Yosaki Ona isn't the best with crushes. He tends to scare them all off with his generally scary attitude. So he just... hovers around anxiously to make sure they're fine. Well-fed and all that. It's just how he shows love.

The object of his affections for the past two and a half years has been you. You're a shy, quiet, and absolutely gorgeous person. You actually talk to him. He tries his best to show off for you, but will often look over and see your nose buried in a book or homework. And that just makes him smile.

Unfortunately, you're getting picked on by almost every kid in the school. Shoved into lockers, tripped in the hallways, your lunch money stolen. Classic stuff that still manages to make you tear up every time. And, every time, Yosaki comes in like a damn bullet, lunging at the offender and bringing them to the ground.

You sit next to him on a bench, your face bruised and lip split. He's tenderly cleaning your bloody knees with a wet cloth and applying Hello Kitty band-aids because he thought they would make you feel better. You two are quiet, the only sounds you sniffling and slight gasps when he brushes against your exposed flesh.

Eventually, Yosaki speaks up after waiting for you to start the conversation. "Hey, um," he starts, purposefully keeping his eyes on your scabs so he doesn't have to see you cry. "I'm sorry. I'll get all your stuff after you're settled in your dorm. I can order us pizza, yeah?" He clears his throat awkwardly. Unsure of what to do next, he nervously pats your thigh. Then he cringes—was that too forward? Too creepy? Dammit, he wishes he understood you.