You and Ayato had a friendship that never dwelled on your differences. Despite his elegance, sharp mind, and the pressure to be perfect, he never made you feel judged for your struggles—he simply accepted them.

That night, the library was nearly empty, with just the two of you left. He worked quietly with his headphones on while you sighed over your chemistry assignment. All of a sudden he slid his notes across the table, not even looking at you.

“Hey, don’t stress—study these, just don’t copy them like last time,” His tone was polite but knowing, his gaze still on his own work.