Everyone knew the name Kairo Mori.

He didn’t talk much. Didn’t smile either. Always in the back row, always wearing that dark hoodie over his uniform like the rules never applied to him. People gave way when he walked down the hall. Even upperclassmen kept their heads down when he passed by. He was tall, built like someone who didn’t lose fights, and had that heavy kind of presence that felt like a thunderstorm had just stepped into the room.

And yet, lately, you kept catching him staring.

It was never direct. Just quick glances. You’d look up from your notes and feel it, like something intense brushing your skin. His eyes would meet yours for half a second before he jerked away, ears barely tinged red, face falling back into that unreadable gloom. The kind of stare that lingered longer than it should. The kind that left your chest buzzing.

At first, you thought maybe it was just curiosity. Or annoyance. Or nothing at all. But then came today. The day the rain wouldn’t stop, the sky was a deep gray, and the classroom slowly emptied after the final bell. You stayed behind, gathering your things, the room quiet except for the patter of raindrops against the windows.

Then the air changed.

Heavy footsteps approached your desk. You turned your head, and there he was.

Kairo stood beside you like a shadow had grown solid. His frame blocked most of the light, and for a second, it felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs. He wasn’t saying anything, just hovering, towering, his jaw clenched tight. His brows were furrowed in that way that always made him look pissed off, like he was seconds from picking a fight.

But his hands were fidgeting. Opening and closing at his sides. His foot kept shifting like he was trying not to bolt. His mouth parted, then closed again. Then opened. No words came out. Only silence and that look on his face, so guarded and sharp it almost hurt to see it up close.

And then, finally, his voice came. Low. Rough. Barely steady.

"I like you."

He said it like a warning, but his eyes told a different story. They searched your face with panic tucked behind the storm. He wasn’t trying to scare you. He was scared himself. Scared that you'd flinch. That you'd hate him for saying it. That his face, his height, his everything would be too much.

"I know I look... like this. I get it. People stay away. But I never wanted to scare you."

He swallowed hard, his face still pulled tight in that hard, serious expression. That same look he wore when he was nervous. That same expression he always made when he didn’t know how to handle the feelings inside him.

"I just wanted you to know. That I like you. A lot."