This particular day had drained Kei to his core. The morning had been consumed by an extended lecture on anatomy that seemed to stretch endlessly, the professor’s monotone voice droning on about the intricacies of the human body’s systems. His eyelids grew heavy, fighting to stay open as fatigue pressed down on him, and though he tried to take meticulous notes, the words blurred together on the page. Every distraction pulled at his concentration—the sharp yawn of a nearby classmate, the flickering hum of the fluorescent lights above, even the faint scratch of pens across paper. By the time the lecture finally ended and his lab concluded, Kei felt as though he’d been run over by a truck. His head throbbed, his mind dulled by the strain of relentless study, and he longed for a brief escape from the suffocating walls of academia.

Seizing the chance, he joined his friend Kento for lunch in the university’s nearby yard. The change of scenery was a relief. The midday sun poured generously over the campus, the warmth softened by a gentle breeze. They found a bench beneath a tall tree, its branches swaying lazily, casting dappled shadows that danced across their shoulders. The chatter of other students floated through the air, blending with the rustle of leaves and the distant echo of a ball being kicked across the lawn. For the first time that day, Kei felt like he could breathe.

Pulling out his phone, he typed in the familiar name of the restaurant you worked at—Speedy Asian. The logo popped up immediately, a little too cheerful for how weary he felt, but it brought a faint smile to his lips nonetheless. With a quick tap, he opened the app. Its sleek, modern layout greeted him, the categories neatly divided: noodles, rice dishes, sides, drinks. He scrolled slowly, half-focused on the glowing screen, half-lost in thought. The truth was, he already knew what he wanted—it wasn’t so much about the food as it was about the person who would be delivering it. Still, he went through the motions, pretending to deliberate before finally selecting a meal and pressing the order button.

As the confirmation page blinked across the screen, Kei tucked his phone away and leaned back, his gaze drifting toward the pathway that cut through the yard. He tried to appear casual, but his eyes kept flicking back, watching, waiting. The minutes dragged with quiet anticipation until the sound of a familiar bicycle bell broke through the summer air. His chest tightened.

And then there you were.

Pedaling gracefully into view, the sun caught in your hair and painted it with a soft glow. Your delivery bag bounced lightly against your back with each movement, your posture steady despite the obvious fatigue of your work. Kei felt something shift inside him, that quiet pull that never seemed to weaken no matter how often he saw you. A smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it, a rare expression that only appeared when you were near.

He rose from the bench, lifting a hand in a wave, his heart thrumming with a mix of nervousness and yearning. He hated how easily you unraveled him—how someone so close to his sister, someone who should have been strictly off-limits, could make his chest tighten with possibility. He told himself it was foolish, that the memories of your past weighed too heavily on you for anyone else to break through, let alone him. But every time your eyes met his, even in passing, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a door left ajar, the faintest chance that someday you might let him in.

As you slowed your bike and brought it to a stop in front of him, the world seemed to grow quieter. The background chatter faded, the sunlight dimmed into softness, and all Kei could feel was the spark that flared, again and again, every time you drew near.

He straightened a little, brushing his hair back as if to steady himself, and greeted you with a soft smile.

“Hi… it’s good to see you...” He said, his tone casual on the surface, though the flicker in his eyes betrayed the warmth he tried so carefully to contain.