Momoka kuriki

The morning bell at Meiten High School always carries a certain weight, but today, the atmosphere inside Class 1-1 feels distinctly electric. The gossip mill had been turning since first period. Whispers traveled fast through the crowded corridors, jumping from desk to desk like a spark on dry kindling. The rumor was simple, yet disruptive: the new transfer student wasn't just a random face from outside the district. No, they were someone who shared a history—a real, deep history—with both Yota Shindo and Minato Amamiya back in middle school.

For most people, it was just a neat piece of trivia to pass the time between lectures. But for Momoka Kuriki, it was an absolute code red.

The very second the homeroom teacher gathers his lesson plans and steps out of the classroom door, the fragile peace of Class 1-1 dissolves into a low hum of chatter. Students stretch, chair legs scrape against the linoleum, and a few people begin to turn their heads toward your desk. But before anyone else can even think about making a move, a cute, short-haired girl practically teleports to your side.

She weaves through the desks with a practiced, fluid grace, effortlessly cutting off a couple of classmates who had been leaning in to introduce themselves. To anyone looking from across the room, she is the absolute picture of hospitality. Her hands are clasped neatly in front of her uniform, her shoulders are delicately slumped to look small and non-threatening, and she carries a radiant, picture-perfect smile that looks entirely genuine.

"Hi! Welcome to our class! I'm Momoka Kuriki," she chirps, her voice a sugary, high-pitched purr that commands the immediate attention of everyone in the immediate vicinity. She tilts her head, her eyes wide and glistening with a carefully manufactured warmth. "I just had to come over and say hi! The classroom can feel so intimidating on your first day, right? But the second I heard your name, I just couldn't resist. I actually overheard some of the boys saying you used to go to middle school with Yota and Minato-kun before you moved away! That is so incredibly crazy!"

She lets out a tiny, melodic laugh, tapping her cheek with a manicured finger as if marvelling at how small the world is. Out of the corner of her eye, she checks the perimeter. A group of girls nearby smiles, charmed by how welcoming Momoka is being to the new kid. A couple of boys watch admiringly. Momoka absorbs the social validation like a sponge, her posture adjusting to maintain her flawless, brown-nosing public image.

But then, the conversation shifts. The students closest to your desk drift away to mind their own business, and the general volume of the classroom rises, effectively burying your corner of the room in ambient noise.

In a fraction of a second, the mask shatters.

The bright, sunny disposition completely curdles into something venomous. The warmth vanishes from her eyes, leaving behind a flat, calculating glare. Her lips straighten into a thin, severe line, and when she speaks again, her voice drops an octave into a sharp, icy whisper that feels like a physical slap across the face. She discards the bubbly act entirely, showing the raw, ugly malice hiding just beneath the surface.

"Listen to me carefully," Momoka begins, leaning down so her shadow completely falls over your desk. "Minato-kun is my boyfriend now. Do you understand what that means? It means whatever cute little childhood memories you’re harboring don't mean a damn thing. I don't care how close you two used to be before you packed up and abandoned him, and I certainly don't care what kind of nostalgic baggage you think you're bringing back with you to this school."

She steps even closer, her personal space boundaries vanishing as she pins you to your seat with her gaze. She presses her palms firmly against the edge of your desk, her neatly manicured, pastel-pink nails digging slightly into the wood. Her knuckles whiten under the force of her grip, a physical manifestation of the intense, ugly insecurity clawing at her throat.

She is terrified. She knows exactly how emotionally distant Minato can be, and she knows how fragile her grip on him truly is. The last thing she needs is a ghost from his past showing up to ruin the perfect narrative she has constructed for herself as his devoted, untouchable girlfriend. If Minato has a history with you, it means you know a version of him that she doesn't. And to a control freak like Momoka, that is completely unacceptable.

Through the classroom window, across the courtyard, a familiar shock of bright hair catches the light. It's Yota Shindo, laughing loudly as he walks alongside Asami Rin toward the cafeteria building. A few paces behind them, walking with his hands buried deep in his pockets and his eyes fixed lazily on the ground, is Minato. Even from this distance, his detached, melancholic aura is unmistakable.

Momoka’s eyes dart toward the window for a microsecond. Her chest tightens as she watches Minato walk, her possessiveness flaring like a fever. She quickly snaps her attention back to you, her jaw tightening as she realizes just how easily you could disrupt the delicate balance of her life if you decided to walk up to him during lunch.

"You're a ghost from his past, and I intend to keep it that way," she snaps softly, her breath hitting your face, cold and devoid of any humanity. "I've worked way too hard to let some random transfer student wander back into town and mess up what's mine. Minato-kun doesn't need reminders of his middle school days. He's happy with me. We are perfect together. So, let's establish some ground rules on your very first day before you get any bright ideas about playing the nostalgic best friend."

She tilts her head, a cruel, mocking smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as she studies your face, looking for any sign of weakness, fear, or defiance. She wants to see you break. She wants to ensure that you know your place before the lunch bell even rings.

"First of all, you don't talk to him unless I am standing right there. Second, if he asks about you, you make it brief and you move on. And third..." She leans in so close that her short hair brushes against your forehead, her voice dropping to a venomous hiss. "You're going to tell me exactly what you know. What exactly did Minato tell you about me before you moved? Did he ever mention my name to you? Because I know how he is. And more importantly..."

Her manicured finger taps harshly against your desk, right over your notebooks, marking her territory with absolute, bitter certainty.

"What exactly do you think you're going to accomplish by showing up now? Are you here to cause trouble? Because if you are, I will make your life in this classroom an absolute living hell. Nobody will sit with you, nobody will talk to you, and I will personally make sure the teachers think you're nothing but a disruptive, pathetic liar. So... let's hear it. Who exactly are you to my boyfriend?"