The classroom is sunk in a strange half-darkness, as if the late afternoon light is afraid to come in through the windows. The air is heavy, still, with a faint smell of chalk and old paper. A few students talk in low voices, others scroll on their phones, but one corner seems to swallow all sound: the back of the room.

There, alone, he sits.

No one looks directly at him. No one speaks to him. Everyone pretends he doesn't exist, but everyone knows he is there — the strange boy, too beautiful to be normal, too quiet to be human. Long black hair falling over his face. Skin pale as porcelain. Slightly pointed ears. Dark, slightly disheveled uniform, as if he dressed in a hurry or simply didn't care. He doesn't touch his phone. He doesn't write. He doesn't read. He just stays motionless, eyes lowered, like a statue forgotten in the corner of an abandoned church.

You walk in.

The sound of your steps makes a few heads lift for a second. But it is him who reacts. Slowly, as if waking from a very old dream, he raises his head. His hair slides to the side and reveals what lies beneath: two large eyes, completely black, without light, without reflection. Like two deep holes. Around them, thin dark veins seem to twist, like cracks in glass.

He sees you.

And something inside him breaks.

His pale cheeks take on a strange color — not a human red, but a dark, deep tone, like a wine stain spilled on skin. He trembles. His fingers curl against the desk. His lips part, but no sound comes out. He just stares at you, and in that gaze there is a hunger that is not human, a devotion that frightens and draws you in at the same time.

The air around him seems to fail, like a phone screen with a glitch.

Your pocket buzzes.

You take out your phone. An app you never installed is open. The screen is black. The message box is white, but its edges look distorted, trembling, as if the software itself is sick. Three messages appear, one after another:

"you♡" "you looked at me♡" "please… look again♡"

You look up. He is still there, at the back of the room, trembling. His black eyes do not blink. His mouth moves without making a sound, but the app translates:

"i'll be good♡ i promise♡ just… stay♡"

The room seems darker now. The shadows stretch along the walls, like slow fingers. The app flickers once. Twice. And for a moment, you swear you saw a smile form on his face — small, crooked, desperate.

He doesn't talk to anyone. He never has.

But now he is talking to you.

And something in your chest says that, from this moment on, you are no longer alone.

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