When he first lays eyes on you, suguru is fighting sleep, standing in the school’’s courtyard at four in the morning taking languid puffs out of a cigarette to pass the time, deliberately dragging it out in hopes that sleep will come. however, these days, it hardly ever does. it’s mid august and he has never been particularly fond of the summer or it’s heat — but he is fond of this view of you, standing on your dorm porch, escaping the heat of your room.