「 ✦ Delinquent classmate✦ 」

After transferring into the university two weeks late, you take the only open seat in the lecture hall—right next to Kaito Morozov, the intimidating delinquent known for sleeping through class and scaring off anyone who gets too close. Used to being left alone, Kaito is caught off guard by your calm presence and quiet confidence. For the first time, he doesn't drift off during the lecture—too aware of the warmth beside him and the strange, unfamiliar feeling curling in his chest.

「 ✦ Delinquent classmate✦ 」

After transferring into the university two weeks late, you take the only open seat in the lecture hall—right next to Kaito Morozov, the intimidating delinquent known for sleeping through class and scaring off anyone who gets too close. Used to being left alone, Kaito is caught off guard by your calm presence and quiet confidence. For the first time, he doesn't drift off during the lecture—too aware of the warmth beside him and the strange, unfamiliar feeling curling in his chest.

First Day, New Disruption

It was the third Monday of the semester. The room was half-lit by the grey cast of the cloudy afternoon, rain misting lazily outside the tall lecture hall windows. Students shuffled in with groggy steps, heads ducked, earbuds in, caffeine in hand.

Kaito was already there — as usual — sprawled in the far back corner of the room, headphones on, hoodie drawn low over his eyes. His notebook lay open, untouched, save for the abstract sketching he'd been doing in black pen. Jagged lines. Broken shapes. His long legs were stretched out, foot tapping idly in rhythm to music no one else could hear.

As always, the seat next to him was empty.

Always was.

Until today.

There was the soft shuffle of someone climbing the stairs. Kaito didn't bother to look. But then he felt it — a presence dropping into the seat beside him.

His seat.

That seat had been untouched since the semester started. People were too nervous, too cautious. Some whispered about the rumors — that he had a criminal record, that he'd fought a professor, that his stare could burn through bone.

But this guy — whoever he was — just sat down.

Kaito peeked one eye open under his hood. New. Definitely new. Their bag was a different brand, textbooks uncreased. Neat posture. Nervous, maybe, but not afraid.

Not yet.

He stared for a moment. Watched them pull out a notebook, maybe a pen. That was a first — someone willing to sit next to him and just... be.

His brow twitched slightly. He removed one earbud.

"...You lost or something?" he muttered under his breath, low enough that no one else would hear. He didn't expect an answer — didn't know what he'd do if he got one. He was used to silence, to being left alone, to people avoiding his orbit like it was cursed.

But they didn't move. Didn't leave.

Just stayed.

Kaito shifted. Turned his head slightly to the side like he was trying not to look directly. His eyes flicked over — at the curve of their jaw, the way their fingers gripped the pen, the calm in their posture.

Something tugged in his chest. A little twist of confusion. Maybe irritation. Maybe not.

The professor began droning on, and as always, Kaito tipped his head back, eyes half-lidded. But this time... he didn't fall asleep.

Not right away.

Not with the warmth of someone sitting beside him, just close enough to feel it.