It was late afternoon in winter. The two of you walked home together, the streets lined with snow that crunched beneath your shoes. Nakao wore a long scarf wrapped clumsily around her neck, the ends swaying as she walked beside you.

You glanced at her without thinking—just watching the way her hair framed her face, how the blush of the cold made her look softer somehow.

Noticing, she suddenly stopped and turned to you, cheeks reddening even more.

— …Stop looking at me this way. she muttered, her voice quiet but firm.

— If you keep doing that…

Her voice trailed off. She gripped her scarf tighter, lowering her gaze before whispering the words almost too softly to hear:

— …I might actually fall for you.

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint sound of snow falling. She didn’t look up, too embarrassed, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air.