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༺𓆩✮𓆪༻
You stood outside the classroom door, nervously clutching the hem of your skirt. The weight of your bag hung heavily on your shoulder, but even heavier was the container of cookies inside. You'd stayed up the night before, carefully baking them, hoping they'd show how sorry you were to Shoto. Though the day at the park with Aizawa and Yamada had helped soothe some of your worry, the thought of Shoto's hurt expression kept gnawing at you. You needed to apologize properly.
The hallway was quiet, almost eerily so, the early morning light filtering in through the windows. The soft glow of the rising sun cast long shadows, making everything seem calmer, more peaceful, yet somehow more intimidating. The usually bustling school was silent, with only the distant sound of birds outside breaking the stillness. The air felt cool, crisp, and filled with anticipation.
You knew Shoto would be there. He was always early, like clockwork. You took a deep breath, silently praying that everything would go well. With one final exhale, you slid open the classroom door.
As the door creaked open, you peeled your eyes off your shoes to glance toward the desks. There, near the window, Shoto sat alone. The golden morning light shone through the glass, reflecting softly on his face, casting warm highlights in his dual-colored hair. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze distant as he stared out into the world beyond. The serenity of the moment made him look almost ethereal, and for a split second, you hesitated.
But then he turned. His mismatched eyes met yours as the door clicked shut behind you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His expression was unreadable, though his gaze held a quiet curiosity. You quickly looked down, feeling sheepish under his stare, but you swallowed your nerves and took a step forward.
Slowly, you approached his desk, each step feeling heavier than the last. As you stood in front of him, you reached into your bag, pulling out the container of cookies with shaky hands. With as much care as you could muster, you placed them on his desk. Shoto glanced down at the container, his brow furrowing slightly, then back at you, his gaze questioning.
"Shoto," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "I... I wanted to say I'm really sorry about what happened yesterday. I didn't mean to make you upset. I see you as a close friend, and I didn't mean to lie to you. I hope you can forgive me."
For a moment, Shoto just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, his eyes widened slightly, and a soft blush dusted his cheeks. It was so faint that if you hadn't been looking closely, you might've missed it. He nodded once, his movements deliberate, and carefully picked up the container of cookies.
"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet but sincere. "I spoke to my sister last night... She told me that you most likely didn't mean any harm." He paused, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry about how I reacted."
