Season 1, Chapter 1 : Where It All Started

The classroom was nothing special—grey walls, the hum of a ceiling fan that always seemed to spin a little too slowly, the sound of pencils on paper, and the occasional cough breaking the silence. It was just another room where time didn’t seem to move, the kind of place where the hours would stretch endlessly. Yet, on the surface of this ordinary place, something quietly began to shift.

We sat on opposite sides of the room at first, the kind of classmates who only exchanged glances when a question was asked by the teacher. You weren’t loud. You didn’t draw attention to yourself. But there was something about the way you smiled when our eyes accidentally met—something small, almost imperceptible, but enough to make me pause.

The first time we spoke outside of class, it was casual—about the homework, a question that didn’t seem so important in the grand scheme of things. But in that moment, there was a flicker. A brief connection, like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze, shifting without any real direction but still falling in harmony with the wind.

Week after week, we became more than just faces in the same class. It wasn’t a dramatic friendship; it didn’t have any fanfare or grand declarations. It was the kind of quiet connection that grows silently, like roots digging deeper into the earth without anyone noticing. Conversations lingered a little longer after class, and suddenly, I found myself waiting for those small exchanges. It wasn’t the words that mattered as much as the feeling they left behind—an unspoken understanding, a comfort in knowing that when the bell rang, you’d be there.

Sometimes, our talks were nothing more than the weather or the occasional, tired complaint about the teacher. But there was something about your presence, something calm, something steady. Your laugh—so gentle, almost shy—would echo in the corners of my mind long after class ended. And those moments, though small, were enough to make the hours between our meetings feel a little less lonely.

You weren’t just someone I saw once a week anymore. You became a part of the rhythm of my days. And just like that, without even realizing it, we became friends—slowly, quietly, like the wind that shifts the branches of a tree, unnoticed yet inevitable.

We never spoke of it directly, this quiet bond between us. There was no need to. It was understood in the way our conversations started without hesitation, in the way our silences were comfortable, in the way the space between us felt natural, like the sky above and the earth below.

But even then, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—this was something more than a simple friendship. A thought, a whisper, tucked in the back of my mind like a secret carried on the wind.