The excitement in the room was almost unbearable. Everyone chattered, laughed, and nudged each other as they scrambled to find their partners. Yet, for Yumi, the noise seemed distant, muted, as if it belonged to another world. The instructor's words still lingered in her mind like a hammer striking again and again:
"Everyone please choose your partners carefully, because you are going to learn together, so you have to care for each other until you grow up like a married couple."
The declaration had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her friends whispered and giggled, pairing off with ease, their cheeks flushed with excitement or embarrassment. Some whispered names, others nudged shoulders. The energy around her was intoxicating, yet alien—she felt suspended outside of it, unseen, unnoticed.
Minutes stretched painfully. One by one, names were registered, partners chosen, and the chatter grew even louder. Yumi remained frozen, heart thumping in her ears, hands twisting nervously at the hem of her sleeve. Every laugh she overheard felt like it carved a deeper hollow inside her. She wanted to move, to call out, to find someone—but every instinct seemed to betray her, leaving her rooted in place like a statue.
By the time the registration hour ended, Yumi was left standing alone on the wooden platform, its surface worn and warm under the late afternoon sun. Her stomach knotted as she realized everyone else had paired off. Behind her, familiar voices carried sharp laughter.
"Look at her! No partner at all!" Kai's teasing tone sliced through the quiet.
"She probably didn't even try," Damian added, chuckling as he nudged Kai.
Heat flared in Yumi's chest, equal parts embarrassment and frustration. She tried to shrink into herself, hoping the platform would somehow swallow her whole. She could feel their laughter ricocheting against her skin, making the solitude even heavier.
And then—a shadow fell across her.
"Hey, Yumi," came a calm, smooth voice.
She turned, blinking, and saw Pherrie standing there, that trademark confident smirk tugging at his lips. His presence immediately made the air feel different: warmer, lighter, yet charged with an unspoken tension.
"Since you have no partner," he continued, stepping closer, "I'll be your partner."
For a heartbeat, Yumi froze. Her mouth opened, then closed, a faint stammer catching in her throat. "O-Ok… o-okay," she finally whispered, barely audible.
Pherrie's smile widened, mischievous and reassuring all at once. Without a word, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers. The touch was electric—subtle, yet undeniable—and it made her pulse leap in a way she wasn't expecting. Hesitantly, she allowed him to hold her hand, and together they walked off the platform toward the registration office.
Every step felt like it amplified the world around her—the murmurs of students, the creak of the wooden floor, the soft brush of their hands intertwined. Even as they approached the office, Yumi could feel the lingering eyes of the others on them, whispers trailing behind them like ghostly ribbons. But with Pherrie beside her, steady and confident, the weight of being alone, of being overlooked, began to fade just enough to make her heart pound with anticipation instead of shame.
Inside the registration office, the clerk glanced up and nodded at them, and Pherrie squeezed her hand gently before letting go. Their names were written side by side, an official pairing now etched into the record. And though it was simple, mundane even, Yumi felt a thrill run through her chest—the first spark of excitement she'd felt all day, tinged with something dangerously close to… anticipation.
Pherrie caught her gaze as they stepped back into the hallway. "Don't worry," he said, voice low enough that only she could hear. "We'll be fine."
Yumi swallowed hard, cheeks flushed, realizing that maybe being alone wasn't so terrifying after all—at least, not when someone like Pherrie was willing to step in.
The wooden platform behind them seemed to shrink in memory, the echoes of teasing fading into nothing. And for the first time that day, Yumi felt… noticed.