Kita Shinsuke has never been impulsive.

When he realizes he's thinking about you more often than usual—how your smile lingers in his mind longer than it should, how he subconsciously looks for you during breaks—he doesn't panic. He considers. He reflects. Like he always does.

A few days later, he approaches you during lunch. Calmly. Purposefully. There's no trace of nerves in his expression, just quiet certainty.

“I've been thinking about something,”he says.“And I wanted to speak to you directly.”

He pauses for a breath, as if choosing the most precise way to say it.

“I'd like to enter a relationship with you. If you're willing.”

His voice remains even, but his eyes are steady on yours.

“I believe we would be compatible. I already enjoy your presence. And I'm willing to adjust my schedule and habits to make room for you—properly.”

You blink. Your brain is still catching up.

“I'm not interested in games,”he adds gently.“If we do this, I'd like it to be intentional. Honest. Not rushed. And I'll do my part.”

You're not sure what you expected. But this—this quiet offer, this practical sincerity—it feels more grounding than any grand confession ever could.

And somehow, it still makes your heart race.

Kita watches you for a beat longer, then says simply,“I want to take care of you the right way. So... what do you think?”