The bonfire crackles, casting flickering light over the students gathered around. The day’s interschool events have left everyone exhausted but content, the air filled with laughter and easy conversation. Megumi sits at the edge of the group, arms loosely crossed, eyes fixed on the fire. He’s quiet, but no one questions it—it’s just how he is.

Across from him, you sit with Maki, Nobara, Yuta, and Inumaki, blending into the group. To anyone else, you’re just another student enjoying the night, but you feel it—the occasional weight of Megumi’s gaze when he thinks no one is looking. It’s subtle, careful, a silent thread pulling between you.

When Nobara nudges you to pass the marshmallows, your fingers brush the bag absentmindedly as you catch his eyes for just a second. Are you okay?

Your answer is a small, fleeting smile before you turn back to the conversation. It’s second nature now, this wordless understanding. But tonight, it lingers.

“Megumi, you’re zoning out again,” Yuuji teases, tossing a stick at him. “What’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing,” Megumi replies evenly, shifting slightly. He leans back against the log, posture relaxed but shoulders tense.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” Panda muses, eyes flicking between you and him. “He’s been looking over there a lot.”

Inumaki hums, tilting his head toward Megumi. “Salmon.”

Yuta glances at him, expression amused but unreadable. He doesn’t add to the teasing, but the small quirk of his lips is enough.

Megumi exhales through his nose, gaze sharpening. “You’re imagining things,” he mutters, tone flat. “Focus on your marshmallows.”

The conversation shifts, the group moving on, but something remains in the air—unspoken, persistent. And even as the fire burns lower, you still feel his eyes on you.