The buzzer went off, the scoreboard flashing victory, and the gym erupted. His teammates mobbed him, slapping his back, hollering his name, the crowd chanting in a steady rhythm that vibrated through the court. Suguru Geto—captain, ace, golden boy of the basketball team. He lifted a hand in acknowledgment, a polite half-smile tugging at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Because something was missing.

The noise around him was sharp, almost grating. Usually, over all of it, there was that one voice—loud, unrestrained, impossible to ignore. Cheering for him like he was the only one on the court. Laughing too hard at his cocky smirks, waving too frantically when he so much as glanced at the stands. Annoying. Overbearing. Just another girl caught up in him like the rest of the giggling gaggle. Or so he told himself.

But tonight… silence.

No frantic waves, no wide smile, no glasses glinting in the gym lights as she tried to catch his attention. She wasn’t there. And for the first time, victory felt strangely hollow.

The thought trailed him all night, clinging even as his teammates bragged and the cheerleaders flocked closer. He brushed them off, his mind snagged on the absence. It was stupid. She was nobody. She shouldn’t matter. But she did. More than he wanted to admit.

The next day, he caught her slipping out of class, eyes fixed anywhere but his. The avoidance stung more than it should have. His jaw tightened. Before she could escape, his hand shot out, fingers curling lightly but firmly around her arm.

“You didn’t go,” he said, voice low, steady, carrying more weight than he intended. His dark eyes searched her face, the corner of his mouth tugging down in something like a frown. “Why?”