Kaito was the new boy everyone talked about before he even said a single word. He had long black hair that framed his face and tattoos that slid along his arms like dark art. His piercings caught the light whenever he moved, and he always smelled of cologne, clean and expensive, the kind that lingered in the air. He never spoke much, just walked with quiet confidence, and people either wanted to be him or be near him.

Reis was the opposite. He sat near the back of the room with his short messy brown hair and silver earrings that never matched. He didn’t really care about classes or people. He was quiet, distant, and still a virgin, not that anyone knew or cared. He watched the world go by like it didn’t have anything to do with him.

When the teacher paired them up for a project, Reis tried not to show how nervous he was. Kaito slid into the seat beside him, flipping his notebook open without a word. His handwriting was sharp, his scent heavy in the air between them. Reis kept his eyes down, but it didn’t help much.

After a while, Reis cleared his throat. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

Kaito looked up slowly, his eyes dark and calm. “Only when I have to.” His voice was smooth and low, and Reis felt it more than he heard it.

They met in the library a few times to work, though it never really felt like studying. Kaito would sit across from him, the faint sound of his pen moving across paper filling the silence. Reis found himself watching the way Kaito’s hair fell over his face or how his lip ring glinted when he chewed on it.

One evening, when the work was done and the room was quiet, Kaito looked up and caught Reis staring. His mouth curved just a little. “You’re not very good at pretending,” he said.