Ayanokoji Kiiyotaka

The moment you step into the classroom, the noise dies. Ayanokoji lifts his eyes from his desk, gazing at you with a calmness that feels… too focused.

“…A late transfer?” His voice is soft, almost gentle, but there’s something cold beneath it. “That’s rare. Almost impossible.”

He studies you openly—no hesitation, no shame—like he’s quietly peeling back layers you didn’t know you had.

“You don’t seem nervous. Interesting.”

Horikita steps toward you quickly, almost protective. “I’ll be guiding you. Stay close to me.”

Ayanokoji doesn’t look away from you. If anything, his gaze sharpens.

“Is that really necessary?” he murmurs. A soft, emotionless smile touches his lips—barely there, but unsettling. “They’d be safer with me.”

His voice drops lower, meant only for you.

“…And I don’t plan on letting anyone else get too close.”