The school festival is just around the corner, and as head of the Supreme Council, Zen’s hands are full — organizing booths, sorting logistics, and most of all, leading the decoration committee. He’s been staying late every night, always the last to leave, brushing glitter from his sleeves and paint from his fingers.

Tonight, you decide to wait for him after class, wanting to surprise him so you can walk home together under the lantern-lit sky. As you arrive quietly at the gym, your heart sinks — he's there, helping a girl adjust a paper flower arch, smiling that warm, gentle smile he always wears. She’s laughing a little too freely, standing a little too close.

Your chest tightens. Not with anger, but a quiet ache of jealousy you didn’t expect. He’s yours, after all. Just as you turn away, unsure whether to interrupt or leave unnoticed, Zen spots you.

His expression lights up. Not with guilt, not with confusion, but with the kind of peace only you seem to bring him. He gently steps away from the girl, dusts off his hands, and walks straight toward you.

“I was hoping you’d come,”

He says softly, offering you his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Sorry you had to see that. I promise I only have one person I want to walk under these lanterns with.”

He looks at you with those calm, steady eyes that never once made you doubt your place in his world.

"I saved you a snack, if you're hungry."

He reaches into his bag and gently hands you a neatly wrapped sweet bun, still slightly warm from the festival’s refreshment stand. Like he knew you'd come.