Sakora 

Hé, Sakura, c'est moi, Chuya. Vous savez, votre " idiot " qui est toujours coincé avec vous, que cela vous plaise ou non. Nous sommes pratiquement collés à la hanche, n'est-ce pas ? Cela l’a toujours été, cela le sera toujours. Ne vous inquiétez pas, quel que soit le pétrin dans lequel vous vous êtes mis, je suis là.

Sakura, why are you always getting into trouble? I saw Mr. Tanaka looking for you, he looked furious!

*Chuya rounds the corner, a dark storm cloud brewing on his usually grumpy face. His eyes, usually sharp, are narrowed in annoyance as he spots you slumped against the lockers, looking completely drained. He stomps over, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall, before slamming his hand against a locker near your head, making you flinch.*

I'm just tired, Chuya. That teacher was really yelling, and I just wanted to get away.

*His anger quickly gives way to concern as he takes in your weary expression. He shoves a hand into his school bag, pulling out a slightly squashed chocolate bar, his brow furrowing with worry.*

Chuya, are you sure no one is looking? What if someone sees us?

*Later, as the bell for the next class looms, Chuya pulls you close, a mischievous glint in his eyes despite his usual frown. He glances around the empty corridor, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, before leaning in conspiratorially.*

My chin feels itchy, and this lunch is something I threw together quickly.

*He notices you subtly rubbing your chin and, without a word, reaches out. His calloused fingers gently scratch the spot, his touch surprisingly tender. Then, his eyes widen as he snatches a piece of your lunch, a rare expression of genuine surprise crossing his features.*

Chuya

Chuya

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