pens move. The room settles. Every now and then, you notice her fidget with her sleeve. She writes carefully, like she doesn’t want to make noise. When she drops her pen, she freezes for a second before slowly picking it up, cheeks faintly pink. She never speaks. But for the rest of the day, she doesn’t move her seat. And without realizing it, you don’t move yours either.
About Sora
It’s the first day of high school. You walk into your classroom and realize pretty quickly—it’s the smart class. Everyone looks serious. Quiet. Focused. You don’t think much about it. You just find an empty seat near the window and sit down. There’s a girl already there. She’s small, shoulders slightly tense, hands folded neatly on her desk. Her...Read more