Chapter 14 — A New Seat by the Window
The second week of the new semester brought a strange kind of stillness. The thrill of seeing Elira return had begun to fade, replaced by quiet curiosity.
The students had more or less adjusted to the idea that the "weird twins"—as they'd once so cruelly dubbed them—were now integral to the rhythm of the class.
Elena was steadily becoming known for her essays that often earned her top marks, and Elira's art had become the unofficial aesthetic of Class 2-B.
But change rarely arrived all at once. It seeped into corners, softened rough edges, and sometimes, found its way into unexpected places—like the seating chart.
"Alright," homeroom teacher Ms. Hoshino announced on Tuesday morning, "we're going to do a seating reshuffle. It's good to keep things fresh, and we'll do this randomly, like always."
Elira's stomach dropped.
Elena looked equally tense. Both girls had always sat near the back corner of the room, side by side, where they could keep to themselves.
It was their safe zone. Being split up—or worse, stuck between indifferent or unfriendly classmates—was a haunting thought.
Kaito, who'd been sipping from a juice box, looked up. "Want me to ask her to keep you two together?"
Elena shook her head. "If it's random, we shouldn't interfere."
Elira offered a small, nervous smile. "We'll manage."
The slips were drawn.
As names were called and seats assigned, Elena was placed on the left side of the classroom, two rows from the front. Elira was called a moment later.
"…next to the window, seat three. Beside Kaito," Ms. Hoshino said.
Elira blinked. Kaito blinked back.
She shuffled toward the window, her steps tentative.
"You okay with this?" Kaito asked quietly as she slid into the seat beside him.
"I think so," Elira said. "I've never sat in this row before."
"You're in good company."
She glanced out the window. From here, the school courtyard stretched in shades of green and soft gold.
The sunlight filtered through the trees, dancing across her desk. She pulled out her sketchbook and, without thinking, began to draw the view.
At lunch, Elena joined them with her bento box in hand.
"So, how's life next to class president?" she teased.
Kaito raised a brow. "I'm sitting right here."
Elira smiled. "It's nice. There's a good breeze."
"What are you drawing?"
Elira turned the sketchpad. It showed the classroom, detailed in pencil lines with soft shading, but every student had been replaced by a different type of flower.
Elena was a chrysanthemum, soft and layered. Kaito was a sunflower, tall and warm.
"I'm the noisy one, huh?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "You stand out, and people turn to you without realizing."
Kaito rubbed the back of his neck. "That's… oddly flattering."
Elira hesitated. "I've been thinking… I want to submit something new for the cultural festival. Not just drawings, but maybe a short story with illustrations. Maybe something you write, Elena."
Elena's eyes lit up. "Like a doujinshi?"
"Something like that. But personal. Real."
Kaito leaned in. "Want help with planning? I'm on the organizing committee."
Elira looked at him. "You'd help us?"
He smiled. "Of course. I'm class president, remember?"
...
That afternoon, the club rooms buzzed with renewed energy. The Art Club welcomed Elira back with an informal gathering.
She'd been named one of their representatives for the year and was quickly pulled into conversations about themes, budgets, and layout ideas.
Meanwhile, Elena's Literature Club was equally excited. Her latest short story, "Paper Wings," had been featured in the school's summer newsletter and received praise from both students and teachers.
As the twins made their way home that evening, the golden hour light spilled across the street, turning even cracked sidewalks into something beautiful.
"I was scared we'd be split further apart," Elena admitted.
Elira nodded. "Me too. But maybe… some space is okay. Like different pages in the same book."
Elena bumped her shoulder gently. "Still the poet."
"I've been listening to you too much."
They both laughed.
The next day, Elira found something unexpected in her shoe locker.
A folded note.
She unfolded it with cautious fingers.
Your art is beautiful. You make the world look softer than it is.
No name. No signature.
She stared at the paper for a long time before tucking it into her notebook.
Kaito noticed her silence during lunch.
"Something up?"
She debated for a moment before showing him the note.
"Anonymous?" he asked.
She nodded.
"You think it's genuine?"
"I don't know. But it felt… kind."
Kaito tapped his fingers against the edge of his lunchbox. "Sometimes people don't know how to say things aloud. Maybe this was their way."
Elira glanced at him. "Did you write it?"
He grinned. "Would I be that subtle?"
"No," she said, and smiled.
After school, they stayed behind to brainstorm ideas for the cultural festival project. Kaito brought his notebook filled with committee notes, and the twins brought sketches and story drafts.
"I think we should tell a story about two girls who see the world differently," Elena said.
"One sees words, the other sees pictures. They both live in the same town, but they never meet until something brings them together."
"Let me guess," Kaito said. "A class president?"
Elira laughed. "Maybe a sunflower."
Kaito made a mock-wounded expression. "You two never let me win."
"You're not supposed to win," Elena said. "You're supposed to lead."
And that was what he did—quietly, patiently, helping arrange timelines, order materials, and schedule presentation space.
By the time the sun set, they were still in the classroom, outlines spread across desks, colored pens in a heap, and two half-eaten snack bars between them.
"It's going to be amazing," Elira whispered as she shaded in a panel. "For once… we're showing people our real selves."
"Not hiding," Elena added. "Not apologizing."
Kaito looked at them, and in that quiet glow of orange light, saw something he hadn't fully realized before.
They weren't just girls who needed protection.
They were girls who had learned how to shine.
And maybe, just maybe, he was lucky enough to stand in their light.
That night, as they walked home under the purple twilight sky, Elira found herself glancing back at the school.
It wasn't just a building anymore. It was becoming something else.
A place where they belonged.
A place where stories began.
To be continued...