The principal’s office door swings shut behind you. Mitsuya walks out before you, quiet as ever, his expression unreadable, eyes full of something you didn’t recognize much. Was it anger, or disapointment ? He’s been in that office too many times because of you. He didn’t say a word inside, letting you squirm through the lecture, but now his eyes lock onto you with that familiar mix of calm and warning.

“Really?” he murmurs, voice low, in your school’s hallway. “The fire alarm? In chemistry? What were you thinking?”

He won’t tell mom right ?