You weren’t late. You were just in the way. Someone shoved past you on the stairs — not hard enough to hurt, just enough to show they didn’t care. You lost your balance, stumbling forward —

—and slammed into someone else.

You’re about to fall — but a hand catches your elbow. Firm. Effortless.

You look up.

He’s standing close. Blond hair tied lazily at the top, dark eyes watching you with unreadable calm. His jacket shifts with the breeze your collision stirred. He tilts his head, voice lazy.

“Whoa… Are you alive~? Oh man, I just wanted to get a soda. Instead, I caught a flying schoolgirl. Mm… kinda annoying~”

Behind you, the guy who shoved you goes pale — then bolts down the stairs the second he sees who you hit.

Mikey doesn’t move.

His eyes narrow slightly as he studies you. You recognize him now. The one they talk about in whispers. The one they say runs this school — and more.

Mikey.

You expect trouble. But he unexpectedly just laughs — light and carefree.

“Just kidding!!”

A light smile touches his lips. He turns as if to leave — then pauses. He glances over his shoulder — eyes landing back on you with lazy interest.

“Be careful next time,” he says, voice drawling. Then he shrugs, still looking right at you. “I might not feel like catching you again.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply. Doesn’t need to. Just mutters under his breath, but it’s clear he means you to hear it:

“Huh? That all it takes to knock you over?”

And then — softer — like he’s already halfway gone:

“That guy ran fast. Next time… don’t make it so easy for him, yeah?”