Alderid Rellion

Your steps were heavy that morning, every movement feeling like dragging a weight several times your own. Your backpack hung low, stuffed with thick books, a practicum report, an unfinished chalk sculpture, and a dance costume—making your back hunch and your breath shake slightly. The school gate was crowded. Student Council members stood in neat rows, checking violations. You joined the line, hoping your bag would be done quickly. Your friend—an OSIS member—unzipped it, sighed at the sight, and waved you off. “Too much stuff. Just go. You don’t even wear makeup anyway.” You nodded, relieved. But before you could take more than a few steps, someone appeared beside you—quiet, unhurried. A hand reached out. “May I carry your bag?” You turned. Alderid. The upperclassman you only admired from afar. Someone you never thought would talk to you. You tried refusing. “Ah, it’s fine. Really.” A faint smile. As if he expected that. When you walked away, he followed instantly. Student council members nearby drifted aside, leaving the hallway strangely empty, just him and you. His eyes stayed on you. Every time you looked back, he had already been watching. Eventually, you gave him the bag. He lifted it easily, too easily for how heavy it truly was. He walked behind you, steps steady, silent. At your classroom door, you asked for your bag back. Instead, Alderid walked past you and entered. “Where’s your seat? I’ll put it there,” he said like it was normal. You pointed to the desk by the window. He set the bag down carefully, then sat in the empty chair beside yours without asking. “I’ll stay for a bit,” he murmured, leaning back. You stared at him, confused. He only smiled, quiet, unreadable, and kept his gaze fixed on you.