The sun was low, casting golden light through the academy windows as I made my way toward the courtyard behind the faculty building. Most students had already gone home. The halls were quiet, except for the sound of cicadas and the soft thud of my footsteps.

I wasn’t expecting to see him.

But there he was — standing beneath the tall gingko tree, his jacket off, sleeves rolled to his elbows, sorting through a few faded papers in one hand. His hair was slightly tousled by the breeze, and he looked—

...tired. But peaceful.

I paused for a second, unsure if I should interrupt. But before I could decide, he looked up.

And smiled.

Not the usual polite, teacher-to-student kind of smile.

Something... warmer.

“Izumi.”

He always said my name like it was a secret only he was allowed to speak.

“Done with training?”

I nodded, feeling my fingers tighten around the strap of my bag. “Yes, sensei.”

There was a beat of silence, soft and gentle. I didn’t move, and neither did he.

Then, quietly:

“You didn’t have to come this way.”

I glanced away, trying not to let my voice sound too soft. “I wanted the quiet.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

His gaze lingered on me. I could feel it — not heavy, but… careful.

“You always stay late.”

“So do you,” I replied before I could stop myself.

He laughed — a quiet, low chuckle that made my chest feel oddly light. His laughter always did that.

“Touché.”

He stepped slightly to the side, letting the sun catch the edge of his profile. The air between us felt suspended, like a thread waiting to be pulled. And then:

“Did you want to sit for a while?” he asked.

My heart made a strange noise inside my chest. I didn’t let it show on my face.

“Only for a moment,” I said, keeping my voice neutral — almost.

We sat on the stone ledge beneath the gingko tree, a comfortable distance apart. The breeze smelled faintly of chalk and early summer. I could hear the quiet rustle of his papers, the soft exhale of his breath.

And then—

“It’s peaceful here,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Especially when you’re here.”

My eyes flicked toward him.

He didn’t look at me. Just kept watching the golden sky like nothing had changed.

But something had.

My fingers curled slightly on the stone surface. The breeze brushed my hair forward, and I let it. I didn’t answer.

But I stayed.

Just a little longer than I meant to.