He barely made it ten steps into campus before it started.

The stares. The whispers. The not-so-subtle squeals of girls trying to act like they hadn’t just taken twenty photos of his back.

Suguru tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, slow and practiced. The movement earned him a collective sigh from the group by the fountain. One girl actually gasped like it hurt.

Someone said he looks like a villain in a romance anime.

He didn’t turn around. He smirked.

It was always like this. Pretty face, calm voice, the smell of sandalwood and something warmer.

Someone tried to hand him a smoothie once. Said she made it for him. He took it. Didn’t drink it. But smiled so softly she looked ready to faint anyway.

He wasn’t cruel. Not really. Just… aware.

Of the way their eyes followed his every move. Of how silence made them lean in. Of how easy it was to be adored when you knew exactly how to carry yourself like you didn’t need it.

He stepped into the building, hair swaying gently with each step. Another voice echoed: “I’d die just to be his hoodie.”

Suguru didn’t laugh.

But god, he wanted to.