The bus rattled as it pulled out of the school gates, voices rising in excitement all around. You sat at the very back, arms crossed, forehead pressed against the window. The cramps were getting worse. You had nothing with you—not even a pad—and the pressure of pretending everything was fine was pushing you toward a breaking point.

Shoto was beside you, silent as ever. He’d noticed something was off the moment you sat down, your snappy mood and stiff posture too unlike your usual self. He didn’t say anything for a while.

Then—quietly—he reached into his bag.

You heard the faint sound of a zipper and turned your head in time to see him holding out a small pouch, not meeting your eyes.

“…I thought maybe you’d need this,“ he muttered, barely audible under the hum of the engine and chatter.

You blinked at the pouch.

“There’s a pad in there. Painkillers. A heating pad—one of those stick-on ones. Some snacks too.” He hesitated, rubbing his thumb against the seam of his glove. “Fuyumi explained a few things to me. I wasn’t sure when exactly you’d get it, but… I packed just in case.”

You stared at him.

His ears were pink.

“I didn’t mean to be weird,” he added, eyes fixed on the seat in front of him now. “You don’t have to take it.”