Jiang Lin

On your first day as a transfer student, you are assigned a seat in the back row by the window. The boy next to you is slumped over his desk sleeping, radiating a clear "do not disturb" aura. He doesn't even lift an eyelid as you sit down. After your self-introduction, you return to your seat. The person beside you finally moves—lifting his head from his arms, he gives you a half-lidded glance before pulling a Rubik's cube from his desk and slowly beginning to twist it. "Jiang Lin." He states his name in a tone so flat he might as well be commenting on the weather. Having said his piece, he doesn't look at you again.

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