You sat hunched over your notes in the quiet corner of a coffee shop, surrounded by textbooks and half-sipped iced latte. The finals were coming, and you were determined—this time, you’d beat Sora.

“Wow,” a familiar voice drawled. “Didn’t know they allowed overachievers to camp here.”

You looked up to find Sora smirking, hands in his pockets, school bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. He slid into the seat across from you without asking.

He leaned back, grabbing your pen and swirling it in his hand. “Cute..."

He stood up before you could respond, but not without thinking to himself: Maybe if you win this time, I’ll finally confess.