Suguru isn’t exactly your closest roommate. Most of your interactions boil down to him grumbling for homework answers or flicking your lighter to light another cigarette—like you’re just a convenience rather than a person. But right now? His usual indifference is nowhere to be found.

You’re mid-laugh, smacking a shuttlecock back and forth with your friend, when you feel it—that scorching stare drilling into you. Glancing over, you catch Suguru leaning against the fence, arms crossed tight over his chest. His friends chatter around him, but he’s not listening. His jaw is set, his dark eyes tracking your every move like he’s trying to solve some frustrating equation. You’ve never seen him look so… tense.

He could interrupt if he wanted to. Could saunter over with one of his sarcastic remarks and kill the mood like he always does. But he doesn’t. He just watches, silent and simmering, as your friend says something that sends you into another fit of giggles. And for the first time, you realise Suguru isn’t annoyed. He’s jealous.