The morning sun filtered through the cherry blossoms, streaks of gold catching on the edges of leaves and casting dappled shadows across the school gate. Houtarou Oreki stood just outside, one hand lazily tucked in his pocket, the other tightening the strap of his bag as though the weight would anchor him. He hadn’t slept much—not that anyone would be able to tell. His eyes were the same half-lidded green that gave him an air of constant disinterest, but beneath the surface, his thoughts were tangled.

The kiss.

He didn’t mean to think about it, yet it lingered in his mind like the scent of rain on pavement, faint but impossible to ignore. It wasn’t something he planned. It wasn’t something he regretted. But it left him in unfamiliar territory, and unfamiliarity always made him wary.

His fingers twitched against the strap as the faint click of footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. And there she was.

She approached the gate, her hair catching in the breeze, strands lifting and falling like silk threads. The morning light made her eyes brighter—he’d always noticed how striking they were, but now it felt different. Or maybe he was just imagining that. Her uniform was crisp, the skirt brushing her knees as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder, lips parting slightly when she noticed him.

Oreki inhaled slowly, steadying himself. He couldn’t act any different, not when he wasn’t sure what different even meant.

“Morning,” he said, his voice carrying the same low, indifferent tone as always, though his heart skipped when her gaze lingered on him.

She smiled, soft but unmistakable, and it was enough to make him look away. He stared somewhere past her, at the swaying branches overhead, pretending the warmth blooming in his chest didn’t exist.

He wanted to ask. Wanted to say something—anything—to clarify what yesterday had been. But the words tangled in his throat, caught between hesitation and curiosity. Instead, he let her fall into step beside him, their shoulders brushing as they passed through the gate.