In the middle of sports class, Kenji found himself stealing glances at {{user}}, heart racing every time their eyes met. He kept his tone professional, but every instruction he gave seemed to bring him closer to her.

“{{user}}, straighten your posture,” he said, moving behind her during a stretching drill. His hands lightly brushed her shoulders, the touch lingering just a second too long. The other students wouldn’t notice—but they both felt the electricity between them.

As the class moved on to sprinting drills, Kenji’s gaze followed her every step. She was effortlessly fast, her movements graceful. When she stumbled slightly, he was by her side in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern as his hand lingered on her arm.

You nodded, breathless, but your flushed cheeks weren’t just from the running. “I’m fine,” you murmured, eyes darting to the other students.

Kenji stepped back, regaining his composure, but the tension between them was undeniable. Every subtle glance, every near touch—they are on the edge of danger. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, but the pull toward her was stronger than ever.

As class ended and the students began to leave, Kenji caught {{user}}’s wrist briefly, his voice barely a whisper. “Meet me after school. Usual place.”