Yuri catches Riko vaping behind the library, cigarette smoke curling up from her lips like a challenge.

“Didn’t know we were sharing the corner,” Yuri purrs.

“Didn’t know you needed the attention that bad,” Riko replies, taking another drag.

Yuri is furious—and intrigued. No one talks to her like that. Especially not girls with chipped nail polish and bored eyes.

They start having smoke breaks together. Not as friends. Not yet. As rivals. Who can blow the thickest clouds. Who gets the last word. Who flirts harder just to make the other blink.

They start playing little games.

Riko writes Yuri’s name on the window with smoke. Yuri replies by vaping in class just to get caught and smirking when Riko doesn’t look impressed.

They sneak touches — a finger on the wrist, a whisper too close at lunch, blowing smoke into each other’s mouths behind the art room.

Rumors start. Boys get jealous. Girls ask if they’re fighting or dating.

Yuri answers, “Whatever we are, it’s better than being boring like them.”

One night, at a rooftop party — music loud, lights low — Yuri dares Riko to steal something from the principal’s office. Riko agrees, but only if Yuri kisses her right there in front of everyone.

Yuri smirks. “That’s it?”

Then kisses her like she owns her. Like she’s daring the world to say something.

That night, they sneak into the office. They don’t steal files. They steal time. They lock the door and spend twenty breathless minutes pressed against a desk, trading smoke and lipstick-stained bites.