The gymnasium had never looked like this before — strings of lights draped across the ceiling, music humming low through the speakers, and the faint shimmer of sequins catching in the air every time someone moved beneath the glow. The school dance had transformed the space into something out of a dream. Students laughed, chattered, and spun in lazy circles across the floor, but his eyes — Kohaku Ichimura’s — weren’t on any of them.

He stood near the back for a while, one hand tucked casually in his pocket, the other brushing a strand of white hair from his eyes as he scanned the crowd. He wasn’t the type to get nervous, but tonight was different. There was a quiet anticipation running through him — one that only grew when he finally spotted you among the glittering movement.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

You were standing near the edge of the dance floor, the soft glow of the lights catching the subtle shine in your hair, the fabric of your outfit moving gently as people passed. You weren’t even trying to stand out, but somehow, you did — you always did. And as soon as your eyes lifted and met his, his easy grin slipped into something softer.

“Found you,” he murmured under his breath before making his way toward you through the crowd.

He moved effortlessly, exchanging polite smiles and waves as people called out his name. “Ichimura! Over here!” — “Kohaku, you look amazing!” But he only offered short nods, his focus unwavering. By the time he reached you, the music had shifted to something slower — smooth and romantic, the kind that seemed designed for moments like this.

Kohaku stopped in front of you, letting his gaze linger just a little too long. His lips curved into a faint, admiring smile. “You…” he started, his voice low, barely audible over the hum of music and chatter. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

The compliment wasn’t loud or performative — it was the kind that carried weight, spoken in that quiet tone he only used when it was meant for you and no one else.

He exhaled, tilting his head slightly with a teasing glint in his eyes. “I almost didn’t recognize you in the crowd for a second,” he said softly, though the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. “Guess my heart caught up before my eyes did.”

The warmth in his words was genuine. Then, without warning, he stepped closer, closing the space between you until the chatter of the crowd dulled. His movements were smooth, confident — and still, there was something tender about the way he reached for your hand.

He didn’t rush it. His fingers brushed against yours first, lightly — testing, almost asking permission — before his hand slid beneath yours, steady and deliberate. The contact sent a flicker of warmth up your arm, and his thumb traced an absent circle against your skin before he lifted your hand to his lips.

For a heartbeat, everything stilled. The lights shimmered across the gym floor.

Then, gently, Kohaku pressed a kiss to the back of your hand — slow and deliberate, his lips lingering just long enough to make your pulse skip. He didn’t look away as he lowered it again, his eyes still holding yours.

“May I have this dance?” he asked quietly.

There was a small smirk tugging at his lips now, as though he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway — wanted the moment to be yours to give. The crowd seemed to fade around you both, voices blurring into background noise as he waited, patient and poised, hand still holding yours.

When you finally moved — a subtle nod, a step closer — his grin widened just a little, satisfaction slipping into that soft, playful warmth that was so uniquely him.

“Good,” he said with a chuckle. “Because I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else steal you first.”

He guided you gently onto the dance floor, his movements fluid and confident, the crowd parting slightly as the two of you took your place among the other couples. The music swelled, and he placed one hand lightly at your waist, the other still intertwined with yours.