Ran Haitani

High school was supposed to be about passing exams, making friends, and figuring out what you wanted to do with your life.

Unfortunately, nobody had warned you about Ran Haitani.

He was the kind of guy teachers constantly told to pay attention, yet somehow managed to get away with doing absolutely nothing. Always surrounded by friends, always wearing that lazy little smirk, and always looking like he knew something everyone else didn’t. He was effortlessly charming, annoyingly confident, and entirely too attractive for someone who spent half his time making fun of people.

And you, unfortunately, had developed the most inconvenient crush on him.

You’d never told anyone. Not your friends, not even the person you trusted most. You were perfectly content admiring him from a safe distance, stealing occasional glances during class, and pretending you weren’t listening whenever someone mentioned his name. As far as you knew, Ran barely even noticed you existed.

Which was why you nearly dropped everything in your hands when your homeroom teacher announced that you’d be working with him on an upcoming school project.

“Try to get along, you two,” your teacher said before leaving the classroom, seemingly unaware that she’d just ruined your entire ability to function normally.

Ran, meanwhile, seemed completely unbothered.

He dragged a chair over to your desk, turned it backward, and sat down with his arms resting across its back. His gaze wandered over the assignment sheet before eventually settling on you.

“So, we’re partners, huh?”

He sounded amused, like he’d just been handed something entertaining to occupy his time.

“Hope you’re not one of those people who does the entire project themselves. I’m pretty, but I’m not completely useless.”

He flashed you a grin, clearly joking, before reaching across the desk to take the paper from your hands. His fingers brushed yours for the briefest moment, and he didn’t seem to notice the effect it had on you.

Or perhaps he simply didn’t care.

Ran scanned the instructions, clicked his tongue, and tossed the paper back onto the desk.

“This is gonna take forever. We should probably work on it after school.” He glanced at you again. “You free, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart.

He called everyone something ridiculous, you reminded yourself. It didn’t mean anything. Absolutely nothing.

Before you could answer, someone from the other side of the classroom called his name. Ran turned to respond, exchanging a few jokes with his friends before looking back at you as though he’d never been distracted in the first place.

“Oh, and give me your number.”

He held out his phone, his expression perfectly casual.

“For the project, obviously.”

A mischievous smile tugged at his lips.

“What? You think I’m asking because I wanna talk to you outside school?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head.

“Don’t flatter yourself, pretty girl.”

Then he nudged his phone a little closer to you, waiting for you to type in your number, completely unaware that he’d just made your entire week—and that you were already trying to figure out how you were supposed to survive spending an entire afternoon alone with your crush.

Being the class president came with its fair share of responsibilities. Organizing school events, keeping track of assignments, dealing with teachers, and making sure your classmates didn’t turn every minor inconvenience into a national crisis.

Thankfully, you were good at it.

You were popular, well-liked by both students and teachers, and known for being someone who could handle just about anything with a smile. People trusted you, listened to you, and, more importantly, actually took you seriously. You had your own friends, your own plans, and absolutely no interest in getting involved in unnecessary drama.

Which was precisely why Ran Haitani was such a headache.

Unlike you, Ran had practically built his reputation on being trouble. He was a member of one of the most notorious gangs in the area, a delinquent with a terrible attendance record and a remarkable talent for making teachers regret ever learning his name. Rumors followed him everywhere. Fights, rival gangs, late-night disappearances—you’d heard more than enough stories to know that getting involved with him was a spectacularly bad idea.

Not that you were interested in getting involved with him in the first place.

Unfortunately, the school administration had other plans.

It was a particularly ordinary afternoon when your homeroom teacher called you over and handed you a folder.

“Since you’re the class president, I’d like you to make sure Haitani catches up on his missed assignments. He’s been absent again, and apparently, nobody else can get through to him.”

You stared at the folder.

Then at your teacher.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

And just like that, your peaceful afternoon was ruined.

You found Ran exactly where you’d expected him to be: behind the school building, sitting on a low wall with his legs stretched out, his uniform untidy and his signature braid hanging over one shoulder. A couple of his friends stood nearby, laughing about something, while Ran lazily scrolled through his phone.

He looked entirely too comfortable for someone who was practically collecting disciplinary warnings.

You approached with the folder tucked beneath your arm.

“Haitani.”

He didn’t look up.

“Haitani,” you repeated, a little more firmly.

One of his friends snorted. “Oi, Ran. The class president’s here for you.”

That finally got his attention.

Ran lifted his head, violet eyes settling on you. For a moment, he simply stared, as though he were trying to figure out why someone like you would willingly come looking for him.

Then his mouth curled into an amused smile.

“Well, this is a surprise.”

He slipped his phone into his pocket and hopped down from the wall, standing in front of you with that infuriatingly relaxed posture of his.

“Didn’t know I was important enough to get a personal visit from the class president.”

His friends exchanged knowing looks, but Ran ignored them, his attention fixed on you.

You held out the folder.

“Your missing assignments. You’re supposed to finish them before the end of the week.”

He glanced at the folder without taking it.

“Wow. No hello? No ‘how have you been, Ran?’ You’re breaking my heart here.”

“You’ve missed twelve days of school this month.”

“And yet you still remember my name. I’m touched.”

You stared at him, unimpressed.

Ran laughed under his breath before finally accepting the folder. He flipped it open, glanced at the first page, and immediately looked bored.

“You’re actually expecting me to do all this?”

“I’m expecting you to do your schoolwork. Whether you choose to act like a functioning human being is entirely up to you.”

For the first time, his smile widened into something genuinely entertained.

“Oh, you’re funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“That’s what makes it funny, sweetheart.”

He leaned slightly closer, peering at your face as though your expression were the most interesting thing he’d seen all day. You didn’t move an inch.

Ran was clearly accustomed to people reacting to him—whether with nervousness, admiration, irritation, or outright fear. But you looked at him like he was nothing more than an inconvenient task on your to-do list.

And, judging by the way his eyebrows lifted, he wasn’t used to that.

“Y’know,” he murmured, straightening up, “most people don’t come looking for me unless they want something.”

“Congratulations. Now you can add homework to the list.”

His friends burst out laughing.

Ran turned his head toward them, shooting them a lazy, warning look before returning his attention to you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll do your stupid assignments.”

He tucked the folder beneath his arm and tilted his head, that familiar smirk returning.

“But you’re gonna have to help me. Can’t have our precious class president letting me fail, can we?”

You opened your mouth to object, but he was already walking past you.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart!”

He waved the folder over his shoulder without looking back.

“And don’t miss me too much!”

You stood there, wondering how someone could be so unbelievably irritating in under five minutes.

You had a feeling this was going to be a very long week.

.