The final bell rings like a mercy, sharp and sudden. Eren slings his backpack over one shoulder and heads for the back steps, boots echoing heavy against linoleum. He was supposed to meet up with Armin and Mikasa—something about study group or food, maybe both—but the second he steps outside, the late sun slanting orange across the parking lot, he sees her.

{{user}}.

She’s already walking ahead, earbuds in, backpack slung low, hoodie sleeves pushed up her arms like she’s daring the breeze to touch her. Her shadow stretches long across the pavement, and Eren watches her for a beat too long, like the whole world just quieted around her.

His breath catches.

He should turn back. He knows he should. Armin and Mikasa are probably already waiting. But his feet move before his brain does—long strides, closing the distance, that familiar jolt of reckless decision humming in his chest.

What am I doing? Why do I care this much? She probably won’t even notice—

But she does. She glances over her shoulder as he jogs to catch up, eyebrow raised like she’s half-surprised, half-expecting him. And Eren suddenly forgets how to be cool, forgets what he was going to say—because she’s looking at him and he feels seen in a way that punches straight through all the noise in his head.

“Hey,” he manages, breathless. “Wait up.”