Chapter 12: A New Look

The sun shone bright and warm over the school grounds as students filtered into the building. The typical buzz of chatter sounded through the halls, but today something seemed. off.

Haruto Kirigami strode through the gates, his hands jammed into the pockets of his slacks, his dark eyes gazing rigidly ahead. His normally sloppy hair, always spilling forward over his eyes, was now tidily trimmed—short, neat, and bordering his face in a way that left him nearly unrecognizable.

He didn't figure anyone to care. Hair, to him, was just hair. Not more than that.

But people did notice.

Whispers circulated around him as he walked to class.

"Wait. is that Kirigami?"

"He actually looks. kind of cool."

"I barely recognized him."

Haruto tuned them out, his eyes fixed ahead. He had anticipated reactions—he just didn't care.

Nasaki Kitta walked into the classroom a few minutes later, a juice box clutched in one hand. She opened the door, her smile on her lips—until she spotted him.

Her steps halted.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Haruto sat by the window, his face half-turned toward the sunlight. The short haircut made his sharp features more visible—the gentle curve of his jawline, the slight downward tilt of his eyes.

For a moment, Nasaki forgot how to breathe.

"Wait. What the heck?"

She blinked rapidly, feeling warmth rise to her cheeks.

Haruto glanced at her, his black eyes as unreadable as ever. "What?"

Nasaki jolted. "W-What?"

"You're staring."

"I-I'm not staring!" she snapped, quickly turning away to hide the blush creeping across her face.

Haruto's brow furrowed slightly, genuinely confused.

What was wrong with her?

Throughout the morning, Nasaki kept sneaking glances at him, her mind spinning.

Finally, during lunch break, she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Haruto," she called, leaning on his desk.

He looked up, his expression as indifferent as always. "Hm?"

Nasaki tugged on the hem of her blazer. "Why. why did you cut your hair?"

Haruto blinked, really perplexed by the inquiry.

He took a moment to shrug. "It got bigger. so I had to cut it."

Silence.

Nasaki's mouth opened—a fraction of an inch—before closing once more.

That was it?

Her face darkened further. She balled up her fists, attempting to quiet the blend of embarrassment and aggravation churning within her.

"You—You really don't care how different you look, do you?"

Haruto tilted his head. "Why would I?"

Nasaki puffed out her cheeks, quickly turning away.

"Tch. Idiot."

Haruto stared at her, completely confused.

Smaller portions of the day went by, but Nasaki couldn't get Haruto's new haircut out of her mind.

It wasn't the haircut itself—he was different.

More friendly.

More. handsome.

She made herself try to pretend that it didn't matter. Haruto was the same cold, obnoxious guy who hardly spoke to anyone.

And still, whenever she glanced at him, her heart skipped a beat—just barely.

The sun was setting when Nasaki was walking home with Haruto once more.

The silence between them was comfortable—familiar, even.

Eventually, she shattered it.

".It becomes you."

Haruto looked at her. "What does?"

"Your haircut."

He blinked in surprise.

For an instant, Nasaki thought she caught the slightest glimmer of red brush his ears—but it disappeared so fast that she wasn't even sure.

".Thanks."

Nasaki's heart lurched again.

She opened her mouth before she knew what she was doing, saying, "You should smile more often. It becomes you too."

Haruto's feet stopped moving in mid-step.

For an instant, everything around them just paused.

Then, without warning—

He smiled.

It was tiny. Hardly there. But it was genuine.

Nasaki's face flushed bright red, and she hastily turned away, attempting to suppress the grin that wanted to spread across her own face.

They walked a bit more in silence.

Just as they reached the corner where they normally split up, Haruto abruptly came to a halt.

"Nasaki."

She turned, taken aback by the fact that he had spoken her name.

".Thanks."

His voice was low—nearly vulnerable.

Nasaki's eyes went wide.

For a fleeting moment, she caught something in his eyes—a flash of pain behind his frozen mask.

But before she could say anything, Haruto had spun around.

Had she paid closer attention, she might have caught the single tear that rolled down his cheek.

Instead, she smiled.

"Are you crying?"

Haruto tensed.

"No."

Nasaki laughed. "Liar."

By the time they each reached their own street, Haruto's cold mask was firmly in position.

He put his hands into his pockets, pretending that nothing had occurred.

But something had altered—something tiny, something delicate.

Nasaki could sense it.

Even if Haruto pretended not to care…

He did.