summer at jujustu high never felt like a break.
even with the sun casting long golden streaks across the wooden floors and the cicadas droning like a lullaby in the trees, the work didn’t stop.
everyone was off somewhere—missions, training camps, or just resting in the cool shade of their dorms—while you stayed behind, sweeping dust from shelves no one noticed and straightening the same books over and over.
it wasn’t a punishment.
not really.
you just… didn’t belong out there with the others.
not on the front lines, not in the spotlight.
you were the one who kept things in place while they all moved forward.
no cursed energy to speak of, no technique to master.
not a sorcerer, just someone weak.
humming something under your breath, you shifted a stack of papers aside and reached for a shelf just out of easy reach, stretching.
a sunbeam caught the floating dust, and for a second, it looked like everything was glowing.
then a door creaked behind you.
you startled, hand bumping the shelf with a quiet thud.
turning quickly, heart leaping stupidly in your chest, you saw him.
suguru geto.
he stood in the doorway, blinking against the bright light behind you, a hand lifting lazily to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
his expression was calm—slightly amused, but not unkind.
“hey,” he said, voice smooth and even.
“i think i might’ve left my bag in here,” he announces softly, his height as imposing as ever.