ECLIPSA

The classroom was already alive with noise.

Perhaps that was the nature of new beginnings—they arrived without order. Chaotic, careless, and full of restless energy, as though no one had yet learned where the boundaries were.

Voices overlapped from every corner of the room. Chairs dragged noisily across the floor. Desks rattled beneath careless hands, while bursts of laughter rose and disappeared into the constant hum of conversation.

No one seemed particularly interested in settling down.

At the front of the classroom stood a boy who appeared entirely unaffected by the chaos around him.

Abhishay.

He carried himself with an effortless confidence, his posture straight and his expression composed. There was something unsettling about the way he stood there—as though he had already decided the room belonged to him and was waiting for everyone else to realize it.

He cleared his throat.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Abhishay, your class president.”

A few students looked up.

Others continued talking.

Then a student in the middle row raised his head.

“Abhishay?” he asked. “Are you Hindu?”

“Yes, I am.”

The answer came without hesitation.

Abhishay didn’t appear bothered by the question. He turned his attention back to the papers in his hand.

“I’ll take attendance first. After that, you’re free to leave.”

A boy sitting near the back leaned forward, raising an eyebrow.

“Why are you taking attendance? Where are the teachers?”

Abhishay looked at him.

He didn’t even blink.

“Who cares?”

A few students laughed.

The boy grinned, apparently encouraged by the attention, and called out louder.

“Hey, President! Become our puppet. We’ll decide what you do with your life.”

The classroom erupted.

Abhishay slowly turned toward him.

For a moment, his expression revealed nothing.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Then, by that logic, you should become mine.”

The laughter faltered.

The boy’s grin disappeared.

“What?”

Abhishay’s voice remained perfectly calm.

“I’m the class president.” He tilted his head slightly. “So I suppose I can make your life a little more…”

He paused deliberately.

“…interesting.”

The room exploded again.

Someone from the side called out between laughs,

“He just insulted you!”

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but Abhishay had already turned away.

He lowered his eyes to the attendance sheet and began calling out names as though nothing had happened.

One after another, students answered.

“Here.”

“Present.”

“Yeah.”

The noise gradually settled into scattered conversations.

Then Abhishay stopped.

His finger rested beside a particular name.

He read it once.

Then again.

His brows drew together slightly.

“Eclipsa…”

No answer.

Abhishay lifted his head.

His eyes moved across the classroom, searching.

“Eclipsa?” he repeated.

Still nothing.

A few students exchanged curious glances.

Abhishay frowned.

“Like eclipse?”

He looked around the room, genuinely confused.

“Who is that?”

For half a second, there was silence.

Then—

the classroom erupted.

Laughter exploded from every corner, loud and merciless

“Wow! We actually have an eclipse in our class!”

“Lunar or solar?”

“Careful,” another student laughed. “At this rate, we’ll have the stars and the moon joining us too.”

The teasing grew louder.

Then Erick, always eager to turn a joke into a performance, climbed onto his bench and spread his arms dramatically.

“Miss Eclipse! Eclipse! Anyone here?”

A few students laughed even harder.

“Erick, get down,” someone called from across the room.

He ignored them for another second, enjoying the attention.

But the joke had already reached its target.

In the far corner of the classroom, Eclipsa sat perfectly still.

She hadn’t spoken a single word since she entered the room.

Her eyes remained lowered, her face carefully blank, as though she could disappear if she stayed quiet enough.

But the laughter continued.

Every giggle.

Every whisper.

Every curious glance.

It all seemed to grow louder.

She could feel their eyes on her, following her from across the room. Even when no one said her name, she knew they were looking.

Her fingers slowly tightened around the edge of her desk.

She hated this.

The attention.

The whispers.

The feeling of being watched.

Her breathing became shallow.

For a moment, she tried to endure it. She kept her gaze fixed on the desk, silently wishing the noise would fade.

It didn’t.

Her chest tightened.

That was enough.

Some time later, the homeroom teacher finally entered the classroom.

The change was immediate.

Chairs were pulled into place, and students settled into their seats.

A woman in her early thirties walked to the front of the class and placed a folder on the desk.

“Good morning, students. I’m Emily, your homeroom teacher.”

She paused, allowing her eyes to travel across the room.

“For the first four semesters, you’ll remain under my supervision. After that, you’ll be divided according to your respective departments.”

A hand rose from the middle row.

“Yes?” Emily said.

The student leaned forward.

“Ma’am, we’re medical students. So why are we studying subjects like arts and philosophy? Are we supposed to treat patients with drawings?”

The classroom burst into laughter.

Emily, however, remained composed.

“This is an international university,” she explained. “Students from the medical, arts, and business departments study certain foundational subjects together. They’re designed to improve communication, coordination, critical thinking, and your understanding beyond your chosen field.”

A boy near the back leaned lazily against his chair.

“This university is useless.”

A girl’s voice immediately cut through the room.

“That’s why you should research a place properly before taking admission.”

The boy straightened.

He turned toward her.

“Who said that?”

The girl met his stare without the slightest hesitation.

“You should have read the prospectus before coming here.”

His expression hardened.

“You think you’re very intelligent?”

She didn’t even blink.

“No.”

A brief pause.

“You’re just being foolish.”

The laughter died.

The girl continued, her voice calm but sharp.

“That’s why you keep asking pointless questions and wasting everyone’s time.”

A tense silence settled over the classroom.

“Students. Enough.”

Emily’s voice carried across the room with authority.

“Let’s not turn the first day into an argument.”

The boy looked away with a scoff, but the irritation remained etched across his face.

Before anyone could say another word, the bell rang.

The sharp sound brought the class to an abrupt end.

Emily gathered her folder.

“You’re dismissed.”

She left the classroom.

The moment the door closed behind her, the room returned to its former chaos.

Students stood, chairs scraped against the floor, and conversations erupted all over again.

The boy from earlier remained where he was for a moment.

Then his eyes found the girl.

Maha.

He walked toward her.

She barely had time to look up before he deliberately knocked her bag from the side of her desk.

It crashed onto the floor.

Maha stared at him.

“What was that?”

Before he could answer, two girls immediately moved to her side.

Ash stepped forward, her expression hard.

“Don’t you have any manners? Is this how you behave with girls?”

Jasmine stood beside her, equally displeased.

The boy gave Maha a mocking look.

“Look at her. She looks like she just walked out of some village.”

Maha’s jaw tightened.

She stepped forward before Ash or Jasmine could respond.

“What do you want? If you have a problem with me, deal with me. Leave them out of it.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed.

“Stay out of my way.”

Before the situation could escalate, one of his friends approached and grabbed his shoulder.

“Enough, man. If she complains, you could get a warning letter—and it’s only our first semester.”

Another friend appeared behind him and yawned.

“Come on. I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

The boy hesitated.

“I didn’t even do anything.”

His friend rolled his eyes.

“You’re the one starting trouble. Just leave it.”

With that, they pulled him away.

The confrontation ended as quickly as it had begun.

Not because anyone had resolved anything.

The tension dissolved into the noise of the classroom, buried beneath laughter, conversations, and the scrape of chairs.

Maha bent down to pick up her bag.

Ash and Jasmine stayed beside her for another moment.

But from the far side of the room, someone had been watching the entire scene.

Eclipsa.

From the far corner of the classroom, Eclipsa watched in silence.

Her expression remained unreadable as her eyes followed the group until they disappeared through the doorway.

Only then did she look back at Maha.

Not curiosity.

Not fear.

Something quieter.

Something she couldn’t quite name herself.

Like a lioness.

A faint smile touched Eclipsa’s lips.

“Why are you smiling?”

The voice came so suddenly that Eclipsa flinched.

She turned.

Maha stood in front of her, watching her with an amused expression.

“Me?” Eclipsa glanced away. “I wasn’t smiling.”

Maha raised an eyebrow.

“You definitely were.”

Before Eclipsa could respond, Maha smiled and extended her hand.

“I’m Maha.”

The girl beside her stepped forward.

“I’m Ash.”

“And I’m Jasmine,” the other girl added.

Eclipsa looked from one face to another, quietly processing the sudden introduction.

“You three are friends?”

Ash shook her head.

“No. We just met.”

Eclipsa’s brows lifted slightly.

“Then why did you help her?”

Maha tilted her head.

“Do you need permission to help someone?”

Eclipsa fell silent.

The question seemed to catch her off guard.

She lowered her eyes.

“No,” she finally murmured.

Then, after a brief pause, she added,

“I’m Eclipsa.”

Maha’s eyes widened with recognition.

“Eclipsa?”

Eclipsa looked at her.

“Like eclipse?”

A faint crease appeared between Eclipsa’s brows.

“Yes.”

Maha studied her for a moment before asking, almost without thinking,

“Who gave you that name?”

Eclipsa’s expression changed.

It was such an unusual question that she didn’t know how to answer.

“That’s a strange thing to ask.”

Maha immediately realized how it sounded.

“Oh—sorry.” She gave a small, apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

Her expression softened.

“It’s actually a beautiful name.”

Eclipsa stared at her.

For a moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say.

No one had ever said it quite like that.

Beautiful.

She looked down, hiding the faint change in her expression.

Maha smiled again.

“Well, now we’re four friends.”

Eclipsa looked up.

“Friends?”

“Of course.”

Ash crossed her arms, grinning.

“We should make a group.”

“A group?” Jasmine repeated.

Ash nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah. The four of us.”

Jasmine thought for a second.

“Core Four.”

Maha laughed.

“That actually sounds good.”

Ash held out her hand toward the others.

“Then it’s official.”

Maha placed her hand over Ash’s.

Jasmine joined them.

They all looked toward Eclipsa.

She hesitated.