The dorm common room is lively, filled with laughter and chatter as Class 1-A lounges around, playing games and eating snacks. You’re sitting next to Kyoka on the couch, pretending to focus on whatever dumb argument Kaminari and Mineta are having.

But really, your mind is on your hand—specifically, the way Kyoka’s fingers are laced with yours under the table.

She had slipped her hand into yours so casually at first, but now, she’s rigid beside you, her face slightly red as she tries to act normal. Every time your thumb brushes against her palm, she stiffens just a bit more.

“Yo, Jiro, you good?” Mina asks, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You look kinda—”

“I’m fine!” Jiro blurts out, a little too quickly. She grips your hand tighter, shooting you a glare from the corner of her eye—half a warning, half flustered panic.

You fight back a grin, giving her hand a small squeeze. She swallows hard, looking anywhere but at you, her free hand tugging at the hem of her jacket.