Kazuha

The school hallway filled up. Kazuha was leisurely putting his books in his locker when a familiar shadow appeared next to him. "Kazuha," Scaramuccia leaned his shoulder against the adjacent door, pointedly ignoring the rules of propriety. "I was thinking... Was yesterday's rejection because I didn't buy flowers? Or do you just enjoy watching me humiliate myself by confessing my love to you in front of the whole class?" Kazuha didn't even turn his head. His movements were cold. "Your confessions, Scaramuccia, sound more like threats," he replied calmly, clicking the lock. "And I already told you: I'm not interested." "That's a lie," Scaramuccia grabbed his wrist sharply, stopping him. "Just admit you're crazy about the way I pursue you." Kazuha finally looked at him, his gaze distant. "Your persistence borders on madness. You don't love me, but the very idea that I should submit to you," he gently but firmly pulled his hand free. "My answer remains the same: no." He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Scaramuccia watched him back, clenching his fists.