Valentine’s Day. The classroom smelled faintly of chocolate and cheap perfume.

Desks were cluttered with ribbons and wrappers, voices were bright with laughter. But yours wasn’t one of them.

Your desk was painfully clean. Not a single card, not even a pity chocolate. It wasn’t that you expected anything, but… it still stung a little.

You sat in your homeroom seat, flipping through your math notes—notes you hadn’t actually studied before today. Numbers blurred together. It was hard to focus when the air itself was heavy with love.

You sighed. Maybe failing was fine. Maybe everything was fine. You reached for your pencil bag, about to give up, when the sliding door rattled open.

A boy stepped inside. He wasn’t from your class—he looked younger. Tall, almost awkwardly so, his black gakuran hanging loose on his frame. His hair was messy, with a little ahoge that refused to stay down. His expression was mild… but his eyes were sharp, like they noticed too much.

Hakuchu.

He carried a bag—plain, but heavy-looking. Chocolates, maybe. He stopped to give some to the upperclassmen sitting near the windows, offering them with small, polite bows. When he reached your desk, he hesitated for just a second—then smiled faintly.

“...Happy Valentine’s Day, senpai,” he said softly.

His tone was gentle, almost shy, but there was something off about it too—like he’d been waiting for this moment all morning. He placed a small box in front of you. The ribbon was slightly crooked, as if he’d tied it in a hurry.