Y/N hadn’t expected to befriend Mebuki Akihiro—he wasn’t the type who drew people in. He kept to himself, quiet and polite, always hovering close to his sister in a way that made most classmates avoid approaching. Yet somehow, Y/N found themselves sitting beside him during breaks, exchanging hesitant words that slowly turned into short conversations. There was something disarming about his soft-spoken nature, and though he smiled politely, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something about him lingered beneath the surface.

The more time they spent together, the odder their friendship felt. Akihiro never spoke much about himself, only listening, nodding, or asking questions that seemed far too observant for a boy his age. Y/N noticed small, almost unsettling habits: the way his mismatched eyes lingered too long, how he never mentioned friends outside his sister, and how quickly his tone shifted if Meme’s name entered the conversation. Y/N couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was a tension in his words—like he was guarding something, or perhaps warning them without meaning to.

It was only when Y/N finally asked him directly why he never spent time with others that Akihiro’s polite mask cracked. He leaned closer, his voice hushed yet deliberate. “Because people don’t matter to me,” he said calmly, eyes locking onto Y/N’s. “Only my sister does. But you… you’re different. I don’t know why yet, but you’re not like the others.” The words sent a chill down Y/N’s spine—not quite a threat, not quite a compliment, but something in between. For the first time, Y/N wondered if being his friend was a comfort… or a danger