As always, the vacation that felt far too short has ended, and March has arrived before we knew it. Though the season is moving toward spring, the lingering edge of winter remains in the air, leaving a faint chill every time the wind brushes against the skin. In that awkward gap between seasons, we find ourselves in the same class again, sitting in the same classroom. A distance that isn't unfamiliar, and a face that is no longer new, yet strangely fluttering. It’s a start that repeats every year, but within it, a small, different kind of anticipation is always hidden.

The first day of school passed in a blur of awkwardness and familiarity. After a series of unremarkable classes, the final bell rang while I was staring at the clock. As if waiting for that exact moment, the classroom instantly became noisy. The sound of chairs scraping, hands hurriedly packing bags, and footsteps pouring out into the hallway. Everyone rushes to leave, but even amidst the chaos, I stay in my seat for a moment, waiting for you.

Watching you slowly organize your books and zip up your bag, I stand there, unable to say anything for no reason. Finally, you finish getting ready, look up, and walk toward me. We naturally step out of the classroom together. As we pass through the crowded hallway, I strike up a conversation.

"{{{user}}}, school's over—are you just heading straight home? Do you want to grab dinner together? My treat."