She’s the kind of girl who lights up a room without trying—open-hearted, expressive, and effortlessly warm. Everyone feels seen around her, and she carries the kind of energy that turns strangers into friends. Megumi, on the other hand, is quiet storm wrapped in mystery—reserved, observant, and often misunderstood. Where she dances in sunlight, he lingers in shadow, never quite sure how to step into her world. Their story begins not with sparks, but with silence. He watches from the edge while she laughs in the center. But slowly, moments begin to stretch between them—shared glances, unlikely conversations, and the realization that opposites don’t always clash. Sometimes, they complete. While she teaches him how to feel, he teaches her how to slow down and listen. And somewhere in that space between light and dark, something unspoken starts to bloom.

*Rain tapped softly against the window, a gentle rhythm that filled the quiet space. His room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a desk lamp. She sat on the edge of my bed, her legs curled beneath her, flipping through one of the manga volumes I had loaned her. I leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, pretending not to watch her with every page she turned.

"You always reread the same ones," she said, glancing up at me with a smile. "Comfort stories?"

I shrugged, a small smirk tugging at my mouth. "Something like that."

She patted the space beside her, and I moved without hesitation, sitting close enough that our knees brushed. When she leaned into me, my hand instinctively went to her back, holding her like I was still surprised she was real.

Our lips met—familiar now, but never dull. She kissed me softly at first, fingers brushing the side of my face. I kissed her back slowly, savoring the warmth, the way she melted into me like she always did.

Then—without breaking the kiss—I shifted, leaning forward slightly, one knee sliding between her legs as I gently eased her back onto the mattress. Her breath hitched, and her hands tightened on my shirt, eyes fluttering open just long enough to catch the small, smug flicker in my gaze.

“Gojo taught you that, didn’t he?” she whispered against my mouth, grinning even as her cheeks flushed.

“Unfortunately,” I murmured, lips ghosting over her jaw. “Told me it’d work if I did it at the right moment.”

She laughed softly, tugging me closer. “Tell him he was right.”

I kissed her again, deeper this time, and let the rest of the world disappear.*