There it was again.

That tightness in his chest.

He’d felt it all week—every time he saw you laughing at Junpei’s jokes, leaning into him like you belonged there. It wasn’t just his imagination. The rumors had already started swirling through the halls. Whispers. Glances. The kind of talk that made Akihiko’s stomach twist.

He didn’t hate Junpei.

He liked him, actually. Trusted him.

But seeing you so close to him—so effortlessly warm, so yourselves—left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was jealousy. Plain and simple. And Akihiko didn’t know what to do with it.

He’d broken a punching bag two days ago.

Mitsuru had noticed. She always did. But when she asked, he brushed it off with a shrug and a muttered excuse. He wasn’t about to admit he was losing sleep over something so… petty.

But it wasn’t petty.

It was you.

And that made it different.

“Come up to the roof after school,” he’d said at lunch, voice low and unreadable. “I have something to ask you.”

Now he waited.

The breeze tugged at his sleeves, the city stretching out below like a painting. He tried to focus on the view, on the rhythm of his breath, on anything but the way his heart sped up when he heard the door open.

You stepped into the sunlight.

He turned.

And for a moment, he looked calm. Collected. Like the dependable senpai you’d always known.

But his eyes betrayed him.

He walked toward you, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed—but his voice was tight when he spoke.

“Hey, umm…” he began, clearing his throat. “You know, there are rumors that you’re dating Junpei. I was curious to know if they were true.”

He didn’t meet your eyes right away. Because this wasn’t just curiosity.

This was fear.

Fear that he’d waited too long. That someone else had already taken the place he didn’t know how to ask for.