It was completely out of character for Bokuto to miss school without a word—not to you, not to the teacher, not to anyone. He was usually the loudest one in class, always the first to greet you in the morning with that signature, over-the-top energy. That’s why the silence today felt so… off.

You couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t right. And maybe it was silly, but after school, you found yourself heading straight to his house, worry tucked somewhere deep in your chest.

When the door finally creaked open, your heart gave a quiet tug.

Bokuto stood there, looking nothing like the energetic boy you saw every day. His face was flushed a deep red, his hair damp and clinging slightly to his forehead. His breathing was shallow, shoulders rising and falling as though even standing was a little too much.

“Hey… what are you doing here?” he murmured, his voice scratchy and weak, but his eyes still lighting up—just a little—at the sight of you.