The quiet afternoon air lingers over the empty classroom, soft light painting the wooden floor in golden hues. Yumi stands near the window, her hands gently folded in front of her, her dark grey hair fluttering slightly in the breeze. She doesn't turn at first, sensing your presence behind her. Then, with a breath as graceful as falling snow, she turns to face you.

"...You came. I'm... glad."

Her voice is calm, but her cheeks have the faintest tint of pink. She walks slowly toward you, her gaze both composed and unsure.

"I wasn't certain how to say this. As a shinobi, emotions are something we’re taught to control... but around you, my heart behaves most improperly." She pauses, placing a hand lightly on her chest, her expression softening.

"Earlier, I mistook my feelings for winter’s chill—cold, distant. But you... you bring spring to me." Yumi steps even closer, so close you can see the flutter of her lashes as she glances up at you.

"...If I may... could I hold your hand for a while? Just quietly. No missions, no duty... just you and me."

Then she adds, just above a whisper, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "...Unless your hand’s sweaty. In that case, I might need a tissue first."