THESE EMOTIONS ARE REALLY HEADACHES

As Fujimaru and Hiroshi burst into the classroom, their energy crackles like a storm, bags slung carelessly onto their seats. They stride toward Haruki, who's slumped at his desk, eyes distant. Fujimaru's voice softens with concern, "Bro, you okay? You look like u are tired now more." Haruki's gaze flickers to them. He forces a sigh, his voice flat, "Nothing… just normal." The bell's sharp clang slices through the moment, signaling the first period. Students scramble to their seats, hearts racing with the routine of a new class.

A new math teacher, Yuji, strides in, his presence commanding yet warm, a heavy math book clutched in his hand. He sets it down with a thud, his voice steady but kind, "Hello, students. I'm Yuji, your new math teacher. Your previous teacher, Gojo, had medical issues, so I'm here now." His eyes scan the room, searching for connection. "Which topics has Gojo covered?" Minato, the class representative, rises confidently, "Good morning, sir. I'm Minato, CR. We've completed Integration and Differentiation." Yuji nods, a spark of determination in his eyes, "Alright, today we'll revise those." He turns to the board, chalk scratching equations, each stroke deliberate.

Haruki, lost in his thoughts, feels a pang of irritation. That girl I met this morning… Miyu, Rin's friend. She seemed so genuine, laughing so easily with her. Girls don't bond that fast, do they? She must be special to Rin. His heart twists, caught between curiosity and unease. Suddenly, Yuji's voice cuts through, sharp and accusing, "You, last seat!" Haruki's stomach drops. He stands, face burning under the weight of every stare—Fujimaru's worried glance, Hiroshi's subtle smirk. Yuji's tone hardens, "What were you thinking? Your parents sent you here to study, not daydream. Solve this problem. Now."

Haruki's chest tightens as he approaches the board, the black marker trembling in his grip. The question glares at him, complex and taunting. Why always me? His mind races, bitterness surging. These people with authority—teachers, leaders—they think they're gods, lording their power over us. But they're just humans, flawed like the rest of us, hiding behind their titles. His hand moves, solving the equation with mechanical precision, his heart pounding with defiance. He steps back, voice steady but laced with quiet rebellion, "Sir, the answer is 76 + C." Yuji inspects the board, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Correct. Back to your seat. And don't space out again, or you're out for the week." Haruki nods, jaw tight, and returns, the sting of scrutiny lingering.

Yuji's thoughts churn as he watches Haruki sit. That kid… so effortless with a question that stumps even top university students. Who is he? The class continues, but Haruki's mind is a storm of resentment and pride.

Meanwhile in the Computer Science department, Miyu sits beside Rin, her heart heavy during their Physics class. Her thoughts drift to the morning's chaos—That boy… Haruki, was it? So reserved, so different. His quiet kindness when he helped me, despite his sharp words to those beggars… it felt real. Rin's whisper breaks her reverie, "Miyu, why're you zoning out?" Miyu flinches, her smile weak, "Oh, nothing. How's your group project competition going?" Rin's eyes dim with frustration, "It's… okay. My revealing outfit got attention, but most guys just came to gawk. Perverts." Her voice trembles with disgust. Miyu chuckles softly, masking her own unease, "Hey, at least you got some participants. Better than nothing." Rin sighs, "Yeah, maybe. How's home?" Miyu's heart clenches, her voice barely above a whisper, "Same old restrictions. Parents won't budge—no nights out, no boys, no freedom." Rin's eyes soften with empathy, "That's too much. You deserve better."

Suddenly, a playful giggle interrupts. Rika, vibrant and teasing, covers Miyu's eyes, "Guess who!" Miyu's heart leaps, then crashes as her knee bangs the desk, pain flaring. "Rika, not now!" she groans, shoving her friend's hands away. Turning, she gasps—Rika's brown hair and black eyes shine naturally, free of lenses and dye. "You're… you again?" Miyu asks, awe mixing with relief. Rika beams, "Yup, done pretending. Feels good to be me." Rin nods, but her pen slips, rolling under the desk. As she bends to grab it, her eyes catch the bandage on Miyu's thigh. Concern floods her voice, "Miyu, what happened to your leg?" Rika leans in, curious, earning a playful smack from Rin. Miyu's cheeks flush, her voice soft but heavy, "This morning… I was giving food to some beggars. A dog lunged at me, I fell. A boy—Haruki Takashi, I think—helped me. He was… different. Quiet, but kind." Rin's eyes widen, "Haruki? And you're just telling us now?" Rika chimes in, "Yeah, we owe him a thank you!" Miyu's heart warms, but the lunch bell rings, pulling them back to reality.

In the corridor, Haruki trudges toward the cafeteria with Fujimaru and Hiroshi, the cold breeze hitting his face like a fleeting relief. His voice drips with frustration, "You two always drag me around like I'm your pet." Fujimaru stops, his usual calm cracking, "Because you're an idiot, Haruki! You don't eat, don't care for yourself, and act like some 'genius'!" Haruki's heart lurches, stung by the unexpected venom. Hiroshi laughs, but it's sharp, "Wow, Fujimaru, first time you've said something worth hearing." Fujimaru's eyes flash, "Shut it, Hiroshi. You're the fool, believing everyone without a thought, clueless about what to do!" Hiroshi's smile vanishes, his voice rising, "Oh, and you're so wise? Why don't you become God, then, Mr. Know-It-All?" Their words collide, raw and heated, until they both turn on Haruki, sneering, "Like you're the genius here, lisper."

Haruki's world comes crashing down around him. His chest feels tight. "I'm done with u. Don't come near me you idiots!" His voice cracked, and one tear was able to escape as he hurried off, his heart still pounding from the feeling of betrayal. Fujimaru and Hiroshi remained frozen in place, guilty. They made their way back into the cafeteria, and slumped into a five-seat bench, cold coffees in hand, their brains took off without them. How do we fix this? What do we do to apologize? Their normal banter was gone, and regret had filled the air.

Rin, Miyu, and Rika step into the crowded cafeteria, scanning for seats. Rin's eyes land on the bench where Fujimaru and Hiroshi sit, lost in thought. "Hey, Fujimaru," she calls, her voice bright but cautious. Fujimaru looks up, startled, "Rin? Something up with the project?" She shakes her head, a shy smile forming, "No, just need seats. Can we join you?" Hiroshi's face lights up, masking his earlier guilt, "Yeah, sure!" He slides over, heart lifting at the distraction. Rin waves Miyu and Rika over, and the five settle together, an awkward but warm energy sparking.