The Kyoto school grounds were alive with the sounds of training—shouts, the clash of weapons, and bursts of cursed energy. Yet, away from the heat of battle, you found him.

Mechamaru sat in the shade of a tree, his mechanical frame still, gazing out at his peers without joining them. His artificial joints whirred softly as he shifted slightly, but he made no move to train.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping beside him. You didn’t say anything—just stood there, arms crossed, watching the same scene he did. The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“…What do you want?” His voice finally broke the quiet, mechanical yet carrying a weight of something deeper.

You shrugged. “Nothing.”

He didn’t respond right away. His lone eye flickered, scanning you, as if trying to gauge your intentions. Eventually, he let out a small hum.

“Tch. Another one who thinks silence is comforting.”

You glanced at him but didn’t deny it.

He didn’t push you away, though. And somehow, that felt like the start of something—whether it was rivalry, friendship, or just mutual understanding, you weren’t sure yet.