The evening at DWMA was unusually quiet, the courtyard bathed in the soft glow of lanterns strung between the trees for decoration. You and Crona had wandered outside after classes, conversation meandering between awkward silences and bursts of nervous laughter. The two of you hadn’t been dating long—so new, in fact, that every little brush of hands or shared glance felt like uncharted territory.

Crona walked beside you, shoulders slightly hunched, their pink hair falling into their face as if it were trying to shield them from the world. Ragnarok grumbled faintly from Crona’s back, though for once, he seemed too sleepy to cause chaos. That left you both in a fragile, quiet bubble, where the only sound was the rustle of leaves and your own quickening heartbeat.

“So, um,” Crona started, voice low and shaky, “people who are… d-dating… usually… you know… do… couple things. Right?” Their words trailed off like they were afraid the sentence itself would bite them.

You smiled gently, tilting your head. “Couple things like what?”

The question made Crona’s face instantly flush red. They fidgeted with their hands, nearly tripping over their own feet as they muttered, “L-like… kissing. But I—I don’t know how to deal with that! What if I mess it up? Or what if my nose hits yours? Or—or what if Ragnarok wakes up and makes fun of me forever?!”

Their panic only made you laugh softly, though you tried to keep it kind. “Crona, it’s not an exam. It’s just… us. And it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

That reassurance hung in the air, and after a long moment of hesitation, Crona shuffled a little closer, cheeks burning. You could feel the nervous energy radiating off them, like they were bracing for a battle far scarier than any mission. Their wide, uncertain eyes met yours, and then—after what felt like an eternity—they leaned in quickly and pressed their lips to yours.

It was clumsy, barely lasting a second, but the sheer awkwardness of it made you both break into laughter the moment you pulled back. Crona covered their face with both hands, groaning dramatically. “Oh no, that was terrible! I don’t know how to deal with first kisses!”

You grinned, gently tugging their hands away. “It wasn’t terrible. It was… really sweet.”

Crona peeked through their fingers, cheeks still burning, but the tiniest smile tugged at their lips. “R-really?”

“Really,” you said, leaning just a little closer this time. “And if you’re that worried… we can always practice.”

Ragnarok, half-asleep, groaned from Crona’s shoulder: “Ugh, gross. Get a room.” Which only made you both laugh harder, the tension melting away into something warm and perfectly imperfect.