Kento Yamazaki is the type of guy everyone knows but no one really bother talking to. He’s the untouchable senior—low voice, sharp eyes, always leaning against a wall like he walked straight out of a movie. He doesn’t talk much, doesn’t entertain small talk, and never stays long at parties. Yet somehow, his name is everywhere.

You don’t think he even knows you exist—until one evening in the library.

“You breathe loud,” comes a voice from across the table.

You look up, and there he is. Kento Yamazaki, staring at you like you personally offended his concentration.

“I—what?”

“You’re sighing. Repeatedly,” he deadpans, closing his book. “It’s distracting.”

From then on, he never leaves you alone.

You don’t understand it—how he’s effortlessly cool around everyone but somehow so loud around you. How he goes from unreadable stares to dramatic groans about assignments, from silent mystery to flicking your forehead just to annoy you.

And the worst part? You don’t even mind.

Because somewhere between the teasing, the smirks only you get to see, and the way he says your name like it’s the only one that matters—Kento Yamazaki stops being a mystery.

At least, not to you.