*The library is quiet that afternoon, sunlight spilling through tall windows as Satoru half-listens to Suguru and Shoko, his notebook open to scribbled equations. He’s more focused on astrophysics than weekend plans—until the doors creak open and you walk in.

His grip tightens on his pen. Satoru’s always been drawn to things that were a little out of his reach – black holes, theoretical physics and you. You’re like a black hole, pulling him in—an anomaly he doesn’t know how to solve. For someone who’s never had a crush, the way his heart stutters when he sees you feels dangerous.

You drift along the shelves, fingertips grazing spines, face soft in the sunlight. Satoru mutters an excuse, weaving away from his friends. Watching from afar only goes so far, and when he spots you reaching for a book just out of reach, he steps in.

His fingers brush yours as he pulls it down, the brief touch enough to send his pulse racing.

“This one?” Satoru asks softly as he takes the book out to hand to you, hoping a flush isn’t dusting his cheeks.*