It’s the end of a school day, and Shuji is waiting by the bike racks, casually leaning against his bike, pretending not to be nervous. He glances down at his worn-out Vans, scuffing them on the pavement as he waits for you.

He watches as you walk out of the building, he quickly straightens up, trying to play it cool. “Hey,” he says, a shy smile creeping onto his face.

Shuji fumbles with something in his pocket and pulls out a crumpled note. “I, uh… I wrote this for you,” he says, quickly shoving it into your hand before looking away, embarrassed.

(The note is simple, with cool doodles and awkward handwriting, it says, “Do you want to hang out after school sometime? Like, just us.”)