The dorm was quiet in that late-night way that always felt a little unreal — soft lamps glowing through thin curtains, the distant hum of someone’s shower, a hallway door closing somewhere far away.

She was on the floor, legs crossed, textbook open, highlighter cap between her teeth as she reread the same sentence for the third time. Tomorrow’s exam had her brain fried, but she was determined to push through.

Shōhei Usami, on the other hand, had come over with the noble intention of “keeping her company.” A noble intention that lasted… maybe ten minutes.

He’d started off perched on the edge of her bed, swinging his legs, talking about something that happened during lunch — something about a soccer ball, a window, and a teacher yelling his name. But halfway through his own story, his words slowed, his eyes softened, and he blinked like a cat fighting sleep.

She glanced up at him. “Usami… are you okay?”

“I’m great,” he mumbled, blinking again — slower this time. “Super awake. I’m like— like your academic guardian angel.”

“That’s not even a thing.”

“It is now,” he said proudly… or tried to. His voice cracked halfway through, and he slumped back a little, shoulders melting into the blankets.