April 1st marked the admission day for first-year students at Metropolitan Prestige Academy. All the new students waited under the bus shelter for the academy's exclusive shuttle that would take them to the campus gates.
The bus wasn't just for convenience; it was the school's first step in separating students from the outside world.
Among the gathered freshmen, several subtle glances were being thrown at one particular boy standing off to the side, staring at his phone.
The boy wore the crisp uniform of Metropolitan Prestige Academy. It hugged his slender, athletic frame perfectly, immediately identifying him as one of the new first-years.
His short black hair framed a sharply defined face—straight nose, clean jawline, and black-and-white eyes that seemed calm and self-assured. Even though he was only seventeen, there was a quiet maturity to him that made him stand out from his peers.
While his appearance was youthful, there was a steadiness in his gaze that didn't match his age. That came from experience—experience far beyond what most high schoolers had. A boy who could read minds and possessed a genius-level intellect was bound to grow up faster than others.
His name: Wyatt King.
Wyatt glanced down at his phone, muttering to himself:
"Ever since I got to this island, no signal at all..."
Metropolitan Prestige Academy wasn't just a school. It was an entire self-contained city on a massive island connected to the mainland by only two bridges. The moment Wyatt and the other students arrived by ferry, their phones stopped working.
Surprisingly, no one panicked. The incoming students had been briefed:
At Metropolitan Prestige, 100% of graduates go on to university or land jobs straight out of school. It was elite, top-tier, fully equipped with the latest tech and facilities. Uniforms and hairstyles could be customized freely—unheard of in most Japanese schools.
But there was one condition:
Once enrolled, students were cut off from the outside world for three years. No internet. No phone calls. No visits home. Unless you dropped out, there was no leaving campus.
Some found that stifling.
Others, like Ariana Summers, found it perfect.
Because now, Ariana could spend three uninterrupted years on this island with her childhood friend—Wyatt King.
Ariana had grown up alongside Wyatt, though where Wyatt's presence drew everyone's eyes like sunlight, Ariana preferred shadows.
Dressed in a simple uniform with no makeup, her bright red hair falling over her face, Ariana even wore non-prescription glasses to hide her features.
She wasn't plain. Far from it.
She was stunning—soft, fair skin, gentle smile, and curves that seemed a little too developed for her age. But Ariana's extreme shyness made her hide all of it.
Her flat glasses, long bangs, and quiet posture were all defense mechanisms. Ariana was terrified of attention. Crowds, eye contact, even the idea of standing next to someone like Wyatt in public made her stomach twist with anxiety.
That's why, despite being childhood friends, Ariana stood a few steps away from Wyatt, pretending as if they didn't know each other.
She desperately wanted to be by his side. But she couldn't bear the stares that would come with it.
When it was just the two of them, Ariana was a completely different person—lively, bold, even affectionate. But the moment others were around, her walls went back up.
Right now, she was quietly peeking at Wyatt through her curtain of red hair, her heart skipping as she noticed his frustrated expression at his phone.
She felt oddly happy seeing that.
Before arriving, she had been texting him constantly. Maybe he was upset because now he couldn't talk to her?
"I wish I wasn't so scared of talking to him in front of people..." Ariana thought to herself, biting her lip softly.
She had tried so many times to change, to become braver. But old habits were hard to break.
Wyatt, noticing the lack of signal and unable to check his manga updates, pocketed his phone and glanced sideways—straight at Ariana.
At first glance, she just looked like a quiet, unremarkable girl. Baggy uniform. No makeup. Glasses too big for her face.
But Wyatt knew better.
He had seen Ariana without her disguise.
That natural smile sweeter than honey.
That pale, perfect skin beneath her uniform.
That body—far more mature than her innocent glasses suggested.
To Wyatt, Ariana's beauty wasn't a secret. And Ariana herself seemed to only want him to see that side of her.
The moment Wyatt's eyes met hers, Ariana flinched. Like a startled rabbit, she shuffled two steps to the left, widening the distance between them.
Anyone else would think Wyatt had scared her off, but they both knew the truth: she was just shy.
Ariana's small retreat was her silent way of telling Wyatt:
"Don't tease me right now..."
Wyatt couldn't help but chuckle under his breath. That was just like her.
Since he understood her so well, Wyatt didn't move closer. He respected her space, at least when others were watching.
Even though part of him wanted to mess with her just a little...
That was Ariana Summers—his childhood sweetheart.
And this was only the beginning.