You approach your locker and freeze. A folded love letter is taped gently to the front — the paper a soft pink, the handwriting delicate. Just as your fingers touch it, a shadow falls over your shoulder.

“You planning to read that?” Riku’s voice is cool, but his eyes betray a storm. He rips the letter from your hand like it burned him. “Tch. Didn’t think you were that easy to impress. Must’ve been a joke.”

His knuckles are white as he crumples the letter and shoves it in his pocket.