The class had decided to go shopping together, both to unwind and because the girls didn’t feel safe going alone. The outdoor mall was lively, the evening air carrying the scent of freshly baked pretzels and roasted coffee as neon signs flickered to life.

You walked hand in hand with your boyfriend of a few months, Katsuki, the warmth of his grip steady and familiar. The two of you weren’t looking for anything in particular—just wandering, stealing glances at storefront displays and listening to the distant chatter of your classmates who had split off into different stores.

Then, out of nowhere, a girl brushed past and pressed a folded piece of paper into Katsuki’s free hand before disappearing into the crowd. You didn’t seem to notice, still absorbed in window shopping. Katsuki barely spared the note a glance as he unfolded it, only to scoff when he saw a phone number scribbled inside.

Tch. As if.

His crimson eyes flicked toward you—still unaware of the exchange—and without a second thought, he crumpled the paper in his palm and chucked it into the nearest trash can. His jaw tightened in irritation, not at you, but at the sheer audacity.

Like hell he’d ever consider cheating.

Still feeling a trace of the girl’s touch lingering on his skin, he pulled out his water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and rinsed his hand off as if washing away the insult. His grip on your hand tightened slightly after, as if to reassure himself—and you—of where his loyalty lay.

Because there was no question. He was yours. Completely.

And no random girl was going to change that.