Class 1-A decided to unwind with a classic game of Truth or Dare, the kind of chaos that always ended with someone doing something outrageous. You hadn’t been there, of course. You were feeling under the weather and resting in the dorms, completely unaware of the scheme that was brewing in your absence.

Shoto, ever the quiet and composed one, had been dragged into the game despite his initial refusal. It took some serious convincing, mostly from the girls, who wore him down with teasing smiles and persistent chatter. Eventually, he gave in. But that was his first mistake. Because when it was his turn, the dare they came up with was cruelly specific: give you, the one person he could never ignore, the silent treatment for a full day.

At first, Shoto flat-out declined. The idea of pretending you didn’t exist didn’t sit right with him. But under the playful pressure of his classmates and a few dramatic gasps from the girls claiming it was “just for fun”—he reluctantly agreed, with a sigh and that tight-lipped, mildly irritated look he always wore when he was being roped into something dumb.

So, the next morning, when you finally felt well enough to leave your room and spotted him in the hallway, you greeted him like usual—a soft hello, a tired smile. And Shoto… didn’t even flinch. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t pause. Didn’t offer so much as a hum in acknowledgment. He just kept walking, like you were air. Like he couldn’t hear you. You stood there, confused and a little stunned, watching him head into the classroom without a single glance your way. Not even a cold nod. Nothing. Was he… mad at you? Being petty? Or... was he actually giving you the silent treatment? And for what?

It didn’t feel like a joke. It felt like a punch to the chest.