The cherry blossoms fluttered like pink snow as Kaito Arashi sprinted through the school gates, his tie askew and his breath ragged. He skidded to a halt just as the morning bell's echo faded, grinning triumphantly. Made it—again.
"Late. Again."
The voice was sharp, colder than the April breeze. Kaito turned to find Aoi Takahashi blocking his path, her arms crossed and her slate-gray eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses. The Class 2-B representative held her clipboard like a weapon, her perfectly styled chestnut hair catching the sunlight.
Kaito shrugged, smoothing his unruly black hair. "The bell just rang. Technically, I'm on time."
"Technically," Aoi said, her pen tapping impatiently, "you're supposed to be in your seat before the bell. This is your third tardy this week."
"Wow, you're keeping count? I'm flattered."
A flush crept up her neck. "I'm not—! It's my job to enforce rules. Unlike some people, I take my duties seriously." She scribbled his name on her clipboard with unnecessary force.
Kaito leaned in, smirking. "You know, if you smiled more, people might actually like you."
Aoi recoiled as if struck. "I don't need your approval," she snapped, though her voice wavered. "Now get to class before I report you to the faculty!"
Laughing, Kaito saluted and sauntered past her, ignoring the curious stares of students lingering in the courtyard. He slid into his seat just as their homeroom teacher began roll call.
"Cutting it close, Arashi," whispered Hiro, his laid-back desk neighbor and occasional partner in cafeteria mischief.
"Blame the traffic lights," Kaito muttered, slumping in his chair. His gaze drifted to the front of the room, where Aoi stood primly recapping a marker. She'd already erased the previous day's notes from the board, her movements brisk and precise.
What a robot, he thought. Yet, when a first-year tripped in the hallway, Aoi was the first to dart out and help, her stern mask slipping into something softer as she handed the girl her dropped textbooks.
"Arashi!" the teacher barked. "Eyes forward."
Kaito jerked upright, heat prickling his ears. Across the room, Aoi shot him a withering glare. He rolled his eyes but couldn't shake the image of her fleeting kindness—or the way her cheeks had pinkened when he'd teased her.
As the lesson droned on, petals drifted past the classroom window, and Kaito wondered why his pulse still hadn't slowed.