#this year.. maybe

Your name had been in the same class as his.. Class 4-B

Kazuha’s heart quickened as he recalled seeing it, placed among his future classmates. After years of fleeting glances and quiet admiration, fate had placed you in the same class...

Was it a sign? Or perhaps just a cruel trick to test his resolve?

He sighed, stepping out of the shower and toweling off. He dressed with practiced efficiency, smoothing the crisp fabric of his uniform and tying his hair into its usual loose ponytail.

Downstairs, the aroma of grilled fish and steamed rice greeted him, and Kazuha’s stomach growled in appreciation.

Beidou was already seated at the table, leaning back in her chair with an air of casual confidence. “Finally decided to grace us with your presence, huh?” she teased, grinning as Kazuha slid into his seat.

“You’re up early,” Kazuha replied, helping himself to a serving of rice and miso soup.

“Had a shipment to oversee at dawn...” Beidou said, waving a hand. “But I wouldn’t want to miss seeing my kid off on his first day back.”

Kazuha’s lips curved into a faint smile. Beidou wasn’t one for traditional displays of affection, but her pride in him was evident.

As they ate, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “So, what’s the plan this year, Kazu? Flying under the radar like always?”

Kazuha paused, chopsticks hovering mid-air. “Something like that,” he said lightly, though his thoughts were anything but simple.

Beidou raised an eyebrow but didn’t push.

Instead, she smirked. “Well, don’t let ’em push you around. You’re a Kaedehara, after all! Go make a splash!!"

He chuckled softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After breakfast, Kazuha shouldered his bag and made his way to the door. Beidou followed, leaning against the frame as she watched him slip on his shoes.

“Good luck, kid,” she said, ruffling his hair as he straightened.

Kazuha glanced back, his eyes soft. “Thanks, Mom.”

The air was crisp and refreshing as Kazuha stepped outside, his satchel slung loosely over one shoulder. The cobblestone path that led to the heart of Inazuma City were now covered with the petals of the sakura trees. Each step he took stirred a few fallen petals into the air.

For most, this was simply another school day.

But for Kazuha, it felt like something more.

The idea of starting his final year was enough to make him reflect.. about everything.. but knowing that you would share his classroom this year had sent his emotions into overdrive.

The streets bustled with life as merchants opened their stalls and mothers ushered their children along. Kazuha weaved through the familiar sights.

As he passed by the riverbank, he couldn’t resist pausing for a moment. The gentle ripple of the water reflected the cherry blossoms overhead, and for the briefest of moments, Kazuha felt his heartbeat to steady.

But the memory of seeing your name on the class roster made his pulse quickened when he’d first spotted it. His lips quirked into a faint smile as he recalled.

[Y/N].

In Class 4-B.

With me.

It wasn’t as if you’d never noticed him before—you’d exchanged polite nods, once or twice—but this year felt different.

The proximity, the potential for interaction, and the possibility to finally close the distance between you—it was both exhilarating and terrifying...

As the school gates came into view, his stomach churned with nervousness. Students in their uniforms crowded the courtyard, their chatter blending into a harmony of excitement.

Kazuha slipped through the crowd, trying to mask his inner storm of emotions under his calm exterior. His destination was the bulletin board, where students gathered to confirm their class placements.

The board was covered in lists of names, neatly organized by class and year. He moved to the front, his heart beating just a little faster with each step. As he stood there, the names on the list blurred together for a moment—until he found it.

1. Kirara 2. Kuki Shinobu 3. Shikanoin Heizou .............

His gaze flickered from the first name to the last.

Kirara’s name made him smile a little, thinking of her playful, hardworking nature, always so full of energy.

Kuki Shinobu’s name, though, was a comfort—her sharp mind and calm demeanor were qualities Kazuha appreciated.

Then, of course, there was Shikanoin Heizou, with his tendency to be both mischievous yet quick-witted, he was the type of person who could get away with anything with just a wink and a smile.

But it was the last name that truly made his heart skip 7. Kaedehara Kazuha 8. [Your Name]

His fingers hovered over the list, still not quite believing it. There you were, placed right beside him in Class 4-B.

The sheer coincidence—could it be? Was this some sort of sign, or was it just luck?

He blinked, trying to steady his breath, but all the excitement and nerves seemed to rush into him at once.

In that moment, Kazuha allowed himself a soft, fleeting smile that no one else would notice, but it made his heart feel lighter.

He stepped back to let the next student through, slipping his hands into his pockets as he made his way toward the classroom, his heart warm with anticipation.

By the time Kazuha reached Class 4-B, the classroom was already beaming with excitement as students were catching up on their vacations, gossiping about the summer, and speculating on what this year would bring. Some were still settling into their seats, others chatting with familiar faces.

As Kazuha settled into his usual seat by the window, he couldn’t help but notice the gentle rustle of the curtains in the breeze. The room felt alive with promise...

His gaze drifted lazily toward the front of the classroom, and for the briefest moment, his mind wandered to other matters—the sea breeze, the distant rustle of leaves, and the soft hum of nature just outside the classroom walls.

It was a familiar feeling, like the world outside was calling him, reminding him that there were places beyond this room.

But today, everything felt heavy with anticipation, tethering him here.

His fingers lightly traced the edge of his desk as he waited for the bell to ring, the subtle pulse of his heartbeat was now an erratic drumbeat in his chest.

Finally, the door creaked open, and in walked Mr. Takahashi, the homeroom teacher.

"Good morning, Class 4-B!" Mr. Takahashi greeted, his voice steady and authoritative.

He was the.. sort of teacher who commanded attention without needing to raise his voice, a quiet confidence in his demeanor that immediately settled the room.

"Let’s get started."

As he walked toward the front, there was a palpable shift in the air.

The students, who had been chatting away moments ago, began to quiet down, eyes turning towards the front.

Kazuha felt the familiar stir of unease in his stomach, the sense that something was about to happen—something he couldn’t quite control.

Mr. Takahashi cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, "Before we get into the schedule for the year, there’s something we need to address. It's time for our class officer elections."

A collective groan echoed through the room, the sound of students who didn’t particularly care for responsibilities.

Then, there was a moment of silence as everyone waited for someone to take the initiative. After all, the elections was never something people eagerly volunteered for—it was just a formality, a necessary duty to get through the year.

Kazuha, ever the quiet observer, leaned back in his chair, his hands on his lap. He wasn’t particularly concerned about the election.

He’d been elected in other class officer roles in the past without much fuss.

It wasn’t also that he disliked it... it was simply that he preferred to lead quietly, from the background.

He had never been one to demand the spotlight.

"Alright, well then.." Mr. Takahashi continued, breaking Kazuha’s thoughts, "Let’s get started. I’ll open the floor for nominations. Who would like to volunteer for the position of class president?"

Silence.

Kazuha’s gaze shifted, taking in the faces of his classmates. No one seemed eager to take the lead, and the air was thick with reluctance.

His thoughts began to drift again, as they often did. He didn’t mind being the class president, but the position came with expectations.

Expectations that made him a little uneasy.

He wasn’t about to nominate himself too.

He wasn’t particularly sure that anyone else would nominate him, either. He had always been more of a quiet leader, stepping in when necessary but never pushing himself forward.

The minutes ticked by, the only sound in the room being the occasional rustle of a student shifting in their seat.

Then, unexpectedly, a voice pierced the silence.

"I nominate Kaedehara Kazuha!"

Kazuha’s eyes widened, his body stiffening in surprise. He turned toward the back of the room, where the voice had come from. Tomo—one of his closest friends—was grinning widely at him, hands raised in a mock salute.

"I SECOND THE NOTION!" another voice chimed in, Heizou's...

Kazuha blinked, his mind racing. He hadn’t anticipated this.

He hadn’t even thought to volunteer, much less be nominated so quickly. The idea of being class president was one thing, but having it thrust upon him in front of the whole class was... different.

He glanced around the room, his eyes scanning the faces of his classmates, most of whom were already looking toward him with varying degrees of curiosity.

A wave of heat crept up his face. He wasn’t entirely sure why his heart rate had picked up so suddenly. It was just an election, after all.

And yet, there was something about the way they were all looking at him now that felt... he wasn’t sure how to explain it.

Mr. Takahashi glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. "Well, it seems we have a nominee." He looked toward the class. "All in favor of Kaedehara Kazuha as class president, raise your hands!"

Kazuha didn’t move.

His gaze flicked from hand to hand as they shot up around the room—some with enthusiasm, others with casual indifference.

But then, in the middle of it all, he saw it.

Your hand.

You were raising your hand..

Kazuha’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to take a sharp breath to steady himself.

He hadn’t expected that.

The warmth of your gesture, the way your fingers moved so naturally in the air, felt like a soft reassurance.

He wasn’t sure why it made him feel like his entire world had shifted just a little.

When the votes were tallied, Mr. Takahashi nodded. "Looks like it’s unanimous! Kaedehara Kazuha, is now our new class president."

The class broke into applause, the sound echoing in his ears. Kazuha stood up, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t held leadership positions before—but this time, it felt different.

This time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more at play than just being the class president.

As the applause died down, Kazuha cleared his throat, raising his hands in an effort to calm the room. "Thank you," he said, his voice steady despite the churn of emotions inside him. "I’ll do my best to make this year run smoothly."

He tried not to let his nerves show, keeping his gaze steady as he surveyed the class.

It was only when his eyes caught yours again, the soft smile on your lips, that he felt a sense of calmness..

After the election concluded and the classroom settled into a familiar rhythm of idle chatter, Mr. Takahashi waved Kazuha over to the front desk. A neat pile of name cards lay waiting, along with a seating chart template.

“As our esteemed class president,” Mr. Takahashi began with a playful grin, “you get the honor of helping me decide everyone’s seating. and if you can avoid putting people with, uh, ‘history’ near each other, you’ll have my eternal gratitude."

“Understood, sir.” Kazuha chuckled lightly, though he felt an almost absurd level of responsibility. It wasn’t that assigning seats was difficult... it was the knowledge that where people sat might define their year.

Would friendships blossom? Would rivalries form? Would someone sit beside someone they secretly admired?

Would he...?

As he flipped through the cards, your name appeared.

It stood out.

Not because the ink was bolder or the letters more elegant, but because it carried a weight only he could see...

His fingers lingered on it for a heartbeat too long before he gently placed it down.

He began filling the chart, hoping to create a fair balance. The chatter of the classroom felt distant as he arranged friendships and personalities.

But when it came to assigning his own seat..

He faltered.

Kazuha closed his eyes briefly, a silent prayer forming.

"To any deity, archon, or celestial being who might hear me... let me sit with [Y/N]."

It was foolish. Selfish... even.

But the thought of being close to you—of seeing you not just as a distant admiration but as a part of his daily life—made his heart race in ways that scared him as much as they thrilled him.

Then, he carefully placed your name beside his own.

“Finished?” Mr. Takahashi asked, peering over Kazuha’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Kazuha replied, keeping his tone even despite the small scare Mr. Takahashi had given him.

“Great. Let’s see how long it takes for complaints to start rolling in,” the teacher joked, pinning the chart to the board. “Everyone, find your new seats!”

The classroom buzzed as students gathered around the chart. Kazuha remained at his desk, his expression calm though his fingers tapped a silent rhythm against his thigh.

He didn’t look up, not even when he heard footsteps approach.

“Looks like we’re seatmates,” you said, breaking the silence.

Kazuha glanced up, his breath catching for a split second. You stood beside him, your smile easy and unguarded, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yes,” he replied, though his voice wavered. He cleared his throat quickly, composing himself. “It seems so.”

You tilted your head slightly, amused by his formal tone. “Looking forward to the year, Kaedehara-san!"

His name on your lips felt like a melody. “A-As am I,” he stammered, cursing himself inwardly for the awkward response.

As you settled into your seat, Kazuha couldn’t help but steal a glance. Your attention had already shifted to arranging your supplies, but to him, the moment lingered like a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from.

Then... the memory resurfaced with startling clarity as Kazuha caught the faintest scent of cherry blossoms drifting through the open window.

Second Year Sports Day

The school’s sports day had arrived, and with it, the usual mix of excitement and energy that buzzed through the air.

While the rest of the school seemed to vibrate with uncontainable enthusiasm, Kazuha found himself sitting at the edge of the track, away from the heart of the festivities. His usual spot under the large sakura tree, a quiet refuge, stood at the farthest corner of the grounds.

The cool shade beneath the tree provided a temporary escape from the groups of students, their cheers and shouts muffled by the distance.

The only sounds Kazuha truly heard were the occasional rumbles of laughter and the rustling of the leaves overhead.

He opened his notebook, the familiar pages welcoming him like an old friend. He’d been trying to write a poem about spring, something inspired by the energy of the day...

Yet, as his pen hovered over the first line, he found himself distracted. His thoughts wandered, and the words refused to come.

His gaze drifted across the field, where students in brightly colored uniforms lined up for their respective events.

Some were stretching, some were chatting, and others were just as focused as he had hoped to be in his writing.

Yet, it wasn’t their energy that caught his attention.

It was you.

There you were, standing in the middle of your relay team, adjusting the ribbon on your uniform.

It wasn’t that you stood out because of any particularly noticeable trait.

You weren’t the loudest, nor were you drawing attention with over-the-top theatrics.

Instead, it was in the way you carried yourself.

Your eyes seemed to be focused on the track ahead, and your smile was soft yet determined. It was clear you were nervous, but there was an undeniable strength in the way you held your own.

As you adjusted the straps of your shoes, your hands moving in practiced motions, Kazuha felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. It was a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

He watched as you laughed at something your teammate said, your voice ringing clearly through the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t look away, why his thoughts were suddenly so jumbled. All he could do was watch as you leaned forward, preparing for the race to begin.

The whistle blew, sharp and clear, cutting through the air. The race started with a burst of energy. You took off down the track with the other runners, your legs pumping with determination, your face set with concentration.

You weren’t the fastest.

In fact, Kazuha knew that the fastest runners were already ahead, but there was something about the way you ran.

It wasn’t about speed.

It was about perseverance, about staying steady no matter the odds.

There was no frenzied urgency to your movements. You were calm—almost serene—despite the pressure of the race, despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the rhythm of your body and the goal ahead.

The baton exchange came, and Kazuha’s eyes followed every move. As you passed the baton, you didn’t falter.

You didn’t hesitate.

The way you handed off the baton was smooth, like you’d done it a thousand times. Your face, flushed with effort, broke into a brief smile as you cheered for your teammate who took off next.

It wasn’t a smile directed at anyone in particular. It was a natural, easy smile—a smile that felt effortless and genuine, as if you weren’t concerned with anything other than the moment itself.

Kazuha couldn’t explain it, but that smile...so simple

Made something stir deep within him...

His hand, still gripping the pen, trembled slightly.

He was so absorbed in watching you that he didn’t realize his notebook had slipped from his lap and fallen to the ground with a soft thud.

The noise startled him out of his daze, and for a brief moment, he blinked in confusion as he looked down at the notebook, now on the grass beside him.

He shook his head, trying to clear the sudden fog in his mind.

But the moment he lifted his gaze again,

There you were—laughing with your teammates, clearly exhausted but no less joyful...

And suddenly, it hit him.

He hadn’t noticed you before.

Not like this.

Not until now.

The noises of the crowd faded, the rustling of the leaves turned into a soft murmur.

The only thing that mattered was you—your laughter, your smile, your quiet strength as you cheered on your friends.

In the space of a single moment, his world had shifted.

For the first time, Kazuha felt something he couldn’t explain—a pull, an unshakable weight in his chest.

Now, you were all he could see.

In his reverie, he didn’t hear the bell ring or the shuffle of students around him.

He was lost in the memory, feeling that familiar warmth rise in his chest, the same warmth that had blossomed quietly within him since that day.

But then a soft voice broke through the haze of nostalgia, sharp and clear.

“Kaedehara-san?” The sound of your voice snapped him back to the present, and Kazuha blinked, looking up in mild surprise. You were standing by his desk, your gaze not quite meeting his but still focused on him with an expression that held something like concern, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“Kaedehara-san,” you repeated, your tone playful yet gently questioning. “Are you daydreaming...? You looked like you were a million miles away!"

Kazuha felt his heart leap in his chest.

The gentle teasing was enough to make him realize just how lost he’d been in his thoughts.

He quickly shook his head, trying to mask his embarrassment with a sheepish smile. “Ah, sorry, I—was just thinking.”

Your smile softened, though the hint of amusement still lingered. “I figured,” you said, tapping your fingers on his desk lightly. “You seemed so... far away.”

“Ah... I didn’t mean to seem distant,” he stammered, immediately trying to explain himself, but the words escaped him as quickly as they had arrived.

Instead, he offered a small, embarrassed laugh. “I guess I got a little lost in my head.” It was then that he realized he hadn’t even noticed when the class had finished, or how the others were packing up for lunch.

The room was quieter now, with only a few lingering conversations and the shuffle of bags and chairs. “Hmm, well, it’s good to know I wasn’t the only one spacing out,” you said with a small wink. “You’ve been pretty focused all morning. Do you need a break?”

Kazuha opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words.

His heart was still racing a little, not entirely from embarrassment, but from the realization that you were still here, still so close.

His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t quite explain, a feeling that had been growing steadily ever since he sat beside you today.

“I’m... I’m fine,” Kazuha managed, though his voice was quieter than he intended. He quickly gathered his things—his notebook, pen, and the scattered bits of paper that had somehow gotten mixed up throughout the morning—and began packing them into his bag.

But his thoughts wandered again, despite his best efforts to stay focused.

How could he tell you what had been on his mind for so long? How could he put into words the feelings that had been growing within him ever since that second year Sports Day?

He couldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t ready.

But as you turned to walk away, your voice lingered in the air. “Well, I’ll let you catch up on your thoughts then, Kaedehara-san. Don’t work yourself too hard, okay?”

Kazuha watched you go, his heart racing in his chest as the words you’d said echoed in his mind. "Don’t work yourself too hard."

How could he explain that it wasn’t work, but something much more complicated?

That it wasn’t just the class, or the presidency, or the seat arrangement that filled his thoughts..

It was you.

But he remained silent, and he let you walk away, his gaze lingering on the space where you had sat.

Later that evening, after the weight of the day had lifted,

Kazuha sat by his window, the sky had deepened into dusk, the stars flickering above like distant fires, and the air was cool.

It was quiet in his room, aside for the soft rustle of the wind and the occasional chirp of crickets in the night.

The silence gave him the space he needed to think, to process the emotions that were swirling within him... tangled and messy.

He had been thinking of you all day... how you had smiled at him when you called him out of his thoughts, how your voice had sounded when you’d asked if he was okay.

It had been casual.

But there was a depth to it that he couldn’t shake.

The truth was, Kazuha had known for a long time that his feelings for you had deepened.

Ever since that Sports Day in his second year, he had watched you from the shadows, silently admiring you from afar.

He had told himself, back then, that it was just a passing crush, something that would fade with time.

But it hadn’t.

It had only grown stronger, more persistent, like a plant planted deep in his heart that refused to wither.

And now, in his fourth year, here he was—seated beside you.

His heart pounding every time your voice brushed against his ear. He had told himself that the new school year would be the one where he finally found the courage to tell you.

But each time he thought about it, the fear gripped him all over again.

What if you didn’t feel the same? What if, by speaking his heart, he destroyed the quiet connection he had with you?

Kazuha closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back in his chair. “I have to tell them,” he whispered softly to the stars outside, as if seeking some cosmic answer. “This year, I have to.”

But as he sat there, a pang of longing tugged at his chest.

So close... yet so far.

You were right there, right beside him.

Yet the distance between his feelings and the courage to act on them felt like an unbridgeable gap.

His heart ached with the weight of it, knowing that despite being closer to you than ever before, he remained just as far from you in the ways that truly mattered...

But he knew that he couldn’t keep living in this quiet reverie forever.

Tomorrow would be another day. Another chance to take that first step, to move closer to you, to finally show the words that had been held back for so long.

With a soft sigh, Kazuha set his pen down and looked out at the stars.

They were distant, silent, and untouchable—but still, they shone brightly.

Just like his feelings for you.

taglist: @danhenglovebot

divider belongs to @/rookthornesartistry

kazuha fanart belongs to NOT FOUND !! (PLEASE LET ME KNOW.. I CANT FIND THE OG..)

As the bell rang, Mr. Takahashi strode into the room, his presence immediately silencing the class. “ALRIGHT!! LISTEN UP!” Mr. Takahashi said, his voice stern as he adjusted his glasses, “We assigned after-class cleanup partners for the term. Class President, the floor is yours”

Kazuha rose from his seat, holding a neatly organized list. He glanced at Heizou, who gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up.

Clearing his throat, Kazuha began. “The pairings were arranged to ensure fairness and balance,” he said, his tone measured. “If anyone has concerns, please don't hesitate to speak to me later.”

The class nodded in unison in unison, and Kazuha began calling out names, one by one. “Tomo and Shinobu,” Kazuha announced, his voice steady as always. Tomo grinned, flashing a thumbs-up in Shinobu’s direction, who simply nodded in acknowledgement. They somehow make a good team—Tomo’s carefree energy perfectly balanced by Shinobu’s sharp and efficient approach

“Kirara and Ayaka,” Kazuha continued, his voice a little louder than before. Kirara smiled brightly at Ayaka who offered her usual serene smile in return. Their pairing made perfect sense—both were hardworking and responsible in their own ways. Ayaka, with her composed nature, would surely complement Kirara’s live energy as well.

“Heizou and Yoimiya,” Kazuha called, the pair exchanging amused glances. “JACKPOT!” Heizou mused with a cheeky grin, while Yoimiya beamed back at him. The two had a dynamic brimming with mischievous energy. Their playful demeanor was contagious, drawing a few amused chuckles from the rest of the class as Kazuha prayed they wouldnt cause too much chaos..

A few more of the pairs were announced, his voice steady despite the slight edge of anticipation in the air. 

Finally, he paused.

His gaze lingering on the last pair of names on the list.

Kazuha’s voice softened just slightly, “myself and [Y/N].”

The room remained quiet, though Kazuha didn’t miss the curious glance Heizou shot him.

He adjusted the paper in his hands and moved on to the next order of business, trying to appear unaffected.

He glanced up briefly to see you—[Y/N]—your expression unchanged, as if this was simply another day...

"Alright, everyone, don’t forget to bring your cleaning supplies after school," Mr. Takahashi continued, dismissing the class with a wave of his hand. "See you all again in a few hours."

Then on cue, lunch bell chimed, the classroom erupted into chatter as students unpacked their lunches and settled into their routines.

Kazuha, however, sat in his usual corner by the window, quietly unwrapping his bento box. He preferred the quiet moments, savoring the peace that only the calm before class could provide.

As he lifted a pair of chopsticks to take his first bite, he glanced toward the door where you were exiting the classroom. Your bright presence always stood out to him...

Though you weren’t the loudest, nor the most flamboyant, something about you, made him watch you with a quiet, growing fascination.

“KAZUHAA!” Tomo, as usual, broke his concentration with his booming voice.

Kazuha turned, startled, to see Tomo sliding into the seat in front of him. “You ever think about how ridiculous cleanup duty is?

Kazuha smiled gently, not at all surprised by the sudden intrusion. “It’s about fostering responsibility and teamwork. Besides, the janitors have enough to manage without having to clean up after us.”

“Ah, the noble class president,” Tomo teased, grinning. “Always the voice of reason.”

“You make it sound like it’s a.. bad thing,” Kazuha replied with an amused tilt of his head.

Before the conversation could continue, Heizou appeared by Kazuha’s side, his signature smirk firmly in place as he leaned casually against the desk. “What’s this? Talking about cleaning up after yourselves!? So boring!!! Let me guess, Kazuha—more ‘responsibility and teamwork’ talk?”

Kazuha glanced up, his smile barely hiding the hint of exasperation. “Is there something you want, Heizou?”

Heizou grinned mischievously. “Oh, nothing major...! Just thought I’d drop by to check on our noble president. So, how’s it feel, Kazuha? You’re the big man on campus now!!”

Kazuha sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. “It’s not that gonna be that simple, Heizou...”

“Oh, I’m sure...” Heizou said, tapping his chin. “I bet you have all sorts of complicated feelings about your position. But hey, I think I get it. It’s hard to be the most popular guy in the class.”

Tomo chuckled, clearly enjoying the show. “Yeah, especially when you’re trying to act all modest.”

Kazuha looked at his friend, deadpan. “What are you getting at, exactly?”

Heizou crossed his arms, his smirk widening. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to remind you that being president comes with its perks, you know? Like… getting to pair yourself with someone specific for cleanup duuuutyyyyy...!!!”

Kazuha’s breath caught for a moment, though he quickly recovered. “I’m just following the seating arrangement. It’s purely coincidental.”

“Coincidental?” Heizou raised an eyebrow, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah and I'm Miko's brother.... You’re NOT fooling anyone, my friend. I know exactly what you’re up to!"

Tomo’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you talking about…?” He glanced between Kazuha and Heizou.

“Yes, EXACTLY!” Heizou said, winking at Kazuha before turning his attention back to Tomo. “I’ll bet my last Katsudon that Kazuha purposely paired himself with [Y/N[ for cleanup duty!!!”

Kazuha felt his cheeks warm at the teasing. He was trying to be subtle, to act like it was just a coincidence... but Heizou wasn’t making it easy.

“Stop being so obvious,” Heizou continued, clearly enjoying Kazuha’s discomfort.

“You’ve been mooning over them since second year. Everyone’s gonna catch on if you don’t stop acting all giddy around them.”

Kazuha straightened his back and cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sureeeee you don’t,” Heizou said, smirking knowingly. “But you know, there’s no harm in letting them know, right? It’s your last year, after all.”

Kazuha was quiet for a moment. He could feel the weight of Heizou’s words.

But he wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

“Maybe it’s better to just keep it to myself,” Kazuha replied softly, though his voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

Heizou shrugged, looking almost sympathetically at him. “Your call, Kazuha. Just don’t take too long. Time’s running out...”

Just then, Shinobu entered the conversation, her calm presence a contrast to the banter around her. “You two are getting too loud. Can you save the gossip for after school...?”

Heizou raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll keep my observations to myself.... For now.”

Tomo chuckled, clearly entertained by the exchange. “Alright, alright, but you gotta admit, Kazuha—you’re not fooling anyone with that ‘coincidental pairing’ act.”

Kazuha gave him a wry smile, shaking his head. “Let’s just focus on something else, shall we?”

In the afternoon the, the bell rang once more, now signaling the end of the day which was met with a collective groan from the class.

Everyone began to gather their things, packing up books and chatting excitedly about the free time ahead. However, as the noise died down, Mr. Takahashi’s voice rang out sharply.

“Alright, everyone, time for cleanup duty. Let’s not drag this out. Get to your assigned tasks and finish it quickly!1 Kazuha! [Y/N]!! You're on duty for today!”

Kazuha stood, gathering his notes and setting them aside. He had half expected this moment—he’d already seen his name paired with yours on the roster earlier.

The thought of spending this time together should have excited him, but instead, it only brought a swell of nervousness.

What would he even say? How would he bridge the gap between the polite, detached student he was and the person he wished he could be when he was around you?

Kazuha took a deep breath, glancing at you as you stood up from your desk. You caught his eye for a moment, offering a small, friendly smile that made his heart flutter. His response was almost automatic—a soft smile, perhaps a bit more earnest than usual.

The classroom emptied out quickly, leaving just the two of you...

It was quiet, save for the faint scraping of your broom on the floor and the soft rustling of papers as Kazuha shuffled through his notes...

It was the perfect opportunity for a conversation, one he had been hoping for ever since he found out he'd be paired with you for cleanup duty.

He had to make the most of it, right?

After all, this was his chance to finally talk to you, to maybe connect beyond the passing greetings and small interactions of the past year.

He glanced up at you, trying to appear casual. “So... um... you like art, right?”

You paused for a moment, your broom hanging mid-air as you blinked at him. “Yeah... I do,” you answered slowly, as if trying to piece together why he’d bring it up now.

Kazuha rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how awkward it sounded. “Right, I remember you mentioned it before. I think you said you like drawing too?”

You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, that’s right. People, emotions... capturing moments like that"

Kazuha smiled a little, more relaxed now that the conversation was going somewhere. But then, of course, his nerves kicked in again, and the words stumbled out before he could think about them.

“That’s cool,” he said, too quickly.

“I mean, uh... it must be, like, hard to capture a person’s, like, essence, you know?” He winced at his own words, wishing he could take them back. “Uh, not that... I mean, you must be good at it, right? Sorry... I’m rambling.”

You chuckled lightly, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay. I get what you mean. It’s hard to really capture the way someone is in a single moment, but... I guess that’s part of the fun, right? Trying to freeze time like that but then again I'm not that good at it though, its just a hobby to pass the time”

Kazuha nodded, but then quickly added, “Yeah, yeah, exactly. Like... it’s like... trying to trap a fleeting feeling... or something. Uh oh... poetry’s like that too. You know, trying to... capture the feeling of a moment with words.”

You tilted your head, surprised. “Oh, you write poetry?” you asked, genuinely interested.

“Uh, well, yeah,” Kazuha said, his words coming out more nervously now. “I do. It’s just... you know, little poems. Nothing serious. Mostly haikus. About nature and... other stuff.” He cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m not trying to make this all about me or anything.”

You smiled, trying to hide the amusement in your eyes. “I’m not complaining,” you said softly. “It’s interesting, actually. I didn’t know you wrote poems.”

Kazuha felt his heart skip a beat. This was the moment. He had a chance to share something, to let you into his world.

He straightened up, trying to sound more confident. “Well... it’s kind of a way to, you know, express myself. Like how you use your art. Maybe one day, if you want... I could show you one of my poems?”

You hesitated for a second, glancing over at him. “I’d like that,” you said, a genuine smile on your face.

Kazuha smiled back, but his cheeks flushed a little. “Yeah? Cool. Cool. I’ll, uh... I’ll definitely get one ready sometime.”

Silence lingered between you two for a brief moment as you both continued with your tasks. Kazuha tried not to think too much about it, but the conversation had felt a little... strange, hadn't it?

He had tried to sound casual, but now that he was thinking about it, he realized he had blurted a lot of things out without really knowing if any of it made sense.

But maybe that was just how conversations were.

At least you hadn’t looked too uncomfortable... right?

"So," he said after a moment, trying to keep things light, "do you... uh, do you like listening to music while you draw? Or is it one of those things where you need quiet?"

You blinked, clearly thrown off by the sudden change in subject. “I... I usually listen to music, yeah,” you said slowly, as if trying to figure out where this was going. “I think it helps me get in the zone, you know?”

“That’s cool,” Kazuha said quickly, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah, music helps with, like, the mood and stuff, right? I mean, for poetry, I sometimes listen to... um... instrumental music. Helps me focus.”

You smiled again, this time with a bit more warmth. “Yeah, same here. Something calming, I guess.”

Kazuha felt his heart race a little, and then he immediately regretted it. “Right, calming. Yeah. I guess, uh... well, do you have a favorite artist or band or something?”

You thought for a moment. “I guess I like a bit of everything...! Maybe a bit biased to Classic Rock.”

“Classic rock?” Kazuha repeated, a little too loudly. He flushed, realizing how excited he sounded. “I didn’t know that. I mean, I’ve listened to a little bit of it too. Like, The Beatles and stuff... You know, the classics.”

You laughed, a light, amused sound that made Kazuha smile, though he felt a little embarrassed at how eager he had sounded. “Yeah, The Beatles are definitely classic. There’s something about old music that feels... timeless, right?”

“Totally,” Kazuha agreed quickly. “Yeah, exactly. It’s... timeless. I, uh... I think I’d like to hear what you draw to one day, you know? If you’re up for it.”

You gave him a soft nod, your expression kind. “Sure. I can show you some stuff sometime!"

Kazuha’s heart fluttered at the thought, but he tried to play it cool. “Great. I’ll look forward to it.”

As the conversation started to wind down, Kazuha realized he was probably making this all more complicated than it needed to be.

But that was just how he was, wasn’t it? Always overthinking, trying to make everything perfect when maybe just being himself would be enough.

“Alright, I guess we’re done here,” he said, trying to sound casual as he finished gathering his things.

You nodded, stretching your arms out above your head. “Yeah, looks like it. Thanks for helping with the cleanup.”

“No problem,” Kazuha said, offering you a small smile. “It wasn’t too bad, actually.”

You smiled back, gathering your things. “I’ll see you later, Kazuha. It was... nice... talking.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, watching as you turned to leave. “It really was.”

As you left the room, Kazuha stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle around him. He glanced down at his pencil case, and his gaze landed on the pen—the very same pen you had lent him back in second year.

Kazuha picked up the pen, tracing the surface with his fingers. He had kept it all this time, tucked away, a quiet reminder of that fleeting, simple moment.

The pen had come to symbolize more than just a tool—it was a connection, a brief interaction that had lingered in his mind, growing quietly but steadily with every passing day.

He had never told anyone about it.

It seemed so small... so insignificant when spoken aloud.

But as Kazuha ran his thumb over the worn clip of the pen, he found himself lost in the memory.

It was the final stretch of the exam, and the tension in the room hung heavy in the air, the clock ticking down the minutes.

Kazuha sat near the back of the room, his brow furrowed in concentration, the edges of his paper nearly covered in neat, flowing script.

He had been moving quickly, the rhythm of his writing unbroken—until it wasn’t.

With a soft, almost imperceptible click, the pen in his hand sputtered and stopped, its once smooth ink flow now stilted and dry.

He tried again, pressing harder, but it was no use.

The familiar blue ink that had danced across the page was gone, leaving nothing but a dry, scratchy sound as his pen slid uselessly across the paper.

Kazuha’s heart sank into his chest.

He glanced around, momentarily desperate. No one seemed to notice, their focus fixed entirely on their own papers.

The classroom felt both enormous and stifling all at once, the minutes stretching out like an endless road ahead of him. He couldn’t bring himself to ask for a new pen. To disrupt the quiet, to draw attention to himself at such a moment.

But what choice did he have? He couldn’t just sit there, unable to finish.

He looked down at his paper, the inkless pen in his hand, and for a fleeting second, considered giving up. He had nearly reached the end, but his answers, though thorough, were incomplete. The thought of leaving them unfinished gnawed at him.

Then, a quiet voice cut through the stillness.

“Here.”

Kazuha blinked, startled. His gaze flickered up and across the desk to where you sat.

You were calm, your posture relaxed, the air around you as composed as ever. Your hand extended toward him, a pen sliding quietly across the surface of the desk.

Kazuha’s eyes widened slightly, his mind taking a moment to process the gesture.

Your face was focused on your own paper, your expression neutral, but there was a softness in your movement. It wasn’t loud or forceful, but it was kind.

He reached for the pen, his fingers brushing briefly against yours.

The sensation was electric, something he hadn’t expected, and yet it felt strangely... comforting.

His pulse quickened, and he looked up, only to find you already turning back to your own work, your focus unbroken, as if the exchange had been no more than a passing breeze.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely audible, more a breath than words.

You nodded slightly, a motion so small it almost went unnoticed.

It wasn’t the first time Kazuha had noticed you though.

The memory of the sports festival lingered in the back of his mind. It hadn’t been anything extraordinary—at least, not from your perspective.

You hadn’t been the star athlete, nor had you done anything that particularly drew attention.

But for some reason, in the midst of all the chaos, Kazuha had found his gaze lingering on you.

Maybe it was the way you had cheered on others with such sincerity, the way you had looked so immersed in the spirit of the event.

There was something about you—something quiet and unassuming, yet undeniably captivating—that had caught his attention.

It hadn’t been the loud moments or the flashy victories, but the subtle grace you carried with you. And somehow, without meaning to, you had imprinted yourself on his mind.

The rest of the exam passed in a haze, his hand moving mechanically across the paper as he worked through the final questions.

But his mind kept drifting back to the soft, almost fleeting touch of your fingers on the pen, the brief exchange that left him feeling oddly... unsettled.

The exam eventually ended, the sound of pens setting down and papers rustling filled the air, signaling the end of a long and tense period.

Kazuha stood slowly, the familiar sound of chairs scraping against the floor blending into the background, but his gaze was still fixed on the pen in his hand. The borrowed pen, still warm from the brief touch.

He wanted to return it.

He knew he should.

But when he looked toward you, you were already gathering your things.

The sound of your laughter drifted to his ears as you moved toward the door.

He stood there for a moment longer, watching you leave, the warmth from the pen still lingering in his fingers. He had barely even spoken to you before today—yet now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, something unspoken between the two of you, something that made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.

Kazuha shook his head, snapping back to the present. The memory of that moment, though seemingly insignificant at the time, had stayed with him all these months. Now, as he sat in the classroom, holding the pen once again, he realized something that had eluded him then.

It wasn’t the pen that mattered.

It was the quiet connection.

The small gesture that seemed to carry more weight than anything he had felt before.

A fleeting touch, a brief but meaningful exchange, and yet it had left a lasting impression on him.

Now, he understood it. The pen, that simple moment, was the beginning of something much more.

Kazuha smiled to himself, almost imperceptibly. He placed the pen down on his desk, his fingers still lingering on it for a moment longer, feeling that warmth return. There was something more to this—something worth exploring, worth understanding.

He remembered Heizou’s teasing words from earlier, his voice ringing in his mind: "Time is ticking, Kazuha."

Kazuha chuckled softly under his breath. He had a whole year. Time was on his side, and perhaps it was time for him to finally let his feelings burn, to stop running from them and start letting them take shape.

No rush. He had all the time he needed. Right?

TAGLIST: @danhenglovebot, @milkteeboba

He glanced to the side, where [Y/N]’s seat was empty.

They weren’t late—they never were.

They had a habit of arriving right before the bell rang, something Kazuha had noticed far too well, a detail Heizou never lets him forget

“KAZUHAAAA” Speaking of Heizou…

Heizou’s singsong voice interrupted his thoughts as he plopped down into the seat in front of him. “You look awfully serious for someone who’s composing haikus… instead of actual festival plans.”

Kazuha sighed, closing his notebook. “Well, good morning to you too, Heizou. I look serious because I am thinking of actual ideas for the meeting. Unlike some people…”

“Oh? But I DO take it seriously,” Heizou replied, crossing his arms dramatically. “So, are you planning to contribute to today’s meeting or just cause trouble like usual?” Kazuha asked, with a raise of his eyebrows. “Trouble? ME?? I'm offended Kazu...” Heizou grinned, pulling a small kit out of his bag. Inside were what looked like harmless props—fake bugs, disappearing ink, and something that suspiciously resembles a whoopee cushion. “You can’t be serious”

“But I am!” Heizou’s grin widened but before he can continue, the classroom door swung open, and Yoimiya bounced in with her energy immediately lighting up the space. “HEIZOUU!!” she called out, her voice brimming with excitement. “Ahh! And good morning, Kazuha!” “Good morning, Yoimiya,” Kazuha said politely. 

Her energy was almost overwhelming… this early in the day, he thought.

Yoimiya grabbed a chair, spun it around and sat on it. “Soooo what’s the topic today?? Something… festival-y? Oh and Heizou! Did you bring the stuff?”

Heizou held up the kid proudly. “Right here.”

“GREAT! We’ve got work to do.. Kazuha! You’re not gonna ban this idea right?? Imagine the laughs it’ll get!!”

Kazuha pinched the bridge of his nose. “As class president, I am obligated to encourage ideas that foster collaboration and creativity… not chaos.”

“Chaos is creativity.” Yoimiya quickly argued.

Before the conversation could escalate, Tomo and Shinobu entered the room together, their voices a calm counterpoint to Yoimiya’s. Shinobu carried a stack of papers neatly clipped together, her no-nonsense expressions contrasting sharply with Tomo’s easygoing smile.

“Kazuha.” Shinobu said with a curt nod. “Good morning. We’ll need to finalize the budget after today’s meeting.” “Of course,” Kazuha replied, returning her nod. “Morning!” Tomo chimed in, sliding into the seat beside Heizou. “What’s all this talk about chaos? Are we planning a festival or a disaster?” “Both.” Heizou and Yoimiya said in unison.

Shinobu sighed, shaking her head. “Let's just try to stay on task today, alright? Mr. Takahashi is expecting us to make actual progress.” “Don’t worry, Shinobu!” Tomo said, grinning. “We’ve got this under control… probably.” Kazuha exhaled, letting the chatter wash over him. It was shaping up to be a lively  day.

As the classroom began to fill with students, the usual buzz of the early morning was suddenly interrupted by a booming voice.. “YOO!!! IT’S FESTIVAL TIME, BABYY!!” 

The door swings open with dramatic force, revealing Itto’s beaming face. His energy is enough to make even the sleepiest students groan.

The surprising part wasn’t his grand entrance…

It was that he was on time.

“Itto… you’re actually here before the bell??” Yoimiya asked, voice tinged with disbelief

“Is it snowing.. Or did Itto actually make it to class on time!?” Heizou quipped, earning chuckles from the surrounding students. “Well, that's a surprise… ” murmurs Shinobu, glancing over at Tomo with a raised eyebrow. “Miracles do happen,” Tomo replies wryly, shaking his head with an amused chuckle as Itto’s boisterous laugh echoes around the room.

“Laugh all you want Heizou, but this year’s festival is gonna be epic thanks to yours truly!” Itto declared as he strides confidently inside the room, dramatically twirling before taking his seat.

Then the bell rings, everyone quickly quiets down, turning toward the front.

As if on cue, Mr. Takahashi walks in, his expression calm but purposeful. He raises his hand to silence the last few lingering whispers. “Alright, class, let’s get to work.”

His voice was steady and his manner was at a no-nonsense despite his usual friendly and joking disposition.  “This will be a critical week for our school festival preparations. Let's make sure we leave a lasting impression, not only on the school but on each other.” Kazuha, who has been sitting quietly at his desk, exchanges a short glance with [Y/N], who had just arrived and sat at their seat beside him. A brief flutter in his chest, he felt a rush of warmth but he’s quick to push the feeling down. 

He takes a breath and then nods at Mr. Takahashi, who motions for him to take the lead as he left the class, presumably to a meeting with other teachers.

With ease, Kazuha steps forward, standing in front of the class, his expression calm. The murmurs died down once again as he opened the discussion

“This year’s festival,” Kazuha begins, his tone steady but carrying an unmistakable earnestness, “is more than just a chance to impress. It’s an opportunity for us to build something that we can all be proud of—something that now only showcases our talents, but also our unity. Let's make it meaningful!”

The brainstorming session begins almost immediately, the room coming alive with enthusiasm. “I’ve got the perfect idea!” Yoimiya burst out, hand shooting up as she was practically bouncing in her seat. “A mystery maze with tons of surprises!”

Kazuha raised an eyebrow, tapping his pen. “What kind of surprises?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. Without missing a beat, Yoimiya whipped a water gun out of her bag and aimed it at Heizou. “Like this one!” she grinned, shooting a stream of water directly at him.

Heizou’s eyes widened just in time to feel the cold spray. “What the-” he sputtered, jumping out of his seat, shirt completely soaked. “Yoimiya you menace!” Heizou said, while wiping his face with a dramatic flair. 

The class erupted into laughter, some clutching their stomachs from the unexpected prank.

“You’ve got to be kidding me..” Heizou mutters, trying to wring out his shirt. “You traitor.”

Yoimiya simply grins wider, clearly fazed. “Hey, it's all in the name of fun! What better way to get people talking than a little mystery..! And some water…”

“I guess that’s one way to keep us on our toes..” Heizou said, shaking his head in amusement. “But don’t think I’ll let this slide! Me and my prank kit will be waiting for you to fall in our little trap..!” Yoimiya rolled her eyes while she giggled, clearly still pleased with herself. “See?? It’ll be filled with all kinds of surprises!!"

Kazuha sighed, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m not sure ‘surprise’ is the word I would use..” He raised his eyebrows, trying to keep a straight face as he glanced at Heizou, who was now half-drenched in water.

Though, Yoimiya’s enthusiasm doesn't seem to be the only thing that’s booming in the room..

Before anyone can add anything else, Itto, who had been sitting quietly with his arms crossed, suddenly slams his hand down on the desk with a loud

BANG!

..Drawing everyone’s attention.

“HOLDD ON A SECOND!!” Itto’s voice rang out.

“We NEED something way more INTENSE THAN THIS. Forget water balloons, I’m talking about a real test of strength!” He sits up straight, his usual grin wide as ever. “How about a strength competition? Arm-wrestling, boulder-lifting contests—let’s see who got the power to win!!”

Shinobu, who had been absentmindedly taking notes on the topic, finally looks up, her gaze sharp. “Uh, we’re supposed to be showcasing creativity, not strength.” she points out dryly, clearly not impressed by Itto’s suggestion. “If we’re doing a festival, there’s no need to make it into a gym session..”

But Itto’s determination remained undeterred, his grin only growing wider “Pfft, who said we can’t have both?” he counters, completely ignoring Shinobu’s criticism. “Strength and creativity go hand in hand! You gotta have the power to be creative!! Plus, I’m the one who’s gonna win anywaaays, so you guys better prepare!!” He flexes his muscles dramatically for emphasis,  earning a few chuckles from the class.

The playful banter catches Yoimiya’s attention, and she leans back in her chair, raising an eyebrow. “Really? A Strength competition?” She crosses her arms, her expression turning smug. “My mystery maze would get waaaaaaaaaaaay more attention than your ‘muscle festival’! People don’t come for boulders and arm-wrestling. They come for surprises!”

Itto snorts, clearly unamused. “A maze? Are you kidding? That's your idea of entertainment?” He leans back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as if to mock Yoimiya. “Naaaah, mine’s gonna be the main event! Everyone’s gonna want to see who’s the strongest!! Not who can navigate some over-complicated maze..”

Yoimiya rolls her eyes dramatically, flicking a lock of hair out of her face. “Strongest huh? Suuuuree, because everyone just loves seeing a bunch of sweaty guys trying to lift rocks..”

She gives him a  teasing, almost mocking smile. “Maybee, we’ll have a rock-lifting station for your fans after MY MAZE STEALS THE SHOW.”

Itto’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. “You’re really underestimating me… People love seeing power on display! You think they’ll care about running around a maze, getting wet for fun? Think again!”

The argument between Yoimiya and Itto soon escalates.. With both clearly unwilling to back down. The class watches with mixed expressions, some enjoying the back-and-forths, others just shaking their head..

Kazuha, who has been observing quietly, clears his throat, effectively cutting through the growing tension. “Alright.. Alright, both ideas do have merit, but let’s try to hear a few other suggestions before we start getting too carried away,” he suggests, his voice calm yet carrying an authoritative edge.

The room falls into a brief yet awkward silence as everyone looks at Kazuha then to someone who had been seated near the door..

Ayaka, who hadn’t been paying as much attention… until now. The sudden rise in eyes looking at her had caught her off guard. She blinks, her face flushing pink with surprise at the attention now on her.

“Oh! Uh..” she stammers, clearly embarrassed. “Maybe.. We could have a tea booth of sorts? A place to relax and refresh, something more peaceful in the middle of all the excitement?” Her voice soft as she tries to put forward her idea.

Shinobu perked up, nodding. “I like that idea. It’d be perfect for people who need a break from all the excitement. We could even decorate it with fairy lights or plants.”

Itto groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “BORINGG!!” A study corner at a festival?? Why not just hand out pillows and call it a nap room?

Before he could continue, Shinobu smacked the back of his head with a book “Be quiet, Itto. Not everyone’s looking for chaos and noise.”

Itto rubbed the back of his idea, pouting. “Fine… fine, but if most of the students end up sleeping, don't say I didn't warn you!”

The class erupted into laughter once more, now each voice vying to be heard over the other quickly turning the classroom into chaos.

And amid everything, Kazuha stood quietly, listening to the lively exchange as fingers absentmindedly traced his notebook. He watched as Yoimiya waved her water gun around, showering Heizou again in a sudden burst of water, Itto jumping in with the same usual booming voice to pitch his idea. Shinobu, exasperated but amused while Ayaka and Kirara watched everything quietly..

Kazuha’s mind wandered, he glanced in your direction. You were watching the others argue, a faint smile tugging at your lips as if the sherry absurdity of it all amused you.

Kazuha’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than intended, and a memory surfaced—a conversation you’d had not long ago. You had spoken about your hobby of doing art.

The memory of your enthusiasm stirred something in him, and before he could overthink, an idea formed.

He cleared his throat, hoping to catch the class’s attention. “What about an art gallery?“ He said, his voice steady but carrying just enough weight to momentarily cut through.

The room quieted as heads turned in his direction, and Kazuha felt his pulse quicken. Despite his serene exterior, he was suddenly aware of the weight of their gazes—and yours.

“We could create a space where students can showcase their creativity,” he continued, keeping his tone steady. “Paintings, photography, crafts, even poetry! It could be something that encourages people to express themselves“

The silence that followed his suggestion stretched uncomfortably long.

His idea hung in the air, seemingly unnoticed as some exchanged hesitant glances. Kazuha’s calm demeanor didn’t waver, but a faint warmth crept up his neck. His fingers resumed their slow tracing along the edge of his notebook, grounding him as his thoughts swirled.

Did I misread the room? Was it too plain? He wondered, stealing a glance in your direction. To his dismay, you were looking at him, your expression contemplative.

Embarrassed, Kazuha quickly looked away, his hand stilling as he forced himself to remain composed. 

Finally the silence broke—not with acknowledgement, but with Itto’s voice reigniting the earlier debate.

“No way a maze is better than my strength competition” Itto barked, through the awkward atmosphere with his usual brashness.

“Your competition doesn’t even make sense” Yoimiya shot back, “Who’s going to want to watch people lift boulders for fun??”

“Lots of people!! EVERYONE loves boulders!”

“Name one person,” Shinobu said, smacking the back of his head again. “Other than you”

Kazuha slid onto the teacher’s chair, feeling the heat of embarrassment fade into a cooler more.. Detached resignation.

He glanced at you again, hoping for some sign that you’d at least considered his suggestion. But your attention was now focused on the escalating argument, leaving him to sit in quiet frustration.

The tension in the room grew as Yoimiya and Itto continued bickering, Heizou joining in with his dry remarks about logistics..

The conversation devolved into a chaotic back-and-forth, and no one seemed willing—or able—to bring it back on track. Kazuha thought about trying to interject again, but his earlier embarrassment held him back.

He folded his hand in his lap, his expression calm but his mind racing with thoughts of how he could have worded his suggestion better—or perhaps even better… kept quiet.

The air felt heavy, the awkwardness palpable despite the lively banter. 

Just as Kazuha was about to resign himself to sitting quietly for the rest of the meeting, the classroom door opened, and Ayato stepped in.

His entrance was sudden yet smooth, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room as he took in the scene—Yoimiya waving her water gun, Itto gesturing wildly, and Shinobu pinching the bridge of her nose in visible frustration. 

Despite having graduated from the school a year ago, Ayato often returned to assist with events, particularly festival planning, given his reputation for strategic thinking and refined tastes. His role as a special consultant for the Student Council made his appearances occasional yet impactful

With an almost imperceptible smile, Ayato clapped his hands once, the sound cutting cleanly through the noise

“Alright everyone,” he said in a firm yet calm voice, immediately commanding attention. “Let’s settle down. I see we have no shortage of creative ideas, but we seem to be lacking a clear direction.”

As Ayato entered and spoke, Ayaka froze mid-thought, her eyes widening in surprise. “Br- Brother?!” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper while she clasped her hands nervously.

Ayato smiled warmly at his sister, his calm demeanor putting her slightly at ease. “I was passing by on my way to check on the festival’s overall progress.. And heard quite the commotion,” he said, glancing around the room. “It seem you really are all overflowing ideas” Ayaka nodded, trying to compose herself. “Yes, we’ve been discussing potential themes. There are so many wonderful ideas but..” Her gaze dropped to the floor, her voice faltering slightly. “It’s a bit hard to decide.” “Then perhaps I can help,” Ayato said, his sharp gaze softening as he looked at her. “Ayaka you mentioned a relaxing booth earlier didn’t you?” “Ah yes!” Ayaka quickly responded followed by a nod.

“And Kazuha proposed an art gallery…”  As Ayato continued speaking, his eyes swept over the room, pausing momentarily on Kazuha and then on [Y/N]. 

It was subtle, but the faintest hint of a knowing smile tugged at his lips. 

His voice maintained its usual composure as he turned back to Kazuha. “An art gallery paired with tea, don’t you think it has a certain elegance to it? A perfect opportunity to showcase talents while offering a serene atmosphere.”

Kazuha, ever perceptive, caught the fleeting glance between Ayato and [Y/N]. For just a split second, your eyes seemed to brighten at the suggestion, lips curling into a smile of approval.

That subtle change, so simple yet so radiant, sent an unexpected twinge through Kazuha’s chest.

He averted his face, his hand brushing a strand of fair from his face in an attempt to steady himself. 

Why does it bother me? He wondered silently. It’s just Ayato being his usual self.. Right?

But the way Ayato’s words seemed to resonate with [Y/N], and the faint amusement lingering in his expression, unsettled Kazuha in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“Indeed” Kazuha replied, his voice steady despite the slight tightness in his chest. “It’s an amazing idea, blending art and tea… I’m sure most of us would agree.” He glanced towards [Y/N], his tone carefully neutral, as if daring to confirm what he already suspected.

[Y/N] nodded enthusiastically.

Ayato chuckled softly, his gaze turning back to Kazuha, as if gauging his reaction. “I thought so. I’ve always believed the best ideas come from collaboration.”

He clasped his hands together. “And who better to bring the vision to life than talented individuals like you and [Y/N]?’

Kazuha’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly at Ayato’s choice of words.

The former Student Council President had an effortless charm, one that clearly captivated everyone in the room—including [Y/N]. 

Meanwhile, Ayaka’s blush deepened at her brother’s encouragement, though she was still too flustered to notice the subtle undercurrents in the room. “Ah- Thank you Ayato..” she managed to say.

Ayato chuckled once more. “It's nothing, Ayaka. After all, a Kamisato should always strive to enrich the lives of others! I’m sure you’ll make it a memorable experience

Meanwhile, at the back of the room, the banter continued unabated.

“Though.. It’s still a mystery why you think boulder-lifting is creative, Itto.” Yoimiya teased with a sly grin. “What’s next? A rock stacking competition? An Okinabuto wrestling competition? Though I will admit, it’d be hilarious to watch you drop a rock on your foot.” “Hey! Don't diss the rocks nor my bugs!!” Itto shot back, puffing his chest out. “Plus, you’d be surprised how much skill it takes to stack boulders.” Heizou leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “It’s not really… the boulders we’re questing. It’s about your ability to stack anything without knocking it over.” “OH HOHO, that’s RICH coming from the guy who can’t even dodge a water gun!” Itto retorted, pointing at Heizou.

Shinobu, clearly at her wit’s end, sighed deeply and crossed her arms. “You’re all impossible.. Yoimiya, dont even think about shooting that things again.”

She then gave Itto a sharp look. “And you—stop encouraging her.” Yoimiya held up the water gun innocently and spun it in her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Me? I would neveeeer…” “Oh not again..” Heizou muttered, sliding his chair further back as if anticipating another spray.

Itto laughed boisterously to which Shinobu shot back, “Close your mouth Itto.. not everyone has your brain-to-brawn ratio.” “Brain-to-brawn ratio..?? Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” Itto scratched his head, visibly confused.

“It’s definitely an insult,” Heizou chimed smugly from… across the room.. Far, far away from Yoimiya.. Earning an exaggerated gasp from Itto.

As the laughter and teasing continued in the room, Ayato stepped closer to Kazuha, his tone low enough to not be overheard. “You should be careful, Kazuha,” he said with a teasing lilt. “If you don’t make your move soon, someone else might.” Kazuha turned towards Ayato sharply, his eyes betraying his usual composed expression. A flicker of surprise—and just a hint of jealousy. “I appreciate your advice Ayato,” he replied, his voice low but firm. “But some things are worth waiting for.” Ayato simply smiled, patting Kazuha’s shoulder before stepping back to address the class once more.

“Now then, let’s channel this lively energy into making the festival unforgettable, shall we?”

kazuha fanart made by @/Dilyakum_ on twt

TAGLIST: @danhenglovebot, @milkteeboba, @3amstoryreader