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⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
SHOTO WAS, HONESTLY, RIDICULOUSLY CONCERNED. Since his eventful mess of a first day at UA (and that didn't include the actual classes themselves), Y/N had fled, disappearing into the netherworld.
For.
Two.
Months.
Not a single whisper came from his ghostly friend, and it gave him time to contemplate. He spent hours on end researching the anchor method, resting by swiping through his camera roll and looking at old and (relatively) new photos of Y/N.
Shoto learned nothing about what the Necromantic process truly entailed, but he did learn ... something else.
"Fuyumi," he asked his sister, waiting for her "hmm?" to respond from where she worked at the kitchen table, marking primary school homework books. "How do you know if you're in love?"
She almost banged her knee into the table in her rush to stand and sit with him on the couch, where he was watching some muted TV-show noncommittally.
"Why do you ask, Sho?"
He refused to give her a response, watching her smirk out of the corners of his bi-coloured eyes, which he rolled. "There's a girl. I don't know if I like her or not."
