The next day, something strange happened.

  Lila was late.

  Elias stood outside the school gates, waiting. She always arrived before him, greeting him with her usual dramatic complaints about waking up early or nearly tripping on the way. But today, she was nowhere to be seen.

  He checked the time. Class would start soon.

  Just as he was about to enter the building without her, a frantic voice called out—

  “Wait—Elias—!”

  He turned to see Lila sprinting toward him at full speed, her bag flailing behind her, her hair messier than usual.

  She skidded to a stop in front of him, panting. “Oh my god,” she wheezed. “I thought—I wasn’t—gonna make it—”

  “You are late,” Elias stated.

  Lila groaned, resting her hands on her knees. “Obviously!”

  He studied her disheveled appearance. Her uniform was slightly wrinkled, her shoes were untied, and—

  “Your shirt is inside out,” he observed.

  Lila froze.

  Slowly, she looked down at herself, then let out a strangled noise of horror. “Are you kidding me?!”

  Elias tilted his head. “Did you not notice?”

  “I was running for my life, Elias!” she wailed.

  “…Your life was not in danger.”

  “It felt like it!”

  Elias stared at her, then—without thinking—reached forward and adjusted the collar of her shirt, flipping it properly.

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  Lila went completely still.

  The moment stretched between them, the schoolyard suddenly feeling too quiet.

  Elias didn’t think much of the action. It was simply a logical response to her mistake. But Lila—

  Her face was turning red.

  “A-Ah,” she stammered. “Uh. Thanks?”

  “You are welcome.”

  She quickly stepped back, gripping the strap of her bag. “A-Anyway! We should—um—class! Yes, class! We’re gonna be late!”

  “We still have time.”

  “We might be late!” she insisted, already speed-walking ahead. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

  Elias followed, watching the way she fidgeted with her sleeves and refused to look at him.

  Strange.

  Very strange.

  And yet—

  He was starting to find her reactions…

  Interesting.

  Lila remained strangely fidgety throughout the morning.

  During class, she kept stealing glances at him but quickly looked away whenever he met her gaze. During group discussions, she mumbled through her words and avoided sitting too close. And when they passed each other in the hallways, she suddenly found great interest in the floor.

  It was unusual.

  Lila was always expressive—always talking, always gesturing wildly with her hands. But now, she was… awkward.

  Why?

  Elias replayed the events of the morning in his mind. She had been late, flustered, and her shirt had been inside out. He had fixed it. Then—

  Ah.

  Was this another one of those moments? The ones where she would act strangely afterward?

  He had observed this pattern before.

  Every time something small happened—whether it was holding her hand to guide her across the street, giving her his jacket when it was cold, or simply fixing her collar—she would react like this.

  Red cheeks. Avoiding eye contact. Stumbling over words.

  And every time, he still did not understand why.

  At lunch, he decided to address it.

  He found Lila sitting at their usual spot near the windows, poking at her food distractedly. He sat down across from her, and she visibly tensed.

  “Lila.”

  “H-Huh?!”

  She nearly dropped her chopsticks.

  Elias stared at her. “…Are you unwell?”

  “What?! N-No!” She waved her hands frantically. “I’m fine! Totally fine! What makes you think I’m not fine?!”

  “You are behaving strangely.”

  Lila let out a choked laugh. “Whaaaat? No way! This is just—uh—my normal behavior!”

  “It is not.”

  She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Elias, please.”

  “I am simply stating a fact.”

  She peeked at him through her fingers, then let out a long sigh.

  After a moment, she finally mumbled, “It’s just… you did that thing again.”

  “What thing?”

  “The thing where you do something weirdly smooth and don’t even realize it!”

  Elias blinked. “I was not attempting to be ‘smooth.’”

  “Yeah, that’s the worst part!” she wailed.

  He tilted his head. “…Is fixing your shirt considered an action that warrants this reaction?”

  Lila groaned again, looking like she wanted to bang her head against the table.

  After a pause, Elias said, “If it made you uncomfortable, I will not do it again.”

  Her head snapped up. “No! I mean—!” She flushed. “I didn’t hate it, it’s just—!” She flailed her hands. “Ugh, never mind!”

  Elias stared at her, processing.

  She did not dislike it. But she also found it overwhelming somehow.

  Was that contradictory?

  …No.

  Not necessarily.

  Elias still did not understand emotions. But lately, whenever he was around Lila, he was starting to notice things.

  Things he could not explain.

  And for the first time, he wanted to.