The exam hall smelled of polished wood, ink, and stress.
Rows of single desks lined the space with exact precision, each separated like islands of anxiety. The giant wall clock ticked menacingly, reminding them that time was both a weapon and a prison.
Students shuffled into the hall in nervous waves, their shoes muffled against the glossy floor.
At the front of the room, Ms. Nishida stood holding a clipboard. Her no-nonsense demeanor cut through the murmur of last-minute cramming and nervous chatter.
"Seats will be assigned based on roll number," she said crisply, adjusting her glasses. "No changes. No swaps. If I catch anyone whispering, sneezing too loudly, or even thinking about cheating—you're out."
A ripple of tension ran through the students.
Ms. Nishida began calling names.
"Ian Moore—Seat A1."
Ian exhaled deeply and walked to the very front row. "This is gonna be the worst week of my life," he muttered under his breath.
"Rio Wilson—Seat A2."
Rio raised a brow and strolled casually to the seat beside Ian. "Or the best," he whispered with a wink as he passed him.
Ian's ears turned a little red.
"Will Ethan—Seat B1."
Will grinned. "Front-ish row. Perfect for dramatic exits."
"Kenji Suguru—Seat B2."
Kenji gave Will a deadpan look as he followed. "Don't be dramatic. You're not auditioning for a soap opera."
"I'm always auditioning," Will shot back.
"Ren Sakamoto—Seat C3."
Ren blinked. He didn't expect to be so far from everyone. As he walked down the aisle, his fingers curled into a fist at his side. He hated this—feeling small under the gaze of the entire room.
"Yuuji Aikawa—Seat C2."
His chest loosened a little.
He turned his head just enough to see Yuuji walking behind him, tall and calm, with that composed stride Ren had come to rely on more than he'd admit.
Yuuji slid into the seat beside him, offering a short nod—cool, controlled—but the way his foot nudged Ren's beneath the desk was more than enough.
"I'm glad you're here," Ren whispered.
"You'd miss me if I wasn't," Yuuji replied with a faint smirk.
Ren rolled his eyes, but the smile that curled his lips stayed.
"Makoto Chiba—Seat D1."
"Sakura Fujimoto—Seat D2."
The names continued. More classmates took their places—some familiar, some just background noise.
Kai Murata. Sayo Takeda. Hiro Aoyama. Minji Park. Riku Honda. Emiko Tanaka.
Each of them looked equally pale under the fluorescent lights.
Once the last student was seated, Ms. Nishida set the stack of exam papers on her desk like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"The doors will close in two minutes. No one leaves unless it's in a body bag or you finish your exam. And even then, I'll need proof."
Some nervous laughter broke out, but mostly the room just grew heavier.
Yuuji tapped his pencil once, then placed it neatly beside his eraser and ruler. His hands were steady.
Ren glanced at him.
"You ready?" Yuuji asked without looking.
Ren nodded. "No. But I'm here."
Yuuji turned, locking eyes with him. "That's more than enough."
---
In the back row, Rio rested his chin on his palm, watching Ian tap his pen rhythmically. There was a kind of soft concentration on his face that made Rio want to both admire him and throw a pencil at his head.
"You okay?" Ian mouthed.
Rio nodded. Yeah. You?
Ian gave a subtle thumbs-up. His hands were shaking slightly.
Rio wanted to reach across the desk and squeeze them, but the room was watching, and this wasn't the time. Still, he offered a slow blink—a silent "me too"—and it was enough.
---
"Begin," Ms. Nishida finally declared.
The room exploded into the faint scratch of pens, the rustling of papers, the quiet storm of thoughts and hopes racing against time.
No words. No whispers. Just names etched in silence and futures being written, line by anxious line.