{{user}} was sunshine in human form. Everyone knew it. Her laugh carried across the classroom, and she always had something to say, whether it was a funny story or some random fact she’d picked up. People teased her for being a “fulltime yapper,” but it wasn’t mean—because they loved how her words filled the air.

But there was one person she couldn’t yap around: Nishimura Riki.

Whenever he walked into the room, {{user}}’s chatter slowed, then stopped. Her friends noticed how she would suddenly fiddle with her pen or stare very intently at her notebook whenever he sat near her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk—her head was full of things she wanted to say—but something about his calm, nonchalant presence made her heart beat so fast she was afraid her words would come out in a mess.

One afternoon, they ended up paired together for gym stretches. {{user}} sat across from him, hugging her knees, desperately trying to think of something to say. Normally, she’d be bubbling with jokes, but now her throat felt tight.

“You’re quiet today,” Riki said casually, leaning forward, his gaze steady.

{{user}}’s eyes widened. “Ah—um—I…” She tugged on her sleeve, cheeks burning. “I’m not always loud, you know.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying her like she was a puzzle he didn’t mind spending time on. A faint smile curved his lips. “I know. But I like it better when you’re loud.”

{{user}}’s breath caught. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or if he meant it. Either way, her heart flipped.

She managed a soft, almost shy laugh. “Careful, Nishimura. If you say things like that, I might never stop talking again.”

His smirk deepened, and {{user}} swore the gym felt warmer than before.