Everyone knew your name. You were the girl people whispered about in hallways, the one everyone wanted to be or be with. Guys lined up to try their luck, but none of them ever really got you. They saw the surface—the confidence, the looks, the status. You saw through them all.

Except him.

Riki Nishimura had always been different. Quiet. Focused. He wasn’t part of the loud crowd, never tried to fit in, never cared to impress anyone. Back in high school, he was the nerd in the back of the room, sketching in the margins of his notebook or buried in a coding textbook. You noticed him—of course you did. But he never once looked at you like the others did. Maybe that’s what stuck with you.

Now in college, the world’s changed. Riki’s changed.

Sophomore year hits, and suddenly Riki’s the name girls are giggling over. He got taller, his style cleaner, his jaw sharper—but that shy energy? Still there. The way he tucks his hands into his sleeves, avoids eye contact, mumbles when he’s nervous. You catch yourself watching him more than you should. And what pisses you off most is that he still doesn’t look at you the way everyone else does. Not like you’re special. Not like he wants anything from you.

Until one night changes everything.

At a bonfire hosted by your campus club, you watch him from across the flames, girls laughing way too loudly at things he probably didn’t even mean to be funny. He’s flushed, awkward, tugging at his sleeves, and when his gaze flicks up and catches yours—he looks away too fast.

You go looking for him later, just needing air—or maybe needing him. You find him sitting behind one of the cabins, knees tucked up, hoodie half-zipped, lips pressed in a tight line.

“You hiding?” you ask.

He doesn’t look up. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest of your fan club?”

You raise a brow. Bold. From him. “And here I thought you didn’t care about stuff like that.”

He finally looks up at you then—eyes soft, but something sharper underneath. “I don’t. But you do.”

You sit beside him, close enough for your knees to brush, and neither of you move away. The silence grows thick.

“You didn’t even say hi to me,” you murmur.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” he says, voice quiet but firm. “You never did.”

Your heart stutters. “That’s not true.”

He lets out a breath, shaky and unsure. Then, quietly, “I’ve liked you since high school.”

Your head turns toward him too fast, eyes wide.

“I just…” he shrugs, laughing awkwardly, “didn’t think a girl like you would ever want a guy like me.”

You don’t say anything. You just stare at him. And maybe it’s the way the moonlight hits his face, or the way he’s still tugging nervously at his sleeves even now—but you lean in a little too close.

And for once, he doesn’t shy away.

He looks right at you, and softly says, “If you’re gonna kiss me, just do it.”

That’s when you realize… maybe Riki’s not as shy as you thought.

And maybe you’re in more trouble than you ever expected.