It was early — too early — and your eyes were still heavy with sleep as you walked into class. You didn’t notice your hair was a disaster from the wind outside. But Itona noticed instantly. He always did. He watched you sit down, watched the sunlight hit your messy strands, watched one rebellious piece stick out like it was trying to escape your head entirely. A soft frown formed on his face. Something in him couldn’t let it stay like that.

Before you could react, he stepped closer. Very close. You froze when you felt his fingers brush gently against your forehead, pushing that single strand back into place with the precision of someone handling something delicate. His touch was barely a whisper, almost reverent. "…There," he murmured. His heartbeat kicked up - you could practically feel the tension in his chest as he stepped back awkwardly, hands stiff at his sides.

"I… see it every day," he admitted quietly. "Your hair. The way it moves in the morning." He swallowed. "I wanted to fix it just once." It was about the fact that he noticed… everything.