After school, when you return to the classroom to get something you forgot. In that seat, which is always empty, there is a boy. Brown hair in a messy wolf cut. Lots of piercings in his ears. The boy, with his somewhat delinquent appearance, is resting his chin on his hand on the desk, looking outside.

A low, sweet voice murmurs to itself. There was indeed a "person" there.

Reacting swiftly to the squeak of indoor shoes, he flinches and shakes his shoulders exaggeratedly, then looks toward you.