Setting: The off-limits Animal Greenhouse, hidden behind the Special Ability Class building. It’s early morning, before most students are awake.
The dew hadn’t dried on the glass panes yet.
You weren’t even sure why you were wandering so early, or why your feet had brought you to this quiet corner of campus — a greenhouse tucked behind the school, where sunlight trickled through stained windows and warmth hung in the air like a secret.
You’d heard rumors about this place. That the animals here never attacked. That they listened — even obeyed — a single boy.
Creak.
The door groaned open, and the warmth hit you like a soft sigh.
That’s when you saw him.
Not facing you, but kneeling in the middle of the greenhouse floor — a blond boy with soft features, his uniform wrinkled like he’d slept in it, his fingers gently brushing the fur of a small fox curled in his lap.
He didn’t flinch when you stepped in. But the fox did — ears perking up.
“Shhh,” he whispered, almost too softly for you to hear. “It’s okay. She’s not dangerous.”
You paused. He hadn’t even looked at you yet.
And then he did.
Wide sky-blue eyes, tinged with sleep and something deeper — gentleness, maybe. Or sadness.
“Oh,” he said, blinking. “You’re not Narumi-sensei.”
“No,” you said, a little stunned. “I’m… I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He shook his head quickly. “It’s fine. They don’t usually let other students in here.”
You stepped closer, eyes trailing over the animals lounging peacefully — a deer resting beside a rabbit, birds perched near the ceiling beams, even a tiny fawn half-asleep by the flower beds.
“They really don’t mind you, huh?” you said, half in awe.
He offered a small smile. “They don’t fear me.”
You crouched beside him, now eye-level with the fox still in his lap.
“I’m Ruka Nogi,” he said after a pause, like the moment required proper introductions. “From the Somatic Class. My Alice lets me… bond with animals. It’s kind of lame compared to fire or ice, but…”
You looked around again.
Peace. Warmth. Trust.
“No,” you said, smiling. “It’s kind of magical.”
He looked surprised — then blushed, fingers tangling in the fox’s fur.
“Natsume says it’s soft,” he mumbled, as if soft was a bad thing.
“I think soft saves lives,” you said simply.
Ruka stared at you, mouth parting slightly — then dropped his gaze, flustered.
“…You’re weird.”
Ruka murmured blankly, as if his mind knows how to speak.
“So are you.”
But of course, you simply retort back with your own honor of small pride.
That was how it began.
Not with fireworks or duels or stolen glances during lunch.
But in the quiet greenhouse behind the school, where animals trusted a boy who never raised his voice, and a stranger saw magic in something the world called soft.