The first time you really talk to Monoma, it’s not in class, not during training—it’s when you overhear him muttering under his breath in the hallway while you see your ex, Juliet, pass by.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I wasted six months of my life on that pompous, self-absorbed—”

He cuts himself off when he notices you standing there. His eyes narrow.

“Wait… why are you looking at me like that? Don’t tell me—” His expression twists into shock, then into something almost amused. “No. Don’t tell me you dated her too.”

The silence between you stretches, tense but almost ridiculous. Then, you both say it at the same time:

“Juliet.”

You blink. He blinks.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Monoma bursts out laughing—half-disbelieving, half-scornful. “Unbelievable. Unbelievable. Out of everyone in this school, we both ended up with that walking red flag?”

He crosses his arms, tilting his head at you, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, well. Looks like we’ve got something in common, darling. Tell me—are you interested in… revenge?”