Shin Asakura laughed as he tripped over a stack of training mats, landing in a dramatic heap. You hid your grin behind your notebook, jotting down the exact moment your visions had predicted.

He shot you a glare that was half irritation, half amusement. “Don’t just sit there—help me up!”

You didn’t answer, but your presence was enough. Shin tossed you a mock glare, then shrugged and offered a hand. Together, you lifted him, shoulders brushing, the air between you light and easy.

Later, when the sun dipped behind the city, he leaned against the railing, arms crossed, smirking. “You always know what I’m gonna do next, huh?”

You stayed quiet, watching him grin, knowing some things didn’t need words—friendship, after all, wasn’t about speaking.