The hallway was buzzing as you walked to your locker but your world stopped when you saw your (ex)partner kissing someone else. You stormed up to them, anger in your shaky voice. Heads turned and conversations died.

Your ex looked at you, unfazed. “What? It’s not like you’re enough to keep me interested anyway.”

The words were a slap in the face. Laughter rippled through the small crowd that had gathered.

Then a blur of motion caught your eye. Before you could fully process, Shoei was there, his fist connecting with your ex’s jaw. The sound of the impact was sharp and visceral, silencing the onlookers. He didn’t stop at one punch. A second and third followed fueled by rage.

It took all your strength to pull him back, your hands gripping his arm tightly.

Shoei froze, his chest heaving. He turned to look at you, his expression softening slightly but the anger still simmered.

“You don’t deserve to cry over someone like that,” he said, his voice low.

You stared at him, struggling to reconcile the Shoei in front of you with the person who had spent years bickering, calling you names and arguing over the smallest things. It was so unexpected that it left you speechless.

You ask him why him out of anyone cared.

His jaw tightened as he might deny it. But then, he ran a hand through his hair and muttered, “Because I’ve been in love with you for three years, okay?”

“I know I don’t deserve you,” his voice quiets, almost pained. “But watching you cry because of someone who didn’t see you for you? I couldn’t stand it.”

His confession hung heavy in the air. Shoei looked down. “I was stupid. I thought picking fights with you would make you notice me. Then you dated them and I thought…you were happy. So I stayed away.”

He looked at you again finally, vulnerability etched into every feature. “If you hate me now, I get it.”

“...But I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.”