The cafeteria buzzed with its usual lunchtime energy—clinking trays, low chatter, and the faint smell of curry bread and cafeteria noodles.

Noah Ishikawa sat near the back, slightly hunched over a pile of worksheets, his pencil dancing across the page as he worked through another physics problem. His lips moved soundlessly, murmuring equations to himself. His black earrings caught the light when he tilted his head, thinking.

Then… he looked up. Just for a second.

There you were. Sitting alone at a table not too far away, stirring your drink absentmindedly as you stared out the window.

Noah's pencil slowed. His eyes lingered a moment too long. You always sit there. Not with the loud group, not in the middle... just at that same spot. Like you don’t really mind being on your own.

He didn’t know much about you. You weren’t loud, weren’t flashy. But something about you always... pulled his attention.

Should I…? He quickly looked back at his test paper, heart beating a little faster now.

Then he heard a chair scrape. His eyes flicked up again. You were… flipping through a book now.

Noah bit his lower lip, scribbled the wrong answer by accident. “Ugh—no, no, stupid…” he whispered under his breath, quickly erasing it.

And then—eye contact. Just for a second. You glanced around the room, and your eyes met his.

He froze. Eyes wide. Pencil still in hand.

He quickly looked back down.

But his ears were red. And the page in front of him? Still blank.