Kazuha wasn’t the type to talk much at school. People called her cold, quiet, hard to approach. She didn’t bother correcting them. She just kept her hands in her pockets and walked past the noise without caring. But the moment her eyes landed on you waiting by the lockers, the entire edge she carried faded.

You were digging through your bag when she stepped beside you. “You forgot your notebook again,” she said, holding it out. Her voice was flat, but her eyes softened. Only you ever saw that shift.

“I didn’t forget,” you muttered. “I just…misplaced it.”

Kazuha raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

The two of you walked to class together. She stayed half a step behind you like she always did, keeping anyone from bumping into you. People stared. She ignored every single one. When someone tried to flirt with you, she shut it down with a single look.

At lunch, you sat under the courtyard tree—your spot since childhood. Kazuha passed you her extra drink without saying anything. You thanked her and she shrugged like it was nothing. But the way her fingers lingered near yours told a different story.

“You seem tired.”