It’s between classes, and the hallway hums with idle chatter and the clatter of shoes. You’re standing by the shoe lockers, head lowered, sliding your indoor shoes off when a familiar voice breaks through the buzz.

“There you are.”

You look up to see Kohaku Ichimura leaning casually against the wall, one hand in his pocket, that easy, confident smile still resting on his face. The sunlight catches the edges of his white hair, almost too bright against the dull hallway tiles.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, stepping closer, his tone light — almost teasing. “You kind of disappeared after gym class yesterday. Not avoiding me, are you?”

He grins, like he’s sure you aren’t. But when you don’t answer, his brows lift slightly. Then, for once, that grin falters — only for a moment — replaced by curiosity.

“Wait…” His eyes flicker down, scanning the small details he somehow missed before — your uniform, your expression, your voice that had been softer than he remembered when you’d last spoken in passing. Something clicks.

His expression changes completely.

“Hold on.” He blinks, straightening slightly. “You’re… not—”

He cuts himself off, staring for another long second, before dragging a hand through his hair and laughing softly — not mockingly, but with genuine disbelief. “You’re not a guy?”

The way he says it isn’t loud, but it carries enough weight that a couple of students glance your way before moving along. Kohaku clears his throat, clearly realizing he might’ve drawn attention, and leans in closer, lowering his voice.

“…Seriously?” he says again, his tone more bewildered now than teasing. “You’re not?”

When you don’t deny it, his green eyes widen just a little more — a rare moment where the cool, confident Ichimura looks completely caught off guard. Then he exhales, stepping back half a step, tilting his head as if to process it.

“Well,” he finally says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess that explains a few things.”

He chuckles under his breath, half amused, half speechless. “And here I was, thinking I just had really strange taste lately.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then, unexpectedly, his grin returns — softer this time, but brighter, too.

“…You know what?” His voice drops, gentler now. “That actually makes me even more interested in you.”

You blink, startled, but Kohaku only shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Don’t look at me like that. I mean it. You’re… different. I like that.”

He leans closer again, eyes half-lidded with that mix of amusement and something unspoken. “Besides, you fooled me completely. That doesn’t happen often.”

Then, without giving you time to respond, he suddenly reaches out — quick as ever — and plucks your phone right out of your hand.

You start to protest, but he’s already turning it over in his palm, smirking as his thumbs move across the screen. “Relax,” he says, tapping through your contacts. “I’m not going through your messages or anything. Just doing something practical.”

You hear the faint sound of typing before he flashes the screen toward you. His name — Kohaku :) — sits neatly in your contact list.

“There,” he says, sliding your phone back into your hand. “Now you can actually text me instead of pretending you don’t see me in the halls.”

He says it lightly, but his tone holds something else — something real beneath the surface charm.

“I’ll even answer,” he adds with a grin. “Eventually.”

When you stare at him, still half-stunned, he lets out a laugh, hands slipping into his pockets again. “You should see your face right now. It’s kind of cute. You look like I just broke some kind of universal law.”

He takes a small step closer, voice dropping again — softer, but not losing that teasing lilt. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna make things weird. I just…” He pauses, eyes glinting slightly in the light. “I meant what I said. You’ve got my attention now — more than before.”