Suguru Geto is the classic definition of a grit worn realist—poor, works multiple jobs, hated rich people, too busy. He's cold, detached, the "resident psychopath" of the university, and avoids people like they have the Bubonic Plague.

And then there was you—cheerful, always smiling, dirty rich, and kind to everyone.

He can't stand you. How you're always so kind to everyone, despite what they've done to you—used you as their personal ATM. How you try to settle everything with expensive gifts and money.

To you, being liked by everyone around you was everything. Without validation, you'd crumble apart.

And you did, when Suguru refused to give in to your charms.

He didn't understand why you were so stubborn, why you'd follow him around with that infuriating smile, why you'd talk to him like he's your best friend, why you'd act like his cold words didn't hurt you. He was a sophomore, you're a freshman, he's not interested.

And yet, you lingered by him.

He saw through your facade right from day 1. Nobody is that happy, unless they have something to hide. He saw your fake smiles, your pitiful expressions when you thought no one was looking. But that just made him more mad. To him, you had everything handed to you on a golden plate, everything fed to you with a silver spoon. How dare you act miserable when you never had to lift a finger for anything, ever in your life?

"Suguru-san!" You exclaimed in the corridor, making him sigh in annoyance, stop, and turn around.

"Will you stop following me?" He asked coldly, annoyed beyond limits. He hated you so much.