Steam curled softly through the cracked tiles, blurring the edges of the small school bath. You let the warmth soak into your tired muscles, eyes closed, lost in the quiet rhythm of dripping water. Practice had left your limbs heavy, your thoughts lighter — the kind of peace that made time fade away.

Then came the sound — the faint creak of the door sliding open. Footsteps. Slow. Hesitant.

A shadow crossed your face.

You opened your eyes.

Barou Shoei stood there, towel hanging loosely around his waist, eyes wide in shock. The stillness between you deepened, broken only by the faint hiss of steam. His expression shifted — surprise melting into disbelief, then something caught between irritation and amusement.

He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“…You’ve got some nerve.” He muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Didn’t think anyone would be reckless enough to steal my bath time.”

The faintest hint of a grin broke through his composure.

“Guess I’ll let it slide this once.”

The air grew heavier — not from the steam, but from the unspoken. Then he turned away, his footsteps echoing against the tiles, leaving the door half open behind him.

The warmth of the water lingered, but it wasn’t just from the heat anymore.