From the first day, curious chatters filled the classrooms and hallways, all of them about Sora. The man himself was at his desk, surrounded by students firing off questions about his family, his hobbies, his tastes, whatever information they could get, drawn in like bees to a honey pot.

Of course, curiosity didn’t fly past Mihoshi.

He, too, was star-struck by the extraordinarily handsome and charming man. Midnight dark hair, perfectly symmetrical face, angular jawline, straight nose. Mihoshi couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to Sora.

More often than he’d like to admit, Mihoshi found himself sneaking glances across the room instead of focusing on his book. During break times, he hung out by the windows to watch Sora play soccer in the field.

Mihoshi’s gaze wasn’t the only one on Sora, and he was well aware of it. Sora received countless numbers of love confessions, even from students of other classes.

Smart, athletic, friendly. Sora was the prince from a fairy tale that everyone desired.

He was someone Mihoshi had no business getting close to.

And Mihoshi accepted that.

He kept his distance, simply looking from afar. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and by the end of the second year, he could read Sora’s every subtle movement. From the way he tucked his shoulders, to the direction of his feet, to the slight strain of his eyebrows, nothing escaped Mihoshi’s gimlet eye.

On the surface, Sora displayed the perfect picture of an amicable and sociable person, loved by all, respected by even the teachers, placed on a pedestal as a good student. It was like a fantasy that couldn’t be real.

And Mihoshi noticed it.

Looking at Sora for a whole year revealed more than actually talking to him.

Because anyone could say words they didn’t mean, but no one could betray their natural body reaction.

The slight shift of weight to indicate an attacker’s movement, the split second before the arm strikes down, the many years Mihoshi trained in aikido made him able to discern physical traits and body language before the person themself could understand it.

Sora was lying.

Sora was hiding his feelings.

A mask so perfect it tricked the entire school into thinking Hokushin Sora was an angel.

Though Mihoshi never spoke to Sora, curiosity kept him wanting to know what it was Sora was so desperately hiding.

With that, their third and final year began.

The dreaded principal’s speech loomed on the first day of the new school year. Students chugged down coffee cans and energy drinks to power through the long drag, hoping not to get caught sleeping with their eyes open.

Mihoshi wasn’t confident he could succeed. So rather than suffering through this hell of boredom, he made the reckless decision to skip the opening ceremony entirely.

It was a mistake.

A mistake that led him to an unimaginable encounter.

“Kawase! Get back here!” The PE teacher yelled from across the field.

Mihoshi chanced a glance back before breaking into a full-speed run towards the back of the school. “Damn! Why’d it have to be the gorilla?!”

He ran like his life depended on it, wind rushing past his ears. Once he rounded the corner, all he needed to do was run straight ahead, jump over the wall, and he would be out of the school grounds. He gritted his teeth, but when he turned the corner, the sight that greeted him shot his eyes wide in utter surprise, his breath thrown out of his chest.

Sitting against the wall was Sora.

Away from the opening ceremony.

A cigarette between his lips.

Time seemed to stop as both of them made eye contact, bewildered at discovering and being discovered.

Mihoshi’s mouth hung open. A thousand questions zipped through his mind, but none of them were voiced out.

“Tch…” Sora scoffed as he got to his feet. The prince, the angel, the perfect student. All traces of the warm, gentle personality gone from his expression, as though none of them were real in the first place.

The person standing in front of Mihoshi was a stranger. Tall, imposing, a relaxed but threatening stance. Brows drawn together in displeasure, eyes narrowed, lips downturned. This was the secret hidden behind the perfect mask, this was the real Hokushin Sora.

“Kawase!”

The teacher’s shout snapped Mihoshi back to attention, and before his mind could catch up to his reflex, he darted forward and grabbed Sora by the wrist.

“Run!”

“What the—?!”

“You’ve put up an act for this long, you don’t wanna get caught now!”

Sora’s eyes widened.

Never once in their entire second year did Mihoshi talk to Sora, lest make physical contact. But here he was, holding onto Sora’s wrist in a deathly grip, dragging him along as they ran off. The walls at the back of the school only reached to about his shoulders, an easy enough height to overcome, so without missing a beat, Mihoshi kicked at the wall, using it as a footstep to jump right over. His slim body soared, his uniform rustled in the breeze, as though he was a bird taking flight.

Unrestrained.

Free.

Mihoshi landed on the other side, rolling on the grass. When he looked back, only did he realize that he had let go of Sora’s hand.

“Hey!” Mihoshi hushed his voice. “Hurry and jump over!”

“What the hell?!” Sora’s head poked from the other side of the wall. “How did you jump over this?! Why did you drag me?! What do you mean by getting caught?!”

“This isn’t the time for 20 questions! The PE teacher’s right around the corner! And you sure as hell do not want to get busted by him!”

Without waiting, Mihoshi leaned over the wall to help Sora up. By the time the PE teacher reached the back of the school, the two of them were running down the grassy slope, away from school.

Wind rushed past them, bringing the subtle scent of cherry blossoms.

They stopped next to a tree. Mihoshi doubled over to catch his breath, shooting a glance at Sora who was equally breathless. A few moments passed before they regained their composure.

Sora absent-mindedly reached for the cigarette on his lips, only to find it gone. He must have dropped it somewhere, hopefully not on school grounds.

“Sorry for dragging you.” Mihoshi chuckled. His short hair stuck to his face, framing his pink cheeks. “The teacher would have a heart attack seeing our role model student ditching the principal’s speech. And smoking.”

Sora’s eyebrow twitched. Now that his cover was blown, he didn’t bother to flash his polite smile anymore. Instead, a sarcastic smirk tugged his lips. “And what? You’re gonna blackmail me?”

Mihoshi blinked in surprise. “Why would I do that?”

This time, it was Sora who blinked in surprise.

“You must have a reason to pretend to be a good student. Or maybe you’re actually trying to be a good student, but acting like that everyday takes a toll on you. Or something like that.” Mihoshi straightened up, dusting off his clothes. “Whatever your reasons are, I’m not gonna tell anyone. Don’t worry.”

Sora narrowed his eyes. “And I’m just gonna trust you?”

Mihoshi shrugged. “Can’t do anything if you don’t trust me.”

For a few moments, Sora stayed silent; his intense glare bore into Mihoshi.

Finally, he muttered, “How did you figure it out?”

“Sorry, what?”

Sora cocked his head, and said louder, “How did you figure out I was only pretending? It was a flawless act.”

Almost immediately, Mihoshi stifled a laugh. “Flawless? Of course not.”

“What?”

Mihoshi’s grin curved up to his smiling eyes. “Maybe you’ve fooled everyone else, but not me. I can see it all on your face. Your eyebrows are always slightly scrunched, and your smile never reaches your eyes. You say one thing, but your body acts otherwise. You can’t really hide natural instincts.”

Sora’s incredulous expression forced another laughter from Mihoshi.

Unable to hide his annoyance, Sora sat on the grass, leaning against the tree. “Stop laughing,” he grumbled.

Mihoshi chuckled as he took a seat next to Sora. When his laughter finally subsided, he grinned broadly and said, “I don’t know your reasons, but I’ve always been curious about what's underneath that mask. Are you angry? Are you happy? I wanted to see your real expressions.”

Sora’s eyes narrowed at the statement, and Mihoshi chuckled at the obvious display of confusion and disbelief.

“Why are you interested?”

Mihoshi stared at Sora as though he just said something stupid. His cheeks turned up as he grinned. “Why wouldn’t I be? I know a million people have already told you this, but you’re goddamn handsome, ya know?”

A gentle breeze rifled through the grass field. And under the bright sunlight, Sora’s black hair glistened like a river of dark silk while Mihoshi’s brown hair curled like sand dunes of a vast desert, his shining gray eyes the mirage of an oasis.

That was their first meeting.

The first chance encounter that sealed their fate.

The first time they truly looked at each other.