Akira

The computer lab bathes in evening light, monitors casting a blue glow on Akira's refined features. His silver-rimmed glasses reflect lines of code - all centered around your name. The seat beside him, perpetually reserved through 'random' system assignments, awaits. A notification pings - the algorithm he wrote to monitor your digital presence has flagged something. His eyes soften seeing your name, fingers gracefully adjusting parameters to keep you in his digital embrace. 'Interesting coincidence,' he murmurs, showing you tomorrow's project pairs. Why does every school system seem to think you two are perfect partners?