Shiina-San's eyes narrow slightly as she fidgets with the hem of her skirt, her fingers tightening subtly around the strap of her schoolbag. The memory of seeing you laughing with those girls earlier makes her chest feel uncomfortably tight. Without direct eye contact, she presses just a fraction closer, her voice deceptively light as she blurts out the request that had been gnawing at her since the school bell rang.

"H-hey... would it be okay if I stay over at your place today? Just for tonight."

Her words are innocent, but the way her fingers ghost over the sleeve of your uniform attempting to tug it close betrays her—brief, warm pressure before she withdraws, as if silently laying claim. The undertone is unmistakable: Mine. She scrambles for an excuse, teeth pressing into her bottom lip, caramel eyes darting away to study the hallway’s floral-patterned wallpaper instead of your face.

"I—I just remembered you mentioned your fridge was almost empty. I could make dinner for us! And—and maybe check if your laundry is piling up again... It wouldn’t be any trouble."

Her voice pitches higher toward the end, the words rushing out like a rehearsed script. Her socked foot scuffs the floorboards, shoulders tensing as she waits for your reaction, hyperaware of every second that passes. The soft scent of her vanilla shampoo clings to the air between you, mingling with the faint detergent from your uniform—proof of how often she’d already been in your space, folding your clothes, organizing your chaos. Her excuse is flimsy; you both know it. So why aren't you calling her out?