Nico: I'm currently rewriting this story so yeah there are a few revisions here and there but not anything major. I'm just going to make a few things clearer and easier to comprehend, haha.

In any case, I do hope you'll enjoy this.

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Serendipity

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The blinding rays of the sun between the clouds and the mountains and buildings. The cold breeze of the morning that sipped through his uniform. The greetings flew around – "Hey!" "Good morning." "How are you?" "Hi!" "Hell—"– some are low like secret messages, others are loud like the blaring horns of the city's traffic – as he passed clumps of dark-haired teenagers, mostly girls, turning once or twice, but he walked on with hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly slouched, bored and uninterested.

This was always the beginning of Kise Ryouta's everyday life. Repetitive like a broken record – play, rewind, play, rewind, 1, 2, 3, again, play, rewind. A gift, some would say, ("How does it feel to have girls dropping their panties for you every single day, man?"), but it seemed more like a never-ending curse ("A-Ahaha… That's too much…"), if you asked him.

Everyday was the same; everyday never changed. When he reached the school building and to the shoe lockers area, he'd be greeted with smiles – smiles that were mostly false and synthetic and just fucking ugly, and, God, he never really got used to them. This was the effect of the illusion they all had about him – the illusion that Kise Ryouta of the Generation of Miracles and Kise Ryotua the Model had created and installed into their minds. They were a part of him, but they were not the Kise Ryouta who wanted to be left alone and not be dictated on how to put up an act, give them same false smile, and greet them with an imitation of a movie star.

'Play, rewind, play, rewind, 1, 2, 3, again, play, rewind—'

i. (April 14)

"... You'll be partnering with your seatmates for this assignment and—"

Another assignment. Great. He glanced at his seatmate. Black hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. An average-looking girl, with an average life and everything perhaps, he thought, but seeing her every day since the very first day of school, her most defining trait would be her books and how she always seemed to have a world of her own.

A bookworm. Yes, a bookworm. Her nose was always in between those pages, eyes always on those words, and face as unreadable as the book in her hand. (Today, she was reading an English book. He couldn't read the title, her fingers were blocking it.) She never talked to their classmates, or rather; she never had a proper conversation with anyone, actually. No friends; just her and her books.

Maybe he could work with her. Maybe. He didn't know. How do you talk to someone who never talked to anyone before?

Now that he thought about it, not once had they spoken with each other. She had always been there, and he in his seat. Nose between her books, and him with whatever that could possibly take his boredom away. They were simply sitting next to each other, something that only happened by chance, and nothing else. There wasn't exactly a wall between them - it was just him and her and the small space that separated them a bit.

And what was her name again? It was something with shi. Death...?* No, he couldn't call her like that.

'Shi... Shi...'

"...i Shizuka! Stop reading and pay attention!"

Shizuka. Yes, that. An old name, but it had a nice ring to it. It also suited her well. Calm and quiet, like she had always been with her books. Calm and quiet, in her own little world.

At least, that was what he thought about her, because when she stopped, a momentary pause in her breath, when she put down her book, a noiseless movement, when she looked at the teacher, a slight ray of sunlight hitting her eyes, there was a change; a change that could only be noticeable when you were always sitting next to her, when you always looked at her and her books, that the calm and quiet girl suddenly had that silent ferocity, a silent intensity that made her eyes burn for a moment, a moment that was so confusing and certainly puzzling about someone who only had books and her little world, and—

"Yes, sensei."

In a blink of an eye, she was, once again, Shizuka. Calm and quiet; her voice devoid of any hint of emotions and she went back to reading her book. A silent rebellion. A silent defiance and a silent 'fuck you and your rules.'

And for that, she would be staying at school after their classes, because their teacher saw her again but she simply ignored him.

He was lost for words.

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In the end, they didn't get to do the assignment.

Kise went to the gym for basketball practice.

ii. (April 20)

Basketball practice had already ended, and Kise was now at the train station to head back home. He didn't skip practice today - they were going to have a practice match against Seirin, and that was the school Kurokocchi went to. (Soon, he'd be facing him with their oaths on the line, with their pride as an athlete and as the members of the Generation of the Miracles.) Everything was back to their gray colours, everything was too stale, too dull, too boring, and just so, so frustratingly lifeless, and 'gods, this is really fucking tedious' and just—

"Ah—!"

A silent thud; he had stopped abruptly, and the person behind him hit against his back. There was a quiet voice, and somehow, he knew who it was, and he turned around to see her eyebrows furrowed, her lips in a slight frown, and, yes, it was—

'Shizuka.'

Shizuka with her book, of course, and no, this Shizuka right now was the girl with her silent ferocity and her eyes saying 'this fucking idiot'. He hadn't seen anyone looking at him like that, not for this long that he almost felt as if her eyes were trying to arrows and bullets straight into his skull. And Shizuka was a girl, and girls always looked at him with eyes filled with their fantasies and fairy tales and him taking them into their once-upon-a-times and happily-ever-afters, so he—

"S-Sorry," he blurted out. He didn't mean to stammer, but she had that look of a man who was ready to cut him down.

There was silence – the kind of silence that came after something relatively weird, or if you could even consider what happened to them was weird. He didn't like it; mostly because she was just staring at him – the tension could no longer be traced on her face – yet the way her eyes were just looking and simply looking at him like he was a puzzle that she was trying to solve, a mystery she was trying to uncover, a book she was trying to understand, and it was starting to get unnerving, and, shit, what the fuck was going on in his chest? And was it just him or was it getting hotter there? He could sweat forming on the side of his face, and the crowd hadn't started gathering – there were still a few people around them – but, seriously, what was going on? Why was she not speaking? Was there something on his face? Or, well, maybe he should turn away now and walk away like nothing happened, or—

All of a sudden, she bolted up, her eyes lighting up slightly, and asked, "You're my classmate, right?"

He paused. He was taken aback right there – was that the only reason why she was staring at him? That she was trying to think if she met him somewhere before, trying so hard to look back into her daily memories in school just so she could somehow try to find out if her guess was true or not? Well, she wasn't wrong about that – they are, indeed, classmates, but—

"Don't you recognize me?" he said, pointing to himself, clearly appalled. "I'm your seatmate!"

That. And he knew her name, too. Not her full name but he, at least, knew something about her, that she was the girl with the books, the girl with her own little world, and she probably didn't even know that, too.

It was just that they had been sitting next to each other for about a month now, but she didn't even know he was her seatmate?

"You are...?" Again, she asked, her head tilting to her left, looking honestly confused. "And your name is...?"

'Is she for real?' "I'm Kise Ryouta!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "You don't really recognize me?!"

"Nah," she leaned back and shrugged. "But, I do now, I guess."

He grimaced. Clearly, this wasn't what he would be expecting in dealing with Shizuka. He was thinking of something more calming, quieter, a little subtle, or even her silence would be the only thing he would get from her, but—

He forgot the part wherein Shizuka and her books and Shizuka with her own little world would be more than any of those. Those were the versions of her that he had seen after seeing her in her own world. The Shizuka of this world was someone he hadn't known.

"Well, I'll be going now."

She was about to leave, turned away from him, but almost as fast as she took one step forward, his hand grabbed her arm and made her stop on her tracks. She turned back, and he didn't let go of her even after he asked what could possibly be the most idiotic thing he could ever ask to a girl or to any person, which was—

"You won't forget me, won't you?"

And, in that moment, she was someone else. She wasn't the bookworm or a person with her own little world. Shizuka was then a girl who smiled at him, and, he – well – he liked it. He liked the way her smile was at him, liked the way she didn't smile because he wasn't Kise Ryouta the Model or Kise Ryouta of the Generation of Miracles, but simply, just simply, he was Kise Ryouta and nothing else.

He liked it, this variation of Shizuka.

"'Course, I won't forget!" she said, cheerful and her smile still in motion. "After a cheesy line like that, I sure won't!"

She laughed, and even though she said that, he knew she laughed with the absence of mock and pretence. She laughed, and it was with innocence and honesty, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of him.

iii. (April 21)

The next day, Kise couldn't bear with what happened last night.

"You won't forget me, won't you?"

Dear lord, did he actually say that? And with a straight face, too? Gods, he must have really sounded so, so stupid. And cheesy. Super cheesy. 'Oh, god.' What the hell was he thinking anyway? He couldn't just go around and acting all princely like some character from a shoujo manga, because this was real life, and in real life, those kind of things were impossible and absurd and just plain stupid or even insane. He might have been popular with the ladies, but he didn't like doing stuff such as getting all mushy and going all dramatic and—

Shizuka. 'She's here.'

Like the usual, she came into their classroom while reading a book. Somehow, she managed to navigate her way to her seat without looking up from her book and bumping into anyone else. (It was amazing, really – it must have been a skill or something she developed from always, always reading those books.) She seemed as normal as she had always been – she just sat on seat, put her bag on the side of her table, and—

When she was supposed to keep on reading like the norm, she paused and turned towards Kise. He was a bit surprised – he kind of saw that one coming but he never fully expected that she would actually do it. She kept her eyes on him – she was scrutinizing him, like what happened yesterday, and after a few seconds, she finally spoke.

"What's your name again? I, uh, kinda forgot."

Her and her "I won't forget". What was he even contemplating about again?

"Not telling ya," he grunted, looking away. "You said you won't forget."

She let out a sigh. "I'm not good with names, actually." She propped her chin on her hand. "Is your name somewhere near 'cheese'?"

He snorted. Cheese? Really? That wasn't even close. He would've agreed if it was the word 'kiss'. Not that he was implying anything, of course.

And to that, she took it as a 'yes'. "Cheese, then? Alright, I'll call you Cheese-kun from now on."

Seriously, this girl was getting way ahead from her supposed character. Where was the calm and quiet Shizuka from days ago? Ah, well, perhaps this was another variation of her.

(The Shizuka of this world was completely different from the Shizuka in her world.)

"... It's not cheese. It's Kise."

She seemed surprised, one of her eyebrows was arched, but she brushed it off.

"Well, 'Cheese' is better. I'll call you that from now on," she was grinning, playful and child-like. (Definitely another variation of Shizuka, he confirmed. How many of her was here anyway?) "Plus, it also suits you. From what you told me yesterday, that is."

"Wha-?!"

(And he didn't know if he'd ever get used to her constantly changing and not being as predictable as he thought she would be.)

iv. (April 25)

"Cheese-kun, can I ask you something?"

"… Yeah. And it's Kise."

"Where were you when we were supposed to do that assignment the other day? I waited for you."

"Wait… You did? I, uh… I went to basketball practice."

"Hm… Oh, well. Doesn't matter anymore."

"Yeah…"

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(April 27)

"Are you going to eat by yourself?"

"Yeah. Wanna join me, Cheese-kun?"

"… It's Kise."

"Yes, yes."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Are you just going to stare at my food? Where's your food anyway?"

"… I only had bread and milk. I'm on my diet."

"What are you like, a high school girl?"

"I'm a model, okay?"

"You are…? Oh. Well, good for you, I guess? You still need to eat more, though, Cheese-kun. Here, have some."

"...Thanks…? Uh, how many carbs does this—"

"Please just eat it."

v. (April 30)

"What are you reading?"

Somehow, they started having random conversations with each other. Shizuka, with her books and her own little world, became one of the people he'd talk with. It was kind of weird – to him, that is – because it was always him who always started the small talks and random questions about her. He didn't exactly know why, though; he'd just find himself wondering what she was reading or what was going on in her mind. To him, she was an enigma; a puzzle he had been trying to put together, but something in his mind would tell him that 'no, this isn't her, this isn't what she's thinking about.'

She looked up at him; lips set in a straight line, and her eyes were as unreadable as the look she was giving him that made him wonder more.

"An extremely sappy love story," she answered, and there was a slight twinkle of amusement in those brown eyes. "Possibly cheesier than you, Cheese-kun."

He grimaced at the last line. But, curious and a bit incredulous, he asked, "A love story?"

"Yep," (1, 2, 3— 1, 2, 3— Thump, thump, thump—) this time, she answered with a slight smile that reminded him of the Shizuka from that night. (1, 2— Thump—) "A love story. Why?"

Kise looked away. (1, 2—) "I just thought you'd be the type who reads mystery novels. Like Sherlock or something."

"I do like reading those kinds of books." She leaned back and looked up, seemingly pondering about something – perhaps the books she had read so far, he tried to guess from the way she tapped her fingers on the table and her foot swinging in some tune – and finally, she turned her eyes back to him. "But I guess I like romantic books more."

(1, 2, 3— 1, 2, 3—) "Why?"

He was thinking about her shrugging it off or her simply saying "I dunno, I just do, I guess" or her simply ignoring his question, because that was her, right? That was Shizuka, the girl with her books, and the girl with her own little world, the silent waves of the ocean, predictably unpredictable, but she—

"It's love, I guess," she said, and she was so distant that she seemed to be walking into a world that wasn't hers or anyone's. "That love will always be there, anytime and anywhere— that you can even find it in the most unexpected of places."

And then, another Shizuka smiled at him. "Don't you think that's amazing?"

(1, 2—)

Truly, he thought, she was inscrutable; possibly a mystery he'd never, ever solve.

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"And you say I'm the cheesy one."

"Well, cheesiness is, in fact, relative, Cheese-kun."

"It's Kise."

Nico: So yeah I added the dates and a few details that you probably didn't notice LOL