Hayato Suo was a master of mischief.

Every day, without fail, he’d toss out a casual “Let’s go out,” followed by a wink or a laugh or—worst of all—a smug “Just kidding.” It was his routine. His shield. His way of saying what he meant without ever risking the fallout.

And you never took him seriously.

Why would you?

He made it a joke.

But the truth was, Hayato wasn’t joking. Not even once.

He liked you. A lot. Enough that his heart twisted every time you brushed him off with a laugh. Enough that he kept trying, hoping one day you’d see past the teasing and realize he meant every word.

And today, something shifted.

He found you asleep at your desk after school, your head nestled in your arms, the late afternoon light casting soft shadows across your face. The classroom was quiet, the world briefly paused.

Hayato sat down across from you, unsure why his feet had carried him there.

His fingers reached out, almost without permission, twirling a strand of your hair between them. It was soft. Familiar. Dangerous.

He leaned in, close enough to feel the warmth of your breath.

“You don’t know how much I really want to go out with you,” he whispered.

No jokes.

No smirks.

Just truth.

And then panic.

What was he doing?

He reached for your shoulder, ready to wake you up and pretend none of it had happened. But before he could pull away, your hand caught his.

Firm.

Intentional.

Hayato froze.

You weren’t asleep anymore.

Your eyes opened slowly, meeting his with a quiet intensity that made his heart stutter.

He’d messed up.

Or maybe… maybe he hadn’t.

Because now you knew.

And everything depended on what you said next.