[ Prologue ]

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Third Person POV

"I'm sorry, but you're sitting in my seat."

What she expected was an, "Oh, sorry," or even simply leaving the seat altogether but not this.

The boy opened his mouth as to say something but pressed his mouth together in a thin line. He continued to scrutinize the female in front of him with narrowed eyes and a cocked eyebrow. It was quite apparent he was irked by the obvious 'disgust' written all over his face.

"Find another seat, dumbass. This one's taken," he dismissively spoke as his face contorted to one of 'is this chick serious?'.

An irk mark of her own came to surface by this guy's terrible attitude. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to collect herself before feigning a smile.

"How about you get off the one that's not yours to begin with?"

The room went silent. Even more than it already was.

He exasperatedly huffed as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, took off his glasses and leaned forward. Resting his right cheek on his propped-up hand, his violet eyes stared boringly at her through his eyelashes.

"Would you like to repeat that again?" He blatantly spoke— more of a statement than it was a question.

The poor girl was inwardly taken aback but she couldn't let that show on her face. Normally, she wasn't one for confrontation— hell, she leaned towards a people pleaser so others can approach her this school year— but this dude's being a real asshole. She couldn't back down just yet.

"I said—!"

"Ah, (l/n)-san! There you are," a random classmate pulled the (h/c)-haired girl's arm and let out a nervous laugh, "Since you're still new, you forgot where you sat, huh? You sat with me, remember?"

This girl emphasized the 'remember' part in a desperate attempt to save the new kid in her first week of school from an infamous gangster. Everyone else in the room watched apprehensively and prayed that the new girl wouldn't get beaten up— more so they don't have to intervene and be involved.

"Huh? But we're in high school now. Why are we letting people have whatever they want just like in middle school—?"

The classmate harshly tugged on her uniform sleeve and stared pleadingly. She leaned into (y/n)'s ear as the boy in the seat became increasingly irritated by the situation. After all, they were talking right in front of him as if he didn't have ears.

"(Y/n) you're talking to Haitani Rindo!" She whisper-yelled as the (h/c)-nette furrowed her eyebrows, "Him and his brother are the 'Kings of Roppongi'— the most notorious gang members in this area. Don't mess with them and just come with me, please—!"

"Who?"

He blinked. He looked up in disbelief and was met with a pair of eyes that stared back at him with the same amount of confusion.

She doesn't... know him?

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