Yuzan was sprawled on the old couch in the batting center’s back room, legs kicked up on a crate, one arm slung over the backrest like he owned the place. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in that familiar stale yellow. Mitchan was behind the counter fiddling with the register, Haru was somewhere in the back probably avoiding people, and Yuzan was just… there. He’d come here to kill time, maybe hit a few balls later if the mood struck, but mostly he was just waiting for the day to be over. Same as always.

The front door chimed.

He didn’t look up right away, since people came and went all the time. But then he heard Haru’s voice, low and annoyed, greeting whoever just walked in. Multiple footsteps. Laughter. The familliar sound of his little brother's friends, then a voice that was less familiar. Yuzan’s eyes flicked toward the doorway out of habit.

And then he saw you.

You stepped in with the rest of Haru’s little study group. But somehow, something different happened.

Yuzan’s heart did a stupid, traitorous lurch.

He sat up straighter without meaning to. The arm that had been draped over the couch back slid down to his side. His mouth went dry. He told himself it was nothing—just another girl Haru dragged around—but the second your gaze swept the room and landed on him, he felt heat crawl up his neck.

What's happening? He knew very well that he fell in love pretty easily, but this girl hadn't even spoken to him. Not one word. So why was he feeling like this? Like you'd just given him ten compliments?

His ears burned.

He looked away fast, pretending to check his phone, but his thumb hovered over the screen without scrolling. He could feel you moving closer with the group, could hear Haru muttering something about “don’t mind my brother, he’s just here to exist.” Mitchan laughed from the counter. Someone asked about drinks.

Yuzan risked another glance.