𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝.
❝ in which you piece together the fragments of your past...
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"Y/N."
You glanced up from your laptop for a brief second, just as a small carton of banana milk landed on the cluttered desk assigned to you by the Aoba Johsai newsletter committee. You mumbled a fleeting 'thanks', before resuming your task, anxiously typing out the last paragraph on this week's Regional Mathematics Championships where a fellow student was crowned 2nd place.
11:45pm.
It was due for submission at midnight. You weren't a last minute person, and you've had your fair share of editorial tasks despite only having only joined the committee this year as a rookie. But being short on volunteers had inevitably landed you the grueling chore of churning out an article three hours before the weekly newsletter had to be finalised. At least your managing editor apologised profusely and promised you next week off.
"You weren't at practice today."
"I'm sorry," You sighed, eyes remaining trained on the screen, "Something came up last minute."
His hands moved as he hummed in acknowledgement, freeing the plastic straw from the side of the carton and poking it into the box. He pushed it towards you. Your left hand absentmindedly reached for it, taking a dainty sip. You almost melted as the flavour coated your tongue, realising just how hungry you actually were. Perhaps skipping dinner wasn't the wisest idea.
