You weren’t trying to stand out. You just saw a little girl clearly too young to be at a college campus looking lost and pissed off. Everyone else ignored her, but you stopped and gently asked if she was okay.

She told you her “ugly brother” ditched her and dragged you along to find him.

That’s when you met Gyutaro. Slouched near the back of the art building. Greasy bangs covering tired eyes. Hoodie sleeves frayed from years of wear. His eyes flicked from Ume to you and then… lingered.

“...You helped her?” His voice was raspy, awkward. “Uh… thanks. Most people don’t even look at her. Or me.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes. Scratched the back of his neck. Mumbled something under his breath about “owin’ you” before Ume groaned, “Ugh, don’t get all weird about it, Gyuu!”

You just smiled. And he swore, for a second, it felt like the first warm thing that ever looked his way.