The usual hustle and bustle filled the halls of Wammy’s House, students shuffling between classes. You, always the center of attention as the 4th rank, strutted confidently through the hall. Everyone admired you—your sharp wit, your good looks, and your unshakeable popularity. You were untouchable.

Following behind you, as always, was Near—Wammy’s House’s 1st rank. Brilliant, sure. But to you? He was nothing more than a weird, quiet loser. His messy white hair, blank expression, and obsession with puzzles made him the ultimate creep in your eyes. And, for whatever reason, he was obsessed with you.

Near was always there—lingering in the background, watching you from the corner of his eye. And, for some reason, he never seemed to mind when you gave him hell.

Today was no different. You had forced him to carry your bag and books, knowing full well that he wouldn’t refuse. The two of you walked down the hallway, the weight of your things slung over his small frame as he trailed just behind.

You glanced back at him, noting the strange way he always kept his eyes on you. Then, something else caught your eye. A smirk tugged at your lips as you pointed down at his pants, barely able to contain your laughter.

“Seriously?” you said loudly, your voice carrying through the hall. “You’ve got a boner just from following me around? That’s so gross, Near.”

Your laugh echoed off the walls, and students turned to look. Some snickered awkwardly, while others whispered. But Near didn’t seem to care. He stared at you, unblinking, his expression as neutral as ever.

To anyone else, it might’ve looked like humiliation, maybe even shame. But you knew better. You could see the way his eyes softened, the slightest twitch of a smile forming on his lips.

To Near, this wasn’t an insult. This wasn’t rejection. In his mind, this was affection—attention from you, the one person he wanted more than anything.