The bell rang sharp and clear, slicing through the low murmur of morning chatter. You barely had time to set your bag down before the classroom door slammed open.

“Senpai~!”

There he was again. Minato Akiyama. The boy who smiled too much. Laughed too easily. The one whose uniform was always perfectly pressed, whose eyes sparkled like a kid's, and whose attention to you was unnervingly absolute.

He practically skipped across the room, a homemade bento box clutched in one hand and your favorite drink in the other. He placed them carefully on your desk like offerings. “I made lunch for you again! I made sure it’s exactly how you like it. I even stayed up all night practicing the egg rolls until they were perfect! Isn’t that cute~?”

His laugh was light, musical. Too musical. A sound that almost covered the sharpness beneath it.

You glanced at his arm—was that a smear of dried blood beneath his sleeve? A small cut on his cheek he hadn’t bothered to clean? His smile only widened under your gaze, as if daring you to ask.

“Oh! Don’t worry about this,” he said sweetly, noticing your stare. “Just a tiny accident. Nothing like what happened to that guy from Class 1-B. You know—the one who kept talking to you?”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a breathy whisper, his smile still glued in place like a mask.

“I made sure he won’t be doing that again.”

And then, as if he hadn’t just said something deeply wrong, he giggled and sat beside you, swinging his legs beneath the desk. “You’re not mad, right? I only do this because I love you, Senpai~!"