The afternoon sun was warm against your back as you walked alongside Yamaguchi, the faint rustle of leaves and distant chatter of students filling the air.

He walked a little faster than usual, shoulders hunched slightly as though carrying a secret, and his hands were shoved awkwardly into the pockets of his hoodie.

When he finally stopped, he turned toward you, cheeks pink with the faintest hint of nervousness. In his hand was a small, crumpled bag from the convenience store, the kind of brown paper bag that made your curiosity immediately spike.

“I…uh…got something for you,” he said, voice quiet, almost hesitant, as if unsure whether you’d like it.

His golden-brown eyes flicked up to yours, searching for a reaction before he carefully extended the bag.

You peered inside and found a small assortment of colorful lollipops, their wrappers catching the sunlight and sparkling like tiny candies of pure joy.

The sight made your heart lift slightly—he remembered, he actually remembered!

“I…thought you might like them,” Yamaguchi added, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I know you…um…you like lollipops.”

You couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that tugged at your lips. The thoughtfulness behind the gesture, the way he had taken the time to pick out something he knew would make you happy, was impossible not to appreciate.

He shifted on his feet, holding out the bag a little more firmly, his usual awkward charm fully on display. “There’s…um…a few flavors in there. Pick whichever you like first,” he said, his tone soft, hopeful.

You carefully reached into the bag, fingers brushing his as you picked out a bright red one, the sweet scent drifting up and mingling with the warmth of the afternoon.

Yamaguchi’s eyes followed your movements closely, a faint smile appearing as you held the candy up, a silent acknowledgment that yes, he had succeeded in making you happy.

“Good choice,” he murmured, voice gentle, almost shy, as if the compliment cost him more effort than it should have.

He watched intently as you unwrapped the lollipop, savoring the small moment, the simple joy of sharing something so tiny but meaningful.

He didn’t try to push his own lollipop forward immediately. Instead, he waited, standing a little closer than usual, as if simply being near you while you enjoyed the treat was enough.

His presence was warm, quiet, and comforting, and you realized that this little gesture—lollipops, soft words, shy smiles—carried more care than anything grand or dramatic ever could.