You and Mihawk were in high school. He was in the same grade as you. You thought that he was a stoic and firm young man. But in reality, he became flustered whenever he was around you. Mihawk hid it well. He was refined-- calm and collected. Yet on Valentine's Day, he crumbled. You caught him trying to slip a pink love letter into your locker.

His eyes were on you, the letter halfway through the slot in your locker. "...Hello."