The days after Shinoa visited his home felt… different.
But not in the way Kaiser had expected.
She didn't treat him like he was fragile.
Didn't look at him with pity.
Didn't walk on eggshells or pretend she understood everything.
Instead, she treated him the same.
Offered something rarer than comfort—normalcy.
They still met under the cherry tree before class. Still sat beside each other at lunch. Still trained together after hours.
But something had changed.
There was a quiet understanding now. One built on truth, not whispers.
On honesty, not curiosity.
Friday arrived with unexpected energy.
Instead of drills and assignments, the student council had planned a school-wide "Game Day"—a break from the grind. A rare chance for students to let loose, laugh, and compete.
Kaiser hadn't planned to join.
He stood off to the side, backpack slung over one shoulder, watching as students scattered across courts and fields.
Then he saw her.
Shinoa, standing in the middle of the badminton court, racket in hand, eyes locked on his. That familiar cheeky grin on her face.
"You coming, partner?" she called out.
He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think it was my thing."
She spun the racket with a playful flourish. "It's not about the game. It's about the fun."
Fun.
That word felt… foreign. Out of place in his vocabulary. But the way she said it—like it was simple, like it was okay to want it—made it feel possible.
He let out a breath. Dropped his bag. And walked over.
The other students watched with thinly disguised awe as he stepped onto the court beside her.
Kaiser—the cold, untouchable one.
Shinoa—the fearless transfer student who somehow melted past his walls like they were made of glass.
The game started light. Easy volleys. Friendly smirks.
But it didn't stay that way for long.
Their competitive sides flared, and soon it was smashes, dodges, quick footwork, breathless challenges. Laughter spilled out between them, messy and real.
It wasn't about who won.
It was about the spark—the joy—Kaiser hadn't felt in years.
When the match ended, both of them collapsed onto the grass, panting, flushed, still laughing.
"You're not bad," he said, wiping his brow.
Shinoa nudged his shoulder. "You're not as scary as you pretend to be."
He turned to look at her.
Really look.
And in that moment, with the sun slipping behind the gym roof and her smile softening into something quieter…
He felt it.
A flicker of something dangerous.
Something warm.
Something like love.