The next week passed in a strange kind of rhythm.
Leo and Kieran became an unlikely fixture around campus—seen side by side in the library, exchanging dry comments in class, and occasionally locking eyes in a way that sparked whispers. But neither of them seemed to care. Not openly.
The project was coming along smoothly. Too smoothly.
"Hey, Leo!" a voice called as he walked toward his locker after gym. It was Akira, captain of the school's Martial Arts Club. "You're fast on your feet. Ever consider joining us?"
Leo blinked. "Uh… not really?"
Akira grinned. "Come on, we need someone for the interschool exhibition next month. Think about it."
Leo started to turn him down—he didn't have time for extracurriculars, not with school, work, and the storm of drama that was Kieran Hoshino.
But then he caught sight of Kieran at the end of the hallway.
Arms folded.
Watching.
Something in Leo straightened. "Alright. I'll try it out."
---
The club tryout was chaos.
Sparring mats, sweat, and shouts filled the gym. Leo threw himself into the drills. He wasn't perfect, but he was quick. Determined. And most importantly—he didn't back down.
Kieran showed up halfway through, leaning against the bleachers like he had better places to be but stayed anyway.
After a short match against one of the second-years, Leo collapsed near the edge of the mat, panting.
"You fight like someone with something to prove," Kieran said, tossing him a towel.
"Maybe I do."
Kieran sat beside him. "You're reckless."
Leo glanced at him, half-smiling. "And you're always watching."
Silence fell between them—but it wasn't uncomfortable.
It was magnetic.
Dangerous.
Unspoken.