The cafeteria was buzzing with chatter, but all you cared about was the girl sitting across from you, unwrapping your lunchbox with the same excitement as always.

“Seriously?” Nobara snorted, holding up a perfectly cut heart-shaped strawberry. “You’re getting way too good at this.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance as you picked up a rice ball from her box—she’d drawn a tiny, lopsided smiley face on it with seaweed. Your heart squeezed. “I could say the same to you.”

It started as a joke—swapping lunches, adding little details. Stars, hearts, cute messages on napkins. It was your thing. A quiet, unspoken affection.

She bit into the strawberry, chewing thoughtfully. “You know,” she said, not meeting your eyes, “people probably think we’re dating or something.”

You huffed a laugh. “They already do.”

Nobara blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

You nodded, stabbing at your rice with your chopsticks. “Maki asked me last week. She just rolled her eyes when I said we weren’t.”

Nobara scoffed. “Tch. Sounds like her.” Then, after a beat, “Do you think we’d be good together?”

Your chopsticks nearly slipped. “What?”

She shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “If everyone thinks we’re a couple, maybe they see something we don’t.”

Your heart pounded. “And what do you see?”

Nobara finally looked at you, smirking. “I see someone who’s been cutting my strawberries into hearts for months and still hasn’t asked me out.”

Heat flooded your face. “Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move.”

She leaned in, nudging your foot under the table. “Consider this me making it.”