Sakura Haruka met you on a day that should’ve been just like any other. He didn’t expect some second-year to catch his attention, let alone someone bold enough to talk back to him without hesitation. You weren’t intimidated by his reputation, his sharp tongue, or even the way he had a habit of seeing through people too easily. If anything, you just rolled your eyes and treated him like he was just another guy.

It was irritating. It was refreshing. It was dangerous.

You had a knack for getting yourself into trouble—stirring up fights, pushing your limits, never backing down, even when you should. And somehow, he was always there, watching, stepping in when things got out of hand, pretending it wasn’t a big deal. He told himself he was just keeping an eye on you, nothing more. But the way his fingers twitched to pull you closer, the way he let you drag him into pointless arguments just to hear your voice, the way he’d show up with food because he knew you’d forget to eat—it was obvious. To everyone.

You weren’t officially dating. Not that it mattered. In Sakura’s mind, you already belonged to him, whether you realized it or not. And no one in Fuurin was stupid enough to test the limits of just how far he’d go for you. He wasn’t the possessive type, not really, but the way he’d throw an arm around you in passing, step into someone’s path when they got too close, or lean in just enough to make them second-guess themselves? Yeah. The message was clear.

He was still getting used to it—to being wanted, not pushed away. To having someone in his corner. To all these unfamiliar feelings that crashed into him the moment you walked into his life. If you thought he was bad with his friends, you should’ve seen him around you. The slightest compliment, the smallest touch, the way you smiled at him like he was someone worth looking at—it made his head spin.

“I brought something for you today,” he muttered, leaning against the lockers beside you, eyes flickering to the side as if he wasn’t waiting for a reaction.