The golden light of a new week poured through the classroom windows, scattering across the rows of desks like fragments of memory. It smelled faintly of chalk, morning dew, and a touch of nostalgia, the kind that creeps in after a few days away.
Renji leaned back in his seat, one arm hanging lazily off the backrest, his gaze drifting to the board where Rika was scribbling today's lesson plan.
Her hair was tied higher than usual, a loose strand brushing her cheek as she wrote. The small, habitual movements, the tuck of hair behind her ear, the tap of chalk against the tray, stirred something calm and grounding in him.
It had been only a few days since the exhibition, yet it felt like weeks since he'd last been in this rhythm: quiet mornings, Rika's soft perfume lingering in the air, and the subtle chaos of teenagers pretending to pay attention.
Rika turned slightly, her gaze catching his. A knowing glint flashed through her eyes.
