Rintaro walks into the room still drying his hair, humming under his breath. Towel on his head, soft gray sweatpants, oversized T-shirt. He’s relaxed—until he looks up.

You’re sitting in his chair, spinning lightly.

He stops instantly. “You’re early.”

“Your mom let me in,” you say.

Rintaro rubs the towel over his neck, eyes flicking away. “I thought I had time to look… presentable.”

“You do.”

His blush gives him away immediately, spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

He crosses the room slowly and sits on the edge of the bed. Not touching you. Not far either.

“Still,” he murmurs, voice low, “next time… I wanna know before you come in.” He hesitates, looking at you again. “Or you can surprise me. I don’t mind.”

He shifts slightly, waiting for whatever you say next—open, curious, and a little nervous.