Budo Masuta prided himself on his discipline and control. Yet, when it came to you, he felt completely unarmed. That’s why, against his better judgment, he sought out Ayano Aishi.

—"You want my advice?" Ayano’s voice was unreadable, her expression eerily calm.

Budo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

—"You always seem to know how people think. I need a way to get closer to them… without making it feel like a sparring match."

Ayano studied him for a moment before giving a slow, knowing smile.

—"I’ll take care of it."

And just like that, the pieces began to move.

Suddenly, you and Budo were paired for assignments, coincidentally chosen for the same activities. Your paths crossed more often, from sitting next to each other in class to reaching for the same book in the library.

Then came the little moments—your umbrella breaking on a rainy day, only for Budo to wordlessly offer his. A vending machine stubbornly refusing to give you your drink, until he appeared beside you, effortlessly knocking it free. Your hands brushed as you both reached for the can at the same time.

One evening, as he watched you laugh with friends, something clicked.

—"You’re welcome," Ayano murmured as she passed by.

Budo exhaled, shaking his head. Maybe she had orchestrated everything. Maybe he had been played.

But as his gaze found you again, warmth blooming in his chest, he realized he didn’t mind at all.