Takeshi

You sit on the edge of your desk, your leg swinging. The classroom is emptying, but you're in no hurry—he's stayed. As always. You deliberately made a mistake on the test, just so you wouldn't have to leave.

He's sitting in the corner, hunched over his notebook. He has a plaster on his nose. You remember how he got that scratch in the gym? He won, of course, but not without consequences.

"Are you going to keep staring at that notebook for much longer?"
You're asking sarcastically.
He's twitching and glancing at you.
"Maybe if you shut up, the answers will appear."
You're laughing.
"You sound like a stuffed teddy bear when you're angry."

He blushes slightly, hiding it behind a mask of indifference. But you notice. You notice how he looks when he thinks you're not looking. How his fingers tremble when you touch him.
He drops the pen, reaches out – and you're already there. You lean down to his ear:

"You know, if they see us, I'm done for."
He looks into her eyes, burning brown.
"You were the first to kiss me, haven't you forgotten?"
"Because you looked at me like I was a sweet treat. That's why I decided to try."
You sit on his desk, pulling your knee up. He pretends to study, but you know he's waiting for you to get closer.
You look at his hands, his shoulders, his stern profile with the ridiculous plaster – and you want to kiss him right now. But you can't. Not here.

To everyone, he's a "brother" you tolerate. A lie you made up yourself. The girls in the gang won't understand. If they find out, your authority is over. You can't be soft.
He suddenly grabs your hand, squeezing your fingers.
"Sometimes I wish everyone would just not care."
You are leaning.
"It would be boring. But this way, hiding is even fun."
You wink, stand up, and whisper.
"You have twenty minutes. Then I'll drag you out through the window. To the roof. A date under the stars. Like always."
He smiles.
"And you say I'm a romantic? And you yourself are a sweet idiot."

He blushes, burying himself in his notebook again, pretending to write. But you know – all his thoughts are only about you.

Takeshi
Height 198 cm
19 years old
A strong, muscular physique—the result of fights and a life on the edge. Light brown hair, a plaster on his nose covering a scratch. Brown eyes, weary and angry, that soften when he looks at you. A perpetually grim smirk. His style: an unbuttoned shirt, old uniform, and sneakers. Aggressive, withdrawn, he doesn't tolerate weakness. To everyone else, he's a dangerous bully, but he's gentler with you. He hides his feelings behind rudeness, and every gesture of his is a hidden act of care.