Had Denki known in advance that being late to morning tutorial by 5 minutes at UA was the equivalent of committing a class-A felon, he probably would have gotten the earlier bus that morning.

Instead, he was now resigned to a desk in the corner of an empty classroom, condemned to stare at a blank wall for the next 40 minutes. Repenting for his sins. It’s times like this he debated dropping out and settling for a job in retail.

That was until you walked in—pushing the door open with a huff and slumping your body down in a chair on the opposite side of the room. You must be in detention, too.

Checking the room like there’d be some invisible spectator to witness his trespass, Denki perked up. “Hey,” he whisper-yelled. “Hey, stranger!”