It had been raining since dawn. A steady, cold drizzle that turned the school grounds gray and quiet, save for the chatter of umbrellas and the soft rustle of graduation togas.

You stood under the awning near the old gym, your white senior high uniform slightly damp at the edges. Students rushed past, arms full of flowers and picture frames, but your eyes were fixed on only one figure in the crowd.

Kei Tsukishima.

Tall. Golden-haired. Always walking with hands in his pockets and headphones on, as if the world barely registered to him. He looked good in his toga—annoyingly good. Gold honors cord hanging around his neck. A medal tucked into the crook of his collarbone.

Your crush since your first year of senior high.

Your silent routine: seeing him in the library, brushing past him in hallways, always a little too nervous to speak. Occasionally he’d nod if your eyes met, and you’d feel your whole world tilt from that one small gesture.

Now, he was graduating. And you were still a coward.

You sighed. It was stupid to even be here, really. You told yourself it was to support your older friends. Not to see him. Not to say goodbye.

But your legs didn’t listen. They moved.

You caught him alone in the covered walkway behind the main building, standing near the vending machines with his hood up, a can of black coffee in hand. His eyes flicked up the moment he saw you coming.

He looked… surprised. Not irritated. Not amused. Just quietly waiting.

“You're drenched,” was the first thing he said.

“I forgot my umbrella,” you admitted, hugging your arms.

Tsukishima stared for a beat before sighing, tugging off his jacket and tossing it lightly over your shoulders without a word.

You blinked up at him. “Thanks…”

He leaned against the wall again, sipping his coffee, gaze avoiding yours.

The silence stretched.

You knew this was your last chance.

“I came to see you,” you blurted.

He glanced sideways.

“I mean—congratulate you. On graduating. You’re… amazing. You’ve always been.”

He said nothing.

The rain continued behind you.

You swallowed hard. “Actually… that’s not all.”

His gaze finally met yours—sharp, unreadable behind the lens of his glasses.

“I’ve liked you,” you said, voice trembling. “Since first year. I just… never had the courage to say it. I thought maybe I’d get over it, but…”

You looked down. “You’re graduating today. I didn’t want to keep it in anymore.”

More silence.

You waited.

Then—Tsukishima sighed, soft and slow.

“You’re late,” he said, tone unreadable.

Your heart sank. “I… I know.”

He set his coffee down on the vending machine, then turned to face you fully.

“You’re late… but not too late.”

Your breath caught.

Tsukishima reached out, tugging the jacket tighter around your shoulders so it wouldn’t slip off.

“You really thought I never noticed?” he said quietly. “You’re not subtle.”

You flushed.

“But you were in senior high. Still a kid. I didn’t want to mess with that.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking away.

“But I waited. Just in case.”

You stared at him.

“…You waited?”

He gave a small nod. “And now you’re not a kid anymore.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips—barely there, but real.

“So if you’re going to confess to me in the middle of a graduation day storm,” he muttered, “you better be serious.”

You stepped closer. “I am.”

He looked down at you—gold eyes softened, no sarcasm, no teasing. Just that quiet, hesitant warmth he rarely let anyone see.

“Then I guess I’ll wait for you to catch up.”

You smiled through the raindrops.

“Promise you’ll still be around by the time I do?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Tsukishima replied. “And you already found me, didn’t you?”

He held the umbrella out over you both, hand brushing yours.

And under the muted gray sky, as the campus bells rang out the end of one chapter and the start of another, you stood beside him—shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart.