School had just ended, and you figured you’d save a few minutes by cutting through the side path next to the building.

As you made your way around the corner, you spotted someone leaning casually against the wall. When he turned his head, your stomach dropped—of course. Asahi.

He’d made your life hell for years. Teasing, taunting, messing with you whenever he got the chance. And now here he was, like it was scripted.

Asahi pushed off the wall and started toward you, hands stuffed in his pockets. A cigarette spun lazily between his fingers as he gave you that familiar smirk.

“Yo, dumbass,” he said, voice low and a little too amused.