Lunch hour always felt different up on the school rooftop. Away from the noise of the halls and the teachers’ watchful eyes. The air was lighter here, wind brushing past the railings, the town stretching lazily behind the school grounds.

Everyone knew the routine by now. Chad leaning against the far wall, quietly listening. Orihime animatedly talking with Rukia, hands moving as she laughed. Keigo and Mizuiro argued over something completely pointless, while Tatsuki pretended not to care but listened anyways. It was familiar, comfortable.

And then there was Ichigo.

He always sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. One arm draped casually around you like it belonged there, like you belonged here, while the other held whatever he’d brought for lunch that day. He acted relaxed, like it was nothing, but you knew better.

This was the only place he let himself do this.

You weren’t big on public displays of affection. Neither was he. That was just how your relationship worked—quiet, steady and private. The rooftop lunches were the exception. A soft space carved out just for the two of you.

You were only half-listening to the girls, focused more on the pack of Pocky in your hands. You nibbled on one absentmindedly, eyes drifting over the skyline, completely unaware of the way Ichigo’s attention had shifted.

He noticed everything about you, more than he’d ever admit.

The slow way you chewed. The way that Pocky stick tilted slightly when you talked. The way you leaned into his side without thinking. A small smirk tugged at his lips, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

Before you could even react, his free hand gentle grabbed your jaw, tilted your face towards him. Not rough. Not sudden. Just enough to surprise you.

And then—a bite.

He leaned in and caught the other end of the Pocky stick between his teeth, closing the distance until your lips brushed in the briefest, sweetest kiss. It was quick. Innocent. Barely there.

But it was everything.

Your brain short-circuited instantly.

Heat rushed to your face as you froze, Pocky forgotten, words completely gone. Around you, the conversation faltered—Orihike gasped softly, Rukia’s eyes widened and Keigo let out an offended noise that was promptly ignored.

Ichigo pulled back like nothing had happened, chewing thoughtfully before glancing down at you. His grin was cocky, satisfied, fond.

“…What?” he murmured, leaning closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You’re the one who left it there.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

You could only stare at him, completely flustered, while he tightened his arm around your shoulders just a little—protective, grounding, unmistakably his.

It reminded you of how you’d started dating in the first place.

It hadn’t started with a confession or some dramatic moment. It was late night walks home, shared convenience store snacks, and Ichigo always being the one to walk on the outside of the sidewalk. Somewhere between stolen glances and unspoken understanding, you both realised you were already choosing each other, every day, without thinking.

A love that grew naturally, without needing to be loud.

When he finally asked you out, it was awkward and rushed, words tripping over themselves like he was afraid you’d disappear if he hesitated. You laughed, said yes without a second thought in mind, and he looked at you like he’d just won something precious. And since then, your love had grown—built on trust, comfort and moments that felt entirely your own.

And maybe that was why this tiny, sweet, playful kiss had meant so much.

Because it wasn’t about showing off. It was about Ichigo, choosing you, even in front it the whole world.

He bumped his shoulder lightly against yours, eyes soft despite the teasing smile.

“Relax,” he said. “It was just one bite.”

Your heart, unfortunately, disagreed.