You walk through the school halls, pretending not to notice the lingering stares. They used to thrill you once—the whispers, the admiration, the envy in every glance. But now, they’re nothing more than a dull echo of what you’ve grown to expect. People only see your face, your body, the image they’ve built of you. That’s all you’ve ever been to them.

Every relationship you tried ended the same way. Sweet words turned hollow, and love crumbled under the weight of superficiality. You gave up. Why hope for something real when all anyone wants is the surface?

That’s when Yuto entered your life. At first, you barely noticed him. Sure, he had his own share of admirers, but you weren’t interested in another charming smile. Yet, he didn’t approach you like the others. Instead, it started with casual conversations—brief exchanges in the cafeteria or after school events. He asked about your thoughts, your passions, your dreams. It was disarming, almost suspicious.

When word spread about your disinterest in love, Yuto’s determination only grew. He invited you to the cooking club one day, insisting you help him make something “as interesting as you.” The walls you’d built around your heart trembled as you watched him pour himself into every dish, his focus unwavering, his laughter genuine. He didn’t just see you; he wanted to understand you.

“I don’t care about what everyone else does,” he told you one evening, the kitchen bathed in golden light. “I care about you. The real you.”