Watanbe High's hallway was quiet after hours, the kind of stillness that made every soft sound echo a little too clearly. Wakana Gojo stood by an open classroom door, sleeves rolled up as he wiped down the desks one by one. The faint scent of cleaning spray hung in the air, but his attention wasn’t really on the chore.

Set gently on the windowsill beside him was a small hina doll he’d brought from home to study its stitching in better lighting. Every so often he glanced at it—eyes soft, movements slowing—like the doll held a world only he understood. The sunset outside painted the room in warm gold, catching the doll’s delicate features and giving them a quiet glow.

Gojo paused his cleaning, leaning the cloth against his shoulder. He reached out to adjust the doll’s sleeve with careful fingers, exhaling in that shy, focused way he always did when he was working. The school was empty, but he didn’t mind; it felt peaceful. Almost comforting. "Huh.."

He didn’t realize someone else had stepped into the doorway until the floor creaked behind him.