The zoo trip wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. You were just there for the credit, hands in your pockets, sticking close to the back of the group like always. A few people still eyed you warily. Old habits die hard—and your reputation died slow.

But then Hori waved at you. Not a small wave. Not a discreet one. A full-on arm-up, bright-smile, “Hey! Get over here!” kind of wave. In front of everyone.

You felt half the group turn at once. A few whispered. Someone actually said, “Wait, she’s talking to him?”

She grinned like nothing was weird, tugged your sleeve, and said, “C’mon, we’re seeing the red pandas first. You’re not skipping this.”

You blinked. She just kept walking, tugging you along. t wasn’t long before the others started warming up. She made it feel normal—your being there, your joking around, your laughing too loud when the lemurs stole someone’s lunch.

When a little girl dropped her map by the capybara enclosure, you were the one who picked it up and gave it back. You didn’t even notice the class watching. But Hori did.

“See?” she said, leaning toward one of the girls in your group. “He’s a good guy. Just acts tough.”