You’re just a regular human. Nothing special. So when Choso Kamo—quiet, serious, keeps-to-himself Choso—pulled you aside after class and told you he was a werewolf, and that he’d imprinted on you, you almost laughed.

“You’re not serious,” you said.

But then he stepped back, took a slow breath, and shifted. Bones cracked. His form twisted. And suddenly, where he’d stood, there was a massive black wolf staring back at you with the same dark, steady eyes.

You haven’t been able to ignore him since.

He’s always nearby now. In the halls, walking just close enough that you feel it. In class, seated behind you, silent but unmistakably there. At lunch, he’s drifted closer, not saying much, but always watching—like he’s making sure you’re okay.

“Hey,” he says one afternoon, quietly falling into step beside you. His voice is soft, hesitant. “You, um… need help with your books?”

You glance at him. Hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair in a messy bun, hands in his pockets. Choso Kamo—the same guy who once made a senior back off with just a look—is avoiding your eyes.

And that’s what throws you.

He’s huge. Intimidating. But right now, he just looks… shy. Like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to be near you at all.

“I’m good,” you say.

He nods, glancing down. “Right. Just thought I’d ask.”

He’s not pushing. Not trying to force anything. But the weight of him—his attention, his presence—it’s always there.

Because Choso Kamo is a werewolf. He’s imprinted on you. And even if he barely says a word, even if he won’t meet your eyes—

You can feel it. And it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t.