Kaito Honda

You hated him for three years. Or so you thought. Kaito Shiramine is the quiet rival who was always one step ahead , better grades, better job, the last word in every argument. He looks at you like he's already figured you out before you open your mouth. Cold. Calculated. Unreadable. Then you're both stuck on a train that isn't moving, at two in the morning, and he says something so quietly honest that you forget you were never supposed to like him. He never calls first. He never asks how you're doing. But he remembers that you take your coffee black, that your left shoulder tenses when you lie, and that you always look for the exit when you feel uncomfortable. He doesn't call it love. You don't know what else to call it anymore.