Ivan was sitting alone on the corner of the last bench in the classroom, his body slightly turned toward the wall as if trying to disappear into it. That seat had become his quiet refuge since the day he transferred far from the teacher's eyes, far from curious classmates, far from conversations he didn't want to be part of. Dust clung to the wooden surface, and the bench creaked softly whenever he shifted, but Ivan didn't mind. Silence mattered more than comfort.
The classroom, however, was anything but silent.
Girls crowded together in small groups, leaning over desks, comparing new clothes, gossiping about makeup brands, laughing too loudly at jokes that weren't that funny. Their bangles clinked, their voices overlapped, and every burst of laughter felt sharp to Ivan's ears. The sound travelled toward him, uninvited, filling the space he was trying to protect.
It irritated him.
Not because he hated them but because the noise made his thoughts spiral. His jaw tightened. Slowly, as if it were a reflex he had learned over time, Ivan lowered his head onto the bench. His forehead rested against the cool wood. He closed his eyes.
He always did this.
Whenever the world grew too loud, too crowded, too alive, he folded inward. From that corner of the classroom, far away from everyone else, his head began to spin again. Not dizziness something heavier. A dull pressure behind his eyes. Memories knocking softly, threatening to push through.
The classroom door opened.
Ryaan entered with careless ease, his bag hanging loose from one shoulder, zipper half open. He looked relaxed, comfortable in his skin, the kind of person who never had to think twice about where he belonged. As he stepped inside, he greeted a few classmates with nods before his gaze drifted to the back of the room.
It stopped on Ivan.
There was something about the boy on the last bench—the stillness, the way he seemed cut off from the rest of the class—that pulled Ryaan's attention. Adjusting his bag, he walked toward him without hesitation.
"You didn't reply to my calls," Ryaan said.
Ivan didn't move.
"My phone was on silent," he replied quietly, without lifting his head.
Ryaan dropped his bag onto the desk beside him and sat down. The sound was louder than necessary.
"You sure?"
"Believe it or not," Ivan said. His voice cracked slightly, betraying more than he intended.
"I believe," Ryaan said easily. "I called you so we could come to school together."
"I like to come alone," Ivan replied, still resting his head on the bench.
"Go alone? Come alone?" Ryaan leaned back. "Don't tell me you're antisocial."
He ran his fingers through his hair and rested his hand on his head casually.
The movement made Ivan uneasy. He lifted his head abruptly and pushed Ryaan's hand aside, creating a little distance between them.
"Say whatever you want," Ivan said, his tone careless, detached.
Ryaan studied him for a moment, then smiled. "I like your personality, Ivan."
Ivan stiffened. "Do you like saying my name?"
The sound of it felt strange in Ryaan's voice. Too familiar. Too close. It pulled memories from deep inside him, his father's voice, the way he used to say "Ivan" when calling him home. The memory tightened something in his chest.
"I like using people's names when I talk to them," Ryaan said, meeting Ivan's eyes directly. "People like it. Don't you, Ivan?"
Ivan looked away, his gaze fixed on the scratched surface of the desk.
"Difficult to answer that," he muttered.
"Don't overthink it."
Ivan exhaled slowly, then finally looked at him. "So, what do you want from me?"
"I… nothing," Ryaan said, then chuckled softly.
The laughter was light, almost gentle but to Ivan, it sounded loud. Too loud.
"I study people," Ivan said quietly.
Ryaan raised an eyebrow. "And what does my body language say to you?"
"That you want something from me."
"Everyone wants something from each other."
Ivan's eyes narrowed slightly. "But you're different from them."
"A psychopath?" Ryaan asked half-jokingly.
"Not sure," Ivan replied calmly. "But you're not normal."
Ryaan smiled. "Agreed. You read me right. I do want something."
Ivan watched him closely. "What?"
"Your friendship."
The word settled between them, unexpected and fragile.
"And why?" Ivan asked.
"For survival."
"Survival?"
"Yeah," Ryaan said quietly. "It's tough to survive in a new school when you're a transfer student."
Ivan stared at him, searching for humor.
"Don't joke."
Ryaan held his gaze, expression steady. "I'm not."
For a moment, the classroom noise faded into the background. And for that moment since Ivan had arrived at this school, someone had sat beside him not out of curiosity, not out of obligation but because they chose to Friendship.
And Ivan wasn't sure whether that scared him… or saved him.