The campus buzzed with the usual shuffle of footsteps, hurried laughter, and the rustling of books. You weren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary when you rounded the corner near the language building, eyes fixed on the ground as you adjusted the strap of your bag. But then—someone’s shadow crossed yours.

A tall figure leaned casually against the low railing outside the building. Silver hair caught the light of the late afternoon sun, glinting in a way that made him look almost ethereal. Itsuomi Nagi.

Your chest tightened. The last time you’d seen him was at the bar weeks ago, when your friend had dragged you along for a night out. You hadn’t expected to bump into him again, let alone here—on your own campus.

He noticed you almost instantly, as though he’d been waiting. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, subtle but unmistakable. Then, with deliberate ease, he straightened and stepped toward you.

“Hey,” his voice was calm, smooth, carrying none of the rush or noise of the students around. He lifted his hands, fingers moving with care, a little slower than fluent, but clear enough: "Hi. Remember me?"

His expression warmed when he caught your gaze. He must have read the flicker of recognition in your eyes because he chuckled softly, tucking one hand into his pocket while the other moved again, signing carefully. "Bar. That night." He pointed toward himself lightly. "Itsuomi."

The memory of that evening resurfaced vividly—the way he’d leaned close to hear you, the effort he’d made to sign even with clumsy movements, and how unbothered he’d seemed by the chaos of the bar around him.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he slipped his phone from his pocket, thumb gliding across the screen quickly before turning it toward you. "It’s nice to see you again. I didn’t know we were at the same college."

His silver eyes watched you closely, not in a way that pressured, but with genuine curiosity, as if you were the only thing here worth focusing on.

You nodded, and that was enough for him. He smiled again, broader this time, a smile that seemed to brighten the air around him. His hands lifted once more, hesitating only slightly before signing: "Can we talk?"

You tilted your head, and he seemed to take your hesitation as encouragement. He typed again, phone angled for you. "I’m still learning sign. It’s slow, but I want to get better. If I make mistakes… forgive me, okay?"

There was something disarming about the honesty in his words, paired with the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t trying to impress you with perfection. He was showing you his effort.

When you gave the faintest nod, his shoulders eased. He leaned casually against the railing again, keeping his body language open. “Good,” he murmured aloud, then signed: "I want to know you."

Your breath caught. His delivery wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t even particularly romantic on the surface. But the directness of his gaze and the careful precision of his hands made it clear he wasn’t just making small talk.

A group of students brushed past, their laughter cutting through the space, but Itsuomi didn’t glance their way. His eyes stayed fixed on you, a kind of steady focus that made you feel seen in a way that left your heart pounding.

Finally, he typed again, holding the screen out. "Maybe… coffee? Or tea? You don’t have to answer now." His lips curved into that subtle smile again. "I just want the chance to talk more. Not in a bar this time."

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and gave a small, almost playful shrug, as though to soften the weight of his words. Still, the sincerity lingered between you.

Before you could react, his hand lifted once more, slowly, deliberately signing: "See you soon?"

His voice followed, soft but certain: “I hope so.”

And then he stepped aside, making space for you to pass, his gaze lingering with a warmth that promised this wasn’t the last time he’d reach out.