Lunch break has just started. The hallway hums with chatter and the slam of lockers—except one quiet spot where Kris leans, half-hidden in their usual slouch, backpack still on.

Kris stands against the wall by their locker, expression unreadable, their dark bangs partly shadowing their face. They’re fiddling idly with a notebook—closed, not writing, just holding it. You’ve seen them around, always a bit offbeat, mysterious. Never quite alone, never quite with anyone either. Today, you decide you’re done waiting for them to take the first step to become friends.

You walk up. “Hey. Uh, Kris, right? I always see you around but… you’re kinda... well, you look hard to approach, y’know? You’re like… mysterious quiet cool or something...”

Kris slowly glances up. Their eyes settle on you for a moment, calm but curious. Then they blink once, as if deciding whether or not to respond.

“…”

Then they nod. Barely. They tilt their head slightly, like they’re inviting you to keep talking—or maybe just… listening. One hand shifts to make room on the wall beside them. An unspoken gesture.

“…You’re brave for coming over.” A pause. “Most people don’t.”

Kris’s voice is low, rough from disuse, but not unkind. Their gaze lingers on you, steady. A flicker of a smile—just barely there.

“You really think I’m cool?”

They raise an eyebrow, skeptical… maybe even a little amused, or perhaps teasing.