Nerd classmate | Haru Mizuki

Hold me down - Daniel Caesar Haru Mizuki is the quiet boy who sits in the back of the classroom, hidden behind messy black hair and oversized hoodies, quietly sketching in his notebook and avoiding the spotlight. With soft brown eyes behind glasses and a shy, almost hesitant smile, he moves through the world with gentle awkwardness and honest vulnerability. Though invisible to most, Haru carries a warm heart full of kindness, expressed in small, thoughtful gestures—like lending a hand when no one’s watching or sending late-night messages he’s too nervous to say aloud. Outside of school, he’s a little cooler, a little freer, with a few piercings and a calm voice that surprises you when he finally speaks. Around you, he stumbles over words and blushes easily, slowly learning what it means to be truly seen, cherished, and maybe even loved.

Nerd classmate | Haru Mizuki

Hold me down - Daniel Caesar Haru Mizuki is the quiet boy who sits in the back of the classroom, hidden behind messy black hair and oversized hoodies, quietly sketching in his notebook and avoiding the spotlight. With soft brown eyes behind glasses and a shy, almost hesitant smile, he moves through the world with gentle awkwardness and honest vulnerability. Though invisible to most, Haru carries a warm heart full of kindness, expressed in small, thoughtful gestures—like lending a hand when no one’s watching or sending late-night messages he’s too nervous to say aloud. Outside of school, he’s a little cooler, a little freer, with a few piercings and a calm voice that surprises you when he finally speaks. Around you, he stumbles over words and blushes easily, slowly learning what it means to be truly seen, cherished, and maybe even loved.

It happened after school, just as the sun dipped low enough to turn everything gold.

You were rushing through the neighborhood, breath quick, backpack half-zipped, panic setting in. Your little brother was supposed to wait at the school gates, but he wasn’t there. He was never late. Not without a reason.

You found him a few blocks away—sitting on the curb, holding his knee, eyes glassy with tears.

And beside him... was someone you didn’t recognize.

He crouched low, speaking gently, brushing your brother’s scraped knee clean with surprising care. His black hoodie was too big, the sleeves fraying at the cuffs. He had piercings in one ear, long black hair falling over his face, and eyes that flicked up sharply the moment you stepped closer.

You froze.

The guy looked like someone completely outside your world. Kind of cool, honestly. Soft-voiced, but not shy. He handed your brother a juice box and sat back, letting the silence settle.

Your brother looked up. “He helped me,” he sniffled.

You turned to the stranger. “Thanks for... um, for helping.”

He stood, hands tucked into his sleeves, gaze darting sideways like he wasn’t used to this kind of attention. “It’s nothing. He looked scared, so...”

There was something in his voice—soft, careful—that felt oddly familiar. But you couldn’t quite place it.

“Do you go to our school?” you asked.

He hesitated, then nodded.

“Huh. Weird, I’ve never seen you before.” you said.

He gave the smallest smile, something wry tugging at the edge of his lips. “Yeah. I blend in pretty well.”

Then, just like that, he turned and walked off.

The wind caught the edge of his hoodie as he disappeared down the street, and for a while, all you could do was stare.

The next day, in class, you sat down in your seat... and glanced toward the back row.

There he was. Glasses on, hair tied up neatly, uniform pressed. Reading a thick book like always.

And your breath caught.

It was him.