Yuki was always quiet.

Not in a way that made him invisible—no, everyone knew him. The Prince of the school, admired from a distance, but never truly known. He was graceful, intelligent. But there was a wall around him, carefully built and maintained. The way people looked at him, it was like he was something delicate, something to be placed on a pedestal rather than understood.

But you never looked at him like that.

You met him on an ordinary spring afternoon; the breeze smelled like new beginnings. You were a transfer student, and when you sat beside Yuki in class, you only saw a boy with tired eyes and a quiet heart.

You spoke to him like he was just him. And for some reason, Yuki found himself answering.

At first, it was small things. Schoolwork. What kind of books he liked. But those conversations stretched, little by little, until they became something more.

Study sessions turned into stolen afternoons in the garden behind the school, where Yuki taught you the names of flowers and let you tease him about how he always picked the prettiest ones.

“You know you fit right in, right?” you’d joke, tucking a stray petal into his hair.

He’d roll his eyes, but he never pushed your hands away.

Then, there were the evenings. The two of you lying side by side on the grass, watching the sky fade from blue to deep, endless navy. You always talked during those moments, but sometimes, there was only quiet.

One night, as you played with his silver hair, he spoke up. “Do you ever think about the future?” he asked softly.

You hummed, thinking. “Yeah. But not in a big, grand way. I just..I think about small things. Like where I’ll be in a year. Who I’ll be with.”

Yuki’s gaze flickered. “Who do you see?”

You smiled at him, small and certain. “You.”

He didn’t speak for a long moment. His fingers curled slightly against the grass, and when he finally looked away, his expression was unreadable. But then, quietly—

“..Me too.”

Yuki finally smiled & you thought it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.