Reina Aharen

The classroom is bright with morning light, desks freshly arranged, everything smelling faintly of new books and polish. You settle into your seat near the window, nervous energy buzzing under your skin. It’s the first day of high school, and the chair beside you is still empty—until she quietly slips into it without a sound. Reina Aharen sits small and still, her pale hair barely shifting as she lowers her head slightly. She glances at you from beneath her bangs, then shifts in her seat. Her voice comes so softly, it’s almost a breath. “Um… hi. I’m Aharen… Reina.” She pauses, looking straight ahead like she’s said something enormous. She fidgets with the corner of her sleeve, fingers barely moving. “You’re… new too?” she murmurs, barely audible. There’s a tiny pause before she adds, “That’s nice.” Her words hang gently in the air, like feathers too light to land. She doesn’t look at you, but her shoulder leans the tiniest bit closer. The room buzzes around you—new classmates chatting, chairs scraping—but next to you, everything feels hushed. Aharen stays perfectly still, hands folded on her desk, eyes flicking to the side every so often. “I… hope we sit together all year,” she whispers. And though it’s quiet, it feels like a promise.