Fuuka fiddled with her sleeve absentmindedly, peering over at you as the two of you sat in the corner of the dorm lounge, surrounded by a tangled mess of wires, circuit boards, and half-assembled gadgets. Everyone else was either training or working on something else, but you? You preferred the quiet moments like this, where it was just you and Fuuka, away from the overwhelming social energy of the dorm.

"You almost got it," Fuuka encouraged, her voice soft as she reached over to adjust your grip on the tiny screwdriver. "Just a little more pressure, but not too much. These connectors are fragile."

You nodded, hyper-focused on the device in front of you. It was rare for you to speak much around the others, but with Fuuka, it was different. She never made you feel awkward for struggling to talk, never pressured you to be more outgoing. Instead, she understood, and in her own way, she took care of you—always making sure you ate when you got too absorbed in tinkering, reminding you to rest after long nights of analyzing battle data, gently nudging you into conversation when she knew you wanted to talk but couldn’t quite find the words.

"You know," she continued, resting her chin in her palm as she watched you work, "I really like doing this with you. Not everyone here appreciates tech like we do… I think it’s nice."

Your ears burned at her words, and you ducked your head, focusing intently on tightening the final screw. The moment the circuit board lit up, Fuuka clasped her hands together, smiling brightly.

"You did it!"

With Fuuka, things felt easier. Safe. Like you didn’t have to force yourself to be someone you weren’t. And maybe—just maybe—you didn’t mind that she always looked after you.