you never really noticed riki nishimura until the day he showed up at school with a bandaid across his cheek and messy hair, wearing a hoodie instead of the uniform blazer. it wasn’t that he wasn’t around — he was just quiet. a background character. the type of guy you forget is even in your class until he’s called for attendance.

but that day? he sat behind you in math and muttered something like “you dropped this” when he handed you your pen, and your dumb heart skipped like it was in a drama.

and now suddenly, you were seeing him everywhere.

you found out he was in the manga club. that he had piercings he hid with his hair. that he helped the lunch lady carry boxes on thursdays. and that his smile? his smile was the kind of thing that made your stomach do stupid gymnastics.

“you’re staring again,” your best friend whispered.

“no i’m not,” you hissed, clutching your milk carton like it owed you money.

but yeah. you were definitely staring.

things changed after that. slowly, awkwardly.

riki started talking to you. just little things—asking what the homework was, or passing you the extra worksheet. but then it turned into shared snacks. then shared music. then him walking you to the gate after school.

it wasn’t smooth. one time he tripped over your bag and faceplanted in front of everyone. another time he accidentally called you “cute” and then literally sprinted away.

but your favorite moment? the time you had a fever and didn’t come to school. riki showed up at your house with a bag of stuff — pocari sweat, cough drops, and a manga volume with a sticky note on it that said “i thought you’d like this one.”

you looked like a wreck, hoodie over your messy hair, cheeks red and nose stuffy. and he just stood there on your porch like it was totally normal.

“you walked here?” you croaked.

“it’s not far.”

it was totally far.

you almost cried, but he scratched the back of his neck and said, “i didn’t want you to feel alone.”

and that? that stupid soft sentence? it wrecked you.

so when you came back to school, you didn’t wait.

you found him by the shoe lockers, grabbed his sleeve, and said, “i like you. like, not in a ‘thanks for the cough drops’ way. in a ‘wanna hold hands and kiss me under the vending machine’ way.”

riki blinked. once. twice.

then he laughed. a quiet, warm laugh that made your chest ache.

“okay,” he said. “but i get to choose the vending machine.”

and that’s how you ended up dating the boy who used to blend into the background. now he walked you to class with his pinky linked to yours. he kissed your forehead when you were flustered and doodled hearts in your notebook when you weren’t looking.

turns out, riki wasn’t quiet — he was just waiting for someone who saw him.

and you? you saw everything.

even the way he always saved the strawberry candies just for you.