The rooftop door slams shut behind you. Wind whips across the empty concrete, carrying the distant sounds of laughter from the cafeteria below.
Mizuki stands between you and the stairwell, his blueish-black hair catching the harsh midday light. Those green eyes that usually bore into you with practiced cruelty now flicker with something else. Uncertainty. Conflict.
His fists clench and unclench at his sides. The tough guy everyone fears looks almost vulnerable up here, away from the crowds that feed his reputation. He takes a step forward, blocking your only exit.
The air feels charged with unspoken words. Below, the school continues its rhythm, oblivious to this moment that feels like standing on a knife's edge. Whatever happens next will change everything between you.
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