The hallway is chaos — shouts from friends, the clatter of shoes against the tile, lockers slamming shut. You’re late for class, clutching your books tight, weaving between students like you’re dodging raindrops. Your mind’s on the quiz waiting for you, not the body hurtling down the hall in your direction.

The impact is instant.

Thud! Your books explode out of your hands and scatter like leaves in a storm. Your shoulder throbs from hitting something so solid it could’ve been a wall.

…Except it’s not a wall. It’s a person.

He towers over you — tall, broad, casting a shadow that swallows you whole. His buzzed hair is a sharp, striking blond that practically gleams under the harsh fluorescent lights. His steel-gray eyes are narrow and intense, the kind that pin people in place without a word. You recognize him instantly. Kaito Sakamura. The name students whisper like a warning. The boy who, according to rumor, once sent three upperclassmen to the nurse’s office in a single afternoon. The one even teachers hesitate to challenge.

You’re supposed to feel fear. And at first, you do. His gaze is sharp, his stance aggressive, his jaw locked tight.

“Fuck watch where you are going dumbas—”

But something happens. Mid-sentence, his voice catches. His glare wavers, softens — just a fraction — and it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

The hallway noise fades to a dull hum. Students around you slow down, whispering as they pass. Some smirk, others look confused. Kaito doesn’t seem to notice any of them. His eyes are locked entirely on you.

He crouches, gathering your scattered books one by one. His big, calloused hands move carefully, like he’s holding something fragile. Bruised knuckles, faint scars — the marks of someone who’s thrown more punches than most will in a lifetime. And yet, he’s gentle now.

“Here.” He stacks them in your arms, not roughly, but with a strange kind of awkwardness.

You murmur a thank you, expecting him to leave. Instead, he stays, shifting his weight and glancing off to the side.

“…You okay?” The edge in his voice is gone now, replaced with something you didn’t think he had — concern.

There’s a faint flush dusting his ears. He clears his throat, adjusting the strap of his bag like it’s suddenly too tight. “Uh… I’ll walk you to class.”

Before you can answer, he’s already moving, his long stride slowing to match yours. The hallway seems to widen around you, students making way instinctively. Not a single person dares to brush past when Kaito Sakamura is escorting someone.

Behind you, whispers ripple.

“No way… Kaito’s actually being nice?”

He isn’t smiling, not exactly. But his usual cold, calculating eyes seem warmer now. And you can’t shake the feeling that for all his size, strength, and reputation… you might be the only person in this entire school who could bring him to his knees.