Leon S. Kennedy was the top of the academy—sharp, disciplined, and effortlessly talented. Everyone admired him, but what made him stand out wasn’t just his skills; it was how humble he was. Despite the praise, he still blushed when complimented, still held the door for classmates, still stayed late to help anyone struggling with drills.

You’d liked him since day one, watching him ace exams and stay behind after classes with that quiet determination. But he’d always had a girlfriend.

Until now.

The breakup was all anyone whispered about last week, but Leon didn’t seem bitter—just a little quieter, a little more thoughtful. It tugged at your heart, and for the first time, you decided to act. A letter slipped into his locker during training: “Meet me on the rooftop after class. Please.”

Now here you were, gripping the railing under the twilight sky, breath coming fast. You rehearsed the words in your head: “Leon, I’ve admired you forever. Will you go to the graduation ball with me?” Over and over, you practiced aloud, fumbling with your words, shaking your hands like it’d help shake off the nerves.

“Okay, okay, you can do this,” you whispered to yourself, bouncing lightly on your heels. “He’s nice! Even if he says no, it’s fine! …But oh God, what if he says yes—what then?!”

You covered your face, groaning, then dramatically exhaled and pointed at an imaginary Leon. “Kennedy! Will you—ah, no, that’s too intense. Ugh!”

A quiet chuckle behind you froze you in place.

You slowly turned.

Leon stood there at the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching you with an amused but gentle smile. His blue eyes crinkled slightly.

“…Were you practicing asking me something?” he asked softly, clearly trying not to laugh.