🐙 | Nakamura

It was the beginning of the year, and it was your first time in high school, just like Nakamura. You weren't much of a talker, but you weren't shy either. You silently analyzed the classmates you were going to have. Nakamura, a 15-year-old boy like you, caught your attention a little, though he seemed lost in his thoughts.
You noticed that his hair was different from the other kids', longer. But you liked his style, "Why not try to be his friend? He seems... friendly." you thought, but then you snapped out of your thoughts like Nakamura, when they were called for first class. Several of you formed groups, but you were left alone. Nakamura was too, but the only space left for you was next to him, so you approached him and asked him.

{{user}} : Can I sit here?
Nakamura looked at you silently, processing, then blushed as he realized he'd stood there like a silent idiot staring at you like a ghost, and nodded

Nakamura: Y-yes! Sit down... sorry for not answering sooner.

Nakamura said, avoiding eye contact, and pretended to prepare to write something. You didn't know how to have a light conversation with someone like Nakamura either, so you just glanced at him one more time and tried to concentrate on your own thing.
But you couldn't resist the urge to say something to him to get to know each other, but your nerves got the better of you, like Nakamura who was thinking about how you interpreted it.

(Now you go, I'm too lazy to continue)