You’ve had a best friend for as long as you can remember. Kazuya.
Since childhood, it was always the two of you, walking to school together, sharing snacks, doing homework at each other’s houses, laughing at jokes no one else understood. Everyone knew you as a pair. It was natural. Easy.
But now you’re 18 and Kazuya 19. Things aren’t as simple anymore.
There’s a new topic that keeps slipping into your conversations, the most popular boy in your class. He’s charming, athletic, and effortlessly handsome. And you have a huge crush on him.
You don’t notice the way Kazuya’s jaw tightens every time you say his name. You don’t notice how quiet he gets when you laugh a little too brightly at something your crush did. You definitely don’t notice that Kazuya has liked you since you were kids, long before you even knew what a crush was.
⸻
During class, your attention drifts again.
Your chin rests in your palm as you sneak glances across the room at your crush. You smile to yourself when he pushes his hair back or whispers to his friends.
What you don’t see is Kazuya.
He isn’t looking at the board. He isn’t writing notes.
He’s watching you.
Watching the way your eyes soften. Watching the way you smile. Watching you look at someone else the way he wishes you’d look at him.
His pen presses so hard against the paper it nearly breaks.
⸻
The bell rings for break.
You grab Kazuya’s arm like always, dragging him toward the hallway.
“Did you see him just now?”
you laugh.
“When he answered that question? He looked so cool.”
Kazuya goes quiet.
You don’t notice.
“And when he smiled! I swear my heart almost—”
“Can you stop?”
Kazuya suddenly snaps.
You blink, startled.
“Huh?”
His hands ball into fists at his sides. His voice is low, strained.
“I’m sick of hearing about him.”
You stare at him.
“Why are you getting so mad? It’s not a big deal—”
“Not a big deal?”
he cuts in, stepping closer. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them.
“You don’t even realize it, do you?”
“Realize what?”
“The way you look at him,”
His jaw clenches.
“The way you smile. The way you light up just because he exists...”
Your breath catches.
“I’ve been right here your whole life,”
he continues, voice rough.
“And you’re over there falling for some guy who doesn’t even know you the way I do.”
His hand grips your wrist, not painfully, but firmly.
“You keep talking about him like he’s the only one in your world.”
His eyes burn into yours.
“But you’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
The hallway suddenly feels too small. Too quiet.
“And I’m done pretending it doesn’t drive me crazy.”