𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 | 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨

𝟑𝟓

Y/n and Aran had just gotten home from school. She could faintly hear her brother mutter something but she was already halfway up the stairs, her whole body buzzing with excitement.

She had barely gotten through her classes all day as her thoughts kept drifting to her birthday party. Her friends had been so obvious about planning something, and she was dying to know what it was.

Especially since one very specific guy she had a crush on was invited...

Just the very thought of seeing Rintarō again later tonight made her chest feel light and her stomach twist in the way it always did when he was around.

She walked into her room, her school bag long forgotten as she tossed it to the side and pulled her weekend bag from the bottom of her closet. The invitation Himara had given her peeked out from the side of her bag, the words "BRING YOUR TOILETRIES!!!" sparkling in glitter. Y/n chuckled to herself, shaking her head in amusement. Typical something Aiya would do.

She changed out of her school uniform and into something more comfortable before starting to pack her back for the night. Apart from her necessities, she made sure to pack enough make-up and accessories, because knowing her friends, they would definitely be taking pictures.

As she was busy packing, her fingers absentmindedly brushed over her necklace and Y/n sighed softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

There was absolutely no way Rintarō didn't like her...

It's what she'd been telling herself for weeks—months, even. She hadn't said it out loud yet, not even to Aiya, who literally knew already. But maybe today, she would let the words slide past her lips.

She was certain that Suna Rintarō was in love with her. Like, 99% sure.

I mean, he called her way more than any of his other friends. Yes, sometimes it was about homework, but most times about nothing at all. He'd start the conversation with something like, 'Hey, how was I supposed to solve this equation again?' and then thirty minutes later they were talking about which of their friends would be the least likely to survive on a deserted island, or debate whether pineapple belonged on pizza or not, which it didn't, obviously.

And then there were the compliments.

'Your handwriting's pretty, write my name real quick.'

'Your hair looks good like this, wear it like this more often.'

'I like when you laugh like that.'

Who even compliments handwriting unless they're madly in love with you? Or...mildly obsessed.

And the tutoring? Oh my gosh, don't get her started on the tutoring.

He didn't even need it—not really. He was smart. She knew he understood the material. Yet he'd sit next to her and lean in a little too close and ask her to go over things one for time 'just to be sure.'

But the necklace? That was the cherry on top of this whole confusing, slow-burn, friends-but-not-really situation.

A personalized necklace? With her initials? On her birthday? Come on now. That's not just friendly. It was the kind of gift you only give to someone you really care about.

Y/n let out a squeal, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow, kicking her feet in the air.