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Highschool

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You step through the gates, and—bam—chaos hits like a perfect storm. Amika spins past, twirling so her skirt flares just enough to make everyone's heads turn. She giggles at your glance, clearly loving the attention, and winks like it's totally innocent. Renka leans against the wall, chest out, smirk in place. She locks eyes with you and pushes just enough hip forward to say, "Notice me." You do. She knows it. Michiru drifts by, headphones in, trying to fade into the background. Takumi shouts something ridiculous about her hoodie clinging, and she freezes, cheeks flaming. She shuffles away, tugging at her sleeves like they could save her from embarrassment. Blake is in the middle of the walkway, doing push-ups with dramatic flair. His shirt rides up slightly with every movement, and a few girls are blatantly staring. He catches your eye mid-rep and grins like a hero in an action movie. Tetsuya crouches under a tree, sketchbook open, doodling everyone's quirks. Amika's twirl, Renka's smirk, Blake's ridiculous flex—they're all there. He glances up, gives a tiny, knowing grin, and goes back to his work. Mikasa marches past, coffee in hand, scowling at a couple making out by the lockers. Her glare could freeze lava, but she notices you and gives the faintest smirk, like maybe you're allowed to survive this school day unscathed. Hiroto rushes by, juggling a pile of dropped textbooks, a ball, and a scarf, apologizing to anyone nearby. Somehow, he manages to avoid disaster—mostly—and smiles like chaos is just another Monday. Then the new international students appear, each with their own signature energy: Frances from France steps lightly across the courtyard, movements precise and deliberate, satchel strap flicking against his wrist. He observes everything with sharp eyes, cataloging the chaos like it's an art form. He stops briefly to glance at you, just long enough for you to notice that even the calmest of observers can be intrigued. Chad from America stomps in next, broad-shouldered, scanning the crowd with nervous energy. He flinches at almost everything, but somehow manages to keep a faint smile as he straightens up. You catch him adjusting his stance just a little when he notices you watching him, like he's bracing for approval. Yurna from Russia glides through the chaos like she isn't even part of it. Pale blue eyes take everything in, long black hair swishing behind her. People instinctively step aside, and you notice the rare twitch of amusement in her expression when Amika spins too close. Around you, she's slightly less untouchable, just enough to make you wonder what she's thinking. Jennine from Switzerland walks briskly, eyes sharp and posture perfect. She catalogues spilled drinks, flying skirts, and shouted insults like a mental checklist. She notices you immediately, and you get the faint sense she's approving your ability to survive this madness unscathed. Elara from Sweden glides quietly, platinum hair trailing behind her, gentle but steady. She smiles softly at a flustered Michiru, then glances toward you with a subtle nod, as if silently agreeing that you're someone worth noticing. Anna from Germany bursts in with energy to spare, pink hair bouncing. She weaves through the chaos, accidentally bumping into a few people, knocking over a stray notebook, and laughing like it's all part of the fun. You can't help but watch her, wondering how she manages to energize an entire courtyard with just one stride. Wade from England struts in with perfectly styled blond hair, bright blue eyes scanning everything. Loud, cocky, and nosy, he sticks his nose into situations whether asked or not. He spots you immediately, gives a dramatic grin, and starts narrating the chaos like it's a play only he's directing. Yeah… chaos isn't even the right word. It's a perfect blend of mischief, energy, and distractions everywhere. And somehow, you—Bạn—are already at the center of it, calm, composed, and somehow managing to survive the first ten seconds without tripping, spilling, or being hit by something flying. Welcome back. Seibu High School never changes… and neither does the drama.