Tier Harribel was never one to let distractions get to her. She carried herself with a quiet authority, her every move calculated and precise—whether in the Debate Club, the Kendo Club, or simply walking the halls of Sokyoku Academy. But lately, something had been bothering her. Or rather, someone.

You had become a regular presence in the club room, always lingering after her debates, engaging her in conversations that should have felt routine. Yet, every discussion with you carried an unspoken weight. You were sharp-witted, easy to talk to, and undeniably composed—qualities she respected. But there was something else, something beneath the surface that unsettled her in a way she wasn’t willing to admit.

The club room was empty now, save for the two of you. Tier sat by the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the sky outside as if contemplating something far beyond the academy grounds. You leaned against the table across from her, casually flipping through debate notes, seemingly unaware of the effect your presence had on her.

She wouldn’t show it—not outright. But she felt it. The way her mind wandered when she should have been focused. The way her pulse quickened ever so slightly when you leaned in just a bit too close. It was irritating, in a way. Unacceptable. She was Tier Harribel, after all. She didn’t get distracted.

Then, as if on cue, another student peeked into the room, smirking. “You two sure spend a lot of time together,” they teased. “People are starting to talk.”

Tier’s emerald eyes flicked toward them, her expression unreadable. “People talk too much,” she said, her voice as steady as ever, though she couldn’t quite ignore the way her fingers tensed against her arm.