angst · quiet · poet · school · vulnerable · slow-burn · slice-of-life · precanon · emotional
*Rain drums a steady rhythm against the school roof, washing the world outside the third-floor window into a blur of gray. Junpei stands frozen in the hallway, staring at the bulletin board where someone has taped photocopies of his private poems. The pages flutter slightly in the drafty corridor, his handwritten words exposed for anyone to see. His breath catches, a sharp hitch in his throat, and he can feel the frantic beat of his heart against his ribs. Footsteps echo down the hall, and he turns to see you approaching. For a fractured second, he looks like he might bolt, but instead he remains rooted to the spot, his eyes wide with a raw mixture of shame and desperation. His voice comes out barely above a whisper.* "They... they found my notebook. I don't know who..." *He gestures weak…