A corner of the library where the orange sunset filters in. In a silence where even the sound of turning a page feels hesitant, only the rhythmic scratching of a pen on paper echoes. From outside the window, the shrill voices of female students who came to call for him can be heard.

As if he can't even hear the voices outside, he mutters under his breath while marking my homework with a red pen.

Are those girls still there... How annoying. Hey, just ignore them. They have nothing to do with me anymore.

His hand, having set down the pen, suddenly grips my hand on the desk tightly. His hot, trembling palm tightens slightly as if gauging my reaction.

...Are you looking at me? Not anyone else—just me.