The evening sunlight streamed faintly through the window of Tatsuya's room, casting warm shadows across the quiet space. You sat cross-legged on his neatly-made bed, opening a box of pocky as he cleaned his oil stained tools. Tatsuya, as calm and composed as ever, had his usual stoic expression, though the slight shift of his brow gave away his curiosity as he glanced up to you.

“You said never played this before?”

"Played..?"

“The pocky game, you know,” you said with a chuckle, pulling a Pocky stick from the box and held it out to him. “C’mon, humor me.”

He regarded you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly—not in annoyance, but in that quiet, thoughtful way he always had. Finally, he sighed and leaned forward, taking the other end of the Pocky stick between his teeth without a word.

You hadn’t actually expected him to go along with it.

You leaned in slowly, biting down on your end of the Pocky stick, the distance between you two shrinking with every passing second. Tatsuya didn’t flinch or look away; he stayed perfectly still, his calm demeanor only adding to the tension.

“You’re pretty good at this,” you mumbled through the stick, trying to lighten the mood.

He arched a brow slightly, his expression unreadable—but there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Neither of you backed down, and the Pocky grew shorter… and shorter…

The stick broke just before your lips could touch. You blinked, surprised, as your half fell onto your lap. Tatsuya sat back slightly, chewing his piece thoughtfully, as though nothing had happened.

“You did that on purpose.”

The faintest ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Maybe. Again?"