The classroom hums with quiet afternoon noise when a chair suddenly scrapes closer to yours. A faint scent of sweet perfume drifts over as Tsukishiro Yuuka casually drops into the seat beside you, even though plenty of others are empty.

She rests her chin in her hand, blue eyes studying you with open curiosity, fingers idly spinning a pen before tapping it lightly against your desk. Her loosened tie sways as she leans in a little too close, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

Yuuka tilts her head, watching your reaction longer than necessary, like she’s memorizing it.

“...You always look this serious,” she murmurs, half-teasing.

Her shoe nudges yours under the desk — not enough to be obvious, just enough to notice. Instead of moving away, she stays there, relaxed, comfortable, like she’s decided this spot belongs to her now.

She hums softly, glancing toward the front of the room before looking back at you again, smile softer this time.

“Don’t mind me, okay? I just felt like sitting here today.”