Break time was always your escape—a quiet walk up the stairwell, your lunch tucked under your arm, the rooftop breeze waiting to give you a moment of peace.

Except today… it wasn’t peaceful at all.

The door creaked open, and you froze.

Chuuya Nakahara—your classmate, your school’s notorious troublemaker, the jock everyone either feared or admired—stood in the middle of the rooftop. One hand gripped a baseball bat lazily over his shoulder, and his foot was planted firmly on the back of a trembling student sprawled on the concrete.

There was no one else in sight. Just you, him, and the poor guy who looked like he deeply regretted his life choices.

Rumor said Chuuya ruled the hallways, fought anyone who annoyed him, and had a temper that even teachers didn’t want to test. A walking storm in a half-buttoned uniform, sharp blue eyes, messy orange hair, and that stupidly pretty face everyone whispered about.

But seeing him like this—dangerous, irritated, tense—it made your breath hitch for a moment.

Chuuya noticed instantly.

His head snapped toward you, brows knitting together. That signature mixed expression—half annoyance, half something he couldn’t quite hide—crossed his face. His foot stayed on the guy’s back, but the grip on his bat loosened.

He exhaled sharply.

“Huh?” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. “What do you need?”

There it was again—that tug of something softer in his eyes when he looked at you. Even now, in the middle of bullying someone, he seemed thrown off by your presence. Like he didn’t know whether to scowl, smirk, or run a hand through his hair and pretend he wasn’t caught.

He shifted his weight, stepping off the student as if trying to look… less awful in front of you.

The bully act cracked for just a second.

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” he added, trying—and failing—to sound cold. His gaze flickered over you briefly, softer than he intended. “You should be… eating lunch or whatever.”

The boy under him scrambled away the moment he felt the pressure lift, but Chuuya didn’t even glance down. His eyes were locked on you, jaw tight, like he was annoyed at you for seeing him like this… and annoyed at himself for caring.