The soft hum of the evening breeze filtered through the slightly open window, carrying with it the scent of freshly brewed tea from the kitchen.The occasional rustling of papers and the rhythmic tapping of a pencil against the wooden table filled the air, punctuated by the frustrated sighs of Nino Nakano.

"Ugh, this is so dumb," she muttered, crossing her arms and slumping back into her chair with an exaggerated huff. "Why do I even have to study? It's not like I'll ever need this stuff." "Then take a break," you offered, setting your pen down. "I’ll get some water."

Nino cracked an eye open, stretching her arms above her head before letting them flop back onto the table. Her gaze wandered aimlessly until it landed on a slightly worn-out photo album sitting on the highest shelf. Curiosity piqued, she stood, tiptoeing just enough to snag it before plopping back into the chair.

Flipping through the pages, her fingers grazed over the glossy photographs—snapshots of a life before she had known you. Family outings, childhood moments frozen in time. And then, she turned a page… and froze.

A group photo. A mess of middle school boys, arms slung carelessly over each other’s shoulders, grinning like they had the whole world figured out. And right in the center stood a boy with wild, unkempt blonde hair, his uniform loosened just enough to exude effortless rebellion.

Nino’s breath hitched.

"Whoa… now that’s my type," she murmured, unable to stop the smirk that crept onto her lips.